Prompt: Let's Groove Tonight, share the spice of life <3
Characters: All NRC
Masterlist: (1) (2)
A/N: Ripped from my drafts and finally finished. Made because I exchanged playlists with a friend like...four months ago, and thought to make a playlist for TWST.
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“If the sky that we look upon // Should tumble and fall // or the mountains should crumble into the sea // I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no, I won’t shed a tear // Just as long as you stand by me” - Stand By Me, Ben ‘E’ King
To Riddle, loving you is terrifying in the way freedom often is. All his life, every path was drawn out for him in neat red lines — every success predetermined, every failure unacceptable. But you stand beside him without trying to steer him. You do not demand perfection from him, nor obedience, nor the polished version of himself he was taught to present. You simply believe he can choose for himself. And somehow, that faith becomes stronger than all the fear instilled in him since childhood.
“If it means you’ll still stand beside me… then I think I can bear anything.”
“I get wet at the thought of you // Being a responsible guy // Treating me like you’re supposed to do // Tears run down my thighs” - Tears, Sabrina Carpenter
Everyone assumes Trey is safe. Dependable. The calm one with gentle hands and patient smiles, the boy who cleans up everyone else’s messes before they even notice they’ve made one. And he lets them believe it, because it’s easier that way. But you know better. You notice the amusement hidden behind his half-lidded gaze, the way he enjoys watching people squirm just a little under his attention. Trey likes being reliable because it gives him control — it means people trust him enough to let their guard down. Especially you.
Trey knows how much power there is in being the one person you never doublt.
“What? You’re looking at me like that again… careful, sweetheart. You make it awfully tempting to bend the rules.”
“All the pills that you take // Violet, blue, green, red - to keep me at arms length don’t work //You try to push me out, but I just find my way back in // Violet, blue, green, red - to keep me out. I win.” - Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey
Cater has spent so long making himself easy to consume. Smiles, selfies, jokes, perfectly curated pieces of himself handed out to everyone around him — enough to keep people entertained, but never enough to let them truly touch him. And then you come along and ruin the balance entirely. You notice the cracks beneath the filters, the moments where his grin strains at the edges, the loneliness he buries under endless distractions. He keeps trying to redirect you back to the surface, laughing things off whenever you get too close, pretending vulnerability is just another joke. But every time you slip past his defenses anyway, there’s a part of him that feels relieved.
Cater pushes because he’s terrified of being known too well and abandoned for it after, yet he can’t stop leaving the door unlocked for you. Maybe that’s why he self-sabotages so often — because if you leave after seeing the real him, at least he can say he expected it. But if you stay? Then maybe, for once, someone chose him and not the version he performs for everyone else.
“You know you’d have an easier time if you just gave up on me already… so why do you keep coming back?”
“How can we go back to be being friends, when we just shared a bed.” - back to friends,sombr
Ace tells himself it just sort of happened. That somewhere between all the bickering, the late-night walks back to Ramshackle, the dumb arguments and easy laughter, things got complicated. But lying awake beside you, close enough to feel the warmth of your body beneath the blankets, he realizes that isn’t true at all. It was never just friendship for him. Maybe he knew it from the first day he decided to get under your skin for no reason other than wanting your attention fixed on him. Maybe that’s why he kept coming back, even when he could’ve walked away a hundred times over. Ace doesn’t really understand when wanting to make you laugh turned into needing to be the person you looked for first, or when teasing you started feeling dangerously close to flirting.
All he knows is that sharing a bed with you — hearing your breathing in the dark, watching you shift sleepily closer without thinking — makes pretending impossible now. Because friends aren’t supposed to want like this. They aren’t supposed to feel their chest ache at the thought of going back to “normal.” And the worst part is that Ace doesn’t think there is a normal to return to. He’s always wanted you. He just finally ran out of ways to joke around it.
“…You ever think maybe I was doomed the second I met you?”
“I’d give you the sun if you asked me. You could have all of the time. You could have the stars and the trees. When dividin’ up the universe. You could have mine.” - J’s Lullaby, Delaney Bailey
Loving you feels almost holy to Deuce. Before you, he spent so much of his life convinced he was inherently wrong somehow — too rough around the edges, too angry, too reckless to ever truly become the kind of person he wanted to be. Everyone told him changing was difficult, that redemption had to be earned piece by piece, but you looked at him like he was already worth believing in. And that changes everything. Because once Deuce lets someone into his heart, he loves with his entire body and soul. There is nothing careful about it. He would give and give until there was nothing left of him if it meant keeping you safe, happy, smiling beside him.
The frightening thing is how easy it feels. One soft glance from you and suddenly every impossible task becomes manageable, every burden worth carrying. He’d hand you the stars without hesitation if you asked, not because he thinks you’d demand it, but because loving you makes him want to offer the universe itself. Somewhere along the way, you became proof that he could be good — not because you fixed him, but because you saw goodness in him before he could see it himself. And now Deuce clings to that faith with everything he has, terrified and grateful all at once, like losing you would mean losing the person he’s trying so hard to become.
“I don’t care how hard it is… if it’s for you, I’ll do it. I swear I will.”
“Pulling your face close, wanting the inmost. // Show me I’m not afraid of you now, I’m not afraid of you now. // Villain and violent. Infant and innocent. // Baby, both arms cradle you now. Both arms cradle you now.” - forwards beckon rebound, adrianne lenker
Leona cannot remember the last time someone touched him gently without wanting something in return. Most people approach him with caution or ambition — fearful of his temper, respectful of his status, eager to gain from his favor. But you touch him like none of those things matter. Your fingers brush over the scar beneath his eye without hesitation, comb lazily through his hair while he rests beside you, trace the sharp lines of his face like you’re memorizing something precious instead of dangerous. And it undoes him more thoroughly than he’ll ever admit aloud. Because beneath all his teeth and claws, beneath the bitterness and exhaustion and violence simmering under his skin, there is a part of him still aching from years of being treated like something second-best. Something too much. Too difficult to hold carefully.
Yet you cradle every fractured piece of him with impossible tenderness, and suddenly Leona finds himself wanting — selfishly, desperately — to keep it. To keep you. He isn’t afraid of you hurting him physically; he knows he could protect himself from almost anyone. What terrifies him is how easily you’ve slipped past every defense he had, how devastating it would be if you decided one day to take your warmth back. So he holds you close in quiet moments, heavy arms wrapped around you possessively, silently promising something you haven’t fully realized yet: no matter how vicious the world becomes, you are safe with him. Always.
“C’mere… quit lookin’ at me like that unless you plan on stayin’. I don’t think I could let you go now even if I tried.”
Bonus because I was torn :p ::
“A little respect for women can get you very very far // Remembering how to use your phone gets me // Oh so, Oh so, Oh so hot!” Tears, Sabrina Carpenter
No one ever disrespects you in his presence. Fiercely protective. One fucking word, one wrong look, and he isn’t fighting but he damn well will put people in their place with a mere glance.
“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.” — Somethin' Stupid, Frank and Nancy Sinatra
Ruggie has always survived by knowing exactly where the line is. Don’t get attached. Don’t depend on people more than necessary. Don’t want things you can’t afford to lose. It’s practical, really — the kind of mindset you develop when life has spent years proving that stability is fragile and love doesn’t put food on the table. So whatever this thing between you was supposed to be, it definitely wasn’t meant to become serious. Just easy company. A little flirting. Someone warm to sit beside after a long day. But somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling temporary. And that’s the problem. Because now every laugh you give him feels dangerous, every soft touch settling somewhere deep in his chest where he can’t pry it back out again.
Ruggie hates how badly he wants things from you he has no right asking for — your time, your affection, a future he can barely provide for himself let alone someone else. He knows what he has to offer isn’t glamorous. It’s scraps and side jobs and exhaustion and a life built on barely scraping by. Yet none of that stops him from loving you with a fierceness that catches him off guard every time it slips loose. And maybe that’s why he jokes so much, why he grins and laughs things off before they get too serious — because if he says it plainly, if he admits how deeply he’s fallen, then suddenly there’s something precious enough to lose.
“Shaha… forget I said all that, okay? …Unless you were gonna say it back.”
“A stranger light comes on slowly. // A stranger’s heart without a home. // You put your hands into your head. // And then its smiles cover your heart” - Fade into you, Mazzy Star
For Jack, love is not casual. It never could be. Beastfolk understand instinctively what it means to belong to someone — not in ownership, but in trust, in loyalty, in the quiet certainty that no matter how harsh the world becomes, your pack will return to you at the end of the day. Jack always understood that in theory. He understood duty, protection, commitment. But you make him understand it emotionally for the first time. Slowly, almost without realizing it, you become home to him.
The feeling sneaks up on him in small moments: the way his body relaxes the instant he hears your voice, the instinctive urge to stand between you and anything threatening, the overwhelming calm he feels when you run your fingers through his hair and trace over the scarred, guarded parts of him without fear. There’s something unbearably tender in the way you handle him, like you see the strength in him without being intimidated by it. And in return, Jack holds your heart with almost frightening care. Because wolves do not love halfway. Once someone is considered theirs, they are protected with teeth and soul alike.
“…You don’t have to hold back around me. I’ve got you. I always will.”
“When I saw you I knew you were mine. If you leave, I’ll kill you. But, oh dear, I fear, you’ll kill me first.” - May You Never Forget Me, Temachii
Azul knew loving you would ruin him almost immediately. It was there the moment he first looked at you — that sharp, sinking certainty that you would become dangerous to him in ways no contract or deal could ever protect against. Attraction has never frightened Azul before. Desire is manageable. Predictable. Something he can leverage, contain, twist neatly into his favor. But you slip beneath his defenses too quickly, bypassing every carefully constructed wall he spent years building around himself. And the worst part is that he sees it happening in real time.
He notices how possessive he becomes over your attention, how his smile tightens whenever someone else stands too close to you, how every interaction starts feeling like starvation followed by indulgence. It’s humiliating. Terrifying. Because Azul knows exactly what it means to hand another person the power to destroy you. He spent his childhood learning what cruelty looks like when people discover your weak points. Yet despite all his intelligence, all his caution, he cannot stop himself from reaching for you anyway.
You make him greedy. Not for wealth or influence, but for softer things he has no idea how to ask for properly. Your time. Your affection. Your reassurance. He wants every piece of you tucked safely into his grasp where nobody else can touch it. And beneath that obsession lies something even uglier: fear. Fear that one day you’ll realize how desperate he truly is beneath the polished confidence and silver tongue. Fear that you’ll pull away after he’s already become too dependent on your warmth to survive losing it cleanly. But even knowing that, Azul cannot bring himself to loosen his grip. Because if loving you is fatal, then perhaps he’s already accepted the sentence.
"Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? If you asked for my heart, I’d hand it over willingly...and resent you for how easily you could crush it afterward.”
"Every gesture // Every move that she makes // Makes me feel like never before // Why do I have // This growing need to be beside her" - Strangers Like Me, Phil Collins
Jade has always believed people become predictable eventually. Given enough time, every person reveals their habits, their weaknesses, the exact shape of their desires. It’s one of the reasons he enjoys observing others so much — the slow unraveling fascinates him. But you are different in a way he cannot quite dissect, and that alone is enough to capture his full attention. Every small gesture you make seems to uncover something new inside him, something unfamiliar and strangely exhilarating.
Jade notices all of it. And instead of the usual satisfaction that comes with understanding someone completely, he finds himself wanting more. More conversations. More walks beside you. More mundane little moments strung together until they become something precious. It bewilders him, this growing need to remain close to you even when nothing particularly exciting is happening. Especially then, perhaps. Because for the first time, Jade discovers that intimacy is not merely intrigue or amusement; it is the startling realization that even silence can feel endlessly engaging when shared with the right person.
“How curious… no matter how much time I spend with you, I still find myself wanting more.”
“Two Lovers // Forbidden From One Another// A War Divides Their People // Built A Path To Be Together // Yeah, uh, I forgot the next couple of lines but, uh, then it goes // SECRET TUNNELLLL // SECRET TUNNELLLLL/ THROUGH THE MOUNTAINSSSS // SECRET SECRET SECRET - Jeremy Zuckerman, ATLA
C’mon. Ding, ding, ding - is this thing turned on? *knocking on your brain*. You’re from some weird other world and he’s a eel just swimming in the trenches until you came and he gobbled you right up. He might have a secret tunnel dug under your dorm. You don’t know what he did those three days you were gone. And honestly? Floyd doesn’t really care whether the attachment makes sense or not. He likes you. A lot. Enough that being separated from you too long makes something restless and sharp coil inside him.
He’s spent his whole life bored of people once he figured them out, but you? You’re like a mystery box he keeps digging through, finding new things every time he thinks he’s reached the end. He doesn’t really care that you “shouldn’t” fit together — if anything, that makes it more fun. You became his favorite person in the entire world, and Floyd has never been good at letting go of things he likes.
“Shrimpyyyy, if you disappear on me again, I’m seriously gonna lose it. Maybe I should just keep ya with me forever instead, huh?”
“Kiss me out of the bearded barley. Nightly beside the green, green grass. // Swing, swing, swing the spinning step. // You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.” - Kiss Me, Sixpence None The Richer
Kalim has spent his entire life surrounded by expectations heavy enough to crush a person. He was born into responsibility before he was ever allowed to simply be a child, raised constantly aware that his life would never fully belong to him. Every meal tasted for poison, every decision watched carefully, every future plan laid out long before he had a say in it. Yet somehow, when he’s with you, all of that fades into the background noise of the world. Loving you feels wonderfully simple in a way nothing else in his life ever has. You don’t look at him and see status or obligation or the heir of the Al-Asim family — you just see Kalim. Loud, affectionate, overly excitable Kalim, who wants to dance with you under lantern light and laugh until his stomach hurts and experience every beautiful thing the world has to offer with your hand in his.
There’s a kind of freedom in that which feels almost miraculous to him. For perhaps the first time, the future doesn’t feel like a plan someone else drafted; it feels like something he might actually get to choose for himself. And if he gets to choose, then he wants you.
“C’mon, dance with me! I wanna make so many happy memories with you that we’ll never be able to count them all.”
“Where did you learn what it means to reciprocate? // And how much can I be expected to tolerate? // So I started to think 'bout the plans I made. The debt unpaid. // And you can't just call a spade a spade. // I watch the moon. Let it run my mood. Can’t stop thinking of you.” - Tek It, Cafune
Jamil has always understood restraint. Not as virtue, but as survival. Every emotion, every desire, every private impulse has had to be measured, trimmed, redirected into something acceptable, something useful. He is used to giving without being given anything equal in return — used to the quiet mathematics of obligation where reciprocation is never guaranteed. So when you enter his life and begin to give without asking for permission, without keeping score, something in him becomes unsettled in a way he cannot easily correct.
It follows him into silence, into duty, into the rare moments he finally has alone beneath the night sky. And there, staring at the moon from his window, he finds himself thinking of you in loops he cannot break out of — not because he wants to lose control, but because part of him has already started to. You become both comfort and complication: the only place his thoughts soften, and the only place they spiral. He tells himself to step back, to maintain distance, to preserve the order he has spent his entire life building… and yet he cannot stop returning to you in his mind.
Love, for Jamil, is not gentle. It is cyclical. It is consuming. It is the unbearable awareness that even freedom from you still feels like belonging to you in some quieter, more dangerous way.
"You’re becoming a problem I don’t know how to solve. Get out of my head....please."
“I started running from the love that you gave me. // ‘Cause I was scared half to death. That all I was chasing. // Was perfect perfection. Thank god it was a lesson.“ - Her, JVKE
Vil has spent his entire life running toward perfection so relentlessly that he forgot what it feels like to simply be seen. Not evaluated. Not ranked. Not compared. Seen. So when you enter his life and look at him without the usual awe that edges into distance or fear, something in him shifts in a way he cannot immediately pinpoint.
At first, he tries to treat you like everything else in his world: something to refine, to understand, to perfect. But you resist that logic entirely. You do not fit into his carefully curated expectations, and worse… you make him question whether those expectations were ever meant to define him at all. Vil runs, not because he does not feel, but because he feels too much when he is with you.
Affection becomes vulnerability. Admiration becomes exposure. Yet even as he distances himself, even as he tells himself that love must be controlled or it becomes ruinous, he finds himself learning something unbearable in its simplicity...perfection was never the point. You are not flawless, and you do not need to be. And somehow, that makes you the most honest thing in his life. He begins to understand that what he was chasing was not perfection itself, but the illusion of being worthy of love through it
“If you can love me like this… then maybe...Mm. Nevermind. These thoughts are best saved for when time stands still long enough to reflect properly."
“We’ll laugh until we think we’ll die // Barefoot on a summer night // Nothing could be sweeter than with you” — Home, Matthew Hall
Epel spent most of his life feeling squeezed into shapes that never fit quite right. Too pretty to be taken seriously, too restrained to act the way he wanted, too trapped beneath everyone else’s expectations to figure out who he actually was underneath all of it.
Before you, Epel thought freedom was having people look at him like he had the power to carry any burden, proving he was tougher than everyone expected him to be. But with you, freedom becomes something he feels rather than what he carries. It’s running barefoot through the orchards back home with your laughter ringing through the summer air, dirt clinging to your ankles while the sunset paints gold across the apple trees. It’s being able to breathe without worrying how he’s being perceived for once. Around you, he doesn’t have to force himself into somebody else’s idea of strength or beauty; he can just be. And maybe that’s why loving you settles so deeply into his bones.
Epel always understood loyalty. He understood hard work, sacrifice, doing right by the people he cared about — but devotion is something entirely different and mature. Devotion is the way he catches himself planning futures with you without even realizing it, but doesn't bactrack. It’s wanting to drag you proudly through his hometown by the hand just so everyone can see the person who makes him happiest. The person who makes him feel whole in a way he didn’t realize he’d been missing.
Epel knows meeting you might’ve been the best thing that ever happened to him, even beyond all the opportunities Night Raven College gave him. You are proof that there was something waiting for him beyond Harveston's boarders he grew up stuck inside, something sweeter than the juciest honeycrisp. And now that he has you, Epel would do just about anything to keep the right to stand at your side.
“Quit smilin’ at me like that, dangit…c'mon, let's go grab supper at the diner before I get an apeitite for somethin' else."
“Starlight. I will be chasing a starlight./ / Until the end of my life. // My life. You electrify my life./ / Let’s conspire to ignite. All the souls that would die just to feel alive. // I’ll never let you go.” - Starlight, muse
To Rook, loving you is not gentle thing . It is all-consuming devotion sharpened into something reverent. He has spent his life admiring beauty from afar, studying it, chasing it, praising it in all its fleeting forms. But you are different from every masterpiece he has ever gazed upon before. You are not simply something to observe; you are something that changed him in return. Your existence ignites him down to the marrow, sets every nerve alight until even speaking your name feels like striking flint against stone. And Rook adores the ache of it. The yearning. The hunger. To him, love should burn. It should inspire madness and poetry and reckless acts of passion all at once.
He watches you grow beneath his attention with fascinated delight, nurturing your confidence, drawing reactions from you nobody else can, molding and encouraging parts of you the world might’ve left untouched otherwise. There is selfishness in it too — a possessive streak hidden beneath all his elegant praise. Because while others may admire you, may bask in your brilliance from afar, Rook alone knows the intimate details of your soul. He alone earns the privilege of touching the fire without being burned away by it. And he guards that privilege fiercely. You are his muse, his greatest hunt, the star he would chase until the end of his life without regret.
“Mon trésor… do you realize what you have done to me? One glance from you and suddenly the entire world pales in comparison.”
“Emotions, what are you doin’? // Oh, don’t you know. Don’t you know you’ll be my ruin? // Emotions, you get me upset // Why make me remember, what I want to forget // I’ve been lonely, lonely too long // Emotions leave me alone” - Emotions, Brenda Lee
Idia wishes desperately that he’d never fallen for you at all. It would’ve been easier if you’d stayed another distant person on a screen somewhere — someone he could admire quietly without ever having to confront the horrible, aching reality of wanting. Because loving you drags every ugly, vulnerable part of him to the surface no matter how hard he tries to bury it again.
But you kept getting closer anyway, slipping past every locked door and defensive joke until suddenly you’re everywhere in his life, woven into his routines and thoughts so deeply he can’t imagine tearing you back out again without losing something vital in the process. And gods, he hates it. Hates the possessiveness curling ugly and desperate inside his chest whenever someone else takes your attention for too long. Hates how badly he wants to keep you hidden away where nothing can touch you but him. Hates that his body reacts to your affection, so painfully human despite all the years he spent trying to detach himself from that kind of vulnerability.
Most of all, he hates what loving him would cost you. Because Idia knows exactly what he is — a cursed bloodline, cursed future, a life shadowed by grief and inevitability.
Choosing him wouldn’t just mean dating some awkward shut-in; it would mean stepping willingly into the orbit of someone fundamentally doomed. And despite how selfishly he craves you, there’s still a part of him horrified by the idea of dragging you down with him. You deserve sunlight and freedom and a life untouched by the rot clinging to the Shroud name. Yet every time he tries to pull away for your sake, you smile at him or say his name softly and all his resolve crumbles instantly. He's so pathetic it isn't a joke anymore. But that’s the cruelest part of all... if you ever looked him in the eyes and chose him anyway, Idia knows he wouldn’t be strong enough to refuse you. So he stays trapped between guilt and desire, clutching his feelings like a wound he can’t stop reopening.
“Y-you seriously need better taste, okay…? ‘Cause if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start believing you actually want this. Want me...and you don't. Trust me, you don't."
“Weren’t we the stars in heaven? Weren’t we the salt in the sea? // Dragon in the new warm mountain. Didn’t you believe in me? // … I wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again. // Wanna witness your eyes looking.” - anything, adrianne lenker
To most people, Malleus is a title before he is a person. A prince, a prodigy, a creature powerful enough to inspire fear long before affection can ever take root. But you met him beneath moonlight without knowing any of that, and instead of recoiling, you smiled at him. Spoke to him. Laughed with him as though he were ordinary. Dared to demand a name from him. That memory settles inside Malleus like something sacred. Perhaps, at first, your ignorance of his identity fascinated him because it allowed him a fleeting taste of normalcy, but what truly captured his heart was the fact that you never changed after learning the truth. Your kindness did not lessen. Your eyes did not harden with fear. If anything, you only looked at him more warmly afterward, and Malleus — still young by Fae standards despite the weight of decades pressing against his shoulders — finds himself hopelessly undone by it.
With you, he feels less like an untouchable heir and more like a young man painfully, desperately in love for the first time. In a life marked constantly by distance and inevitability, you become a beacon calling him back from the loneliness waiting at the edges of his existence. He cherishes every glance you give him because your eyes always hold him gently, reflecting not the monster others expect to see, but someone worthy of companionship, devotion… and now, love. And if fate demanded he endure every lonely year of his life again just to arrive at the moment your hand reached for his, Malleus knows without hesitation that he would.
“My dearest child of man…I would cross every empty age again, just to stand before you once more. So please, continue to observe this world by my side.”
“But there never seems to be enough time // to do the things you want to do once you find them // I’ve looked around enough to know // That you’re the one want to go through time with” — Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce
Lilia has lived long enough to understand how fleeting happiness truly is. Centuries pass in blinks; people come and go like seasons, precious things slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he tries to hold them. Yet somehow, loving you makes time feel unbearably short all over again. Suddenly every moment matters in ways it hasn’t for years.
He wants everything with you — every first experience you’ve yet to have, every quiet memory waiting to be made, every tiny insignificant moment other people might overlook. He wants to hear your laughter echo through unfamiliar places, wants to dance with you beneath festival lights, wants lazy afternoons and sleepless nights and a thousand years’ worth of stories tucked carefully away where he can revisit them in the afterlife.
And selfishly, he wants to reclaim parts of himself through you too. To redo old memories with your hand in his instead of ghosts. To experience wonder not as a warrior or a general or an ancient fae burdened by history, but simply as someone deeply, hopelessly in love. Lilia does not intend to waste a single second now that he’s found you. The world has taken enough from him already; he refuses to let time steal this too.
“Fufufu… stay with me a little longer this night, won’t you? There are still so many decades worth of memories I wish to make with you.”
“ Look up at the light // This could be a dream or it could be real // Dive into my mind // And don’t come up for air, you won’t need it here” - This could be a dream , Aurora
Silver has always drifted through life as if he were moving through a dream he could never quite remember upon waking. The world feels distant to him at times — blurred at the edges, softened by sleep, untethered from the urgency that seems to guide everyone else. But you make things clear. When you speak, when you smile, when your hand brushes his and anchors him back to the present, he feels something settle that nervous tick to be better.
He cannot breathe right when you are not near, though he would never say it so plainly; it is simply that your absence leaves the air too still, too empty, as though his body has forgotten how to keep going without the sound of you guiding him through it. If he could, he would let you look straight into his mind, past the silence and the sleepiness and the strange half-formed thoughts he rarely knows how to explain, because then you would understand how deeply he has come to rely on your presence. You are not a burden, not a distraction, not something fleeting to wake from — you are another gentle hand the world has placed in his path, and Silver is grateful for you in the quiet, unwavering way he is grateful for dawn.
“Stay with me a little longer… I feel most awake when I’m together with you.”
“Say I wouldn’t care if you walked away // But every time you’re there I’m begging you to stay // And when you come close, I just tremble // And every time, every time you go // It’s like a knife that cuts through my soul” - Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Paloma Faith
For a solider, love is a curse reserved for your worst enemy. It may bolster your resolve but heavens if it does not carve an achilles heel across every square inch of your heart. Your life is not your own. It is that of your Lord. Yet you dare to promise a piece to your love so selfishly. A piece that is not yours to give. Even if so, it is all you have. You can never promise to offer your whole self as they do.
Love is the most blissful wound. Sebek is stuck on an infinite loop, stabbed over and over and over. It hurts to deny you, it hurts to see you, it hurts to feel for you, it hurts to dismiss thoughts of you — it hurts. Love is the most blissful wound. Love is a curse Sebek has found himself struck by, like a mighty lightning bolt. Yet he is nothing if not a battery ready to be charged.
“Curse it all! I give in! Have me, if you insist on it so desperately! Mock me for my weakness if you must, but I am exhausted from pretending I can bear your absence with dignity. Every time you leave, I find myself searching for you again regardless of my intentions… so stay. Stay beside me, and I shall devote myself to you fully.”
I was absolutely sure that everyone in twst world had at least some magical ability, but it seems that 90% of ppl are not? Do you know if they’re any different from our world (or yuu)? Like do they still sense magic just can’t use it? Also now that we know that the majority of ppl don’t have magic, calling social media magicam is kind of…. I mean most ppl on it aren’t mages right?? and the app is not magic related whatsoever…
We actually knew about the human 90:10 mage to non-mage split since March 2022! That was when the first volume of the light novel adaptation was released.
There’s a passage where the Ramshackle Ghosts share that 1 in 10 humans can use magic—and even then, most of that 10% only have enough magic to perform small feats such as “[moving] a cup onto a table” or “[lighting] a fire without a match”.
We wouldn’t get in-game confirmation of mages being the minority until very late into the main story. (I think like book 7, 7.5, or 8?) Many Twsties probably believe magic is far more common than it actually is because we spend the majority of our time with NRC’s highly gifted student mages (which are actually outliers, rather than being what’s commonplace).
Please see this post for more discussion on non-mages "sensing" magic. I even provide examples there.
To summarize, this doesn't appear to be an ability everyone has. Rather, it's a skill reserved for the most powerful and skilled of mages. The average mage can, at best, train themselves to sense faint magical traces on magestones and that's about it.
sgiwwvkwkzossb But yeah, it’s kinda silly thinking about how Magicam seems to be THE social media platform for Twisted Wonderland, yet 90% of the human population can’t use magic. I don’t think the Magi- prefix is supposed to indicate that everyone or most people are mages, but rather that there’s a “magic” to it? Maybe not literal magic, but perhaps the founder or team behind coding and maintaining it are technomantic specialists, or maybe the platform is meant to be “magical” (by bringing people together, or perhaps it has “magical” filters).
A friend and I constantly joke that every social media in the Twst world has the Magi- prefix because the devs were too lazy to come up with new names 😭 So we’ve got Magicam (Instagram), Magitube (YouTube), Magiblr (Tumblr), Mageddit/Magiddit (Reddit), Magicord (Discord), Magibook (Facebook), etc.
or a look into what fabric arts the twst characters enjoy
characters : trey clover, riddle rosehearts, deuce spade, jack howl, ruggie buchhi, vil schoenheit, epel felmier, sebek zigvolt, malleus draconia (bonus: lilia)
notes : i've wanted to try out something like this for so long and now in true fanfic author fashion i've only written it to procrastinate on my work. yey. title is from a paris paloma song btw.
word count : 1.2k
let's see. to start off with, i am a firm believer that Trey Clover knits. look those hands are not just for baking. i'd say he's not an amateur knitter but lies somewhere at an intermediate level. his tension's a little uneven sometimes, especially when he's stressed, but it's a hobby for a hobby, a little something when he wants to keep busy but doesn't find himself in the mood for baking. his most common projects are probably just random squares of knit he uses as dishcloths that he made when he didn't want to think too much about patterns.
sewing for Deuce isn't a hobby per se, its just something he picked up while helping his mom out. his grandma probably taught him when he was young, but he didn't really care much about it during his delinquent days. something something it's just not cool cough. but post-delinquency clarity deucey picked it up just for mending the clothes he scuffed up while getting into brawls. he did pick up a few stitches here and there to customise his denim. mostly a few fun stitches. he did try to learn visible mending like sashiko but after joining nrc he didn't really have the time to pursue it further. his tension would also probably be cheeks if he took up embroidery. sorry deucey.
Riddle took up lace tatting a little after his overblot as a way to manage his anger issues. it's a dying art, but riddle finds the elegance of lace tatting charming. he's also this close to throwing hands with the old grannies who are gatekeeping patterns with one foot in the coffin and will continue to do so until they draw their last breath. wait a minute, prefect, isn't this just counterintuitive?
Jack makes macrame. thats it. thats the post. everybody pack up and go home. kidding. i haven't really tried out macrame, but he does give off the vibe. most common projects are cue drumroll hangers for his cacti! wow captain obvious. okay but for realsies, macrame feels therapeutic for him and its nice and meditative and relaxing. (look i don't know about macramers i crochet, okay, and it's anything but therapeutic but good for you guys if macrame is). he's also made keychains and tassels for his little sisters upon request (read: they pestered him till he gave in), but it's not his favourite thing in the world to make.
Ruggie is also a sewist kind of guy but it's more practical than a hobby. knowing how to mend clothes is kind of a necessity when you can't blow money away on new ones after you find a hole or two in them. headcanon that the community back home in afterglow savanah has a culture of visible mending too. embroidery is a luxury but people, as people do, added a few designs here and there just for fun and that trickled down into becoming a cultural practice. on another note, not fabric art per se but he's very good at basket weaving. apart from being good for food, dandelions are also good for twine and thread and thus also good for weaving. it's a resourceful little thing to know and actually make a decent coin if you know where to source your stuff.
Jamil can sew! it was pretty obvious, and i'm sure a lot of people saw it coming, but he's spent some time mending his and najma's clothes. i don't think he's mended kalim's clothes because the al-asim's are the kind of disgustingly rich where they can find one tiny hole in the garment and whoosh replaced with hand-embroidered garments that probably took hours in the triple digits and cost a few artist's their sanity. but also, embroidery culture in the scalding sands is super rich, so when it comes to traditional clothes, especially during the festive season, families do go on and splurge a little. kantha or chikan embroidery is favoured by jamil while kalim might wear opulent zardozi, which is embroidery with threads of gold. (not too sure about these, but this is my post so i can write whatever i want.)
Vil is sort of a complicated case. he isn't an avid sewist and can mend clothes. but while he doesn't actively sew or practice any related arts, his knowledge in theory far exceeds that of the average person. he's not big on online shopping, and most of his clothes are couture from his runway walks, but when he is shopping in person, he's the type to scrutinise the clothes down to the tension and stitch size. its pretty obvious he would not be caught dead in clearance sections or god forbid clad in fast fashion (you know what, good for him) but he can appreciate quality garments so he will pay a piece for what its worth. that said, do not drag him thrifting, he will scrutinise whatever pile of stuff you pick out your clothes from. (i say this, but he also might be able to find the twst equivalent of vintage mugler from the bins sooo just stay on your toes i guess?)
epel can knit and sew. his granny taught him duh. but also its pretty common to know how to mend your clothes in harveston. he's also familiar with quilting actually! a few of the ones he uses in his dorm were made by him. headcanon that he genuinely gets culture shock when he finds out a lot of guys at NRC barely know how to thread a needle and tie it off properly, much less sew. technicalities of toxic masculinity aside, somehow it's one of the hobbies that slipped through when deciding what's masculine and what's not. epel's knit mufflers and gloves before, but isn't really much of a knitter. his grandmammy taught him to knit, sew and quilt so if anyone at nrc does make a comment on him knitting though he'd full well throw hands till they shove it up their sorry-
sebek was taught by epel's grandma to knit too/j lol but actually i think briar valley holds a rich culture of textile arts so every person one way or the other picks up an art one way or the other. this boy's tension was horrendous when he first started off, but after some practice, he's become surprisingly good. like really good. like concerningly good, what the hell. why not me??? just because of that i say he can't crochet to save his life. he tried it out and failed miserably. there's a lump of stitches that still has the hook in it in some corner of his room as evidence of his failure. sebek gets like weirdly calm while knitting, maybe it's meditation through repetitive action, maybe it's a battle of composure, him against the needle. who knows? who can say? there is also a collection of plushies tucked away in the corner of his room that bear a concerning resemblance to waka-sama's imposing and majestic draconic form- what? no he did NOT turn waka-sama into a marketable plushie!!! who dares to make such fiendish accusations!!!
Malleus is a weaver through and through. i don't think there's any debate for this. He can spend hours at the loom simply weaving away in his lofty tower, unconcerned and unperturbed by mortal affairs. his loom is obviously not mechanised, and he's also a little pretentious, turning his nose up at an electric loom and muttering something about it not being the proper way or whateverrrrr. he also spins his own thread, and now i'm wondering if there's magical fibre that can be spun into magical fabric.
Lilia dyed his clothes in the blood of his enemies. hit post.
I think it's relevant to say that even when Floyd gets a crush on Lisa, and even when they start dating, he would still call her colisa (that's a type of fish, colisa lalia aka gourami) and not by name, because she would ask him to.
It's one of her favorite fish and it makes her extremely happy to be associated with it, so I think Floyd would make an exception to see her smile. It's also only one syllable away from her (nick)name fr fr so.
Idk if this is common knowledge and I'm the only person who didn't already know this, but I think every club in TWST represents something that the characters have in common.
The pop music club is made up of those who come off cheerful on the outside to hide their inner turmoil. Kalim, Lilia, and Cater all fit this.
The basketball club is made up of those who are rebellious and do not fit the standards their surroundings set for them. Floyd, Jamil, and Ace are all people who go against the norm.
The board game club is made up of those who will destroy themselves in order to get what they want. Idia and Azul have both sacrificed their own well-beings for their goals.
The equestrian club is made up of those who are strict in themselves, and often times others, as a result of their disciplined upbringings.
The track club is made up of those who give their all to be their best selves.
The spelldrive club is made up of those who strive to be stronger/on top.
The science club is made up of those who are deemed too eccentric to fit in.
The film study club is made up of those who are selfish and therefore misconstrued as cruel, when they actually care deeply for those around them.
The gargoyle study club and mountain hiking club only have solo members because they both represent isolation. Jade is isolated even amongst his peers due to being deemed untrustworthy and having strange hobbies. Malleus is isolated because of his upbringing and his long lifespan.
Maybe this is common knowledge or maybe I'm reaching, but I think the parallels between the club members are all really neat!!
We recently learned a lot more about what each dorm offers its students in terms of amenities and house culture!! I did my best to compile those details here, as well as add other bits of lore we previously knew from other parts of Twst.
Heartslabyul
The second oldest dorm at NRC.
The rose maze changes shape according to the commands of the dorm leader. There are different layouts depending on the day of the week it is and other applicable rules.
Some students have all of the layouts (or most of them) memorized. In its standard shape, it’s a straight shot from the Hall of Mirrors to the dorm building.
The flowers are always in eternal bloom. The smell of roses is so strong it overpowers all other smells.
Their rose trees will attack people if they try to climb the hedges or use flight. This occurs when the dorm is on lockdown for emergencies and/or when the school is open to the public for events.
They raise flamingos and hedgehogs.
There is a courtroom in which they hold trials and important ceremonies like singing for the hedgehogs when they sneeze.
All the flora are carefully cultivated magical plants. They can walk if ordered to.
Unbirthday parties are held in the rose garden when no student has a birthday on a particular date.
The current students did not plant the flowers and trees; they were inherited from previous generations. In this way, they can be considered historic items, and thus Riddle becomes furious when the roses are not treated well.
The dormitory’s interior has a tendency to undergo sudden updates and layout changes. Staircases can "move around" or vanish, and the doors and rooms can rearrange at random.
Heartslabyul seems to set a different watchman every day to stand at the front of the dorm.
Riddle expects even visitors to adhere to the rules and to not cause a disturbance.
There are upside down chairs and floating picture frames in the hall, as well as rooms where directions are flipped and places where the floor is so warped you cannot tell how to walk on it.
The stairs are enchanted; on Thursdays, they gain 60 more steps.
There is no flying allowed inside the dorm.
The kitchen has a heart-shaped door. Its cupboards are all wobbly.
The fridge is often packed with baked goods due to unbirthday party planning.
The washroom resembles a flower field. The sinks resemble bottles underneath; the water inside circulates via magic.
You must fold your sleeves three times for washing your face. This is regardless of if you have short sleeves or a tank top, to ensure a clean shared space.
The lounge has a clear view of the rose gardens from inside. Flowers decorate the lounge; they are picked by Riddle and then arranged by Trey (who initially wasn’t very good at it).
At the end of the day, dorm members gather and like up by their suit. Then the dorm leader leads a recitation of the rules. (Visitors must join in too.) This was a tradition started by the first dorm leader and then revived by Riddle. If someone messes up, they are scolded in front of everyone.
Savanaclaw
Its students are usually athletes. They also tend to be hot-headed.
The walkway area opens to a big glass wall so there is light all year round. The ceilings are high and the halls have an open atrium.
The dorm leader’s room is on the topmost floor. When he steps outside and looks down, he can see everything. This is meant to emulate the time when the King of Beasts inspired the hyenas to follow him by the light of the moon.
Savanaclaw has a magift/spelldrive field and what is basically a gym with the latest training machines next to that. It used to be a storage place for sports equipment.
Leona describes his students as rough troublemakers. They are also very competitive.
Their lounge has a waterfall that actually flows continuously. It keeps the area cool and is meant to represent the beautiful savanna environment.
The lounge chairs are very comfortable. Apparently the students have staked their claim on the chairs, calling it their “territory”.
In territorial disputes, you’re meant to settle matters with your fists (well, arm wrestling). Prior to Leona being dorm leader, violent brawls were a constant occurrence to resolve problems.
Leona explains arm wrestling is a superior way for conflict resolution, since no one gets hurt physically and it’s a good way to relieve stress. Plus, the students can fix their issues without having to call for him.
In Savanaclaw, “survival of the fittest” mentality runs deep and physical strength is prized.
Octavinelle
Octavinelle’s hallways have glass corridors so you can gaze out into the sea, fish, coral, and underwater plants at all times. It was made this way so you can always see the sea and has always been a part of Octavinelle’s design.
The glass is reinforced with magic so it can withstand the strong water pressure. It didn’t break even when Floyd hit it when he was in a bad mood.
The dorm is unique because it is the only one located in a sea.
Octavinelle is constructed so that even humans can live comfortably in it. (In the manga, we see that those that cannot breathe underwater are given their own big air bubble to travel through the water in.)
The Mostro Lounge is a student-run café in Octavinelle. It was started over a year ago when Azul and Crowley made a deal: return the magic of several contracted students in return for permission to run the café. 10% of its proceeds go back to NRC.
There is one drink purchase minimum if you want to be seated in the Mostro Lounge.
No fighting is allowed inside the lounge, as it is considered a “gentlemanly” place. If you make a fuss, Jade and/or Floyd will escort you out (by force, if necessary).
Azul studied interior design intently to design a place where gentlemen could socialize. He went to many other eating establishments to conduct research. Floyd and Jade were asked to rearrange the furniture a ton.
Azul wanted to make a dimly lit place with calm vibes. It’s an “adult” or “grown-up” feeling space, which would have particular value to students that have never experienced such a thing before.
Mostro Lounge has comfortable seats and luxurious decorations. Azul was very particular about the expensive jellyfish chandeliers.
The VIP Room is even more fancy and more heavily furnished than the Mostro Lounge. It is for special clientele.
The VIP Room is completely soundproof. No matter how loud you screen or cry, you won’t be heard.
Octavinelle’s lounge has a big sofa. Apparently it was replaced when Azul became dorm leader. The previous sofa used to be so old that they broke when larger students sat down on it at once.
They regularly have debate tournaments. They started because an Octavinelle student was previously framed by a student from another dorm. The Octavinelle student was forced to admit fault for the something he wasn’t actually guilty of (the failure of a magical pharmaceuticals experiment).
If even one of their students makes a mistake, the entire dorm looks bad. Thus, debate tournaments exist to help students practice arguing themselves out of difficult situations.
If there are leftover ingredients at the Mostro Lounge when they close for the day, they are used to prepare dishes for the dorm's students (lounge staff) to eat together. Azul claims it helps eliminate food waste and helps build a sense of community in Octavinelle.
Their students are known for their intelligence.
Scarabia
Scarabia was renovated with funds donated from the Asims once Kalim enrolled. Before this, the interior was more dark red and subdued. The dorm has a lot of gold now.
The shape of their roofs emulates the roofs of the Scalding Sands.
Scarabia live under the motto "plan with deep anticipation".
Students are resourceful and often excel in astrology and ancient incantations. They often rival Octavinelle in terms of grades.
There are pots with traditional Scalding Sands designs everywhere for decoration. They are worth 4 million madol each.
The storeroom is currently used to hold a bunch of gold, jewels, and other treasures Kalim’s dad sent to school.
Kalim has a diorama corner in the storeroom, which has a miniature version of the dorm. (He also has one back home, but of his house.) It has a functioning mini fountain. There are also lights, moving parts, and animal toys. He likes to play a game where you try to stack the animals as high as you can without letting them topple over.
Jamil or some other Scarabia member runs pat-downs on those who enter the storeroom. They’ve had incidents in the past where people stole valuables.
The storeroom is guarded by anti-theft magic. Those who try to leave with items (without getting the permission to remove them) will be zapped by a strong electrical current.
The carpets and cushions in the lounge are highly detailed. They’re made for lying on and relaxing.
They have a lantern that resembles a face hanging in the lounge. It was there before the renovations.
Scarabia students tend to be carefree, lazy, and even spoiled. Lots of them eat while lying on the floor.
Kalim has a precious magic carpet which he keeps in the storeroom. He borrowed it from his dad.
Scarabia’s sky is beautiful at night.
Pomefiore
Pomefiore is the oldest and most historic dorm.
Anyone that does not keep up their appearance won’t be allowed inside.
They have a ballroom where students can practice dancing.
Its students excel in potionology and curses.
Pomefiore’s interior is styled to resemble a castle, with plenty of fine detail, luxury, and glamour. The floor is meant to resemble a red carpet.
Students often discuss their looks and have stereotypically feminine hobbies + interests. As Rook describes it, everyone is pursuing their own beauty. Many students also seem to come from well-off families, as they already arrive speaking in very refined ways and with knowledge of luxury items.
The washroom is usually very crowded. Students frequently check their makeup and skin condition in the mirrors, so the wait for your turn to go is very long.
The washroom mirrors have lighting like the ones in actors’ dressing rooms and high-definition mirrors that accurately show makeup colors.
There are other specialized mirrors like ones that recreate different lighting and climate so you can always see how you look in different conditions and inverting mirrors, so you can see how you appear in others’ eyes.
The basement/crypt houses a potions lab. Normally, outsiders would not be allowed in. It has a reputation for being scary.
Their lab has a strong smell, is quiet, and the air conditioning does not work well. Many dorm leaders have conducted experiments in the lab.
The lab is set up so that is it very easy to grab things and start concocting as soon as an idea strikes you.
The lounge has a peacock throne that is inspired by the seat the Fairest Queen sat in. The furnishings and chandeliers are also inspired by her elegance.
The lounge apparently took a long time to design. The goal is to help students appreciate the diligence and aesthetics of the lounge.
Relaxing music plays in the lounge around nighttime. It is supposed to help improve your quality of sleep. This was introduced by past dorm members.
Another system emits a flowery smell late in the day. It is also supposed to support sleep. The current aroma dispersed is made by Rook.
There is a special drink (hot water) every student has before bed. It is served from a special vase.
Pomefiore grows many poisonous plants and flowers.
Students magically cultivate apple trees in the garden for use in a special spell.
Ignihyde
The newest dorm.
Ignihyde has gone through transitions since it was first built. Originally, the interior was more old-fashioned and solemn to resemble a stone temple.
There are pillars with arial displays; the pillars are a remnant of its original design.
As technology advanced, more students who were good with engineering joined Ignihyde. This led to them pursuing greater convenience when they gathered, but modded the dorm so heavily that Crowley scolded them for it.
Ignihyde is rigged with facial recognition software at its entrance which prevents non-Ignihyde residents from entering.
There servers and network systems are in the deepest part of Ignihyde, so the security there is much more strict, requiring fingerprint authentication, a retinal scan, and a password.
If you fail facial recognition three times, an infrared beam will fire at the outsider. It won’t kill you, but it will scorch you.
Some students blend in with normies, rather than looking like the typical otaku who don’t care about their appearances.
The students used their own money to buy and install communal washroom appliances to increase efficiency. (Crowley refuses to buy luxury items for them.)
These communal appliances include a salon-style standing hairdryer (which allows you to multitask while your hair dries), a steaming iron that fixes even the most stubborn wrinkles and cleans lint, and a massage chair with a foot bath function and a hot eye mask.
Student researchers suffer from back pain and stiff backs because of how sedentary they are.
The Ignihyde boys’ muscle flexibility is 40% lower than that of the average teenage boy.
The lounge is shaped like a colosseum.
The lounge has high spec computers which can run powerful simulations.
A robot vacuum cleans the dorm every few hours. It has been modified to be quiet and work fast with a strong suction.
Ignihyde students tend to be shy/quiet, serious, and/or not very outgoing, sometimes confined to their own rooms.
Ignihyde students often get inspiration from listening to their peers mutter. They tend to look down and mumble instead of making direct eye contact and speaking directly.
However, the students are capable of chatting about their interests, like manga and academic papers. Sometimes the discussions become extremely heated because everyone has their own research specialties and refuse to compromise on their preferences.
Even when it’s lights out, debates can continue over group messages until the morning.
Students rarely interact with other dorms. Even very sociable students like Cater say they don't have a single friend from Ignihyde.
Its students excel in tech-related fields.
Diasomnia
Third oldest dorm at NRC.
Sunlight is scarce.
Diasomnia’s briar acts as a magical defense system, behaving similarly to Heartslabyul's roses and obeying the commands of the dorm leader.
Since Malleus came into power, the briar have become basically obsolete since he’s able to provide the same defenses (or better) using his own magic
The drawbridge to the castle is enchanted to raise to deny intruders entry. You must have authorization of the dorm leader to be allowed in. This is to emulate the same drawbridge the Thorn Witch had in her castle.
Diasomnia is built from stone. It has very few changes made to it. The stone makes sound travel easily.
The ceiling has black briar-like ornaments to create a solemn atmosphere.
There is a room that Lilia uses as his spare storage room for items he obtained on his worldly travels. In fact, Diasomnia has a lot of spare rooms.
Sebek wants to make a library, Silver wants to make a broom first-aid room stocked with healing potions + bandages, and Lilia wants to decorate a room to help visitors feel at ease. However, Malleus says they should not decorate spare rooms without permission.
Candles with green flames are all over the dorm.
They used to have a TV in the lounge, but Malleus “silenced” it forever with magic by accident. (He was trying to adjust the TV’s volume and went overboard.)
Their closing assembly is a long-time tradition. It started with the intent of raising awareness and promoting community. The dorm leader basically recounts their day at school.
Diasomnia students are highly disciplined and move in a very militaristic in-sync manner.
They generally look up to their leader Malleus, praise him, and seek to emulate his behaviors.
Diasomnia students in particular are hostile to outsiders and deny entry even to those with permits.
If they pestered Crowley enough about it, I'm sure Ace would choose to join Ramshackle.
I've always wondered about it a bit, because he genuinely doesn't fit very well with the archetype of Heartslabyul students. A lot of the time it looks like he doesn't really fit in there?
To me, Ace is a Ramshackle student on the inside. Crowley let him join please 😔 hashtag my vice housewarden
i would love to see this, i feel he would do well, we would need to scold him a lot lol, but i can see him growing in ramshackle, especially because he cares about yuu and grim so i can see him slowly getting a little more responsible and motivated to help them
i actually have a bunch of aus where ace joins ramshackle, and let me say the possibilities are gold, i think i should post them someday
You will post them and you will tag me because I am obsessed with the idea and will be adding it to my OC's personal canon.
Also YOU GET IT. And also Yuu and Grim trust him, from the amount of time they've been together, and when you place healthy and achievable expectations on a teenager they will correspond (personal experience), so I can definitely see like... The fact that the Ramshackle crew has a more positive view of him & probably knows him better than the Heartslabyul crew would make him correspond those positive views and good expectations
If they pestered Crowley enough about it, I'm sure Ace would choose to join Ramshackle.
I've always wondered about it a bit, because he genuinely doesn't fit very well with the archetype of Heartslabyul students. A lot of the time it looks like he doesn't really fit in there?
To me, Ace is a Ramshackle student on the inside. Crowley let him join please 😔 hashtag my vice housewarden
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