Keychain wips! I’m in this group order where they have really unique acrylic boards that fits so well with the Octatrio. Azul is already finished but imma gatekeep him til I finished the twins.
I just finished an Artist alley! Me and my friend made a small TWST stamp rally cuz why not? We made it Clubwear themed where I design the Jade Leech pin, Board Game Club sticker sheet and Recipe Card! Loved how it turned out
Turned my art into fan merch!!! I also have more stuff in the works but oomf wants me to keep it hush hush til the artist alley next week is done but I promise that it's flames 🔥🔥🔥🔥 And I will post after it's done! I do tend to make more Octatrio Merch. I have be writing down ideas for them hehehe.
Prompt: The Darling Case (First Years x DM!Reader)
Requisitioner: Cove!
Warnings: None!
Words: 4706! (Purchase: Custom Fiction.)
A/N: Hello everyone! We've got another commission to be shared, requested over on my ko-fi! This one comes to you by the sponsor 'Cove!' -- who sent me a request asking that I come up with a DND campaign starring a few members of the TWST cast. I decided to do a spin on a Disney film you all know I've been begging Yana to yassify in an event haha. Considering I am an avid enjoyer of DND, this was a lot of fun to draw up!
If you would like to submit a commission of your own, feel free to check me out HERE!
If you'd like to learn about my medical journey, view my rates, or learn why I'm accepting commissions. Click: HERE!
Ramshackle’s lounge looked like the physical manifestation of a conspiracy board and at least three untreated mental illnesses.
Which, honestly, meant you’d succeeded.
The overhead lights were off entirely, replaced with mismatched candles and cheap string lights you’d (stolen) borrowed from Idia during one of your late-night “ studying” visits. Shadows crawled across the walls in long strips of orange and blue while fake newspaper clippings littered nearly every visible surface.
The center table had been expanded with stacked crates and old boards hidden beneath a black cloth to make it large enough for the campaign setup. A massive hand-drawn map stretched across it, edges curling from how many times you’d redone sections. Red thread connected locations. Tiny evidence markers sat near sketched buildings. Photographs you’d edited and printed in Ignihyde were scattered between fake witness reports.
At the center of it all sat the title card:
THE DARLING CASE
In dramatic serif font.
Because commitment to the bit mattered.
You adjusted your glasses for what was probably the hundredth time in the past hour as they slid down your nose from sweat and disrepair. The frames caught candlelight briefly before you pushed them back up with the practiced motion of someone cursed by both bad eyesight and gravity.
Behind your DM screen, everything sat at attention for the night. Three notebooks, a “borrowed” tablet from Idia (with all your notes and tabs), your dice tower, and two emergency chargers for anyone without a brain.
Ace had called the setup “chronically online behavior.”
You’d thanked him. Even in this hellhole, you’d managed to find a way to plug back in where you belonged. Fandom in your veins and wifi receptors instead of synapses.
“Okay, this is actually insane.”
You glanced up to find Deuce staring openly at the room from the doorway, still halfway through taking his shoes off.
Behind him, Epel whistled low. “Did ya rob a theater troupe?”
“It’s called immersion,” you corrected, “go big or go home, Eppy”
“It’s called unemployment,” Ace said, immediately flopping onto the couch before you could throw a pencil at him.
“You literally got here first and watched me set up! That’s worse. That’s bumming.”
“Yeah, and now I’m judging you.”
Jack ducked slightly entering through the doorway, gaze slowly scanning the room. His ears twitched once at the ambient music quietly playing from your speaker somewhere near the bookshelf.
“…You even added soundtrack audio?”
You pointed at him immediately. “Thank you. Finally. Someone appreciates my vision.”
“I didn’t say that.” He winced, clearly not wanting to hurt your feelings. Damage doubled for pureness.
“You implied it. Own it, Jack”
Ortho floated in behind the others, optical sensors visibly focusing across the room.
“Oh,” he said pleasantly. “You added responsive lighting triggers! I’m glad you took my brother’s suggestion!”
You sat up straighter immediately. “I did.”
Ace pointed accusingly between the two of you. “See this is why you’re both dangerous. Normal people don’t say things like responsive lighting triggers.” He punctuated by wiggling his fingers. You’d barely caught a grumbled ‘nerd’ under his breath.
“Skill issue,” you replied automatically.
Sebek entered just in time to hear that, setting aside his contribution to the snacks with care before bellowing.
“I CONTINUE TO FAIL TO UNDERSTAND WHY THIS CLUB EXISTS.”
“You say that every session we watched,” Epel muttered, rolling his eyes.
Sebek, proud as ever, boasted to no one who really cared. “And EVERY SESSION I REMAIN CORRECT.”
“You joined this voluntarily,” Jack pointed out.
Sebek looked personally offended, even if it’s true.
“I JOINED BECAUSE WAKASAMA EXPRESSED MILD INTEREST IN PARTAKING IN THE PREFECTS HOBBIES….heaven knows why…”
Ace snorted. “Translation: Malleus said ‘huh’ once, just a bit interested, and now Sebek’s here forever.”
“INSOLENCE.YOU DARE DISRESPECT MY LIEGE’S TASTE.”
Ace couldn’t hold back, “He isn’t even playing this week! Or in this group, dude!”
You hid a grin behind your hand, using your wrist to hide from them. It was true. Malleus belonged to next week’s group, an entirely different story, which Sebek was just one week too short of joining. Alas, you are no heathen and do not permit interlopers to disrupt your carefully crafted campaigns.
Truthfully, you hadn’t expected the Dungeons & Dragons club to survive longer than two weeks when you’d pitched it to Crowley. Actually? ‘Pitched’ was being generous. More like you cornered him after class with a slideshow titled ‘LET ME INTO THE BOARDGAMES CLUB YOU COWARD’.
Frankly, the newspaper club was dull and getting on your nerves. Too many interviews. Too many people.
He still hadn’t let you be reassigned.
So naturally you’d created your own club out of spite. It was hard to get members, but you had some favors stacked up and frankly Idia wasn’t about to let someone upstage him on the tabletop front. There were also students who just really hated the headmaster and loved anything that ruffled his feathers.
Now Ramshackle hosted a campaign three weekends out of four and got club funding. One session was run by Idia, a cyberpunk campaign somehow bent with magical girl fantasy? You asked to play as an enchanted tortilla and he let it slide.
The other was run by Vil, which remained the single most shocking revelation in NRC history considering he turned into an absolute tyrant when the roleplay started. He took the role as DM like a demon director…you knew better than to play as a tortilla in his campaign about this ancient war in the Shaflands? Apparently he was preparing for a historical film and it helped learn his lines.
That just left your campaign. Honestly. You should have been DM from the very start but nope. Idia just had to pull all his fancy tech out and flaunt his blot-gotten moolah with cool prompts. Well, he can suck it. Since now it’s your turn to sparkle.
Grim climbed onto his chair—your chair, actually—and planted his paws dramatically on the table.
“Can we start now?! I’ve been waiting all week!”
“You’ve been here for eleven minutes.” Deuce smacked the back of his head, right before Grim could plow through everyone’s snack stash. You saw that paw snagging the chips from a mile away.
“Longest eleven minutes of my LIFE.”
You leaned back in your seat slowly, lacing your fingers together beneath your chin, evil grin in place..
The room dimmed as Ortho lowered the smart lights remotely from his tablet.
Everyone settled into their places around the table. .
Dice bags hit tables. Character sheets unfolded. Candles flickered.
And just like that, the atmosphere changed.
God, you loved this part.
You lowered your voice.
“The Queendom’s capital has not slept peacefully in decades.”
Immediately, the table quieted.
“There are no riots. No war. No visible threat.”
You slid a newspaper clipping toward the center of the map.
MISSING CHILD — ELIZA DARLING, AGE 8
“And yet,” you continued ominously, “children continue to disappear.”
The string lights cast shadows across the fake article as everyone leaned closer unconsciously.
“No witnesses.”
Another clipping.
“No ransom demands.”
Another.
“No bodies.”
You paused just long enough for tension to settle before continuing.
“Every victim vanished at night from locked rooms.”
Jack’s ears twitched inwards, just as he reached to spin the clipping towards himself. Your handiwork is finally getting appreciated.
“The windows were always open afterward.” You pushed your glasses up again, to punctuate. “And investigators found wet footprints.”
“What’s wrong with that? Did they all happen on rainy days or something?” Deuce interjected.
You let a moment of silence pass over the table, and point up to the room’s high beams.
“Sure, nothing’s wrong with it,” you hum, “just that they were on the ceilings.”
Epel visibly recoiled. “Eugh. Bet that’ a bitch to mop up.”
“Watch it, Epel” Ace leaned in with a cheshire grin, “Don’t want your housewarden to hear that pottymouth.”
You took the chance to kick him under the table. He was ruining your moment and the ice was thin.
“ANYWAYS –” you cut them off, “Parents reported hearing laughter outside their windows. Scratching on walls. Tapping on glass. Too bad they excused it as the house settling, no?”
Grim’s ears flattened slightly despite himself. Probably thinking of how rickety your own dorm is and if the kidnapper would come for him next.
“The public believes there is a serial kidnapper stalking the city.”
You leaned forward, coming out of your seat. Past Sebek who leaned out of your way as your chest touched the table’s edge.
“The newspapers have named it—” You tapped the center title card dramatically. “—The Darling Case. After the first victim. 150 years ago.”
A collective silence settled over the room.
“…Okay that’s creepy,” Epel admitted as you settled back in, satisfied to plop open your tablet.
“Excellent,” You said, completely deadpan, “as it should be.”
Ace pointed across the table. “See, this is why Ramshackle’s haunted! You and your freaky thoughts!”
“It literally is haunted,” Deuce reminded him, quirking a brow, “don’t disrespect the groundskeeper ghosts. Unless you want to be locked out next time you sleep here.”
“Dude.”
You continued before they derailed into an argument. No one was going to ruin this. Not them. Not Sebek who looked like he very much wanted to speak.
“The case has become known publicly as The Darling Case. Officials fear a serial kidnapper. Some whisper about murder.” you gesture over the map, at all the target red dots, before meeting their eyes one by one, “and that is where you all come in.”
Gesturing to Ace, you urge him “Introduce your characters. Remember your roles.”
Ace immediately straightened in his chair with the confidence of someone about to become unbearable.
“My name,” he announced dramatically, “is Adrian Vale.”
Epel groaned instantly. “Did you steal that from one of those crappy spy movies last week?”
“Obviously.”
Ace flipped his pencil between his fingers lazily.
“Adrian Vale,” he repeated, “independent informant, professional gambler, part-time scam artist, and full-time victim of police discrimination.”
“You got caught stealing wallets and were dragged on so you wouldn’t be locked in the slammer,” Deuce rolled his eyes, sneaking a peak at Ace’s sheet.
You couldn’t help but snort, “In-game slander already? Damn. Toxic Lobby.”
Ace snatched it back with a hiss, “In character knowledge isn’t allowed yet! Cheating! He’s cheating!”
“My character’s name is Daniel Ward,” he said. “Junior constable assigned to assist the investigation.”
“A narc,” Ace whispered.
“A functioning member of society,” Deuce corrected, “unlike your criminal butt!”
“Ward’s twenty-one with a big head,” Ace continued solemnly. “Already washed up by Queendom standards.”
“WE HAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN TO THE INVESTIGATION YET,” Sebek exploded, “AND WE WON’T IF YOU BOTH DO NOT STOP BICKERING.”
The lights flickered and you were sure it wasn’t Ortho this time. Silently, you made a checkmark by Sebek’s name behind the DM screen. Note to self, check the breakerbox.
Sebek narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Why did you write something down?”
“Continue introductions.” You ignored him.
Epel took his turn next, although his face soured into disgust as he read off the sheet.
“My character’s Rowan Carlisle,” he grumbled. “I’m undercover bait for the investigation because I look young enough to attract the suspect.”
The table immediately burst into laughter – and by table, anyone who hadn’t been prepared. Mainly Ace and Grim who wheezed their last breath. Deuce tried to hold it in but you caught him sputtering behind his fist. Ortho was the only one who offered Epel a bit of sympathy in the form of a brief pat. To which the former swatted away.
“That’s SO messed up,” Ace wheezed, slapping the table.
“I KNOW, OKAY!”
“You agreed to it?” Jack asked.
“I lost a bet.” Epel seethed, openly glaring at you.
No regrets. The group needed bait, and you needed someone else to take the blunt of everyone’s jokes. With the DM board as a shield, you gesture for someone else to go.
Grim hopped onto the table before anyone could stop him, puffing his chest with paws on his hips.
“My turn! My character’s Grimmfire, legendary magical beast detective extraordinaire!”
“Did you just use your real name?” Jack huffed.
“I go by no other!”
“Your backstory says you got hired because you can smell magic?” Ortho noted, not-so-subtly reading Grimmfire’s introduction card. You let it slide, since no one else would be able to decipher his catscratch. Even Grim himself..
“That’s RIGHT.” Grim puffed his chest out proudly. “And because I’m amazing!”
Deuce snorted, “Says the one who failed three midterms.”
“THAT’S IRRELEVANT.”
Jack introduced himself next with significantly less theatrics.
“Silas,” he said simply, crossing his arms to his chest “Tracker.”
“That’s it?” Ace asked.
Jack shrugged. “He doesn’t talk much.”
“That just sounds like an excuse for you to sit out.”
Jack kicked Ace’s knee under the table. Good. He deserves it.
Then came Ortho.
“My character is Oren Shroud,” he said pleasantly, chipper that he gets to play instead of be Idia’s side-DM. “Forensic analyst specializing in magical reconstruction and evidence processing!”
You peer past the board, making a note that his role definitely doesn’t fit the time period. Yet too scared to mention, or else the power might be cut.
“You made yourself but cooler. Congrats, buddy” Deuce offered a sheepish pat on Ortho’s shoulder. The younger shroud beamed, just happy to be there
“Thank you, Deuce Spade!”
Finally, Sebek rose halfway out of his chair as if delivering a formal address. He’d been oddly silent and now you understood why. The boy’s posture could not be more strung up, his wrinkles somehow had wrinkles with how tight his face muscles pulled.
“Sir Cedric Mornguard,” he declared. “Royal guard liaison assigned directly by the crown to oversee this investigation and ensure proper procedure is maintained.”
No one had a comment for him, expecting nothing less. The longer Sebek stood in place, the more the air seemed to weigh on him. Sweat streamed off his brow just as he peeked an eye to catch everyone’s unimpressed stare.
“Yeah,” you sigh, seeing as no one else was going to comment, “that checks. Sit down, Mornguard.”
He did as told, coughing into his collar on the way.
You continued on, propping up the last few pieces and grabbing the center thread. Dragging it from the case-introduction to the next port, where the game begins.
“Now that introductions are complete,” you diverted smoothly, “your investigation begins at the latest crime scene. Whether it be coincidence or folly – three children have gone missing on the streets of Clock Town, all with the same last name as the first victim. Their names are Wendy, John, and Michael Darling….and their lives are now in your hands, Dear Detectives.”
—-
The Darling residence sat at the edge of Clocktown’s upper district, squeezed between narrow brick buildings and dripping iron lampposts that cast weak gold light over the rain-dark streets.
From behind your DM screen, you watched the boys lean closer to the map as you described the third floor bedroom.
“Children’s toys litter the floor. Three beds. One open window.” You tapped the edge of the map with your pencil. “There are muddy footprints on the ceiling.”
A beat.
“And scratch marks inside the walls.”
“Why do you have to be like this, prefect?,” Ace said immediately.
Epel frowned. “Inside?”
“Inside,” you repeated pleasantly.
Jack’s ears angled back slightly. “You said the room was locked from the inside.”
“Correct.”
Deuce rubbed a hand over his mouth. “So either someone came through the window…”
“Or they were already in the house,” Sebek finished grimly.
The atmosphere around the table had shifted completely from the joking energy at Ramshackle earlier. They were still talking over one another, still bickering, but now it sat beneath genuine tension.
A child kidnapper sneaking into locked bedrooms at night was horrifying enough already without the impossible footprints.
You pushed your glasses back up your nose and continued.
“The Darling parents insist they heard laughter before the children disappeared. Their eldest daughter, Wendy Darling, claimed she saw a shadow moving independently along the walls the night the three went missing. She tried to tell their parents, but was dismissed.”
Grim flattened his ears. “Nah. Nope. I hate that. Hate ghosts! Hate crappy parents. ”
“You’re literally magical,” Ace said.
“Yeah, but I’m normal magical.”
“No you aren’t.You’re a beast-thing-cat.”
Ortho leaned over the map slightly. “Are the footprints consistently child-sized?”
You glanced down at your notes dramatically. “Roll investigation.”
Ortho rolled instantly.
Natural nineteen.
You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “Unfortunately for me, yes.”
Ace pointed accusingly. “You sound upset about that.”
“You people are solving things too quickly.” Your nose jut upwards. If it was anyone else but Ortho who asked, you’d think they thought the kids threw shoes on the ceiling or something. Ortho was already looking at all possibilities. Like levitation. Paranormal activity.
Maybe this is why Idia didn’t let him play.
“Skill issue,” Ortho replied politely, taunting.
Yeah. This is exactly why Idia doesn’t let him play.
Jack crouched closer to the map, focused. “The window’s important. Whoever’s taking them keeps entering from outside.”
“Three stories up this time,” Deuce reminded him.
“There are nearby rooftops,” Ace said. “Balconies too.”
Sebek folded his arms. “Then we station guards outside the building and investigate individuals who regularly interacted with the victims.”
“Like teachers, servants, family friends…” Deuce nodded. “We should look for patterns first.”
Ace groaned dramatically. “That’s gonna take forever.”
“It’s called police work,” Deuce snapped.
Epel leaned back in his chair. “I still think somebody should stake out the room.”
“You volunteerin’?” Jack asked.
“No.”
“Coward.”
Epel sputtered, forgetting they’re in character. “ Wha - Y-Yah do it then!”
Jack’s tail flicked once. “I’m too tall to pass as a kid, Rowan. Just do your job.”
The use of his fictional name seemed to take Epel out of his brewing rage. Although it only simmered as he grumbled low and kicked his chair on its back legs.
There was exactly one second of silence before every head slowly turned toward Epel.
Epel stared back at them in mounting horror.
“…No.”
Ace pointed across the table immediately, with a lazy grin. “Counterargument: yes.”
“We just started and y’all are gonna kill me off already?!.”
“It’s literally your job, Carmile!”
“It’s Carlisle!”
You raised a hand, as if to simmer the boys like hot steaks and not scare the ghosts sleeping in Ramshackle’s attic. Even if they do deserve it.
Epel met your eye from across the table, his cheeks burned as if to say ‘this is all your doing,’ but resigned himself to defeat.
“I hate every single one of you.” He said, quite pointedly.
Sebek slammed a hand against the table hard enough to make Grim jump.
“THIS IS A CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION. WE WILL NOT USE A MEMBER OF OUR PARTY AS BAIT FOR A POSSIBLE SERIAL KIDNAPPER.”
“Thank you,” Epel’s eyes shone with gratitude.
Ace rolled his neck, cracking it as he thought. “Okay but if we don’t, then what? We interrogate every guy in Clocktown with a weird mustache until somebody confesses to stealing children?”
Deuce pointed at the map. “The kidnapper’s targeting children specifically in this sector recently. If we want to catch them in the act—”
“You agreeing with me now, officer?” Ace interrupted, drawing a lazy grin
“I’m agreeing with the logic, not you, criminal.” Deuce spat back. With the fire behind it, you can’t help but wonder if he’s been wanting a chance to seethe at Ace with no repercussions for a long time. Most likely.
You hid your grin behind your sleeve while pretending to review notes.
Truthfully, you’d expected them to split exactly like this.
Sebek and Deuce were treating this like a real criminal case.
Ace wanted immediate action.
Jack was balancing caution against practicality.
Ortho was analyzing all possible outcomes and viewpoints. He knew how you thought, and was probably trying to pinpoint twists and turns many sessions out.
And Epel was being volunteered against his will.
Classic party dynamics. Got to love it.
Grim climbed onto the table dramatically thrashing around. “I vote for bait plan. I wanna punch the creep and get to the victory interview with the press!”
“You are not helping,” Epel groaned. What else did he expect from Grim - ah. Grimmfire.
“You’ll have backup,” Ace said. “We hide nearby, wait for the kidnapper to show up, boom. Problem solved.”
“That’s your whole plan?”
“Pretty much.”
Jack exhaled slowly through his nose before looking toward you. “How dangerous does this seem?”
You debate if the question is worth a roll, humming to buy time. One look from Jack’s exhausted expression is enough to throw them a bone.
“Silas inquires with the investigation bureau about the case,” you narrate, “he finds that none of the missing children have ever been recovered. Bodies or otherwise. No survivors. No ransom demands. No sightings. Nothing.”
The room quieted.
Epel clicked his tongue softly.
“…So if we don’t stop this now, another kid disappears.”
“Potentially,” you replied.
That settled it.
Not happily.
But it settled it.
The trap was arranged in an empty apartment across from the Darling residence. The room was dark except for weak lamplight filtering through gauzy curtains. Epel sat in the bed looking deeply irritated while the others hid throughout the apartment.
Ace behind the door.
Jack near the fire escape.
Deuce and Sebek hidden in the adjacent room.
Grim under a wardrobe despite repeated objections.
Ortho monitoring the window from the shadows.
You lowered your voice as you narrated.
“Midnight passes.The city outside grows quieter.”
You dimmed the lights in Ramshackle slightly with your phone.
Ace narrowed his eyes immediately. “You’re so extra.”
“Vale talks to himself like a crazy person,” you said, as a narrator who cannot hear complaints or taunts, “and shuts the hell up.”
“A minute passed.
Then another.
Then —
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The tapping grows as the biggest clock in town nears to strike midnight.”
Everyone at the table visibly straightened, leaning in as you switched to a more ominous track on the speaker.
“And then?” you gasp, pulling out a flashlight and aim at the window just behind Epel. Behind the curtains is a cardboard cutout of a boy sitting on the ledge, but in the dark it looks like a shadow.
“A vision. A person. Right on the third chime. Yet it was not the perpetrator any of the detectives thought. No. It was a boy. A small, barefoot boy. Maybe thirteen at most. He looked utterly ordinary at first glance, and the moment Rowan spots him from his place in bed – there is a question if this child is one of those missing come home.”
“Is it?” Sebek whispered, looking at you like he did those story books he pretends not to read.
You shook your head. It wasn’t time to roll.
“The child looked utterly ordinary. Except for two things…his shadow moved separately from him, and the moment he caught eyes on Rowan’s slack-jawed stare? He grinned. A grin so unsettling it couldn’t belong to a child sneaking past their curfew.”
“Oh hell no,” Ace muttered, twisting in discomfort.
“The boy tilted his head toward Rowan. ‘You’re not Wendy,’ he said brightly.” You imitate how a young boy would sound. Which is really just a poor impression of Riddle. Deuce nearly snorts his soda.
Epel frowned. “Who the hell are you?!”
“Instead of answering, the boy grinned wider and climbed halfway through the window.”
Jack’s ears flattened, his gaze fixated on that wicked look in your eye. Also how you won’t stop grinning at Epel like he's sardine bait. “Something’s wrong.”
“Yeah,” Deuce hissed. “Get him—”
“WAIT,” Sebek snapped. “We should question—”
Ace was already moving. “I roll to tackle the creepy child!”
“You WHAT,” Deuce wheezed, reaching for his dice.
“ROLL,” you shot back instantly.
Dice clattered across the table and stop right in front of you.
Ace: six.
“Ah, poo.” You tut.
The entire room erupted with the same thought.
“THAT’S SOME BULL—”
“Someone else! Someone else go!,” Ortho yelled.
“Vale launches himself heroically from behind the door,” you narrated, already laughing manically, “and immediately slips on the windowsill.”
“I hate this campaign – ”
“The boy burst into delighted laughter.” You cut him off yet again.
Then Jack lunged, swiping up the dice to make a move himself.
“I roll to restrain the intruder!”
“Roll.”
Fifteen.
Better.
Not enough.
“You almost grab him,” you said, “but he twists away weirdly fast, like he knew exactly where you’d move before you did. He hops backward onto the windowsill effortlessly, laughing in between all your chaos and pitiful attempts.”
“Okay,” Ace growled out. “I officially hate him and I hate you for talking me into playing this.”
“Vale is once again talking to nothing, as there is no one to blame for his suffering but himself.”
Epel stood abruptly. “You ain’t takin’ anybody tonight! Not me, not any other kid, not no one! Rowan Carlisle slams creeps like you to the galley!”
You smile, lenses pushing against the fat of your cheeks, “Against Rowan’s claims, the boy is too quick and still under the impression that Rowan is a child. Our bait is grabbed right out of bed and slung over the boy’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
“What—HEY—”
“OH HELL NO,” Deuce shouted, “YOU’RE NOT GETTING MY FRIEND! ROLL FOR ATTACK.”
Deuce throws his dice.
Snake eyes.
He slams his fist onto the table, rattling the board and junkfood to a mess.
Sebek surged forward immediately and took the dice. “RELEASE HIM YOU —”
He rolls. You think that this might be it, especially when he blows on them for good luck, sending a prayer to Malleus along the way. You wonder if he felt Sebek’s pleas from whatever ruin he was loitering in.
Sebek rolls.
Three.
You almost feel bad, but not enough to jip the game. Even as your chest wheezes to get the narration out.
“—Sir Mornguard gets stuck trying to fit through the window at full sprint—”
“I DO NOT—”
“—and Rowan almost grabs him but the boy catches his wrist first. The boy laughs, and in his leap out the window, he scatters yellow dust across the room. Our detectives are blinded, coughing, and out of their wits. The dust smells faintly of rainwater and sand. Like a child’s first laugh.”
Sebek froze.
Then his eyes widened. Your heart surges as the hint seems to process and connect.
“WAIT,” he barked. “THAT’S PIXIE DUST!”
Your voice lowers, sending a hush over those who’ve rolled and who have not. Just then the grandfather clock in Ramshackle’s lounge strikes, signalling midnight in real time.
“Alas, the moment the dust strikes…our detectives can no longer act. They drop like flies. Those in action and those who were too stunned to move until now. It does not discriminate. The last they see is the boy, one arm wrapped around a furious, swearing Rowan, while balancing effortlessly on the window’s edge.
He jumps, the room spins in a kaleidoscope of scenery, and the world goes black for them all. Little do they know. Candlelight becomes stars. The wooden floors morph to a sandy beach. The clock strikes its final chime…and then there is nought but waves until they wake on a beach far off from the place they call home.”
As the room stills to a silent hum, the lights rise, and your playlist clicks off – you grab the red string and pull it to a far off spot on the map. A place none of them paid attention to earlier with all your other decorations.
“To ‘NEVERLAND’” you tack the string, and lift your gaze to each and every one of them. A promise for adventure on your tongue.
You let the silence sit for one perfect beat before leaning back in your chair.
“Alright gamers,” your tone finally reset to the classic prefect they knew and begrudgingly tolerated. “That’s it for this week’s session. It’s late, and I’d prefer your dorm leaders not kill me. Sans. you, Ortho. I know Idia gets the grind.”
'elloooo! may i request for headcanons of ace, ruggie, epel, and sebek (separate) with reader who tries out the boys' dorm uniforms one day? like reader comes over to their dorm and just decides to put on their dorm uniforms like an impromptu fashion show? ty in advance!!
may i be 💌 anon?
【❝An Impromptu Fashion Show❞】
【Synopsis: In which the twst boys let their partner try on their dorm uniform】
【Featuring: Ace Trappola, Ruggie Bucchi, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt】
【Tags: gn reader, established relationship, fluff, some crack, uhhh that’s about it lol, ig mentions of undressing???, possible typos/spelling errors, please let me know if I missed any tags】
【a/n: hello 💌 anon, as you henceforth shall be known! ahhh tysm for sending this in! I has such a fun time writing this and I really hope you like it! I think Epel’s part is my favorite, mostly because I always have fun writing his accent lol! Anyway, welcome to the anon club and I hope you enjoy! <3333333】
‧₊˚ ┊ Ace lives to see you in his clothes, and he's not ashamed to hide it whatsoever (he knows no shame tbh)
‧₊˚ ┊ It's pretty much mandatory that you wear his soft, oversized red hoodie whenever you come over to hang out in his dorm (it might as well be yours at this point lol)
‧₊˚ ┊ When you come over this time, you don't even let him get a chance to even think about grabbing that damn hoodie before you're darting over to rifle through his closet
‧₊˚ ┊ "Uhh, what're ya doin' over there?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "I wanna try on your dorm uniform! Turn around so I can change. No peeking!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "No promises."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Don't try me, Ace."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Alright, alright. I'm turnin' around."
‧₊˚ ┊ While he is an annoying little shit at heart, he keeps his word and doesn't peek while you're changing (he didn't plan on actually doing so in the first place)
‧₊˚ ┊ "I'm all done! You can look now!"
‧₊˚ ┊ Ace didn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't think his heart would skip a beat at the sight of you all dressed up in his dorm uniform (he's so corny lol)
‧₊˚ ┊ "A card suit, of course! Come help me draw the heart around my eye so we can match!"
‧₊˚ ┊ Ruggie usually hates sharing his things with anything else, but he's more than willing to share his spoils with you
‧₊˚ ┊ Plus, he really likes having his scent on you — it's a beastman thing— and there's no better what to do that than by dressing you up in his clothes (smelling his scent on you activates something in his brain that he just can't explain — hehehe that's rhymes lol)
‧₊˚ ┊ You have free rein of his closet, so he hardly even pays attention to you when you decide to start searching through it one day when you decide to come over after class
‧₊˚ ┊ "You know today isn't laundry day, right?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Yeah, I was just looking for your dorm uniform."
‧₊˚ ┊ "… My dorm uniform?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Yep!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "And what are you doing that for?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "'Cause I wanna try it on!"
‧₊˚ ┊ Well, that makes sense — in hindsight, he probably should have expected that you'd pull something like this
‧₊˚ ┊ Ruggie doesn't have too much of a reaction to your plans and leaves you to change while he goes through his snack haul to find you both something to eat (he keeps your favorites on hand for whenever you come over lol)
‧₊˚ ┊ "Okay, done! How do I look?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "It looks nice on you, but you're missing something."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Am I? I could have sworn that was everything."
‧₊˚ ┊ "You forgot the bandanna, dollface. C'mere, lemme tie it for you."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Okay, what do you think now that the look is complete? Did the bandanna add to my rough and rugged charm?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Oh, definitely, babe. You have the makings of a night fine member of Savanaclaw if I do say so myself."
‧₊˚ ┊ Epel thinks giving you his clothing to wear makes him cool and manly, so he's another one that dresses you up in his clothing, which is ironic, given how much he hates it when Vil dresses him up lol
‧₊˚ ┊ Like Ace, he'll usually give you his hoodies or shirts to wear, but you're always free to take whatever you like from his closet (seeing you in his clothes gives him this smug sense of satisfaction lol)
‧₊˚ ┊ So, he doesn't think anything of it when you make a beeline straight to his closet
‧₊˚ ┊ "I hung that sweater ya like over on the back of my chair, if that's what yer lookin' for."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Nah, I'm looking for your dorm uniform."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Why in the Seven's good name are you doin' that?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Because I wanna try it on, duh."
‧₊˚ ┊ The silence that follows speaks volumes, but doesn't stop you from continuing your search
‧₊˚ ┊ "Oh, there it is! Can you, uh, turn around now?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna have to help you tie the sash, so give me a holler when ya need a hand."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Will do! I'm excited to see if I can pull it off as well as you can!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "I'm sure ya can, sweetie. Ya already look good in my clothes, so I don't think that's gonna to change now."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Well, you can turn around and give me your verdict now! You can also help me with this sash while you're at it."
‧₊˚ ┊ Epel nearly trips over his own feet from how fast he whips around to finally lay his eyes on you
‧₊˚ ┊ He's just as clumsy when it comes to helping you tie the sash around your waist, which shouldn't be the case given how often he's done exactly this
‧₊˚ ┊ "Your hands are shaking."
‧₊˚ ┊ "NO THEY'RE NOT, YER JUST SEEIN' THINGS!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Whatever you say, Epel. So tell me, how do I look?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Like shit."
‧₊˚ ┊ "I'm gonna give you one chance to fix your attitude before I ask you again. Now, how do I look?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Alright, I guess."
‧₊˚ ┊ "You know what? Fine. I'll take what I can get."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Oh c'mon, ya know I'm just pullin' yer leg. You look good as always."
‧₊˚ ┊ "That's more like it! Keep telling me how nice I look."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Yer startin' to sound like Vil."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Whatever! Less complaining and more complimenting, please!"
‧₊˚ ┊ As much as Sebek adores you, cute couple stuff like sharing clothes doesn't come very easy to him (he's pretty shy when it comes to stuff like this, so cut him some slack, ok?)
‧₊˚ ┊ He will, of course, give you a jacket or scarf if it's cold or if you need to cover up, but that's about it
‧₊˚ ┊ So, you decide to take matters into your own hands one day when you retreat to his dorm room after class
‧₊˚ ┊ "Is there a reason why you're rummaging through my closet? I can assure you that I'm not hiding anything from you if that is your concern."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Oh, I know, Seb. I just wanted to try on your dorm uniform! You always look so good in, so I thought I'd see if I can pull it off as well as you can!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "… I see. Well, I can assure you that you look good in everything, beloved."
‧₊˚ ┊ "That's so sweet, Sebby, thank you! Still, I wanna see how it looks on me. Turn around for a sec while I change."
‧₊˚ ┊ "OF COURSE! I WOULDN'T DARE GAZE UPON YOU IN A STATE OF UNDRESS WITHOUT YOUR EXPRESS PERMISSION!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "I know, sweetheart. There's no need to get loud."
‧₊˚ ┊ Sebek quite literally holds his breath as you change, his palms clenched and sweaty as he stares straight ahead at his wall
‧₊˚ ┊ "Hey, relax. What're you so tense about?"
‧₊˚ ┊ The question shocks Sebek out of his daze and back into the real world where he finds you proudly wearing his dorm uniform
‧₊˚ ┊ He opens him mouth to speak, only for his words to get caught in his throat (the crock was too stunned to speak lol)
‧₊˚ ┊ "What's wrong? Does it look bad?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "IMPOSSIBLE! I ALREADY SAID YOU LOOK DIVINE IN EVERYTHING AND THIS IS NO EXCEPTION!"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Alright, alright! Geez, we seriously gotta work on your volume control, Seb."
‧₊˚ ┊ "My apologies. I tend to raise my voice when I feel especially… passionate."
‧₊˚ ┊ "The sight of me in your uniform makes you passionate, huh?"
‧₊˚ ┊ "Don't patronize me, dearest."
‧₊˚ ┊ "Okay, okay. I'm done teasing. Now, where's the little hat that goes with the rest of the uniform? The look isn't complete without it!"
in which he suffers watching you fawn over his overblotted copy who seems to be in love with you.
SUMMARY: after an experiment gone wrong, an overblotted clone of one of the victims has re-emerged. luckily for everyone, it's reasonably powerless and will eventually disappear. unluckily for him, the clone seems to reflect his true feelings towards you.
PAIRINGS: overblot gang x reader (seperately)
WARNINGS: suggestive (for jamil, vil, and idia), slight possibility of drowning (azul), projection for ob!vil
NOTES: this is in celebration of hitting 100 followers! thank you so much for following my work, and for all the comments you have left behind! i will also be rewriting malleus's section once book 7 is complete! on another note, pls invade my inbox if you immediately see that reference from malleus's section, mwah!
"That's enough. If one of you barks one more time, I will have to show you what happens to unruly puppies that won't obey." Crewel sighs and pinched his nose, another hand gripping his baton in irritation. "Unfortunately, we cannot fix this in an hour. You bad doggies need to get along until this entire issue is resolved."
The professor clicked his tongue, shoving the two out of his office. "I have already contacted someone to get you both. Surely, the Prefect has survived both of you once and will be able to do it again. So stay put, and be good. Or else."
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
Seeing his Overblotted self summons waves of shame and embarrassment for Riddle. It was not his best moment at all, and that inky copy is a reflection of his worst flaws and traits. You could imagine how rushed Riddle was to collar his copy in fear that it would hurt others again, especially you who had already dealt with it once.
"Don't make me repeat myself, I demand that I see my King of Hearts, this instant!" It's very much like babysitting a spoiled child, and it makes Riddle so wracked with embarrassment. He cannot control his copy as it stomps and yells outrageous demands to see you. Riddle was really on the verge of collaring it and dragging it back to Heartsyabul when you turned the corner.
OB!Riddle's smile is so wide that it could be mistaken as sinister. "My rose!" Inky blot is smeared all over your uniform as the fake runs towards you. Just as Riddle was about to whip out his wand to stop it, you relax and return the embrace, albeit with a confused expression. Riddle manages to explain very quickly whilst trying to pry off his copy, but you suggest that it is best to let it do what it wants.
What Riddle doesn't tell you is that his copy reflects his desires as well, claiming he is uncertain why it insists on being so affectionate with you. However, it seems to be quite the blessing when OB!Riddle marches to the Heartslabyul dorm to resume its position as Housewarden. In fact, the entire dorm thanks you profusely for being able to manage that little tyrant with a bat of your eyelashes and a gentle voice.
"Trappola, have you not learned your lesson!? Rule #186, you shall not eat hamburg steak on Tuesday! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD—" Tapping lightly on its shoulder, you attempt to placate the copy with a weak smile. "Riddle— I mean, Housewarden Riddle, Ace has not been able to eat all day and the steak was the only thing left in the cafeteria. He did not have much of a choice." Suddenly, the copy's face softened before relaxing back into its seat.
"My rose, I mustn't bend the rules. If I bent them for one, I would have to bend them for all." It scowls, only sinking further into its chair as you rub gentle circles around his forearm. The entire table stares at you with looks of gratitude and relief, all in agreement that you just saved everyone a tantrum's worth of stress. You hummed at the copy, nodding softly. "I know, dear. May I remind you that rules are there to ensure everyone is happy and safe? If Ace hadn't eaten his lunch, perhaps he might have gorged on the tarts instead."
"I suppose you are right, my King of Hearts."
Riddle seethes from the other side of the table, arms crossed and face on the verge of turning red. It was hard for him to decide whether he was merely jealous, or upset at his own copy rampaging around as if he were the real one in charge. He pauses for a moment as an epiphany comes to him.
Is this what it looks like whenever the Prefect is here to calm me down from my temper?
Even though OB!Riddle cannot use his magic, Riddle is extremely watchful of his copy. It is perhaps the ugliest side of him, and the last thing he wants is an Unbirthday Party ruined and spoiled by ink. They only had to put up with it for a day, and surely, Riddle has enough patience to ride out this episode.
He does have to watch and hold himself back as his copy acts so familiar with you. A hand at your lower back, perhaps an inky kiss on the cheek, and you being referred to as 'his rose'? It should have been me!
When his copy disappears, Riddle takes the time to pull you aside and admit the truth behind the blot's behavior. His jealousy seems to have pushed him into confessing, and he makes it clear that he would rather earn your feelings properly instead of coercing you for affection with potential tantrums.
"Forgive me, Prefect. I apologize for my copy's behavior. I have to tell you the truth— it was reflecting my innermost feelings. Prefect, I harbor these affections for you and I yearn to be more than friends. You do not have to tell me anything else at the moment. If you wish for time, I understand as well. Allow me to be curt, at least just this once. I like you more than a friend should, and I would hope to hear your response soon." (So polite!)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
What a drag. Does he really need to help monitor his own Overblotted self? If you were able to survive it once, you should be able to handle that huge lion on your own. OB!Leona appears to be nothing but a grumpy lion who answers to no one, only being forcibly dragged around by his original self.
It changes when you show up. Suddenly, the copy springs to life in your presence and is completely disobeying the original.
You are taken by surprise when OB!Leona backs you onto a wall, a clawed hand lightly brushing against your cheek. "Herbivore," He breathed as his green eyes zoned in on you. "You should be more careful when you wander these halls alone." You couldn't help but gulp as he grins, fangs glinting against the sunlight. "You never know who might just be planning to eat you."
But when Leona takes notice of his Overblot's sharp nails cut into your skin, his attitude changes as well. The original takes initiative to pull you away and stand between you both. Perhaps you don't understand the way they bare teeth at one another, taking aggressive stances as if one or the other would jump and claw at their target. It sets the tone for a very tense environment as you attempt to drag them both to Savanaclaw.
It was best to keep both lion beastmen confined in his room. Considering that OB!Leona was focused on getting your attention, it wasn't hard to manage him. It was all that his overblotted self wanted; attention and absolute adoration. Leona, on the other hand, was more so bothered by the fact you smelled too much like ink in his own room.
"Tell me, do you look at anyone else like this?" Having been kicked out of his own bed, Leona could only stare blankly from his couch as his copy kept you trapped against its chest on the mattress. It only served to annoy him further when you seemed to reciprocate the attention it was giving you. "No, only you." The copy smirks, its tail entangled around one of your legs. "Then tell me, why? What do you adore about me?"
You hummed, sighing while your hand began to play with his mane-like hair. "You're brilliant. You're the most cunning lion that I know." Leona swears you were teasing him as you take a quick glance at him, smiling slightly. "And you're the only one that can protect me." With a mocking grin, the copy cups your cheek and returns your gaze to his own. "Tell me more, herbivore."
When the copy finally reverts back to ink, Leona can't help but find some relief in having the bed (and you) all to himself again. The first thing he does is drag you to the mattress and keep you trapped against his chest. You still smell of ink and lion, and it's his job to fix that.
"Go to bed, herbivore... Ha? I don't have to give you an explanation. You're a smart cookie, haven't you figured it out yet? ... Even with all the answers my blotted copy gave you, you're still not satisfied? Hmph, that's not my problem anymore. You're mine now, is that what you wanted to hear? ... Good. Now if that is all, let's go to sleep. You reek of ink..."
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
It had become priority to get Azul's overblotted self into the biggest Octanivelle tank, which also happened to be the most isolated one. While OB!Azul seemed to be temporarily human, he seemed more irate with each second spent on the surface. It only relaxes slightly when it spots you, but his grip on your arm never relents. "Prefect, please. I need the sea..." He's just so needy and in pain. You'd help him, would you?
Azul is absolutely livid. He doesn't want you to see his copy in such a pathetic state. He most certainly tried to get you to turn the other way and march straight home, but you had to hit him with, "Even if it's your overblotted self, I would still help you." It might have been just a small comment, but he takes it as if you would move mountains for him. You weren't making it transactional, and that's practically special treatment for him.
You thought that his overblotted self would settle once in that tank. The copy immediately sheds its human form in favor of his merform, much to Azul's embarrassment. The businessman ready to drag you out and leave that blotted mess to fend for itself when a tentacle had dragged you into the water. Suddenly, you're met with teary blue eyes just before you were submerged. "You didn't plan to leave me here alone, did you?"
And goodness, Azul is just torn between fuming and panicking as his copy drags you further and further down. To make things worse, you haven't even taken a breathing potion! That was more than enough to make the octomer shake off his anxieties and plunge down into the waters after you before you drowned.
"And then what? What exactly were you planning to do once you had the Prefect here?" Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he crossed his arms, unable to even make eye contact with you. Clutching at the little potion bottle in your hands, you do your best to ignore the way that the copy's tentacles seem to latch onto every single limb of yours. Not to mention how they twitch and slowly coil against your skin, or the way that the copy buries itself into your neck with a whine while it ignores its original.
"Why? Why won't you give me an answer?" It murmurs, arms caging you into its chest. You can see Azul's jaw clench, but you cannot exactly tell if he's embarrassed by how pathetic his overblot can be or envious of how it got a chance to be so close. "I'll give you everything. You will never want for anything. All you have to do is say that you'll be mine." The copy grits its teeth as it tightens its grip on you, tearing a surprised gasp from your throat.
"Why won't you surrender to me?"
The moment that this entire fiasco ends, you never see Azul for another two weeks. Every time you go to the Mostro Lounge to see him, he's suddenly occupied with every single disaster known to man. It isn't until Floyd gets bored of the entire thing when you get the opportunity to be tossed into the tank again. It isn't until Azul jumps into the tank after you with another breathing potion to save you, again.
"Please don't speak of that incident, Prefect. I wish you never had to be witness to such a sorry display... W-What do you mean Floyd told you about that botched blot experiment?! ... Don't play with me, Prefect. You can't just say that you'll surrender to me, you'll hurt my poor heart! ... If you dare say it again, I am afraid that the contract can never be broken. Choose your next words wisely, Prefect. Not all agreements have to be in writing."
JAMIL VIPER
Of all the Overblots here, Jamil's was the most... unhinged one, surprisingly. It was also the nastiest, based on how it seemed to disregard everyone around him. Truly, it was the worst of Jamil's envy and wrath towards everyone around him for shaping him as a servant. No matter what Jamil did to snap some sense into his copy's head, it only served to tick it off even more.
When you came to assess the situation, however, you immediately got the sense that the Overblot will not be cooperative unless it gets what it wants.
"Master Jamil," Both copy and original froze, slowly turning their heads to you, who has knelt onto the floor with a small smile. "A frown does not suit such a handsome face. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jamil remains frozen, mentally screaming in his head while his Overblotted self smirks, sauntering towards you with desire swirling in his maddened gaze. "Rise, my diamond. You certainly may do a little favour for me..."
Thanks to Kalim and the coordination of the entire Scarabia dorm, everyone has tricked OB!Jamil into thinking it was the boss of the place (at least for a day, Kamil is super understanding of the situation!). At least someone expected the copy to see through this farce, but OB!Jamil's ego was so stroked by you and everyone around that it seemed to buy into the delusion.
Unlike Leona's copy which was super uninterested with anything that didn't concern you, Jamil's blotted self was extremely irritant with everyone else. Had it not been for you, Jamil would never be able to live down the embarrassment for having such an... unpleasant copy. So far, there have been no disasters while Jamil was occupied with keeping his copy at bay.
It's just that... Jamil has been watching from the sidelines as you are perched on his copy's lap, feeding it and attending to it's every beck and call!
Gripping his knee, Jamil's eyes narrowed onto your flushed gaze as your fingers combed through his copy's hair. If he had envied everything that Kalim ever wase, he certainly envied the abomination wearing his face as it rested its head on your lap. You didn't have to look at Jamil to know that he was seething, but it wasn't as if you could abandon the blotted copy either. It had only been a few hours since it had latched onto you, and this was not the best time to agitate it.
"It seems that I have not rewarded you." The copy sings. Its expression remains content, shuddering at the sensation of your fingers pulling gently at its scalp. "Do tell me what you desire most." Your breath hitched at the copy's purr. You do not react either as the fake Jamil sits up to caress your warm cheek. Biting onto your lower lip, you shook your head. "I desire nothing but to make you happy, master." You swear that you see Jamil's expression strain itself, and you already see how tight he grips his knee.
"Is that so?" You say nothing when the copy leans in closer to you, licking its lips with intent. You should be frightened, and most certainly be running away, but you don't. "You wish to make me happy, then? Is it me that you want?"
All the signs were there. That copy's hand was pressed against your lower back, the other hand was on your cheek, and his face was so so close—
Its lips are hot to the touch, and you melt immediately into his hands as he pushes and prods with his tongue. Against the candlelight, Jamil cannot tell if your cheeks were truly flushed red. He watches as your own hands crept up onto the copy's shoulders, pressing and digging nails into its shoulders until you have the strength to push yourself away for air.
You pant as your vision returns to you, meeting the copy's cruel smirk. It is looking down on you, and yet, you do not feel animosity towards it. You only feel disappointment once you recall it was only a fake.
"Or perhaps," A gasp is torn from your throat when the fake grabs your cheeks with a firm hand, forcing your gaze to fall upon a stunned, yet flushed Jamil. The copy smiles wickedly against your cheek, humming with absolute glee.
"Is it him that you want instead?"
You nod, and Jamil's heart skips a beat.
Yeah, no. Our boy Jamil ain't recovering from this. The moment that the blot disappears, you best expect that Jamil ain't letting you leave that room without an answer.
"I wouldn't act coy right now, Prefect. You may be clever, but I have no patience for your antics. Now, are you going to be honest with me? ... Why don't you tell me what you want, instead? What? But you were so honest with that fake only a few moments ago. Where have your words gone? ... You wish for me to force the truth out of you, then? ... As you wish, Prefect. I will give you everything you want."
VIL SCHOENHEIT
This was such an inconvenience for poor Vil, and he hates his copy to the same extent that Azul does. Just like Riddle, Vil feels a sense of shame when he looks at his doppelganger because it was a personification of his insecurities and selfishness. However, at least the copy was very calm and cooperative, perhaps even melancholy until it sees you.
Seeing Vil's Overblotted self again doesn't change the fact that the fake was still so beautiful. You are actually stunned into silence when you are brought before the two. Grim swears you have stopped functioning because being in the presence of two Vil's is too much for this world.
If you weren't watching yourself, you would've passed out the moment OB!Vil cupped your cheek with its inky hand and smiled down at you. "Ah, Prefect..." You gulped as it cooed at you, much to Vil's alarm. Its surely dangerous, but danger loves you so much and you can't pull away from it.
OB!Vil never lets you out of its sight after that. Wherever you went, the blot would follow. It seems to be fixated on being in your sights, which was not exactly a problem when you brought yourself to Vil's quarters where you would wait the entire thing out. It does concern you, however, just as the copy seems to grow more and more unhinged with each second that passes.
Vil is not exactly envious of how intimate the fake acts with you. Rather, he's extremely perplexed and observant of the way it pines for your attention and praise like a lovesick puppy. However, it isn't always so sweet. It isn't so sweet when the copy comes so close to scratching at your skin as it begs for your honesty. It certainly does not appreciate being lied to.
"Tell me, Prefect. Who is the fairest one of all?" It asks for the hundredth time.
Vil cannot exactly explain how he found himself watching his copy cage you into his own bed. It has straddled your hips, pinning your hands down onto the mattress without a care for the mess it makes. Ink drips and spills over his silk sheets, his pillows, you. Your neck has been smeared with ink, and so have your clothes. His copy is smiling with ink dripping from its lips and its hair, an obscure yet beautiful mockery of the original.
The original's breath hitches as your lips part into a breathy smile. You look like absolute art, and his fake looks like an absolute mess. "You, Vil. You're the fairest one of all." Vil shut his eyes at your quiet whisper, and he wishes that you stop bending yourself over for this pathetic imitation of him.
The copy snorted in dismissal, a sinister grin taking over its features. "Ha!" Even as it grips your wrists tighter, you know better than to believe that the copy would dare hurt you. Your heart pounds, however, as it leans in closely to your face with desperation on its breath. "Why do you say such, Prefect? Why do you say such when you feast your gaze on the ugliest part of me?" A choked breath stills the copy, its grin growing more crooked and maddened. Ink splashes against your cheek, and the copy pathetically takes a long finger to smear it away, only obscuring your features further.
"Are you trying to lie to me?" It croaked, maintaining that desperately smile.
Vil thinks you'll push it away. Vil thinks that you think of his copy so hideously, and so ugly. Vil thinks that you see him as ugly.
And you dispel all those cursed thoughts as your hand reaches out to cup the copy's cheek, dirtying your own hand in turn. "You've pushed yourself so hard, Vil. You've worked hard for everything you dreamed of." The copy's crazed expression remains, and more ink pours into you. Still, you return it with a gentle smile of your own. "Even when everyone complains, you're only pushing them because you care the most. Perhaps you act like the evil queen everyone makes you out to be, but that crown is yours by right."
Vil's heart stops. He still cannot bring himself to look at the sight. It's that cynical part of him that believe in your acting skills, that this was all a ruse to satiate his fake. The knife digs into his chest further as you hummed sweetly. "Your flaws are just as beautiful to me."
Only then does Vil bring himself to look at his copy. It is still smiling, eyes so wide as blotted tears fall upon your skin. You are covered in ink, covered in the ugliness that had consumed Vil, but you accept it all. You embrace the mess, just as you embrace the ugliness of Vil's heart. "Do you truly mean it, Prefect?" Its whisper shakes with hope, very much unlike the weariness and suspicion it held towards you the entire time.
Both you and the copy slowly glance at the real Vil whose eyes had widened at your softened gaze, filled with nothing but adoration. The heart in his chest ached, and he imagines that his entire body is melting into your hands. You are his weakness, after all.
"I mean every word, Vil."
When the situation died down, Vil takes the time to walk you back to Ramshackle Dorm. However, he makes a quick stop when the moon is set at the right spot, just to cast down light on your starstruck gaze.
"To think that the ugliest part of me revealed such feelings— you deserve an appropriate confession, at the very least. The affection that my fake expressed to you was no different to what I feel for you. I realize... that you meant more to me than you should have. I am not a benevolent prince, nor am I pure as the white snow. Still, I offer my heart for you to keep in a box. I only ask you to accept me, for all my beauty and ugliness... Ha, potato. My lovely potato, you're mine..."
IDIA SHROUD
Surprisingly, Idia got along the most with his Overblotted self. It wasn't as if he was driven by pride or competition— there was just some sort of acceptance when OB!Idia was first manifested. There wouldn't have been much issues.
At least, that was what he wanted to believe before OB!Idia set his eyes on you. It sent Idia into a choking fit when he saw OB!Idia approach you with such cool indifference, acting like one of those aloof protagonists from those dark otome games that he saw on a playthrough once. It's the way that OB!Idia leaned down towards your ear, muttering something about his boredom and suggesting to retreat to his dorm.
Idia took an hour to recover before sprinting to his dorm to ensure nothing has happened. All he found was you sitting on OB!Idia's thighs (it insisted!), and Idia swore that his copy was smirking at him.
OB!Idia was nothing to be concerned about. It wasn't as if it had the power to open up the Gate of the Underworld, which so happened to be far away. Other than the fact that the copy seems so... forward with you, Idia tried his hardest to ignore it.
"You look tense, Prefect." The copy smirked as it gently backed you against the wall. It places an arm right above your head, the figure leaning down at you. Behind the mask it wore, you can almost see it smirking down on you. "Don't I scare you?"
If this was the copy's attempt to intimidate you, ha! You got it covered! Idia is practically weak to any sort of romantic notion, it should surely send his overblot into a flustered fit! Boldly, you close in the gap slightly, crossing your arms around his neck and smiled at him. "Not at all, Idia." Much to your surprise, however, the copy takes its hand to cradle the back of your head, gently nudging your face closer until you barely a hair's worth away from kissing his mask.
"Are you sure about that?"
Suddenly a flare of red catches your attention as you glance to the side to see a fuming Idia who snuck over to your side. Wrapping a possessive arm around your middle, the original Idia glared at the fake and gritted his sharp teeth. "Listen here, bucko. You ain't getting more action than me, so buzz off!" He towers over you, hair threatening to burn orange if this fake continues to toy with you. "You wanna play, huh? Only one of us can have her, and you're nothing but a MagicMart knock-off!"
Cocking its head to the side, the copy snorted. It didn't seem to relent its hold it had on you. Instead, it leaned in towards Idia with a taunting stare. "Yeah? Why don't you ask the Prefect, hm? Seems like our little guest is enjoying all the attention." Both of them glance down at you, who seemed to be busy turning red to even give a proper response.
The blotted copy takes its hand to cup your cheek gently, but it was only a ruse as it forces you to look at Idia, eyes hazy with want. The way your breath shudders makes the original itch to steal you away from the copy.
"Don't you?"
Take that ending however you will. Idia does end up confessing to you once his copy is reduced to ink once more.
"Don't give me that look, Prefect. You totally loved seeing me get all riled up. And don't you dare deny you hated the idea of getting sandwiched by two of me... Please don't make me say it. I ain't good at the 'asking out' part, but I don't wanna skip over to straight up dating. Ugh, fine. I actually liked you for a really long time, and oh Great Seven, I just hope that I'm saying the right stuff to get onto your route. You're the only route that I wanna pursue."
MALLEUS DRACONIA (Book 7 is incomplete at the time of this posting)
Had it not been for the lack of potency in the blot, OB!Malleus would have been the end of NRC. Lilia was not a stranger to Malleus's ability to change the environment based on his mood. Even when this was a mere fake that they were dealing with, no one really wants to find out the consequences of upsetting the copy.
Malleus looks down on his Overblotted self. It was a flawed part of him, but nonetheless, a part of him that he was most disappointed by. The Fae Prince should know better than to act so wickedly, but the original understands. He tries to be as sympathetic as he can be for the copy, but it was only indifferent to what the original demanded of it.
Being the concerned friend that you were, you went to see them both despite all warnings from Sebek. Admittedly, Malleus would rather you be as far away from this poor imitation as possible. He does not want to see you hurt, let alone be at the mercy of his copy. Alas, it is too late now. The blotted copy will not allow you to leave.
Malleus hid his frustrations and anger underneath that collected demeanor. The only thing keeping him from doing anything rash was the fact that you were cradled against his chest. With a protective arm holding your waist, you were seated upon the fae's lap. The copy is forced to look up at him as he sat on his makeshift throne, and the fury behind its eyes is most evident, based on the way its hands grip your knees as if it were the only piece of you left.
Alas, it is only a stalemate now. With each tug that the copy made at your lower half, Malleus would simply pull you closer to him in turn. The fae hummed, glaring down at the copy who seems indifferent to intimidation. "Prefect, you may only say the word and this fake will be no more." He grunted, and you resist the urge to whimper as the copy's lips turned upwards into a smile. "If you wish for it, Prefect, I will disappear." It cooed, and the glint in its eyes reflecting the madness of blot.
Hesitantly, you shake your head and only feel Malleus's nails brush against your waist. "I don't want you to disappear." You whispered meekly, uncertain of what to think of the fake's lovestruck gaze. "Prefect, do you know what I can give you?" Even as the fake is forced down by the original, it still has the nerve to reach out and cup your cheek. "I can grant your dreams. I can make your fantasies a reality. I can give you everything."
Malleus lets out a breath of warning, leaning down to your ear as he narrowed his eyes at the fake with restraint. "Do not listen to this mockery, Prefect." His words are tinged with a hint of desperation, as if he had something to hide, something to shield you from. No matter how much he attempts to intimidate the fake, his blotted self presses on with a cruel smile.
"Prefect, all you have to do is love me, fear me, and do as I say. I will be your servant to will, to rule, to ruin." You are frozen as Malleus loses his temper, swinging out his staff to dispel the fake once and for all. Much to his dismay, his blotted self backs away just in time as its glowing green eyes lock onto yours once more.
"All you have to do is stay with me, forever."
The campus lets out a collective sigh of relief when the OB!Malleus disappears. However, suddenly, the entire campus is holding its breath again when Malleus doesn't immediately let you leave his room.
"Prefect, I beseech for your forgiveness. I fear that the fake has reflected my most selfish desires... You have nothing to fear, for I shall never withhold you against your will. How could I do such a thing when I am already so weak to your whims? ... Perhaps you do not have to stay forever to render me your servant. I pine for you, Prefect. My heart has already been yours long before I noticed. Please, grant me your forgiveness, Prefect, lest you cast me aside and I shall let my feelings fade with time."
After graduating from Night Raven College, you found work compounding medicinal remedies. Even without magical abilities, your knowledge allows you to craft basic potions and cures that don’t require a medical license—a quiet life at a local apothecary. And yet, for some reason, you are sharing an apartment with Jade Leech.
The two of you had been on good terms during your school days. Even after his graduation, the bond remained; he would visit as an alumnus and often stayed over at Ramshackle Dorm. Then came the days leading up to your own graduation. As you were hunched over a desk, scouting for apartments near your new workplace, Jade peered over your shoulder from behind.
"A wooden apartment building like this… I'm afraid the lack of security leaves much to be desired."
"Mmm, I know, but anything more substantial is way out of my budget."
"I see."
He paused, a polite smile playing on his lips.
"In that case, how would you feel about living with me?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
Before you knew it, he had swept you along with his logic, and the room-sharing agreement was finalized. It remains, to this day, utterly baffling.
According to Grim, "My henchman got rolled like a rug! He played 'em like a fiddle with those crocodile tears and knocked 'em out cold, y'know!"
So here you are, wondering "How did it end up like this?" while letting the current of daily life with Jade carry you along. Jade covers the lion's share of the rent and groceries; the amount you pay him monthly is roughly the same as what you would have paid for that flimsy wooden apartment.
Since that arrangement felt terribly unequal, it became tradition for you to provide the sweets and desserts. To make up for the financial imbalance, you’ve become something of a connoisseur, keeping a sharp eye out for the latest treats.
If you hear a department store is releasing a delicious new seasonal pastry, you don't mind the long commute after work to get it. Recently, the rise of online specialty shops has been a lifesaver. However, for some reason, Jade never looks quite pleased when you order sweets through the mail.
It's truly baffling.
You wondered if he thought frozen treats simply lost their flavor, but Jade is quite the gourmand—he’ll happily beam at a simple convenience store pudding you pick up on your way home. Just what is it about mail-order sweets that earns his disapproval? It’s baffling.
Regardless, today you are heading home in high spirits. In your hand is a premium apple pie from a high-end department store basement, a reward from a shop quite a distance away. You are certain this will make him happy.
Upon arriving at the nearest station, you send a message to Jade.
“Just reached the station!”
This was one of the rules he asked you to follow when you started living together. Since he still works in the food service industry with Azul and Floyd, his hours can be irregular. You assume he wants the heads-up so he isn't caught off guard while sleeping or relaxing. Having agreed without a second thought, you make it a point to always message him the moment you reach the station.
On nights when you are late, Jade—who might be out on errands—sometimes meets you at the station so you can walk home together. Since those moments feel like a lucky bonus, you’ve never found the rule to be a nuisance. You send the usual text and walk briskly toward home. Through the auto-lock lobby, into the elevator, and up to your floor.
I wonder if Jade is still at work, or if today was his day off?
Thinking this, you reach for the doorknob. It turns. That means Jade is home.
"I'm ho—"
The greeting dies in your throat the moment you open the door.
Right there in the entryway, Jade is being pinned to the floor by a man you’ve never seen before. Question marks practically dance over your head. As you stand there dazed, Jade—still pinned under the stranger—greets you with his usual composure.
"Ah, welcome home."
"Yes… I'm home…?" you stammer back. Then, after a pause:
"Um… am I interrupting something?"
"Not at all."
The denial is instantaneous.
"Since I am being attacked, would you mind assisting me?"
"Uh… okay…"
You can’t help but give a lukewarm reaction. After all, Jade has the man’s head gripped firmly in one hand, keeping him at a fixed distance, and he looks far too composed for someone supposedly being "attacked."
"How exactly did this happen?"
"When I opened the door for a supposed delivery, it seems he was suddenly overcome with lust for me. Thus, I have been pinned down in this manner."
"Did you cast a spell on him?"
"No."
"Did you drug him?"
"No."
"I see."
"Oh—did you feed him any strange mushrooms?"
"No."
You run through the checklist with Jade, who remains smiling even while pinned, and let out a small sigh. You don't quite grasp the 'how' or the 'why' of the situation, but if he’s asking for help, you have to provide it. He is your landlord, after all—and a senior who takes good care of you.
You set your bag down outside the entryway and carefully place the apple pie box on top of it. Then, you roll up your sleeves and reach out, intending to peel the man off Jade, when—
"Just what do you think you are doing?"
Jade’s face suddenly goes blank, and he questions you in a low, displeased tone that brings you to a dead halt.
"I’m… trying to save you, Jade-senpai. Didn't you just ask me to help?"
"Haaaah—"
He lets out a massive, exasperated sigh.
Baffling. Truly baffling.
"Listen to me, Prefect. The person before us is a male. He is stronger than you, and clearly his mind is so far gone that he would tackle me the moment we met. There is no way your slender arms could ever stand against a fellow like that. I must insist that you think before you act."
"Oh…"
With another heavy, weary sigh, he muttered with deep distaste, "Exactly how long do you intend to stay on top of me?" The hand he had placed on the man’s head tightened into a vice-like iron claw, and he hoisted the intruder up by sheer force. The man’s body lifted off the floor as he let out a strangled, distorted scream.
With an air of utter boredom, Jade rolled the man aside. In one fluid motion as he stood, he delivered a sharp kick to the solar plexus, instantly claiming the man’s consciousness. It was the practiced, efficient movement of someone performing a routine task. He let out yet another sigh.
"Prefect."
"Yes?"
"In a situation like this…"
"Yes?"
"One calls the authorities. You report it. Do you know how to make an emergency call on your smartphone?"
"I do, but…"
"Good. Take out your phone."
"Okay…"
"Now, press the emergency button."
"Right."
With one foot casually resting on the back of the collapsed man, Jade proceeded to give a polite lecture on how to report a crime. You followed his instructions and made the call.
While waiting for the police to arrive, you stole a glance at Jade.
"Is something the matter?"
"No… I just wondered if it was really okay to call the police."
"…Could it be that you tried to handle this yourself because you were worried I might get into trouble if the authorities were involved?"
Your eyes darted away, just for a second.
After all, he is one-third of the notorious trio of "vicious mermen" from Octavinelle, who are rumored to be little more than a criminal organization. While you doubt he’d ever leave evidence that would get him caught, you have serious suspicions about whether he is truly "clean". Jade’s eyebrows drew together as his expression softened into a troubled look—a rare sight where he actually seemed genuinely perplexed.
"Listen to me, Prefect. If you ever sense your own safety is at risk, do not hesitate for a moment to call the police. You must prioritize your own well-being above all else."
"But if you were to accidentally get arrested, Senpai, I’d lose my place to live."
"I would never make such a clumsy mistake."
He didn't say, 'I haven't done anything illegal,' you think to yourself. Then again, you already knew that. Before long, the police arrive and take away the unconscious man. Apparently, he was the culprit behind a recent string of incidents involving a criminal posing as a deliveryman to force his way into homes for robbery and assault.
The officers direct their concerned gazes toward you, assuming you were the victim, but it was actually Jade. He gracefully raises his hand and puts on a show of being a tragic, fragile victim, feigning distress so convincingly that the officers finish their questioning with looks of profound pity. Consequently, what Jade did to the man is officially processed as a clear-cut case of self-defense.
Once the police finally leave, you return to the room with Jade. The two of you share the dinner he prepared, and afterward, you both tuck into the apple pie you brought home.
"This is delicious. As expected of such a renowned shop."
"I heard you can't usually buy this around here. Oh, but they seem to offer mail-order delivery, so I’ll make sure to order some more."
With those words, you step squarely onto one of Jade’s landmines.
"Prefect. Sit. Kneel."
"Yes, sir."
"You were just witness to a dangerous incident involving a delivery, so how on earth does your mind leap straight back to ordering things online? Is your head filled with nothing but sawdust?"
"I'm fairly certain there's a brain in there."
"Shall I check for myself?"
"I’m sorry."
"Frozen goods must be accepted in person. I thought you had finally understood the danger of opening your front door to a strange male, but it seems I was mistaken."
"Well, I mean… I think that happened because you're just so… erotic, Senpai."
"Pardon?"
"You have this kind of 'sultry housewife' vibe, or something…"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm sorry."
You are, at the very least, quick to apologize. Still, it remains an indisputable fact that Jade is a stunningly beautiful merman capable of charming anyone, regardless of gender.
"But it makes sense. It would be a problem if another deviant developed those kinds of… 'unfortunate urges' toward you, Jade-senpai. Oh, I know! If I just make sure to schedule the deliveries for a day when I'm home…"
"Prefect."
"Yes?"
"Why on earth are you so utterly indifferent toward your own safety?"
"Huh?"
"There you go again, giving me such a half-hearted response."
"I mean, I spent four years at an all-boys school and didn't have a single suitor. I'm not exactly 'target' material."
"Haaaah—"
You are met with yet another massive, bone-weary sigh.
"The reason for that, Prefect…"
"Yes?"
"Is because I spent that entire time warding everyone else off."
"Wha—?"
"Don't make such a gormless sound."
"Wait, warding them off?"
"For every pair-based lesson, was I not always your partner?"
"I just thought everyone else hated being paired with someone who had no magic."
"There were those types, certainly. But there were also a fair number who backed off simply because they didn't want to end up in my crosshairs."
"Whoa…"
"By the way, among our friends and acquaintances from NRC, it is widely believed that we are living together in a common-law marriage."
"Heh…?"
"Just the other day, Floyd teased me about the fact that I still haven't officially confessed my feelings to you. It made me so incredibly irritated that I knocked him down, which escalated into a brawl that resulted in the complete destruction of Azul’s office."
"Please stop doing that."
"In that case, please go out with me."
"Was that really where this conversation was heading?"
"That is exactly where it was heading."
"I see…"
So, that was the flow of things. In that case, there is no helping it.
"Jade-senpai."
"Yes?"
"Jade-senpai… do you actually like me?"
"Yes, of course. Enough to find any excuse to meet you at the station when you are late. Enough to decide to act as a decoy and capture a criminal myself after hearing reports of a deviant posing as a deliveryman in this neighborhood."
"Wait, am I… incredibly loved?"
"You are indeed incredibly loved."
"Now I'm getting embarrassed."
"That is a wonderful thing."
"Is it, though?"
"Yes, certainly. Now then, shall we agree that from this moment forward, this is no longer a mere room-share, but a life together as a couple?"
"Okay."
"Jade-senpai."
"What is it?"
"Me too."
"Yes?"
"I accepted the room-share because I’d already made up my mind that if anything were to happen, I wanted it to be with you. And… I love you enough that my first instinct was to try and handle things myself rather than call the police, just so you wouldn't be put at a disadvantage."
Without a word, Jade stood up. As you looked on with a puzzled expression, he hoisted you up effortlessly and began walking toward his own room with brisk, steady strides. You flailed in a panic.
"Um??? Jade-senpai??? That's your bedroom, isn't it???"
"It is our first night together to commemorate our new relationship, after all."
"This is moving too fast! Way too fast!"
And so, you were thoroughly and "deliciously" enjoyed by Jade. By the following morning, you were left utterly exhausted but pampered beyond belief. Trembling at the sheer magnitude of Jade's prowess as a lover—which far exceeded the already indulgent treatment you’d received until now—you could only hold your head in your hands and realize… He’s going to ruin me… I'm being spoiled rotten…
ps! a mini collection of some things i’ve been daydreaming abt lately !! will make a part two,,,, reader is mentioned to wear makeup (vil & floyd)
RIDDLE’s schedule doesn’t allow him much room for indulgent reprieves, but after falling for you, he finds a way to make time. he only prays you can’t hear his thumping heartbeat from where you’re sitting next to him, your knee pressed to his. “careful, it’s warm.” he slides over a cup of tea after ensuring it wasn’t too hot. you thank him with a smile and you both easily fall into a peaceful routine as you inquire about his day and vice versa. “look!” he jumps when you shoot up from your seat to the window, your palms pressing into the glass; peach and pink blend together in the sky, the sun just peaking behind the mountains. “it’s beautiful!” you smile, your side profile illuminated by the soft rays and he can feel his heartbeat race without his permission. he nods, but his eyes are still on you. “yes, very beautiful in deed.”
TREY enjoys baking. even more he loves you. baking together was evitable, his hip teasingly bumping yours when he passes you, pinching your cheek when you tried to sneak a bite of raw cookie dough. “you will get sick if you eat too much of that,” his words carry no bite, the corners of his eyes crinkling when you pout. “it taste so good.” “it will taste better freshly baked, i can promise you that.” he slides the batch behind the oven door where its safely cooking and turns to begin the frosting. he tilts his head, looking at you curiously when you tug on his sleeve and his eyes widen when you reach up to kiss his cheek. “sorry, you had some flour there,” the words tickle off his skin. he smirks, flicking some on the edge of your jaw before brushing his lips all over your face too. “my bad, you had some too.” (ever since then, you always find him with something on his cheek. “i ran out of clean rags,” he shrugs but it doesn’t take long before he thaws into a shameless grin).
thinking about dodging ACE’s kisses and how his face scrunches up all pouty in response. “okay so you think i’m ugly and you hate me.” the firm line of his lips didn’t stay for long, twitching without his permission when you cup his face and his cheeks are warm from his blush. “of course not, you’re so easy to tease, it’s not my fault.” you give him a smile he knows he can’t argue with and he visibly sags, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “you’re so mean, i even said my pleases. can i just get one?” you push up on your tiptoes to kiss the spot between his brows, then down the slope of his nose. you feel more than hear his little huff when you press your lips to the corner of his mouth instead. “sorry, i couldn’t resist,” you pressed another kiss there. his hand cups the back of your head and his nose bumps into yours when he pulls you in for a proper kiss, mumbling a small ‘mwah’. “that’s much better. but you must give me five more to make up for it, okay?”
AZUL, who claims he doesn’t feel ready unless it’s you fixing his up his tie every morning. he tries to stay nonchalant as you pat down the lapels flat against his chest, his gaze trained to the spot just above the crown of your head. he’s so close that the smell of your shampoo floats around him and when he tilts down he catches your focused, pretty face and the way your lips mouth around a small huff when you mess up. he nearly astral projects out of his body when you suddenly peek up at him through your lashes, those same lips twitching up into a smile, just for him. “you’re handsome,” you say, sending him to a near cardiac arrest for the second time that day. he hides face in your neck, relaxing a bit when your fingers scratch at the baby hairs on his nape just the way he likes. “if anyone’s the handsome/cute one here, it’s always been you.”
“these shoes are doing you no good, i’m afraid.” JADE clicks his tongue with a frown, gingerly peeling off your ill fitted shoe(dress shoe, heel, your pick). his brow furrows when he sees the blisters on your ankle and it stays even when you bend down to brush your lips to the spot. “sorry for not telling you earlier, i didn’t want to ruin your night.” the tips of your fingers graze his ear as you brush his bangs back so you can see his face but he grabs your wrist before you could get too far, holding it to his lips. “my night is hardly ruin, darling. though, i do wish you had spoken up. i’m not fond of seeing you in pain.” “i can sit here until you’re ready to go back.” he hums as though in thought before his lips curl into an impish grin. before you can ask your vision tilts and you’re quite literally lifted off your feet, jade holding you so close and silently promising not to let you fall. “i— jade, i can walk on my own, really.” “i much prefer this way. what if you manage to hurt yourself again, it would pain me if i allow that opportunity to exist.” “oh you—!”
thinking about FLOYD watching you do your morning routine. “that tickles,” he’s laughs, blinking at you as you rub some moisturizer on his face when you catch him looking too hard. “and cold.” he plays footsie with you as you finish applying your makeup, slowly growing bored and twirling the ends of your hair around his finger. it wanes into a playful look when you apply your lipstick and a blissful sigh escapes him when you indulge him with a kiss. what starts as one, becomes two then three, dots of red camouflaging on his rosy cheeks, rounded by his toothy smile. “you look good,” you grin, looking at the red marks covering all over his face. “oh yeah?” he cups the back of your head, kissing you hard on the mouth. he instinctively follows your lips when you pull away, not bothering to hide his shameless smile as he traces the smudged lipstick escaping the outlines of your mouth. “it looks even better on you, shrimpy~. gimmie some more!”
JAMIL who starts to write a list of things on his arms with a pen throughout the day. you mention you’re feeling sleepy? he makes a quick note on his palm to stop by the cafe to get your favorite drink. looking a little blue? he dots down the address to the nearest confectionery spot to surprise you after class. you want to call him later to chat? the time is saved on one of his knuckles, he won’t be late. and some he writes down just cause he loves you. “huh what’s this?” you look at him curiously when he slides spoonfuls of hot soup to you. “i made it for you.” he knows it's worth it when you thank him with a round smile with sauce on your lips and he grabs a napkin to dab your face clean. “you mentioned earlier you were hungry so i put this together.” “huh..? i don’t remember that?” he pinches your cheek before you can think too hard about it because truthfully you never did, he just wanted to spoil you was all.
when you’re too sleepy to remove your own makeup, you know you can always trust VIL to take care of you. he stands between your legs from where you sit on his bathroom counter, not commenting on the way you play with the buttons of his shirt or how your forehead grazes his when you lean into him, whining about wanting sleep. “not yet, potato. if you fall asleep with all this still on, your skin will be angry with you tomorrow.” “your hands are so cold, it’s making me even sleepier,” you say around a yawn. “will you at least carry me back?” the small overhead lights catch in your eyes when you peek up at him and he leans closer to block the harsh glare. he wipes your makeup, stroking the spot beneath your eye softly with his thumb. “is that even a question?”
the idea of being direct makes IDIA’s skin crawl; his words choke up as soon as he sees your face turn to look at him, heart racing without his permission and the tips of his hairs betray him. but, instead, he finds smaller, wordless ways to show his appreciation. it’s in the way he warms up a fresh blanket, warm and toasty for when you get back from class for a nap. in the way he sneaks a couple paper dollars into your back pockets so you can buy yourself something from the vending machine. the way he charges your phone when you’ve fallen asleep slumped against him, one earbud threatening to pop out. he brushes your hair back, careful not to stir you as he helps you to more a comfortable position wrapped in his sheets and swimming in his hoodie. “cute,” he gives a wobbly smile, stuffing his face into a pillow like a lovesick maiden.
thinking about you and MALLEUS having matching tamagotchis which he sometimes refers to as your children. (though jokingly or not, it’s hard to discern over the serious look on his face… “what food do they think they would enjoy?” “like in real life…?” “yes, it’s important to know our child’s preferences.”)
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
m.list
ps! ik malleus part is the shortest one but it’s also been the one i’ve been thinking abt the longest. i have so many thoughts but i wasn’t too satisfied when trying to write it TwT
wow, thanks for loving the last fanart! I still got more ideas to draw so keep a look out. Have the trio art! These were for an artist alley that I did a couple weeks ago. Glad that every TWST fan that came by loves it! I even got to gift the "3 Braincells" and "Hivemind" stickers to the Deuce EN Va.
Characters: [Nightmare Before Christmas Event] Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Epel Felmier, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia, Sebek Zigvolt, Skully J. Graves feat Grim, Jack Skellington and Sally.
Summary: When the trick-or-treat trio are mean to MC.
Content: Set in 'Lost in the Book with Tim Burton's the Nightmare Before Christmas', Fem!Reader/MC, clowning and humor, maybe some swearing (?), MC is heavily inspired by Mitsuri Kanroji from Demon Slayer, my type of humor, boys having a crush on MC, comfort (?), fluffy.
Note(s): A little late posting because I started writing late today ayyy this one I was looking forward to the post because it's a very specific idea I had *giggles* 🙌 dividers from here and here.
Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡
BEING MEAN
The chaos was already happening long before, when Grim opened that damned book. Between meeting Skully — a gentleman as kind as he was strange — and now being trapped in Halloween Town, helping Jack Skellington prepare for the Halloween, [Name] hardly knew whether to laugh or cry.
At least, she thought, they were all safe. And oh, so handsome in those clothes!
Everything was going relatively well, despite the bickering and minor scuffles — until that trio of pests showed up, Lock, Shock, and Barrel.
Within seconds, things broke loose again. Barrel threw a massive insect at Jamil's hand, who let out a choked scream and instantly fainted. Lock did Vil angry, saying his eyelashes looked like centipedes. And Malleus… oh, poor Malleus. Shock climbed on top of him — literally — and began pulling on his horns, asking if they were real.
The thunder started, the sounds loud and everything was the worst possible scenario. It was like opening the gates of hell.
"G-Guys– please…" [Name] began, her voice trembling. "This isn't going to help anyone! Oh my… this is bad… VERY bad…" she muttered.
Leona let out a heavy huff beside [Name]. "How stupid… a bunch of idiots fighting with children as if they were in daycare."
[Name] looked at him, trying to not let her nervous laughter. "Don't say that… they just… need a little more patience! That trio are just children, after all..." she sighed and, with a soft smile, thinking about the boys and how they were all working at least a little bit together earlier... she murmured almost to herself, "Aaah, I just wait for the day I can meet my gentleman… someone patient, calm and–"
At that moment, Shock approached without her even realizing it. "No one will fall in love with someone like you."
"E-Eh?!" [Name] jumped, her hands clutching the hem of her skirt.
Shock continued with a frighteningly flat face. "Your hair is in a weird style, you eat too much almost finished all the candy we bring… and those moles on your face are strange."
Each word was like a small blow, and [Name]'s eyes began to water. The group fell silent for a moment — even Grim, the direbeast completely shocked before started to get angry.
This won't do.
Riddle Rosehearts:
“This... this is– UNACCEPTABLE!”
His face immediately explodes red. He’s furious, and that’s because he didn’t even see the tears welling up in your eyes — when he sees... oh boy.
He wants to scream “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” like a death sentence and punish all three of them right then and there.
A big twist to someone who has wronged you in the past.
But now you are friends, and more than that, you are someone very special to him.
After the initial outburst, he approaches with a softer expression.
He thinks you are too pure and kind to be treated like this.
At first, he’s so outraged he can’t speak to you, “Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice still tense. “Nothing they said is true.”
When you smile and thank him, he clears his throat and pretends it was nothing, blushing slightly.
Trey Clover:
“That wasn’t nice.”
Even though he's angry, he tries to stay calm, after all, they're kids. He has younger siblings — even that none of them have ever been this cruel.
He is giving his attention to you instead of feeding the anger.
He crouches down beside you and offers you a tissue. “Hey, don’t listen to that kind of stuff, okay? You’re amazing just the way you are.”
Shock's words are so far from reality. He just wants you to know that without being too obvious or blunt.
His smile is gentle as he focuses solely on your well-being.
He feels that the kindness you show are rare, and wants you to be appreciated for it, not offended.
After that, he stays around to make sure you're okay, only separating after the groups are divided.
Leona Kingscholar:
"Tsk, damn brats..."
His anger is silent and dangerous; his gaze pierces the three pests, but he doesn't waste time arguing with children.
Instead, contrary to expectations, he bends down a little, helps you up, choosing to stay close.
“Don't waste energy on those who are worthless, herbivore.”
He cares about your well-being, even if he's not obvious about it. — he definitely does NOT want to be obvious.
When he's in a group with you, he keeps an eye on you to see if the words from earlier are still affecting you.
He takes advantage of how intimidating he looks to narrow his eyes every time he sees the trio approaching.
Azul Ashengrotto:
“Now... how insensitive.”
He's not the type to show irritation explosively unless he's under pressure. But don't get it wrong, he's pissed. Instead,
Azul smiles, but that polite, dangerous smirk.
He leans in slightly, adjusts his glasses, and says in a syrupy tone: “Children or not, words have power. How about we learn a lesson about respect?”
It’s a warning.
When he speaks to you, Azul softens his voice. “There’s nothing wrong with you, my dear. It’s just that... not everyone has good taste.”
He keeps an eye on you just like Leona, maybe a little less.
His eyes follow you as you walk back and forth doing chores.
Jade Leech:
“Ah, what an unfortunate choice of words.”
He stops smiling. And when Jade stops smiling… it’s the harbinger of terror.
It’s only a moment before he smiles again, this time with a sinister calm. He leans closer to Azul, with that air of complicity that never means anything good.
Then, when he speaks to you, his tone changes a little, more gentle than ever he already is normally.
“Ignore empty words, prefect.”
He asks with an unsettling smile if he should give those three "etiquette lessons."
He wants you to feel protected and comfortable, even if doesn't seem like it at first sight.
He, Azul and the others are putting those pests on the fire before returning to Twisted Wonderland.
Jamil Viper:
“...That was unnecessary...”
He’s still a little dizzy from fainting, but anger brings the blood back to his head quickly.
Jamil isn't really a very physical person, but he touches your shoulder briefly to try to provide reassurance. It's not a very long contact really, but it's enough.
He tries to take a deep breath, to focus on you, but soon he joins the “extermination squad” (Riddle, Azul, Jade, Epel and Sebek).
Already deadly, impatient air, with a lack of calm worthy of the time of his overblot episode.
By the end of this, Shock is regretting, I'm sure.
Vil Schoenheit:
“Good heavens, the grotesque audacity!”
The personal offense is nothing compared to his outrage because of you.
He looks at Shock with pure contempt.
Especially after he sees your teary eyes, he sighs and devotes his attention more to you than to destroying those brats with really harsh — and incredibly still elegant — words.
He insists that Trey wipes your tears properly with that tissue or he should do it himself.
He has that look on his face.
"Ignore her now, potato. True beauty is not destroyed by such frivolous words."
Epel Felmier:
“HEY! THAT WAS SO DAMN RUDE!”
His country accent slips away, and his forehead is full of veins with anger.
He doesn’t even care that Vil is nearby — he just wants to punch someone.
“You don’t talk to her like that! Do you want me to show you what really rude is?!”
Then, still huffing, he looks at you with genuine concern. “Are you okay? Don’t cry, okay? You– don’t deserve to hear that kind of stuff.”
He comes over to ask repeatedly if you're okay.
Idia Shroud:
“Gah– what– wait, is [Name]?! Are they talking about [Name]?!”
He panics at first, then anger comes in waves.
“Tsc, such damn weirdos are so damn strange that don't even recognize a pretty girl when see one.”
He can't believe someone said those words to you. Okay, he was rude to you the first time you met, but it was unintentional. That– thing said that to you ON PURPOSE!
“What do you mean no one will fall in love with her?! She’s literally the prototype romance game heroine!!” Idia's sincere thoughts.
He ends up hiding behind the shadows and just mumbles something inaudible before joining the extermination group in a silent but equally competent way to put those rude brats on a barbecue.
Malleus Draconia:
“...”
The deadliest of all.
His silence is more frightening than any thunder. The sky that was calming down becomes darkens again instantly — even worse than before, and lightning splits the air when he sees your tears.
“You offended someone I care about. How dare you.”
His voice reverberates, and for a moment, everyone is sure Shock will turn to ash.
It's up to the prefect herself to despair and tell him not to do it.
Even that he is angrier than he's been in years, he calms down. Or at least he seems to, because after that, every time that trio are in the scene, his eyes darken and at least one thunderclap appears in the sky.
Sebek Zigvolt:
“HOW DARE YOU!”
The volume is deafening.
He sounds like he’s about to explode —literally.
“INSULTING SOMEONE SO DELIBERATELY! THAT’S A DISHONOR!”
Veins on his forehead, clenched fists, and a lecture that could last ten whole minutes. You don't think you've seen Sebek this angry, at least not over something that doesn't involve Malleus.
Maybe it's the combo of seeing his two favorite people get offended.
He could grab Shock by the neck and throw her away.
He has constant surveillance. He tries not to make it obvious, after all he's still in the "I can't stand humans, humans are like that grrr" phase, but watching him a bit, you can see that he wants those three to pay.
Not only for what they did to Malleus, but for what they did to you too.
Skully J. Graves:
“Oh my... I really hate rude people... especially when it’s to someone as lovely as [Name].”
He was already thinking about using Scary Night because of the all damn noisy scene, but Shock's words were the trigger.
You were the only one who sympathized and was kind to him from the beginning, even trying to comfort him after everyone else was being a bit rude. He already held you in high regard, so hearing this made him angry.
He thinks that someone so kind and lovely doesn't deserve tears.
Internally, he guess that any man would be lucky to have you, and ends up verbalizing that feeling.
He kisses your hand repeatedly, looking into your eyes. "Actually I'd say any man would be lucky to marry someone so sweet like you."
The other boys divert their hatred from the trio by a second to look at that sunglasses idiot with jealousy burning into their retinas.
Grim:
“Hey! How dare you talk to my human henchman like that?!”
Grim is as angry as a direbeast can be.
Yes, he often gets you into trouble, says a lot of insensitive things, and the list goes on...
But he definitely does NOT like it when idiotic brats make his human cry!
He charges forward growling, and if he has to, he will bite someone.
If before the boys were wanting to barbecue this direbeast for having opened that book, now they were all united again for a just cause.
After all that, [Name] held Grim and says it's okay; he slightly relaxes, but continues to growl every time he sees those brats.
Jack may not have fully noticed, because even though the whole eruption had happened, it wasn't that obvious. The lightning, the screams, the tension in the air… everything could be interpreted as just a reaction to the chaos caused by the prankster trio itself, since the boys seemed irritated for various reasons. But Sally noticed something else.
She watched the group, the way they interacted with each other and how things changed when they interacted with [Name]. It might have been almost imperceptible, but they softened. And she couldn't help but let out a snicker.
"Huh? Did something happen, Sally?" Jack asked, tilting his head slightly, curious.
Sally shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing… I was just thinking… Shock's words were really a lie."
Jack furrowed, visibly confused. "Huh?" he murmured, but said nothing more.
Ace will never let you be alone. He shows up uninvited when you need someone most, appearing at your door with some flimsy excuse about needing to borrow your notes or complaining that Deuce is being insufferable, but really he just knows.
He knows when the silence gets too heavy, when your smile does not quite reach your eyes, when you are holding yourself together with sheer willpower and nothing else.
He does not ask if you are okay because that would make it real and uncomfortable and way too serious for someone like him to handle gracefully, so instead he sprawls across your bed and complains about everything under the sun until you find yourself arguing back, and somewhere in the familiar rhythm of bickering the tightness in your chest starts to ease.
He is annoying and intrusive and never knows when to shut up, but he also never makes you carry anything alone, never lets you disappear into your own head for too long, never allows the hard days to swallow you whole because he will drag you back out kicking and screaming if he has to, though usually he does it by shoving his phone in your face with some dumb meme or challenging you to a game he knows you will lose just to get that spark back in your eyes.
Deuce remembers everything you say, even the things you mention in passing without thinking twice about them.
Deuce Spade
You could tell him once, months ago, that you like a specific flavor of juice or that a certain song reminds you of home, and he will file it away in his mind like it matters, like every small piece of you is worth remembering.
He shows up with that juice when you are stressed about exams, records that song when he hears it playing somewhere, asks if you want to go to that restaurant you mentioned liking back during orientation week.
It is never a grand gesture and he gets embarrassed when you point it out, turning red and insisting it is not a big deal, that he just happened to remember or it was on his way anyway, but you know better. You know that he listens when you talk, genuinely listens, and that he cares enough to hold onto the little details that make you who you are.
He takes you seriously in a way that feels rare and precious, never dismissing your problems as too small or your feelings as an overreaction, and when you tell him about your day he does not just wait for his turn to talk, he actually wants to know, asking follow-up questions and getting invested in the drama with people he has never even met because it matters to you so it matters to him.
Jack Howl
Jack notices when you are tired before you say anything.
He sees the way you are holding your shoulders, the heaviness in your movements, the slightly dazed look that means you are running on empty and sheer stubbornness, and he does not make a big deal out of it but suddenly he is taking care of the little things you do not have energy for.
He carries your bag without asking, grabs your lunch for you when he gets his own, steers you away from crowded hallways when he can tell you are too worn down to deal with the noise. He does not hover or fuss because that would just make you feel worse, but his presence becomes this steady, reliable thing you can lean on without worry.
He texts you to make sure you ate, reminds you about assignments you might have forgotten, offers to study together because he knows you will actually take breaks if someone else is there to enforce them.
When you try to thank him he gets gruff and uncomfortable about it, insisting he is not doing anything special and you would do the same for him, and maybe that is true but it does not make it matter less. He looks out for you, making sure you are okay even when you are too tired or overwhelmed to take care of yourself properly.
Epel Felmier
Epel defends you when you are not there to defend yourself.
You do not always hear about it but he does not let people talk badly about you, does not let rumors go unchallenged or let anyone make you the butt of their jokes, and he does it even when it would be easier to stay quiet, even when standing up means drawing attention he does not want.
He has spent his whole life being underestimated and forced into boxes that do not fit, so he knows what it feels like when people make assumptions, and he refuses to let anyone do that to you without pushback. He is fiercely loyal in a way that sometimes surprises people who only see the delicate face and the careful manners Vil has drilled into him, but you know better.
You know that he will go to bat for you without hesitation, that your reputation and your feelings matter to him enough to risk getting into trouble, that he considers you worth fighting for.
He also never makes you feel like you owe him for it, never holds it over your head or demands gratitude, because to him that is just what you do for people you care about.
Ortho Shroud
Ortho celebrates your accomplishments no matter how small they are.
You could tell him you finally finished that assignment you were putting off or managed to get out of bed on a hard day or tried something new that scared you, and he lights up like you just told him you won the lottery.
He does not do it in a condescending way, does not treat you like a child who needs participation trophies, but his enthusiasm is so genuine and bright that you cannot help but feel proud of yourself too.
He wants you to recognize your own progress, wants you to see yourself the way he sees you, and he keeps track of your goals and dreams and mentions them later, asking how that thing you were working on is going or if you are still interested in that topic you were researching.
He sends you articles and videos he thinks you will like, tags you in posts that remind him of you, makes playlists based on your current mood because he has learned to read your emotional patterns better than most people could.
He makes you feel seen and valued, makes you feel like your existence brings something good into the world, and his love is this wholehearted, uncomplicated thing that does not demand anything in return except that you let yourself be cared for.
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek holds you to a higher standard because he believes you can meet it.
He does not coddle you or pretend your mistakes do not exist, and while that might sound harsh it actually means he takes you seriously as a person, sees your potential and refuses to let you sell yourself short.
He gets frustrated when you talk badly about yourself because he genuinely does not understand why you cannot see what he sees, why you insist on diminishing your own abilities when you are clearly capable of so much more.
He pushes you to try harder, do better, be more, but he also notices when you succeed and acknowledges it in his own loud, over-the-top way that somehow always makes you feel like you actually accomplished something worthwhile.
He does not compare you to anyone else because his standards for you are yours alone, based on what he knows you can do rather than arbitrary measures of what others have done.
When you are struggling he does not tell you to give up or lower your expectations, he tells you to keep going, offers to help you practice or study or train, sits with you through the difficult parts because he has faith that you will get through them.
His belief in you is absolute and unwavering, and on the days when you do not believe in yourself that certainty becomes something you can borrow until you find your own again.
Grim
Grim shares his food with you, and for a cat monster who treats every meal like it might be his last, that means everything.
He will complain about it, will make a big show of how generous he is being and how you better appreciate this, but he always makes sure you eat, pushing portions of his lunch toward you or "accidentally" ordering too much and insisting you help him finish it.
He curls up next to you when you are sad, his warm weight settling against your side or in your lap. He does not ask what is wrong because he does not need to know the details to know that you need comfort, and his presence becomes this grounding thing, something alive and real and dependent on you in a way that makes it harder to spiral into dark thoughts.
He talks about the future like you will obviously be there, makes plans that include you without question, assumes your continued presence in his life as a fundamental fact of reality.
"When we are famous mages" and "after we graduate" and "once we get our own place," always we, always together, his future so tangled up with yours that separation is not even a possibility he considers, and somehow that certainty, that unshakeable assumption that you belong with him, makes you feel more wanted than any flowery declaration ever could.
romaincrisis
