Untitled

lvl "",,19//-------

[twistedtavern]

This selfaware Jamil you wrote... It is just pure perfection, I enjoyed so much. Maybe I might want the rest of the story? 🥺

Can you write more about it when you feel or have enough time?

I am. SO sorry it took so long. Here's the final segment and a link to the other part just posted today

Part 1! Part 2!

CW: holy SHIT violence, murder, intense self harm, Jamil-typical manipulation, yandere

Jamil hesitantly opened the door, the softness in his chest hardening like a shell over the both of you. He put his arm in front of you as he moved to take the first step inside, but stopped cold when you heard the sound of a door slamming shut from inside your apartment.

You felt your heart jump up your throat, clinging to Jamil, who tightly gripped your hand as he looked for the direction the sound had come from. Your voice was in a hurried whisper, " Jamil... What do we do?"

" Stay close," his tone remained steady, strong, " It could be any one of them."

Kalim tried to steady his breathing, his free hand clasped over his mouth in an attempt to muffle his erratic breaths. He had spent many adrenaline-filled moments just like this, hidden while people were searching for him. His other hand gripped the handle of the knife, shaking from how hard he was trying to constrict himself, every part of him wound up like a spring-loaded toy. This time, he was the one to be afraid of, and there would be no ransoms.

" Show yourself!" he heard Jamil's voice demand from the main doorway. Kalim's red eyes widened as he suppressed some guttural sound that nearly escaped him, the giddy grin on his face twisting into a half-snarl. Jamil was HISfriend, and they stole him away! He would DIE without him!

They were trying to kill him!

Kalim's stomach clawed at itself from the inside, having hardly ever missed a meal in his life. His heartbeat was rapid in his chest, drumming in mismatched tandem with the two other occupants of the apartment. The main door closed, and he could faintly hear footsteps muffled by the distance and the closed bedroom door.

" Stay behind me, okay?" Jamil urged, still clasping your hand and he reached for his magic pen. He was both grateful and terrified that magic still worked in this world.

Nobody was in the living room, and the kitchen was equally as empty, the only sign of disturbance being a slightly ajar drawer. Jamil led the way down to your bedroom, taking in a deep breath as he grabbed the door handle. Slowly opening the door, he took a tentative step into the room, brandishing the dark red magestone of his former dorm. He remembered times like this, where protection was his sole responsibility, but there were no guards frantically running around, no tripped alarms, no long corridors or secret passages. Everything was pressing into him, silent and claustrophobic and so utterly alien, yet horribly familiar.

The room appeared to be empty, and the pair trepidly passed through the doorway. Jamil looked around for any sign of a disturbance, tensing up when he caught sight of your phone, the dark, reflective screen reminding him of the guilt buried deep under the fear, reminding him that it was his fault that you were in danger right now. His gaze caught on your closet, and he steeled himself as he let go of your hand.

Jamil approached the closet, the adrenaline blurring and sharpening the world around him all at once. He threw open the closet door, blindly aiming his pen into the darkness before seeing that it was empty. A breath he didn't know he was holding left him, and he closed the closet. He went silent, listening for any sound around him as his gaze got caught on yours. The distance between the two of you felt dangerous, and he couldn't focus. You saw his arms open up for you, and you darted into Jamil's embrace, deeming it safe to do so, feeling much safer as he wrapped his arms around you. The second you were in his arms, he could only focus on you, his hand instinctively feeling around for some sort of injury that couldn't have happened yet. It eased some part of him that was not yet supposed to be eased, and he gave one last glance around.

" This room is clear, I'm going to search the rest of the apartment. Whatever you do, don't delete the game yet. Stay here." he whispered. You nodded against the crook of his neck, and he held on for just a few more seconds before letting go.

You backed away towards the bedroom window, clutching the sill. Jamil looked at you, and you at him, neither wanting to leave the other. He remembered being a child, shaking and clinging to Kalim as the lights in his bedroom flashed red and the sounds of heavy footsteps pounded outside the door. He remembered the large hands that mercilessly tore them apart and dragged Kalim away, each child's wailing sobs ignored. The last thing he wanted was to leave you alone, but he had to. Jamil turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

You looked around the room for a place to hide, your eyes locking on the closet. You reached for the handle to open it, unaware that someone else was reaching for you. 

Jamil closed the bathroom door, having confirmed it to be clear, his brow furrowing as he wondered where the intruder may be hiding. He looked back towards the bedroom, uncertainty compressing his chest. Checking up on you again was his first compulsion, taking his first few steps towards the door.

The rapid clawing of nails against the floor by your feet made your head swivel to the source of the sound. Two blurs of gold and black shot put from under the bed at a heart-stopping pace, latching onto your legs with a vicious grip. One hand quickly moved up to hook on the back of your knee, followed by the other, as Kalim emerged from his hiding place.

And as you locked eyes with him, a bloodcurdling shriek like you had never heard before ripped from your throat.

The cold shock of the sound froze Jamil in place for the barest second before the adrenaline shoved him forward, desperately fumbling for the door. He threw it open, magical pen drawn, and locked eyes with your assailant. Kalim was now standing directly behind you, one arm locked around your throat as he prepared to sink a knife into your stomach.

" KALIM!" a flash of white-hot rage laced with pure horror compelled Jamil to speak. Kalim's smile faltered as he flinched, tearing his focus from his target. You struggled against the arm around your neck, the back of your head pinned to his chest. Your throat constricted from the feeling of the fabric and the pressure against your throat. " WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?"

Kalim took a step back, arm tightening around you like a starved python. He was so close, so, so close. A giggle, high and faltering, escaped him, " Don't get any closer! I'LL KILL THEM!"

" Kalim, put the knife down," Jamil demanded, trying to hide the fear in his voice. Panic was evident in the way his eyes fixated on the knife, " You're trying to take them back alive, aren't you?!?"

And all it took was a split second, the same bare moment it took for the bright adrenaline in Kalim's eyes to fade into something dark and terrible and unhinged, causing the shiver running down his spine to sink deep into Jamil's stomach as Kalim flatly said " No."

" W-What? Kalim- I... I thought everyone was going to be after me, not them! I thought you hated me!" Jamil stalled, focus rapidly switching between the knife and his desperate search for anything he could use.

Kalim's expression softened, but his eyes did not, " The only thing I hate is what they did to you, Jamil. What they did to EVERYONE!" you could feel the tip of the knife through the fabric of your shirt as his grip only got tighter with every breath. You halted your struggling, fearful that Kalim would slice you open if you pressed against the edge.

Jamil took a shaky breath in, hands up in surrender, " Kalim, listen..." his voice came out steady and placating. He took a step forward.

And he used that step to push forward.

In one rapid motion, Jamil closed the necessary distance between him and your assailant, raised his other leg, and gave a fluid kick to Kalim's wrist. With a cry of shock, he dropped the knife, disarmed in what was hardly even five seconds.

Jamil's hands roughly latched onto Kalim's other arm, yanking it back and setting you free from the death grip. He left an open gap between the two of them for you to escape through, and you darted to the other side of the room, spluttering from your newfound access to air as you instinctively shielded your neck with your hand.

Jamil brought his knee up hard into Kalim's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over, the grin wiped clean off his face, only to have the world tilt severely on its axis as his legs were swept out from under him. He landed on his side with a thud and a grunt, curling up on the floor.

You felt a tentative relief at seeing just how fast Jamil had been able to save you, the desperate tension of the room dissipating ever so slightly. Jamil walked over to the discarded knife, stooping down to pick it up without fear.

Kalim shakily got to his feet, his breathing beginning to steady as it fully began to set in just how cold everything became. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, he looked like he were about to shoot across the room and tear you apart with nothing but his teeth. The realization that Jamil was now armed and irate completely escaping him as he growled, " This isn't over, you w- AGH!"

Jamil's palm slammed against the side of Kalim's face, pinning him to the wall by the head as he cried out. Kalim looked his attacker in the eyes, and an immediate terror seized him.

Jamil's arm, knife in hand, reeled back, the curve like that of a viper poised to sink his fangs into the unfortunate intruder that had so rudely barged into his den. In the eyes of his retainer was a white-hot rage like he had never seen, like he were about to crush his skull against the wall.

The knife began its rapid, lethal descent, and it was then that three things happened.

A freezing, agonizing cold spread through Jamil's core like a bullet shot point blank. The knife stopped dead in its path. Your horrified plea rang out, frantic and almost shrill.

" JAMIL! STOP IT!"

Both looked at you, alarmed by the sheer sound of your voice. Jamil slid the knife into the pocket of his hoodie, straightening his posture as he seemed to have been snapped out of his volatile state. There was nothing you could have done to stop it but to voice your panic, but now that everything had come to a grinding halt, you had no idea what to do. Your gaze flipped between the two of them, and it did nothing to calm your nerves.

Jamil immediately couldn't help but want to reach out to you, to wrap you up in his arms and calm you down, even if only to stop the heart-wrenching sight of you cowering at the sight of your attacker. He kept his grip firm on Kalim, but his gaze was focused solely on you. The cold eased slightly, and he understood immediately what was necessary. Kalim gave a sudden thrash, letting out a feral, strangled cry, but it was a fruitless attempt.

" Open the game, all we have to do is put him back in and close the connection," Jamil instructed before turning his attention back to Kalim. The firmness of his voice brought you back from your state of panic and put movement back into your legs, making you rush for your phone that laid on the windowsill by your bed. You switched it on, the device still hot from its previous use. It began to vibrate wildly just like it had the night before, and you dropped it onto the floor.

A swirling white portal formed over the screen, and you turned just in time to see Jamil pull back his fist and sink it violently into Kalim's stomach, the merciless impact once again depriving him of all air in his lungs. You recoiled at the sight, and Jamil flinched at the cold. Kalim weakly clawed at Jamil's wrists, trying his best to get free. You watched Jamil drag Kalim to the portal, casting you one last look before jumping in.

The current was strong, separating the two with its pull, and Jamil reached into his pocket to grab the knife, lashing out with its edge as the other side of the portal rapidly came closer. The slashes of silver curved around Kalim's body, so dangerously close, but deliberately avoiding the killing blow. At least, until the portal yanked both of them upward without warning, sending the tip grating across his ribcage.

The portal spat them back out into the mirror room, Kalim landing on the wooden floor before Jamil, having time to scurry backward before the latter jumped forward, plunging the knife right where his throat had once been.

Jamil growled lowly as he stood up, striding towards Kalim. The dorm leader clutched his bleeding chest with one shaking arm, desperately trying to widen the distance between them.

Jamil's voice was as hollow as his eyes as he hissed, " I wouldn't be doing this if you had just stayed put."

" I-I just..." he whimpered, " I JUST WANTED YOU BACK!"

Jamil's black eyes narrowed into glinting slits, " All you proved is that I can't have anything for myself without you trying to snatch it away from me."

Tears began to gather in Kalim's eyes, " I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I'll die without you..."

Something in Jamil's eyes shifted, " And without you, I'll finally get to live."

The fear that had sunk its claws deep into Kalim's mind triggered his hatred once more, " THEY'RE EVIL! THEY TOOK YOU FROM ME!" he screamed, " THEY DID THIS TO YOU!"

The retainer then let out a strange sound. A jagged breath in, let out as a trembling whimper of a laugh. His flat, emotionless face slowly broke out into a cheshire grin, and something in his eyes seemed to glint and swirl. The small sound from before rose into a bout of raucous cackling as he turned the knife in his hands so that the edge faced him. He gripped the handle with both hands, closed his eyes, took in a big breath...

And drove the knife into his side.

He had avoided his organs with the stab, eyes open wide from the pain, but he did not stop there.

" JAMIL?!?"

Jamil tightened his grip on the handle, vision clouding as he dragged the knife up through his own flesh, lengthening the wound until it reached his ribcage as he looked down at the damage.

" H... Hah.... Kalim.... Look at what you did to me," Jamil chided, panting. Kalim ran over to him as he pulled it out, only to be shoved away with all the force Jamil could muster, " How could you? You're really sick, doing this to your poor childhood friend."

Seeing the pure horror in Kalim's eyes, he turned to his arm next, slicing from the back of his palm to the hem of his rolled up sleeve. Blood spurted from his wounds, the bleeding only worsened by his erratic heartbeat, as he looked at the weapon with a pondering, all too calm expression.

" ...Would I need more?" Jamil wondered aloud, before simply pressing the knife tip through his cheek and cutting down past his jawline like it was nothing, twisting it ever so slightly to widen the incision, only to where it would leave a noticeable scar. He turned the blade back over, smiling to himself like he was pleased with his work. His grin returned, though somewhat lopsided as it was, " What? Weren't youthe one about to gut somebody alive?" he stalked closer, " They were screaming, crying for you to let them go. You were torturing them, and you liked it. You liked watching them struggle. You would have made them beg for their life if it weren't for me."

" s-stop it..." Kalim hiccuped, tears pouring full force down his face, " STOP IT!"

" Are you denying it?" Jamil laughed, " You're nothing but a parasite. If you can't kill from the inside out, you do it from the outside in."

" I JUST WANTED ALL OF THIS TO BE OVER!"

" Oh, so that was all you wanted?" Jamil cooed, as if he were talking to a child, " That's okay. I can end it all right now."

His expression softened drastically in the blink of an eye, starkly contrasting his oozing injuries. Kalim couldn't find the strength to pry his gaze from Jamil's eyes as he walked closer, unfeeling twin voids staring into his very soul. He sobbed, backing away.

There was a sudden glint in Jamil's eyes, just moments before he sprang. An arc of bloodstained silver cut a gash halfway across Kalim's stomach just as he turned to dodge, and Jamil eagerly took advantage of his back being exposed. He slipped the knife between his ribs, giving a lurching twist before shoving him off the blade.

Kalim stumbled, the edges of his vision blurry and dark as he turned around, desperately trying to make a grab for the knife and save himself. Jamil took a step back, dangling it over his head like a confiscated toy, laughing at him. He grabbed his gold-covered wrist and moved his arm aside, clearing the way for him to plunge the knife deep into Kalim's chest and knock him to the floor.

Kalim landed hard on his back, dizzy from the adrenaline and the impact. When he was able to fully focus on Jamil again, his vision went white from a burst of pain and he coughed up a spurt of blood.

Jamil loomed over him, having lifted the sole of his shoe and stomped down with the full force of his weight on the handle of the knife, making half of it disappear into the flesh of his victim. The blade had been wedged into the floorboards, trapping Kalim on his back as more blood began to fill his throat.

The laughter died down, Jamil's chest heaving from effort and blood loss. He got off the knife, smiling down at Kalim as he turned heel and left, clutching his side.

And as the world began to darken, Kalim could hear Jamil hum softly to himself.

Alone in your room, all you could do was worry as the vibrations slowly died down, pacing back and forth as you tried to recover from the shock of everything that had happened. Most of all, you worried about Jamil, unsure of the kind of danger he was putting himself in to protect you.

But, just as you cast your gaze back to the portal for the hundredth time, the vibration picked up speed, and soon, Jamil managed to pull himself out of the portal.

" The connection! Close it now!"

The urgency of Jamil's demand spun your brain back into overdrive, and you reached for the home button on your screen, causing the portal to vanish completely upon pressing it. You didn't have time to think about how attached you had gotten to the game and its characters, you just didn't want more of them coming through to do this again.

With a swipe and a tap, it was gone.

Jamil gave a grunt of effort as stood up. He locked eyes with you before his eyelids drooped and he fell forward. Jamil clung to you with his free arm and whimpered like a kicked puppy, and immediately your arms were wrapped around him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as you felt a lukewarm stickiness on his hands, and your heartbeat spiked as you realized that Jamil was severely injured.

" Oh my god- Jamil, what happened to you?!?" you panicked as you sat him down on the bed, checking him over for any more cuts or gashes. The feeling in his chest, this squirming warmth that felt like a swarm of butterflies were about to burst out from his wounds, it calmed him. Your presence, the genuine care in your eyes meant only for him, the knowledge that you were finally completely safe, everything felt alright.

" Kalim just kept screaming about wanting you dead..." Jamil started, " He was telling me everything he was going to do to you... it was awful."

You cradled his bloodied arm in your hands, " And he did this to you...?"

He looked at you with a soft, glassy eyed expression, " You know I couldn't let him do those terrible things to you."

Tears began to cloud your vision as the pad of your finger traced along the edge of the wound. All of this... He must have fought like hell to protect you.

You jumped up, knowing you had to help him. Jamil turned to look at the black screen of your phone, but when he saw you moving to look for something, he completely focused on you. He had finally gotten the last laugh for once, now it was his time to enjoy his spoils.

You let out a breath, setting down your phone, " Your bag. Did you bring any kind of magic... anything that can help you?"

" There's healing potions, the orange liquid in the round bottle." Jamil tried to steady his breath, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. He had begun to feel lightheaded, but, in truth, he didn't care. It was worth it, to watch you fumbling to care for him, to know that your trust in him had deepened now that you knew he would endure this for your sake. You came up to him again, uncorking the bottle. Jamil let you give him the potion, taking out his magic pen when it was finished, " That should take care of the deeper stuff, but this will heal the surface," and he cast his magic over the wounds, closing the gaps in his skin and stopping the bleeding as the magestone passed over them.

Noticing that he was still practically covered in blood, you gave his uninjured hand a quick squeeze before going to get him a cloth, already feeling far calmer now that you knew Jamil would be alright, his dilemma completely overshadowing your previous ordeal in your mind.

You soon came back with some washcloths and ice water, soaking one before you started on his arm, " Jamil... I'm so sorry this happened... It's all my fault."

He reached out to you with his other hand, cupping your cheek with a gentleness you had never thought possible to receive, " None of this is your fault. You had no way of knowing."

And you also had no way of knowing he had just killed someone with that hand.

It was easy to tell by how the tension in his chest eased that his words had an effect. For him, this whole ordeal was over and done with, but he knew you would need comfort. Comfort he was more than willing to provide.

" I did all of this because I love you." Jamil said softly, " I will never let anything hurt you ever again."

Jamil saw how your eyes widened and you moved to hide your face ever so slightly with his palm, and his world suddenly revolved completely around you. It didn't feel like he was put in shackles, but more like he would use those shackles on you if that was what it took. He wouldn't hesitate for a moment, even if he had to strangle anyone who got in the way with the chains.

It didn't take long for you to get Jamil all cleaned up. You had taken out some bandages, wrapping up the thin creases where his injuries had begun healing. He was a very cooperative patient, mostly content to just quietly watch you work. When you finished, you still held onto his bandaged hand.

" Jamil," you started, " I... I guess I owe you my life now. I don't think I would have been any closer to dying unless he'd actually got me."

There was a deep dread in you as you admitted that, letting it sink in just how close Kalim had dragged you to death's doorstep. To Jamil, it seemed to lace the air with a sour taste.

He pulled you close, " You don't have to worry, and you don't owe me anything. My life is in your hands as much as yours was in mine."

" But... how? You saved me."

" Let's make this a bit more clear. Yoube my guide to this world and give me the warmth I need, and I make sure you are never in danger again. Deal?" saying this, he offered his hand to you, and you took it with no hesitation.

It was official now, you were his.

A feeling of safety flooded you, knowing that he had only been in reality for a day, and yet he would still go to such great lengths to save you. With a light heart, you joked " And I'll take care of the bugs, too."

" That's a given. Either that or I burn the whole building down."

You let out a mirth-laden sigh, leaning forward to wrap Jamil in a hug. It just felt like the thing he needed. At first, he froze up, surprised after the sudden affection, but then he quickly caved and hugged you back. And, after quite a while of safe, peaceful silence, the two of you had finally decided that it would be best if you just called it a night from there.

You found yourself lying down beside Jamil in bed, wrapped up in his arms. He looked happy like this, with you safe and secure against his chest, all his. 

Now, there was nothing standing in his way of keeping you by his side.

Forever.

~JAMIL VIPER: LOVERS END [COMPLETE!]~

[linusbenjamin]

Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING 2001, dir. Peter Jackson

[mismaeve]

A Stranger

↳ A Stranger, Boromir x Reader, a drabble @fellowshipofthefics January Trope Roulette Challenge ↳ Awful first meeting + Roommate AU trope Word Count: 1.2k GW: None AN: Okay, let me level with you. I've no idea if this is any good. I liked the idea and I started writing it but then I don't know what happened. Anyway, I'm really hoping that it's just me being weird, and that you guys will enjoy it. Love, Maeve

Sleep was evading you that fateful night when wind was howling like a hungry pack of wolves, and raindrops were threatening to smash the glass fixtures into a thousand pieces. It was a night where only the brave or the foolish would subject themselves to being out in the open, left at the fickle mercy of the raging storm.

An unbidden shiver travelled down your spine and all the way to your freezing toes, making them curl in rebellion of the unshakable cold that seemed to have found home in your rain-soaked bones. The fire you had lit in the hearth did very little to ease the heavy burden of your day’s travels in the pouring rain and biting wind.

Grateful you had found the inn when you did, a moment longer in this dreadful weather and you might have found yourself drowning, you chose to settle your attention to the pleasant crackling of the flames, hoping that now that you were dry and sheltered, with a belly full of mutton, sleep wouldn’t be far off.

You were almost there, the sweet and pacifying embrace of dreamless sleep had begun cradling you in its arms when the door unlocked and swung open, its wooden frame colliding with the stone wall behind it with a noise loud enough to wake the dead, making your heart leap into your throat.

“Who goes there?” you squeaked, cursing yourself instantly for sounding as terrified as you felt, a feat hardly capable of scaring off the trouble that had burst through the door to your rented room.

“Who might be asking?” a man’s voice asked in return.

You squinted your eyes trying to make out the sudden intruder, a task not so easily done when he, whoever he was, was standing in front of the hearth with his back turned to you. Slowly and quietly, as if to not let him know of your movements, you sat up in your bed in hopes of getting a better view of the mystery man while your fingers slid underneath your pillow to grasp the hilt of your hidden dagger.

“I believe I asked you first,” you grumbled a tad annoyed that he had neither given you his name, nor apologized for barging in without so much as a simple knock.

“You’ve nothing to fear from me,” he said plainly but made no move to face you. Nor did more words come from his mouth which only added to your growing frustration.

Sleep was long forgotten now as you stared at the man in disbelief, too alert and too awake now to even begin entertaining the notion of getting any tonight, a gruesome prospect for one so heavy and laden from your long venture as yourself yet only a fool would dream of resting while a nameless man had yet to reveal his reason for being here.

“Why are you here?” you asked again, hoping the nameless man would cease answering your questions with more questions.

“Same as you, I believe. It’s utterly mad out there,” he replied with a shrug.

You leaned over the edge of your bed enough to see that he was warming his hands, rubbing them against one another, just as you had done earlier when the cold, wet winds had seeped into your skin, filling you with a miserable chill.

“I thought I would have the room for myself. The innkeep didn’t mention anything about sharing a room with someone else,” you spoke matter-of-factly while making sure your frame was perfectly hidden underneath the blankets should he choose to turn around and fancy a look your way.

The stranger turned around at last and your eyes finally met.

He was handsome and well-built, the garb he wore didn’t strike you as cheap, making you wonder if he was a rich lord, or a merchant of sorts. You couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but you could see the dark gleam in them when he forced a smile.

“It appears he has misled us both,” the smile on his lips failed to touch his words to lift some of the graveness he sounded.

“He could have done us both the courtesy of, in the very least, informing me of my bunkmate being a woman,” he added sourly, pointing an accusing hand in your direction.

Your eyes grew wide in the face of his unreasonable condemnation, as if it had somehow been your doing to have him be forced to share his room with a maiden.

His less than charming words accompanied by his less than delightful tone must have dawned on him; his expression softened, and he sighed deeply.

“Forgive me, I only meant that I am much too spent to have to worry about your honor getting besmirched.”

His explanation earned him an amused snort and a raised eyebrow from you.

“My honor besmirched?”

Against the better sense of becoming concerned over a stranger, a man you knew nothing of, mentioning your honor before he would think it polite to give his own name, you found it amusing. It wasn’t a common thing indeed, a stranger taking to worry about something as insignificant as a common maid’s reputation.

“Word travels fast,” he shrugged.

“Say it happened, and the drunken innkeep told the tale of how he put us in a room together, who would he say claimed my virtue?” you asked and crossed your arms over your chest.

For a moment the stranger looked confused; why would a maiden wish to feed into a fantasy regarding the loss of her honor, yet when he realized at last that it was your clever way of asking him for his name, a smirk stole upon his hardened features.

“Boromir, Captain of Gondor,” he gave a courteous nod as was accustomed for someone as highborn as himself.

You gave him a measuring look, he certainly looked the part of being a captain, even if he was drenched and dripping still. He was well-groomed and didn’t reek of anything foul. He carried a sword and a shield, and to his belt there was fastened a white horn.

“Could have been worse,” you shrugged and watched him raise his eyebrow at you in question.

“You could have been a regular drunken lecher,” you explained.

He did nothing to cover up the mirth that was taking hold of his features, no longer spoiled by his sour mood.

“What is your name, my lady?” he demanded softly.

You could have given him your name, it would neither cost you nor hurt you, it mattered little whether some high lord of the South knew it or not. It was the growing tenderness, the honest curiosity in his eyes that made you chose differently.

Instead, you offered him a careful smile and bid him goodnight all the while knowing that neither of you would sleep soundly tonight.

The corners of his mouth twitched, yet he remained soundless, only giving a slight nod with his head as he watched you settle down for bed for the second time this night.

“Sleep soundly, my fair lady, whilst I keep watch over you.”

Gif by @heilith (heheh, would you look at that) General Taglist: @heilith @kanafinwe-makalaure @i-did-not-mean-to @aduialel @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @fizzyxcustard @dawn-petrichor-world

Taglist || Masterlist

↳ January Challenge

P.S. Go check out the challenge, follow the instructions, pick a character and shoot me a polite request. First 3 requests I get, I shall write.

[rivendell-poet]

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐑)❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « scenarios »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Frodo ○ Sam ○ Merry ○ Pippin ○ Boromir ○ Faramir ○ Éowyn ○ Éomer ○ Bard ○ Thranduil ○ Tauriel ○ Lindir ○ Haldir ○ Elladan ○ Elrohir ○

GN!Reader | Wordcount : 3.3k (each individual around 190~ words)

TWS : None, but it is suggestive at times.

« 1, 9, 10, masterlist »

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ At the start of your relationship, you realise just how tactile the ranger is when it comes to you.

✧ If he can, he’ll come up next to you and use more animated gestures - often making points of contact that make you blush at the lightest touch.

✧ You know you shouldn’t be expecting anything, but when his hands tilt your head slightly to look at him you can’t help but want him to kiss you.

✧ On his part, he’s struggling with the desire to kiss you and the traditional courtship he believes you might want. The one that says he should be bringing you flowers for months, that even the hand holding is too soon (not that he can bring himself to break that).

✧ Eventually, it happens in his chambers near the eve of the Fellowship’s departure.

✧ The two of you are alone, and he can see your nerves playing up at the prospect - the salvation of Middle earth - being up to you.

✧ Gently, he takes your face within his hands. Trying to find the words to say to comfort and convey his love.

✧ As you stare, you can feel yourself being pulled slightly closer - you can feel his breathing - and it’s so easy to lean and close the gap between you two.

✧ Aragorn stays there for a second, so still you almost wonder if it’s a kiss.

✧ But when you pull away you can see his eyes suddenly shine with love, and a hint of possession.

✧ Then he pulls you back to him - this kiss being much more passionate (the one that makes him regret not doing this sooner).

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ For an elf, the first kiss should be an intimate affair - one done to truly solidify the bond between lovers. It doesn’t truly matter what the kiss is, or how good it is, just that it happens.

✧ On his part, Legolas thinks slightly too much about it - just like with the confession. He imagines the different places it could happen in, if he should initiate it. He tries to focus on the romantic details, although there is a part of him that thinks about what your lips would feel like against his.

✧ The two of you are sitting together in the moonlight, talking about nothing in particular and admiring the scenery.

✧ You speak about how everything looks so beautiful in this light, before obviously staring at him with a grin.

✧ Legolas smiles too, but he doesn’t look away, instead keeping staring into your eyes - occasionally straying away to look at a strand of hair, or the rest of your face.

✧ Or your lips, his eyes keep moving to them - seeing what they look like in the moonlight.

✧ Noticing his staring, you move slightly closer to the elf - until the two of you are incredibly close to each other.

✧ There’s a question in his eyes as you continue to bridge the gap, but he leans in incredibly eagerly once you properly kiss him.

✧ It’s still light and playful, when you stop he takes a second to look at you all over.

✧ And then he kisses you again.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

✧ Although you stay in the Shire almost permanently now (why wouldn’t you?) there’s still a rare occasion where you have to leave for more than a day or so, almost always on ranger business.

✧ Both of you have known about this date for a while now, but it hurts more - because it’s the first time you’ll be apart when you’re officially together.

✧ Making sure you’ve packed everything, you look back to the door one more time before back at Frodo.

✧ “Try not to miss me too much.”

✧ It makes him laugh, and he responds that he certainly will. Looking around, he notices the tinderbox you’ve left behind, holding it out to you.

✧ As you thank him you also move closer, hands brushing as you take it.

✧ And that’s when he kisses you.

✧ It’s feather-light, but enough to stop you in your tracks as you stare again.

✧ You can see Frodo turning red, before he wishes you a good trip and awkwardly tries to close the door.

✧ Putting your hand in front of the door you gently pull it open again, this time asking if you can have a proper one as your goodbye.

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ Like many events in the Shire, they tend to repeat if the day calls for it. And so you find yourself invited to yet another dance, in the same field you danced with Sam in.

✧ When you tell him about it you can see his eyes widen in realisation, before he shyly asks if you’ll go to dance with him again - as his date this time.

✧ Of course you agree, and the following night he picks you up - a single rose in his hand for you, matching his own.

✧ The dances are slightly more formal this time, and you spend the first half of your date watching and talking - occasionally pointing out moves that would be fun to do.

✧ (He gets very flustered when you ask him if he’d spin you.)

✧ Eventually the nerves dissipated enough for you two to begin dancing together, moving in time to the music while having fun.

✧ As the song ends you gently lean into a dip, and he follows perfectly - ending the song with you only an inch away from each other’s faces.

✧ Taking a deep breath you lean into him, and he instantly kisses you back.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ It’s still your first date, only a little after the icing has finally been put on and you’ve been able to taste it, when you two first kiss.

✧ Both of you are enjoying the cake, with Merry trying to take a slice that doesn’t ruin the decoration he worked so hard on.

✧ With precision, he manages to cut a slice that doesn’t remove any of the main decoration while still being sufficiently covered in frosting.

✧ Taking a bite, you laugh as he comes up with frosting still on his face - making a white dusting all around his lips.

✧ Upon realising what he’s done he begins to lick it off, eyes brightening at the sweetness before looking over to you.

✧ “You know, I think you might have some icing on your lips as well.”

✧ He can hear his heart beating as you process his words, before soaring as you lean slightly closer to him.

✧ Merry bridges the gap instantly, coming over to you and kissing you - as well as he feels comfortable with.

✧ The kiss tastes of sugar.

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ The two of you are walking through the gardens of Imladris, like you do most days.

✧ There’s only one real difference - it’s slightly earlier than usual, and instead of being bathed in moonlight there’s the glow of a sunset illuminating both of you.

✧ As you’re walking the sun catches him just right, and you stop to stare for a second - not realising he’s doing the same to you.

✧ It takes a few seconds for the both of you to realise what you’re doing, but instead of the usual laughs that come with this realisation you keep staring at each other.

✧ You keep staring, and there’s a second when it might become awkward when he suddenly goes up to kiss you.

✧ Even though you weren’t expecting it you lean in as well, more passionately than you were intending.

✧ Breaking up the kiss, Pippin looks up at you as the sun’s final rays go behind you.

✧ “You really do look like an angel.”

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Although he’s seen you in and out of ranger gear, the meeting between captains is the first time Boromir has seen you in formal attire.

✧ He knows that he should be listening to the military achievements of his men, of Faramir’s men, and he does. It’s just that every time there’s nothing going on his eyes flicker back to you.

✧ You get the courage to approach him first, coming up to congratulate him on a recent victory. That’s where you notice the staring, and a grin appears on your face.

✧ It doesn’t take very long for you to slip away, and he’s fairly discreet when he follows you outside to one of the walls.

✧ Under the stars, you take his breath away when he can finally look at you.

✧ When you’re finally within talking distance the two of you exchange some words, but there’s clearly other things on your mind.

✧ Taking another step forward, and taking both of your hands, he comes closer - searching in your eyes for if this is ok.

✧ You press your lips to his in response, instantly rewarded with him leaning further into you.

𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Technically, your first kiss was in a tavern - guided by some drink, and a general air of want.

✧ It’s a kiss he can’t bring himself to forget, how could he forget anything about you, but it isn’t what he wants to be your ‘first kiss’ with him.

✧ Still, at times when you laugh or smile at him in a certain way the memories come back to him. How your lips felt, the subtle taste. Something in him wonders if it’s changed.

✧ As the two of you laugh together in one of the gardens of Gondor, this time a public one, the thought pops into his mind again.

✧ Faramir tries not to think about it, but you notice the blush that appears - where he was staring beforehand. Almost not moving, you pull his hand into yours and give him a smile.

✧ “Do you… want this to be our first kiss? Instead?”

✧ You barely hear him breathe ‘yes’, but as soon as you do you pull him into you.

✧ Arms around him, he’s still incredibly gentle even with your encouragement. But he doesn’t pull away until you do, and when he does his eyes are full of love.

𝐄𝐨𝐰𝐲𝐧

✧ You know not to treat Éowyn as though she’s made of glass, she defeated the witch-king and has beaten you in sparring matches, but there are certain customs you struggle to break.

✧ Like continuing to court her, but not kissing her. Even though, when the two of you gaze up at the moonlight, you truly want to.

✧ It’s something that bothers Éowyn as well - although for different reasons. Why do you not kiss her? She knows it’s probably you, but a small part wonders if it’s her.

✧ And so, as the two of you are sitting in the Houses of Healing together, she asks you.

✧ Which causes a little bit of your heart to break as you realise what she thinks, compared to how you’ve been acting.

✧ You rush to reassure her that you’d love to kiss her without thinking, only for your face to heat up when you think about what you’ve said.

✧ But she’s laughing, a tender one that ends with love in her eyes.

✧ As the two of you are already so close she takes your head, guiding it towards her before the two of you kiss.

𝐄𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

✧ When Sauron’s scouts are again seen on Rohan’s soil, Éomer is tasked with leading out his éored to face them off and make sure they don’t threaten your borders. It’s the first time, since you began to court, that you haven’t seen him every day.

✧ You try not to let it bother you, but when word that he’s coming back arrives you and Éowyn both go to the gate immediately, waiting for him.

✧ It reminds him of when he waited for you, and you wonder if he felt the same love and affection you’re feeling now, if he felt the same nervousness that maybe your love is coming back.

✧ Éomer is easy to identify, thankfully, and you can see him from a distance away - quickly moving backwards so when his horse gets here you aren’t to be trampled.

✧ As Éomer sees the waiting people, his eyes scan over for you - looking around until he spots you on the outskirts.

✧ Dismounting quickly, the two of you instantly come together - hugging his armour as he holds you closer.

✧ Looking up at him, you smile before repeating his words. “I believe one of the things you looked forward to fighting for was my affections.”

✧ There’s a second as he realises what you said, before eagerly kissing you - and you feel warmth in your heart, like a celebration except only of your love.

✧ The two of you eventually break away, and there’s no mistaking the pure happiness in his eyes.

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐝

✧ Bard had always been quite tactile with you, if it was a hug or him slinging an arm around your shoulders as he greeted you.

✧ Physical touch was an expression of his love language, one that was made abundantly clear by how he acted around you most days.

✧ Your first kiss isn’t led up by a romantic moment, or one of you pouring out your hearts, but a fairly normal day.

✧ As he leaves your house, with you waving him off, he turns around in a practised gesture - except this time he kisses you instead of hugging you.

✧ It’s casual but enough to make you freeze for a second. And he freezes once he realises what he just did, immediately apologising.

✧ You cut him off, saying you enjoyed the kiss. That - if he was interested - you wouldn't be opposed to doing it again.

✧ And Bard is more than happy to oblige.

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐢𝐥

✧ As much as he wants to kiss you, Thranduil restrains himself at the start.

✧ Sometimes you can definitely feel his gaze on you, quiet but admiring - sweeping painstakingly over every inch of you - although it always flies away whenever you try to catch him.

✧ Your dates continue, and sometimes the two of you are so close it’s almost suffocating. But as much as he wants to keep going, he stays where he is.

✧ It’s you who makes the first move, as the two of you sit together during a date.

✧ His voice catches in a way you recognise, and your hand reaches out to stop him from drawing away. Instead getting him slightly closer.

✧ Thranduil’s breath hitches slightly, but he doesn’t draw away. Instead he looks into your eyes, silently asking if this is what you really want.

✧ And when he detects no protests, he tilts your lips up into his - kissing you at first being chaste, before going deeper as you do not draw away.

✧ Eventually leaving your lips, but only to catch a breath.

𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

✧ Swords clash in the air, never quite hitting your beloved’s armour, and you just about see her smile before you lunge at her.

✧ When her sword is brought up she expects you to turn slightly, except you do not. But what you don’t foresee is your sword catching on hers - almost perfectly attaching them together.

✧ Both of you try to pull at the same time, and you can feel yourself jerk into her before the two of you end up on the floor.

✧ The swords clatter to the ground somewhere behind you, but when you're only inches away from Tauriel’s face you find you don’t really care.

✧ You don't care about the ground being uncomfortable either as Tauriel gets closer to you.

✧ Instead, there is pure bliss as Tauriel kisses you. Breaking apart and looking you up and down with a smile, before kissing you again.

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ As a human, you sometimes fall behind when it comes to partying with elves. Not with alcohol, Lindir is very careful to make sure there is sustenance for you (and other mortal guests they occasionally have), but with how long they go on.

✧ And after having been awake for almost twenty-four hours, you find that you simply can’t go on anymore.

✧ Not wanting to walk alone, and being sleepily-clingy, you slowly creep up behind your partner and put your arms around him.

✧ Lindir starts slightly from the sudden touch, before freezing when he feels your lips on his neck. It’s very gentle, but more than enough to make him turn crimson.

✧ He peels you off him, before turning around and politely asking if that’s what you meant to do.

✧ “I’m tired Lindir, not completely out of it.” There’s a soft smile on your face as you look at him again.

✧ It grows even wider when he shyly asks if he could, perhaps, have another one.

✧ You need to initiate more with this kiss, but he’s still receptive - and when you pull away there’s a large smile on his face.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐫

✧ As you sit on the ship, you can’t help but look at your companions and wonder how it ended up like this. With your prince, a future king, a dwarf, and a partner you hadn’t had until a few weeks ago. And an army of dead, somewhere around you.

✧ Jumping up and down, your leg continues to move even when you take a calming breath - although you’re not sure what’s making it do that.

✧ “Do you need anything?” Haldir’s voice comes from next to you, and then he sits down - looking at you with concern, although not something patronising.

✧ You shake your head, but he still reaches out to hold your hand.

✧ And then, feeling almost alone on the water, Haldir gets closer again. This time with all of you only a little apart.

✧ When he leans in to kiss you, he hardly has to move because of the space, and he has to move even less when you go to meet him.

✧ The kiss is slow, loving, and when you open your eyes again you see him smiling back at you.

✧ Enquiring if it was just as magical for you as it was for him.

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐧

✧ Only a few weeks into your relationship, you can occasionally feel stares at you. Stares that you recognise, that are familiar.

✧ Although perhaps not familiar in terms of the romance and want that’s directed through them.

✧ But you also know that, for as lovely as Elladan is, he might not make the first movement. He’s too content to admire your beauty from afar.

✧ So you take the initiative, as the two of you read together in the library.

✧ Thumbing through your romance book, you leave the page open as you lean against Elladan’s shoulder - looking up at him and trying not to look two guilty.

✧ His gaze softens as he sees you, before trailing down and seeing the book you’ve been reading. It’s one he gifted you, a long time ago, and he looks from the pages again to you.

✧ Elladan opens his mouth as if to ask you a question before he thinks better of it, instead leaning in - gently pressing his lips on yours.

𝐄𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐫

✧ As flirty as he can be, Elrohir is actually somewhat restrained when it comes to asking you if you’ll kiss him.

✧ He much prefers to give mournful glances across the room, eyes lingering at your lips for slightly too long - but never enough to be caught by anyone else.

✧ If you didn’t know him better you’d say he was waiting for an opportunity, but exactly what it is you can’t tell.

✧ And then the two of you are outside the city walls, sharing blackberries together and talking about some story or another.

✧ Half way through you notice his gaze isn’t entirely focused, or more accurately not focused on your eyes. Just slightly lower down.

✧ A look must show up on your face because he laughs, sheepish but not ashamed. “Does it taste nice?”

✧ “Does what?”

✧ “The blackberries.” It’s an innocent statement, but he’s slightly closer to you. Head tilted in a way that could be questioning, but is something more.

✧ You’re almost tongue tied in your answer, but you manage to get out, “Why don’t you try-”

✧ You just about finish the sentence when he kisses you, stopping briefly - to taste the berry tint on your lips - before returning just to you.

✧ When the two of you finally break apart he looks much too pleased with himself.

A/N : Guess who forgot to queue this and only realise now? Hi again, and thanks again for reading. Also, sorry if some of these are awkward/repetitive - I'm more than open to feedback <3

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[monstersflashlight]

Day 10. Monster-kinktober: Eyes everywhere + Double penetration/Voyeurism

A/N: This is thanks to @yesdangerpls and the general braindstorming of the discord server (reminder that if you are a Patreon you can join).

Forest entity x Multiple monsters x fem!reader || Free use, voyeurism, bondage, tentacle sex (vines), sharing is caring, double penetration, blindfolds

He makes sure you are tied correctly so your body is suspended in mid air by his vines, and your eyes are covered by big leaves he created to “not hurt your soft human skin”, his words. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you can feel him in every twitch of the vines around your body, in every caress of the breeze across your naked body. He’s not there, but he’s everywhere.

As soon as the night falls, you can feel thousands of eyes on you. The forest waking up as your body reacts accordingly, getting hot with anticipation, fire burning in your lower stomach. It’s exhilarating to be exposed for everyone to see, for everyone to use.

And it feels amazing.

You can’t see anything, your eyes completely covered, but you can hear them around you. Steps and growls, some roars and a few soft whimpers. You don’t know what’s happening, but before you can process it fully, one of his vines twitches around your ankle, pushing your legs further apart and exposing to whoever is in front of you.

You hear them sniffling, and then you feel a rough tongue against your leg. You twitch in your restrains, startled by the movement, the monster growls and you groan in response, your pussy getting wet with anticipation. The tongue travels up and up and up… and by the time it licks over your needy center you are about to scream. But he wouldn’t let you disturb the peace of the forest, so a vine is rapidly stuffed inside your mouth. You moan around it, their tongue working you into a frenzy of sensations. They are feasting on your pussy and you are unable to do anything about it. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

The first orgasm catches you off guard, and the vines tighten around your body to keep you still as they take their fill, licking every drop of your desire until they are satisfied. But you aren’t alone for much longer, the tip of some cock right there. Whatever monster in front of you grunts in recognition, their clawed fingers running down your inner tights making your breath catch in your throat as their dick presses inside. They aren’t that big, not bigger than your mate, but you feel every ridge of their cock against your walls, making you whimper with over-sensitivity after the orgasm.

You know he’s looking when the vines around your body tighten, some of them exploring your body as the monster before you grunts and pounds into you faster. The combination of the dick inside of you and the vines exploring your body makes your body transcend into a new reality where you are the soul of the forest and your body is for every monster to use.

They pound into you until your brain is melting and your body is limp, one after the other, orgasm after orgasm… Some lick, some fuck, and others only explore your holes until you are coming around their wandering fingers. He never releases you, and the vines in your mouth never leave, only letting you brokenly moan and groan with each new sensation.

By the time the fifth (maybe sixth?) dick pushes inside of you, you are tired and exhausted, but still so freaking horny you don’t know what to do with yourself. But he knows, of course he knows. He teases your asshole with another vine, the dick in your pussy twitching when the vine pushes in, caressing his dick across the thin flesh between your holes. The sensation is indescribable, making the monster spill inside of you as the vine fucks the orgasm out of them.

When the monster pulls out of your pussy, you feel their release leaking out with all the other before them, and the mixed sensation of the vine in your ass and the maddening fucking you experienced is enough to make you explode into a huge orgasm. Your legs and arms are tingling, and your pussy contracts around the vines firmly fucking into you. The keep going until you can feel your body sagging against the restrains and a sweet smell reaches your nostrils. The vines pull back at the same time he walks to you.

“You did so great, my mate. You the perfect little human for all of us, for me,” he whispers behind you.

The vines around your body slowly start disappearing back into his body as his wooden hands grab you by the waist. He hugs you against his body and you hid your face against the vines and roots of his neck. He smells like petrichor, and you feel like everything is right in the world when you are pressed against his hard body. The sacrifice to the forest was made, your mate remains the caregiver of them all, and now you are one, too.

“Take me home,” you whisper as he kisses your forehead.

“Of course, my mate, you did so well…” He compliments you again, his voice full of affection. Your body is too tired to keep your eyes open anymore. “Sleep, my mate, I’ll keep you safe.”

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Notre Petite Bonbonnière - Jade Leech

SUMMARY: He wanted to take advantage of that collaboration with Foothill Town to have a date with you. However, someone unexpectedly joins you, but that doesn’t stop him from surprising you in the end.

CHARACTERS: Jade Leech x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Newly Dating; Flirting; Kiss

WARNING: Spoilers from Jade SSR La Bonbonnière

WORD COUNT: 4.420 words

COMMENTS: This was written before the cards were released on the English server, so I based it on @mysteryshoptls translations. And @ Valkyriii on youtube. You can read here the translated Vignette and Voice Lines.

This was also written as a supplement to the vignette’s story, therefore some parts that are identical are summarized. 

And this new fanfic series is my way of celebrating 6K Subscribers. Thank you so much! ❤️

I hope you enjoy! 🎂

Notre Petite Bonbonnière: Jamil / Ace / Jack / Trey / (Jade) / Floyd / Rook / Idia / Lilia / Malleus / Cater / Azul / Sebek / Vil / Ruggie / Epel / Silver / Deuce / Kalim / Leona / Ortho / Riddle

VIGNETTE CONTEXT: A collaborative project between Foothill Town and Night Raven College that aims to promote potential places to visit on Sage’s Island involves asking the birthday student to select an outfit that catches his eye from one of the options provided by the town’s tailor, and showcase a place on the island he would recommend.

You were chosen to film him in his new outfit, presenting the place he chooses and explaining why he likes it. The long-standing pâtisserie, Bonbon Recette, will also have a birthday cake prepared for him.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Jade wouldn't mind revealing that you two are dating. But on the other hand, he doesn't like people knowing too much about his life, and your relationship is still very recent, so he'd like to start in secret so you can explore your relationship more calmly. That and it's also fun to say ambiguous things that confuse other people.

“So, we’re to showcase Sage’s Island, is it?” Jade says, walking with you down the Main Street of Night Raven College. “It seems like it'll be a birthday that's a little different from usual. Not only that, but it's also my first birthday with you as my partner. Heheh. I'm looking forward to it. Now then... Whatever shall I have my lovely assistant (Y/N)-san do for me first, I wonder?” He smirks with his sharp teeth.

You don't take a step back, you just smile, in a complicit manner.

“Not even a hint of tension, I see.” He sighs, still with an amused smile. “It seems that this is the price I must pay for an intimate relationship with you. Very well...” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “...we'll see how long you can keep your composure today.” He straightens up. “But until then, please accompany me in choosing an outfit.”

Already in Foothill Town, at the tailor's Sewing Room, you help Jade choose his birthday outfit. He says that since wearing clothes is something very new to him, he still has difficulty choosing outfits to go out in.

“So having you here with me is truly reassuring, (Y/N)-san.” Jade says. “I'd like to hear your opinions on various things.”

It's one of two things: either he really needed help or he was provoking you, because each color combination he chose was worse than the last. A white suit with large red polka dots or a bright purple shirt to pair with a golden suit.

“That one doesn't appeal to you either?” He says with his pitying smile. “My, my, what a predicament. You have quite the specific tastes, don't you, (Y/N)-san? Although... I should have known that by now, since you chose me to be your boyfriend after all. In that case, what do you think would be good? I'd love to hear your dependable opinion.”

“I think the brown jacket would suit you.” You suggest.

“I see. It has a nice and tight silhouette. However... Do you not think it too simple of an outfit? I feel like you would be able to select something with a bit more pizzazz.” You know Jade well enough to know that this was his veiled way of saying, ‘I expected you to have more interesting taste.’ Especially because of the cynical way he was smiling. “Well, after the atrocious pieces you've been choosing, I was afraid that if I gave you something with a bit more pizzazz, you'd eventually ruin the rest of the look.” You reply. “Ouch... Such harsh words, my dear. Here I was, showing my vulnerability regarding my difficulty in understanding the aesthetic sense on land, only for you to humiliate me with it. *sniff*.” “Oh, please, you were doing that on purpose to provoke me.” You smirk. “I could even bet that you enjoy seeing me annoyed at you.” “Enjoy? Heh heh. Are you perhaps implying that I derive some kind of pleasure from that?” He smirks back. “Do you?” He just stands there smiling for a moment. “Isn't this one of those questions you should figure out the answer by yourself? From what I've heard, many relationships involve these kinds of questions that only the other person can answer correctly. But we shouldn't dwell on this matter. We must choose an outfit for today within a reasonable length of time. Otherwise, what might people imagine has transpired between us here if we take too long?” His sharp teeth show through his smile. “What are you talking about? Nothing happened.” “But they don't know that. And often people tend to create their own versions of events they don't knowing the truth about.” “And what if the version they would create was the true one?” You suggest, immediately causing Jade's eyebrows to rise. “Oh~” He smiles, showing his sharp teeth, with considerable interest and curiosity in his eyes. “And how do you think that scenario would play out?” “Well~” You approach him with, holding a checkered coat behind your back. “Maybe something like...” You hand him the new coat. “You trying on a bunch of clothes until you finally find the right one because your partner is too ‘picky’.” He sighs, amusedly disappointed. “You torture me, my dear.”

“How about a checkered coat?” You ask.

“This one... gives off a bright and airy feel.” Jade smiles. “The buttons and flair around the wrists are also exquisite. I think I like it as well. It’s not something I would have chosen for myself, so it does feel nice.” He looks at you, captivated. “I knew there was no need to worry, with you to help me. You truly are a dependable person.” “Oh, please, as if you were going to worry at all.” You say. “I bet I could make you dress up as a clown and you'd still find it interesting.” “It would definitely be a unique social experience.” He smiles with his eyebrows arched upwards. “But I still have my reservations about using such clothing. Especially in public.” “After the color combination you suggested earlier? Nobody would guess.” You laugh. “Such mean words.” He says, with a feigned heartbreak expression. “And directed at the birthday boy after demonstrating such vulnerability regarding my difficulty in understanding the aesthetic sense on land. *sniff*” “Are you accusing me of using other people's vulnerabilities against them? Looks like I learned from the best, then.” “Hahaha. Indeed. And how amusing to see you believing you're the one with the upper hand.” “Believing...? Heh. And how amusing it is to see you liking it~” He smiles with his sharp teeth, slightly flushed, and with that curious and interested look. “Are you perhaps trying to insinuate something?” “To insinuate? Oh, no...” You approach him, his eyes unwavering on you for no second. “I'm simply stating a fact. Now...” You hand him the coat. “Start the clothing fitting. We have a schedule to keep, remember?” “Heh heh... Has you wish, my love~” You step away to look at more clothes, he always keeping a curious gaze on you.

You help him prepare the clothes and let him try them on in the fitting room.

“I’ve finished dressing.” Jade says, emerging from behind the fitting room curtains. He was wearing the light brown checkered coat, dark brown trousers and a dark brown turtleneck sweater. Around his neck were two pearl necklaces and two thin gold chains, on his head a dark brown beret. “Fu fu. You seem to be enjoying what you're seeing quite a lot.” He smiles. “I’m pleased to see it. Now that we're all set, let's head out. It seems like it will be a pleasant day.

“We’ve arrived.” Jade says, walking arm in arm with you through the streets of Foothill Town. “I come around this area quite often. There are several shops that carry tea leaves. Another place I visit often is... perhaps the general goods store. I usually go there to look for containers for terrariums.”

You were listening to him talking excitedly about terrariums when someone spotted you.

“Oh hey, it’s Jade-kun and (Y/N)-chan!” Cater greets you and approaches.

But Jade won't let go of your arm, not yet.

“Jade, your fit is so cute and on point~” Cater praises him. “...Wait a moment, are you two about to start that special birthday filming?”

“Good afternoon, Cater. I appreciate the compliment, but such praise should be directed at (Y/N). They were the ones who carefully selected each piece of clothing for me. A simply formidable assistant.” He says with that charming smile that every Octavinelle student has. “And yes, as you guessed, we're on our way to the location we'll be introducing.”

“You know... Not wanting to be the type to pry into people's affairs and start rumors, but...” Cater smirks. “The way you talk and the way you two are arm in arm, anyone could assume you're together.”

“Truly?” Jade feigns surprise. “Is the simple fact that I honestly compliment someone and am physically close to them on a cool day enough for people to assume a romantic relationship? Well, as you said, we don't want unwanted rumors to start.” He lets go of your arm. “I just wanted to help (Y/N) warm up a little more. It's a common practice among merfolk when the water temperature drops abruptly. But I must adapt to the land's culture so as not to create misunderstandings. Thank you for your concern, Cater.”

“O-oh, is that really a merfolk thing? C-cool, and hum, sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything, really.” Cater apologizes somewhat awkwardly.

“Don't worry, you just let us know. And I'm grateful for that.” Jade reassures him. Knowing Jade, there's a good chance that what he said was a lie.

“Hey, about the filming. Can I tag along? I’m so curious to know what you’ve chosen to show off. Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do it! I’m pretty knowledgeable about how to take great photos and videos”

“That is very reassuring.” Jade smiles. “Please do come with us, then.”

Even if you glance at Jade, he won't look back at you, but something tells you he really wanted to laugh a little at your reaction at that moment.

“Yay~ Thanks for letting me join. By the way, what sort of place are we heading to?”

“This karaoke parlor.” Jade points to a nearby establishment.

“Huuh~ I come here a bunch, too. But I can’t say I expected you to choose a karaoke joint, Jade.”

“Oh, is that so? I am rather fond of it, as it comes very well-equipped. I do hope my usual room is available... I shall go check-in inside, so please wait a moment.”

“It’s well-equipped...?” You hear Cater questioning as Jade walks away. “Mmm, isn’t this just a regular karaoke place, though?”

Luckily, according to Jade, he has been provided with the room he was hoping for. You set up the camera and start filming.

“Today, I shall be showcasing Foothill Town’s karaoke place.” Jade says to the camera naturally. “It is a very popular location amongst students, with plenty of private rooms to choose from. Amongst those rooms, my go-to choice is... The Party Room that can accommodate up to 50 people!” It was a huge room with a mirror ball on the ceiling. “This room alone contains fully-functional lighting effect capabilities that allows you to simulate being at a live performance. One can bask centerstage in the spotlight and sing as much as they want. Please enjoy to your hearts content a grand solo karaoke concert.”

You finish recording.

“That concludes the facility introduction.” Jade says. “Did the video recording go smoothly?”

You confirm, and he smiles contentedly. Like you, Cater is also surprised that Jade reserved that entire room just for himself. Jade explains that the room isn't used regularly and they’ll allow bookings without charging any extra fees.

Cater asks Jade to sing a song and Jade says he feels a little shy but shall perform one song. However, despite his beautiful voice, what he sang was... strange.

“That was refreshing.” Jade says after his performance. “This song really is wonderful.”

“Th-That was a very unique karaoke session, that’s for sure~” Cater says. “Jade, can I ask you something? What was that whole spoken intro...?”

“Of course. You see, I love tea, but the proper brewing techniques were quite difficult to get a handle on.” Jade explains. “Around the time I came to land, I thought I would attempt to memorize the steps by reciting them while listening to my favorite songs. Thus, I became accustomed to providing that narration each time. I merely hoped to be able to show you how I would normally sing it. However, it seems I may have gotten a little too carried away as I went on... The chorus came out quite bombastically. How embarrassing.”

“Aah, so that was because you just got too into it, huh... Right, okay... Hey, (Y/N)-chan, you were pretty surprised too, right?”

You confirm.

“My heightened emotions may have also been because of the lightning effects present.” Jade says with a smile. “Whenever I sing here, I get carried away. Oh, yes. We still have some time, so why not the two of you try as well?”

“Ooh, sounds great! Yeah, the three of us should sing together! I can teach you two a song that’s real fire right now!” Cater agrees.

If you also agree like Cater:

“It truly makes me happy that you're as enthusiastic as I am about this.” Jade then addresses you directly, but subtly, with his gaze. “I'm quite eager to hear your singing voice.”

If you are shy and hesitate at first:

“Aw, there's no need to be shy.” Jade tells you with that smile that's hard to decipher. “It's just the three of us here. I'm sure you'll do great. And even if singing isn't your strong suit...” His smile becomes sharper and slightly mocking. “It'll certainly be fun anyway, which is the most important thing, right?”

After you had fun at the karaoke, you went to Bonbon Recette, the pâtisserie where Jade's special birthday cake was waiting for him. 

“Heh, what a delicious looking chestnut cake.” Jade says. “The small mountain-like shape is quite charming.”

Cater suggests taking a picture of the birthday boy while he's tasting the cake, and you do so. After tasting it, Jade says that the flavorful chestnuts and mellow sweetness are absolutely superb. While you all enjoyed the cake and some other sweets, Cater showed you some ways that you and Jade could edit the video.

“You are truly very knowledgeable about editing techniques, Cater.” Jade says. “I am very grateful for you sharing your tips with us. Your help was invaluable today. Thank you.”

“Well thank you~” Cater says, flattered. “It's also always good to have an attentive and interested student.”

“But, if I may bring up the subject, I noticed you ate almost nothing. Are the pastries not to your liking?”

“Oh. N-no, the pastries are amazing and so beautiful. I'm just... hum... full, that's all.”

“Already? You must have eaten recently then. That's a shame.” His smile becomes slightly more wicked. “I heard that videos of people eating large amounts of food are trending. And since the sweets here are so beautiful, I thought I'd help you record a video eating as much of them as possible for your social media. As a thank you for your help today.”

“Oh, t-that's very k-kind of you, b-but don't worry about that.” Cater tries to dismiss it, worried. “You don't need to do that for me, really. I only helped because I wanted to. I don't need anything in return.”

“I understand... However, I am aware that you know...” His smile grows sharper. “We in Octavinelle don't like to receive something without being able to reciprocate as a thank you. I would owe you one, which is not something I like to leave unpaid.”

“Oh... t-that... well... I'd have to think about it, you know... I don't know what I could ask for in-”

“Mostro Lounge has a new special dish that started being served yesterday.” Jade quickly suggests. “A spicy dish. I heard they're your favorites. But you haven't had the chance to try it yet, have you? I don't recall seeing you there these days. Perhaps I could offer you a first course free of charge?”

“F-for real?!”

“But of course. After all, I'm one of the cooks. Here. Take this.” Jade pulls out his magic pen and takes a napkin, where he writes something and signs it, then hands it to Cater. “This should serve as proof of my offer. But I fear that this type of napkin is made of a material that won't hold this ink for very long. You should go to Mostro Lounge and speak with Azul, to see if he can offer you the plate or replace it with a more formal and lasting note.”

“And with this... we're even, right?”

“Correct.” Jade confirms with his polite smile.

“Thanks Jade. I'd better go now then. And once again, happy birthday~.”

After Cater leaves, you look at Jade suspiciously.

“What's the mater, dear? I thought you'd be happy once I chased Cater away.” He smirks. “After all, you were so disappointingly surprised when I accepted his request to join us.” He chuckles at your reaction. “Forgive me. I just wanted to take advantage of his expertise with videos and social media. He offered some very useful advice, don't you agree? Worry not. There's something I'd like to do just with you, and we're perfectly on time to do so.” He gets up. “Excuse me for a moment.”

You see Jade walk over to the counter and speak to the waiter. As Jade returns to sit down next to you again, the waiter finishes what he was doing and leaves the counter, as if to attend to another task.

“They are preparing the room for us.” Jade tells you with a smile. “We just need to wait.”

“It's not another karaoke room for 50 people, is it?” You ask.

“Hahahah. Quite the opposite, actually. This one in comparison might be a little more... claustrophobic. Fufu.”

Later, the waiter come to your table to inform you that everything is ready and ask you to follow him to a room next door. The waiter opens the door for you, and Jade gestures for you to go in first. It was small with a quite chic decor, but strangely there was only one thing in that room: a table. The only chairs were miniature ones on top of that table, as well as miniatures of a round table and a sofa. 

“Oh, were you expecting more furniture?” Jade asks with that slightly mocking smile. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this is all we're having.”

The waiter arrives with a small Mont Blanc and places it on the table. Nothing else, no cutlery, no napkins, nothing, just the dessert. Jade thanks the waiter as he leaves, closing the door and giving you privacy. Ambient jazz music also began to play from the small speakers in the corners of the room.

“A quite lovely atmosphere, indeed~” Jade gently takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Thank you for sharing your wonderful singing voice with me today.” He comes closer and holds you by the waist in a half-hug. “I actually rather enjoyed the opportunity to sing karaoke with you.” He whispers and kisses your cheek. “I had been longing for it for quite some time.” He kisses your cheek again. “I wonder what it would be like in a different musical style... Alas...”

He breaks the hug and picks up the Mont Blanc.

“This is what I wanted to try with you. It's a recipe with a touch of magic. From what I've heard, it's part of a couple's experience.” He runs his index finger through the cream and brings it close to your lips. “Would you like to have the honors?”

You look at the cream, and then at him, with a clearly suspicious expression.

“Oh? Don't you trust me?” He says with feigned sadness. “Such a devastating predicament. My own partner finds me suspicious.” His mischievous grin returns. “Which not only proves how intelligent you are, but also reminds me why I fell in love with you.”

He is charmed by the smile you give him.

“I promise you it's not some trick that will ruin the experience. As I said, it's part of the process. But I would really like you to try it first. Wouldn't you humor me? Not even on my birthday?... Sweetheart~”

He was using powerful words to soften you up. But also, it was indeed his birthday. So you sigh and give in. You lick his finger, which surprises him and makes his cheeks blush slightly.

“Well... Thank you~” Jade smiles.

You feel a tingling sensation all over your body and, suddenly, you shrink! Jade grabs you while you shrink, until you're the size of a doll. Slightly bigger than the joint of his hands.

“Fufufufu... Hahahaha” His laughter sounded malevolent, and his eyes stared down at you in a dark, shadowy way. “You poor soul. You really are a sucker for words of afection.” He lifts you by the back of your clothes, above his head, and tilts it upwards. “You know, those little nibbles around your neck never satisfied me. I want to know how all of you taste~”

He opens his sharp mouth like a giant shark and you start to struggle. It's when you're about to kick him in the nose that he stops and starts laughing heartily.

“There, there~” He slowly and carefully sets you down on the table. “My apologies, but I really enjoy giving you... an adrenaline rush.” He smiles innocently.

“You're apologizing to me a lot today.” You say. “Now try the cake and join me. Face me on equal size.”

“You know that even so, I'll still be taller than you, right?” He laughs smugly. “This magic works in respect to proportions.”

If you show that you're annoyed, he'll laugh even more. He runs his finger through the Mont Blanc cream, sits at the table, and licks his finger. In an instant, he's the same size as you.

“Well, I assume you already know why the only chairs available are miniature-sized.” He says, as he walks towards you. “It's just a shame that part of the service isn't a miniature tea set as well. Although it may be an old-fashioned romantic setting, it's always a pleasure to serve you tea.”

“To see my reaction to whatever you add to the recipe?” You ask with a new, suspicious look.

“Fufufu. You know me so well, my dear.” He says with his innocent smile. “But since we don't have tea, only chairs and a big sofa, what would you suggest we do?”

“There's something else we have here.” You say.

“There is?” He gives you a curious look. “And what would that be?”

You point behind him, he turns around and sees the Mont Blanc, now about the same size as you. When he looks back at you, you slightly shake the camera in your hands.

“Oh, you want to take a picture of the Mont Blanc?” His tone sounds a little disappointed, despite his smile.

“I want to take a picture of it with you.”

“With me? At this size? Heheh, with no doubt, a photo I didn't expect to have taken of me today. But before I pose for that picture, tell me...” He leans in, bringing his face close to yours, your noses almost touching as he whispers. “Would you like me to provide a photo from today... for your eyes only~?”

He is pleased with your reaction. He smirks, and straightens up.

“In that case, would you like to make a deal?” The words flow from his mouth with that wicked charm that any Octavinelle student possesses when uttering the same question. “I will pose for you however you wish. And in return...” His smile becomes more desirous. “You will let me do whatever I please with you in this room.”

“This doesn't seem like a balanced agreement.”

“I never said there would be a limit to the number of photos.” He adds. “Any photo you want, at any time you want, anywhere in this room. All just for you. That would be perfect material for blackmail.” His smile is mischievous when he says this, but it quickly becomes sweeter when he says what follows. “But of course, I trust you not to use any of that against me. Similarly, you should only accept the conditions knowing that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you.”

You remain silent for a few seconds.

“Perhaps it's too early to talk about that kind of trust in someone who made your tongue numb with the tea they brewed for you once. But I drank a cup of it right after as well. I still remember how you laughed at my awkward diction. I can always add a clause stating that you can terminate the agreement at any time, but you will have to delete all photos in return. If that would make you more at ease...”

“Deal.” You end up agreeing. “With that clause.”

Jade smiles with pleasure.

“I'm glad you feel confident enough to accept my proposal. Now...” He places his index finger and thumb to hold your chin and tilt your head. “How would you like me to model for you~?”

You instruct him to sit on the plate with the Mont Blanc and try posing like a real model in fashion magazines to see what he would do. He eventually lost his smile and looked at you with that impassive expression and penetrating gaze. Just as you instructed and as he understood the task.

After you take the photos, he gets up.

“Are there any other photos you'd like to take at the moment?” He asks, in that servant's tone.

You say no for now and ask what he would like to do. It would be his turn to enjoy the benefits of the agreement. The most seductively mischievous smile spreads across his lips, revealing his sharp teeth, while his half-closed eyes gaze at you and he draws closer.

“Me? Fufufu. What I have been hoping to do ever since I heard about this special service~”

One of his hands grabs you by the waist, while the other holds your hand. He spins you around, as if dancing, until he lays you down on the sofa. He lets his beret drop before he positions himself on top of you.

“To devour you privately~”

He attacks your neck with passionate kisses, but he does it brushing the sharp tips of his teeth against your skin, lightly enough to give you chills and get your adrenaline pumping. He moves down to your shoulder, where he finally bites you, hard enough to leave a mark, but never enough to draw blood. He moves back up your neck, leaving the occasional hickeys. He takes his time on your jaw, because he wants to further increase your desire for him to kiss your lips. And when he finally does, you feel all that passion, desire, and hunger that he hides behind his well-behaved facade.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[specsthesecond]

Did you seduce the vampire who donates to the museum you work at just so you could look at all the cool artifacts inside his manor? Yes, and you don't regret it.

Your hands curl around his arm as he walks you down the lavish carpeted hallway, it looks even bigger on the inside.

He talks and talks about the portraits you pass, family members, old friends and lovers, enemies. You listen with rapt attention, almost unable to keep your jaw off the floor.

"And the bedchambers are–"

"Oh, wow! When is that one from?"

He lets you pull him down another hall, abandoning the plan he'd been making ever since you walked up to him in that low cut dress.

Nevertheless, he explains the origins and backstory behind another painting, letting you guide him farther down the hall, the awe on your face never fading.

"It's just beautiful."

You marvel at the sculpture in front of you, the vampires hands rest easily on your hips, his chin on your shoulder.

"I watched the artist sculpt it with his own hands."

He places light kisses up your neck, fingers lightly digging into your dress.

"Molding the clay to do his bidding; it was quite erotic as I recall."

As your lips meet, he barely keeps his hunger in check, pulling your bodies together while pushing his tongue past your teeth.

You enjoy his hungry kiss, loving the way he shivers as you scratch the nape of his neck just right. Then, your eyes catch something in your peripheral and you gasp, pulling away to get closer.

"Is that real?"

The vampire sighs woefully, but you're far too busy admiring the luxurious day bed you'd spotted in the next room over.

"It must be from the 17th century."

He's behind you in a second, twirling you around in his arms, lips on your neck again.

"Yes, good eye, my love. Would you like to take a seat?"

He rasps while lowering you down onto the plush cushions.

"Wait."

You panic, of course, not wanting to damage such an old and precious piece of art but your companion simply grins, baring his fangs.

"Don't worry, darling. I tell you all about my preservation techniques after we've both had our fill."

You could only respond with a surprised moan as he dips his head under your dress.

You made quite a mess of the pretty bed, but you also got a very interesting presentation on methods for preserving 17th century furniture!

[twstyturny]

anti acceptance ft. jade leech

you confess to jade with one goal: to get rejected. things do not go according to plan.

tags/warnings: jade leech x reader (romantic), gn!reader, reader is yuu, swearing, set at the end of NRC year 1, confession crack, first date, reader is miraculously/momentarily a god at Dance Dance Revolution, not proofread cuz i’m lazy

a/n: so i DOUBLY made a liar of myself: i said i’d write a bunch a few weeks ago, didn’t; and then said i wouldn’t write for a while, then did. life’s still kicking my ass and i have midterms this week but i’m neglecting my responsibilities in favour of writing fanfic :D this one was actually meant to be the beginning of a wip request, but it was so long that i split it off and expanded it. that’s maybe half the reason it's so winding yet virtually plotless ;-; anyways so this is basically a prequel to that wip, but i’ll make it so that you can read either one as standalone :)

DO NOT FEED THIS TO AI.

word count: 3.2k

dividers by @/cafekitsune!

“I’m gonna do it,” you whisper.

“Don’t do it,” your entire first-year friend group whispers back, ears picking up on your stupidity even beneath the drone of Crowley’s long and winding year-end speech. They plead with you now more out of resignation than hope of persuasion. That ship has already sailed, and everyone knows it.

You eye the figure three rows ahead, clad in ceremonial uniform yet identifiable thanks to their towering height.

“I have to…” you sigh dramatically.

The ‘it’ in question that you shouldn’t do: confessing to Jade Leech, a sharp-toothed and sharper-witted eel with sketchy intentions and tendencies. It's a terrible decision that you’re unfortunately already firm on, but to be fair, this decision has been thoroughly deliberated. Your main reasons are as follows:

#1: You have a stupid crush on Jade Leech, arguably one of the worst people to have feelings for. Jade Leech is the type of person to leverage any crush for his benefit, let alone a crush on him. And confessing is the quickest way to get rid of your pesky feelings, something you’re very eager to do.

#2: After this, summer break will begin and school will be out of session. ‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder’, as they say, and your feelings will absolutely compound if you don’t confess now. The break works in your favour though, as you won’t have to deal with repercussions until September comes back around. Best case scenario, everyone will forget by the time you return to school. Worst case scenario, you’ll at least get two months free of awkwardness and teasing. Which leads to:

#3: Jade will 100%, absolutely, undoubtedly reject you. He’s the type of person who only makes choices that benefit him, and you have nothing to offer. And though humiliation sucks, a one-and-done micro-moment of mortifying rejection is a small price to pay for emotional freedom.

It’s not that you want to confess to Jade Leech. It’s that you have to.

So with that airtight reasoning in mind as the ceremony finally comes to a close, you rush through the sea of eager students, your destination not a where but a whom.

The moment he’s within reach, you grab his sleeve. “Jade.”

He freezes; the crowd doesn’t. Even Floyd and Azul vanish in the flow of people. Still, though students shove past you ceaselessly, you stand strong.

“Prefect?”

You realize you’re cooked when Jade turns to face you. His eyes are wide in shock—adorably so—and surprise is a rare expression to see on Jade. It’s affecting you more than you’d like to admit.

“Um, could I talk with you?” you ask sheepishly, just as someone shoves you from behind. Luckily, you manage to right yourself before crashing straight into Jade, sparing yourself the extra embarrassment. “Preferably somewhere less busy?”

His expression morphs back into his usual: a coy, composed smile with eyes too scrutinizing for anyone’s comfort.

“Of course.” You repress a smitten grin at the sound of his voice. Soon, you won’t have to do that consciously anymore, and that thought is exhilarating. “Let’s be on our way, then. Stay close to me, Prefect.”

And you obey, never once dropping your grasp of his sleeve so as to not lose him.

It’s in the courtyard, beneath the apple tree, that Jade finally stops and you release his sleeve. With most students staying in the hallways and subjecting themselves to traffic jams by foot, only a sprinkling of smarter students pass through.

“What is it you’d like to tell me?” Jade asks, heterochromic eyes glimmering in the dappled sunlight. For a second, you almost forget that you’re here to be rejected.

Besides him, the scene isn’t picture-perfect: trampled apple blossoms decay beneath your feet, a brawl has broken out in the hall nearby, and you’re coated in sweat from being smushed in the crowd earlier. It’s pathetic and imperfect, which makes it perfect for your purpose.

You take a deep breath and brace for impact.

“Um…” you start, looking anywhere but his perfect face. “Well, y’know…”

Jade doesn’t rush you, doesn’t even raise an eyebrow. He’s perfectly patient.

“You probably know this already, but—oh Sevens, I’m regretting this even now—so I… ah, fuck it.

“I have a crush on you,” you blurt.

…

Silence.

…

“Do it quickly, please,” you add once the silence stretches five seconds too long for your liking.

“...Do what quickly?”

Jade’s seeming ignorance simultaneously baffles and infuriates you enough to make you look back up at him. The cunning smirk that you expect is nowhere to be found. In its place: pure, genuine confusion. Which confuses you.

“Uh… reject me?”

“Did you not just confess that you liked me?” he questions slowly. “Why do you want me to reject you?”

“Why wouldn’t you reject me?” you counter. “Just get it over with.”

And with that, the confusion washes from his face, and the composed smile you’d been expecting in the first place reappears.

“And if I were to decline? What would you do then?”

“Then I’d be fucked!” you think aloud accidentally.

The cutest chuckle leaks from his lips and rattles your heart in your chest. You slap your hand over Jade’s mouth before he can inflict more emotional damage on you.

“Oya oya?” you hear muffled against your palm, Jade’s eyes crinkling with mirth. “Quite forward of you~”

With your other hand, you hold an authoritative finger in his face. “Stop it. Quit being charming and cute. Just turn me down, please.”

As you feel his lips pull into a sharp grin, your hand flinches away on the off chance that he bites you à la Floyd. But Jade is quicker, catching your retracting hand in his own.

“No.” He says it firmly, a stark contrast with how gently he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I’ll see you soon, Prefect.”

Jade leaves you with a pat on the head, a rejected rejection, and a mess of thoughts and feelings. Somehow, in all your overoptimistic deliberation, you’d neglected to take into account your crush’s stubbornness and affinity for playing the long game.

Kicking at the wilted apple blooms under your soles reveals the small mushrooms sprouting underneath.

Fuck.

Deuce is the first of your friends to find out how unsuccessful you were in your mission, him and his mom having very generously offered you and Grim a place to stay for the summer.

“You’re cooked,” Deuce helpfully comments while you’re settling into the spare room. Grim, on the other hand, has already crashed on the floor. “Jade’s totally stringing you along!”

You groan your entire soul out your throat. “I know.”

“Just DM him and reject him yourself!”

“mMMmmmm…” you whine. “Fiiiine…” You unlock your phone for the first time since passing through the mirror at NRC and open the Magicam app. For all the mental and emotional turmoil that Jade put you through today, you don’t expect him to spare you the satisfaction of replying to your DMs right away.

Well, it's not the first time you've been wrong about him.

Jade messaged you first. 42 minutes ago, to be exact.

Good evening, dear Prefect :) Where would you like to go for our first date?

You place your phone face-down on the dresser and place yourself face-down on the floor.

You lie there for a good minute before Deuce’s concern catches up to him. “Uh, Prefect…? You good?”

You flop about like a fish. “uUurGghhhHhh.”

“Wait, is he blackmailing you? If he is, I’ll teach him a lesson.” Bless Deuce’s sweet delinquent soul. “Just tell me. It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not that,” you groan into the hardwood before lifting your head. “It’s worse. He’s asking me on a date.”

“WHAT?!” Deuce practically screams. “He’s totally playing you! Or else he’s gonna bring you up a mountain and we’ll never find your body! Tell him no!”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “Okay.”

Jade, I'm gonna have to reject your rejection of my rejection. Sorry for bothering you. Have a good summer break 👍

“Done,” you update. “I think he’s literally in the ocean so he’s probably gonna leave me on sent—oh Sevens he read it!”

Deuce leaps across the room to see your screen.

“Oh fuck, he’s typing!” you shriek, causing your friend to glance around warily and Grim to flip over in his sleep. “Oh shit, oh fuck.”

You shove your phone into Deuce’s hands. “W-What? What do you want me to do?” he sputters.

“Just—! If he sends something bad,” you instruct, “don't tell me what it is, just block him.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

You wait in charged silence for what feels like an eternity. Then:

“Prefect?” Deuce treads carefully.

“…what.”

“What counts as ‘bad’?” And slowly, he turns the screen toward you.

It’s a single sentence.

Even if I want to date you as well?

Yeah, that's bad.

Really bad.

Your first date is at a summer fair in a coastal town of the Kingdom of Roses.

You try to bail on Jade, really, you do! Or well, you try to convince yourself to bail on him.

He’s taking advantage of your naïveté for his amusement, whispers your brain as you agree on a time and place.

Tell him you don’t like sleazy schemers like him, it advises while you thoughtfully pick out your cutest outfit.

Say you got food poisoning and can’t meet him; the thought rattles through your mind on the 1-hour bus ride to the date spot.

Even as you arrive at your destination, your self-preservation endures. Even at the sight of Jade in a casual t-shirt and jeans, checking his phone for messages from you, It’s not too late to turn around!

Unfortunately though, your heart has been a whole lot louder than your mind lately. That fact becomes especially clear when Jade spots you: his eyes gain a twinkle to them as they meet yours, effectively shutting down every blaring alarm in your head.

“Hello, Prefect. You look lovely.”

“Um, thanks,” you respond choppily. “So do you.”

And because you’re in the palm of his hand and he knows it, Jade holds out said palm for you to take. “Shall we?”

It’s your Cinderella moment; of course you take it. If you’re this deep into a bad decision, you might as well go all in and enjoy yourself before the clock strikes twelve.

The date is… really nice.

You make pleasant conversation. About your hobbies, about your summer plans, about the shenanigans of the past school year. You tell him about the summer job you got to earn your keep at Deuce’s, and Jade tells you about the mesocosm he’d made with flora from Sage’s Island. He’s voluble when it comes to his interests, and you’re equally receptive when your guard is down. Together, you’re peak yappers.

“Are you hungry?” Jade asks when you (try to) subtly eye the food stalls.

You chuckle bashfully. “Just a little. It smells really good.”

“Good. I’m quite hungry myself,” he replies. “If you don’t mind finding us a seat, I’ll be back in a moment.”

And so you plop yourself down at a clean table for two, and wait for your date to return. With little else to do, you pull out your phone for the first time since meeting up. The notifications you’re met with—both the nature and the quantity—give you whiplash.

96 missed calls, 114 texts from Deuce, 201 from Ace, 1049 from your first-year group chat and counting. All spread across the past two hours, all with the gist of: ‘ARE YOU STILL ALIVE???’

You simply open your camera app, stick out your tongue and shut your eyes in a play-dead face, and snap a selfie. Into the group chat it goes!

baymax!: Prefect! Hi! ass: oh tahnk sevens he hasnt killed them yet doos: Are you in danger????? Do you need help???????? 🍎: damn i lowk thought deuce was lying about you going out with jade lmao You: no deuce i’m chilling dw he’s actually super sweet got that DAWG in him: You don’t know what he’s thinking. Call us if you feel something’s off “WAKASAMAAA”: DO NOT let him take you to a secondary location. You: guys i’m fine lol [ass started a video call] You: bruh what do you want ass: just pick up dude ass: gotta make sure

When you do pick up, everyone’s already there. “Hiii~” you greet.

Your friends collectively sigh in relief. And then they start drilling you with questions.

“WHY???”

“Did he make you sign an NDA? Or some other life-binding contract?”

“He hasn’t poisoned you or anything, right? Don’t eat anything he gives you!”

“Guys, it’s fine,” you laugh. “He’s getting us food now.”

“Don’t let your guard down! That’s how he’ll get you.”

“Oh Sevens, they’re cooked. He’s stringing them along.”

“You sure have a lot of faith in me, huh?” you sigh. “It’s just one date, guys. We’re not dating.”

“Is that so?” Jade’s voice croons from behind you. You scream. Your friends scream. Jade chuckles, laying out a feast-worthy spread of street food onto the table.

Your stomach drops at the sheer amount of stuff he bought. “Jade—this is so much. How much did this cost?”

“It’s my treat,” he assures you quietly, while your friends yell at you through the screen not to fall into his loan shark trap. “Don’t worry about it.”

“PASS US TO THE EEL,” Ace articulates loudly, but Jade gently takes the phone from your hand himself. “Listen here, Leech,” the redhead threatens. “If you do anything to the Prefect—”

“You’ll be sleeping with the fishes,” Deuce finishes, “and not literally.”

“Of course,” Jade smiles politely, and you groan in pure mortification. “Rest assured that I have no ill intentions with the Prefect. I’ll do nothing against their will.”

“That means nothing! It’s you, so they’re gonna be willing either way!”

“ACE!” you scold, snatching your phone back from Jade. “Appreciate the concern guys, but I’m fine. BYE.” You hang up and bury your face in your hands, quietly screaming. Jade laughs, whether at your friends’ passion or your mortification or both, you’re not 100% sure.

“Your friends care very deeply about you,” he giggles, finally taking the seat across from you.

“Yeah. Um, just ignore everything they said. They’re really spirited,” you plead. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

“No need to apologize,” Jade reassures you. “I find it very endearing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

A particularly loud growl cuts you off before you can refute him again. From a stomach. Your stomach.

“Please, dig in,” Jade invites, unfazed. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Despite everything, your embarrassment quickly dissipates as you two work through the buffet, exchanging reviews for each dish as you go. Even when you’ve eaten your fill, Jade is still ravenous. It’s impressive how a cute boy like him can have such a boundless appetite and daintily pat his mouth with a napkin like he didn’t just effortlessly Kirby-inhale three times as much as you did.

It’s annoyingly charming.

Bellies full, you slip back into easy conversation, and before you know it, the sun has nearly fully set. Lingering copper sunlight skips across the rippling surface of the sea, tinting the town with warmth (as if your rose-tinted glasses weren’t enough).

“The last bus back to Clock Town leaves in 40 minutes,” Jade alerts you. “Would you like to check out the rest of the stalls before we part ways?”

“Sure, let’s do that!” You slip your hand into the crook of Jade’s elbow as he offers it, the gentleman. “We still haven’t seen the vendors or the game stalls.”

You browse the pop-up vendors selling magical trinkets, handmade charms, jewellery, all sorts of wares, but nothing catches your eye nor Jade’s. And as you walk through the area of game stalls, you begin to think that you might have the same luck here, too.

Except a gasp from Jade stops you in your tracks. Like you, he’s equally frozen to the spot, but his gaze is trained on one particular game stall: what looks to be… Dance Dance Revolution? Well, to be more specific, it’s not the game that entrances him, but the prize.

It’s a jumbo mushroom plush. Like, you-sized-level jumbo.

“Wanna try?” you ask him.

It takes a moment for Jade to come back to his senses. “Ah, no, no need.” But the stiffness in his posture betrays his reluctance.

“C’mon,” you coax, tapping your fingers on his elbow. “Let’s do it.”

Unfortunately for Jade, his two years of experience with legs never prepared him for the impossible gauntlet that is Dance Dance Revolution. Five seconds into the game, it becomes clear to everyone that Jade’s dream of winning the mushroom is nothing more than that: a mere fantasy.

Well, not if you can help it. The second he steps off the platform, you’re up. Failure is not a possibility, let alone an option.

Your legs move unlike ever before. Even as you’d run for your life from overblot monsters, your legs never had this speed. Even as you were training for your VDC audition, your legs never had this level of coordination and precision. The omnipotent Spirit of Dance Dance Revolution has possessed your body.

And so, naturally, you win the game. The stall owner’s jaw is dropped, the passersby are applauding, and your date stares at you with so much wonder that you chuckle a little.

Jade is so adorably awestruck when you pass the mushroom to him, you almost forget how bad of an idea he is. Well, either way, at the moment, he’s perfectly harmless with both his arms wrapped around the giant stuffed stalk.

“Thank you,” he whispers, more tenderly than you’d ever thought possible for him.

“It’s my pleasure. You’re the one who bought me an all-you-can-eat buffet earlier, anyways.”

“Fufufu, I’d told you it was my treat,” he hums. “There was no need to repay me.”

“It’s alright, I’d rather not leave with debt anyways.” You do, after all, know that being indebted to the trio from Octavinelle is bad news, regardless of how sweet Jade seems. “Speaking of, my bus leaves in 10 minutes, so I should probably get going.”

“I’ll walk you to the bus stop, then.”

And so, as your bus approaches in the distance, your Cinderella moment comes to a close. Both of you got this date out of your systems, so now Jade’ll find you boring and leave you alone, and now you can die knowing what it’s like to go on a date with Jade Leech. All’s well that ends well, right?

Except, you find yourself thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad to miss your bus if it meant spending a little more time with Jade. The next bus comes at 6 in the morning; you know that would be a seriously bad idea. But you also think that if Jade asked you to, you’d still do it.

So in a last-ditch attempt to save your soul, you ask again, “Can you reject me now?”

He laughs. “No.”

“Hm. Worth a shot.”

“Instead, actually…” Jade starts, his hold tightening around the mushroom, “would you be interested in doing this again sometime?”

You waste no time in your reply.

“Yes. I’d love to.”

[by-the-skin-of-your-teeth]

EEL!FLOYD & JADE X HANDLER!READER

Summary : You try to set boundaries. The tweels don’t care at all.

Contains : reader referred to as different nicknames rather than a set placeholder , reader trying to have some control as the handler and kind of failing , fluffy sorry if the title + summary makes it seem otherwise , the tweels are little shits and reader is tired of it

A/N : this is supposed to be a hybrid au thing, but it definitely isn’t obvious since they’re already mers ;v: also it’s incredibly short because i’m trying to get used to actually writing

Word Count : 382

You grumble angrily, squeezing at the end of your shirt to get the aquarium water out.

That was the third time they’ve dragged you into their tank this week. It’s Tuesday.

“Alright, that’s it—“ At your interjection, the boys pause in their fit of cackling, looking over at you with humor still in their eyes. You stomp closer to the tank, being careful of how close you actually go.

“New rule,” You could barely even finish saying that last word before Floyd starts groaning as loudly as he could and Jade pouts at you with the most pitiful expression he could muster.

“New rule,” Spat out with a bit more force, you continue, “no dragging me into the water anymore.”

Immediate disapproval. Floyd starts flopping around on the water’s surface as if he were a dying fish (which he will be if he keeps testing you), and Jade intensifies the pout, even adding a couple tears in the mix.

“Shrimpyyyy~ Pleeeeaaase Shrimpyyyy…” Floyd whines, his voice shaking from the amount of fucking flopping he was doing.

“You don’t understand, my dear… It’s our way of expressing love,” Jade adds, propping his elbows on the edge of the tank and cradling his face, which wore a cartoonishly sad expression.

“Like hell it is,” you say, already walking away with your supplies to put back in the storage closet. It’s 5:58 p.m., almost closing time. You do not get paid overtime: you do not want to stay past your shift.

Floyd starts his attempt at crawling onto the handlers’ dock. Horrifyingly enough, he manages to get decently far. When you look back after setting down a bucket and notice this frightening occurrence, you hurriedly rush over to kick him back into the water.

Despite his complaints, you know he’s fine—his skin is extremely thick.

Probably his skull too, considering he grabs your ankle at the last second to drag you in thewaterafteryouSPECIFICALLYSAID—

Splash!

You’re soaked again. From underneath the water, you hear giggles where the twins have retreated.

It’s 6:02. You aren’t being paid overtime.

You got wet just now… for no money.

Jade pops back above the surface. Maybe an apology?

Nope. A drive-by splash. Throws water in your face and immediately dips back under, giggling even harder than before.

[kefiteria]

A Knight in Shining Socks

pairing: Sebek x Reader

🍨[masterlist]

At precisely three in the afternoon, the Diasomnia lounge was steeped in lazy refinement. Silver spoons stirred quietly, tea perfumed the air, and the soft light glowed against the green marble like honey poured over glass.

Then Sebek entered—upright, proud, and unmistakably barefoot in his socks.

Malleus blinked once, then twice, head tilting with genuine curiosity rather than judgment.

“Sebek...” he said, voice mild as the rustle of pages. “Have your shoes decided to abandon you?”

“My—my shoes, my lord?” Sebek froze mid-salute, arm locked like a statue mid-oath.

“Indeed. I was under the impression you had a particular fondness for them.” Malleus looked curious as his gaze dipped to the socks—neat, tragic, heroic in their effort to maintain dignity. “But it appears they’ve gone missing.”

Sebek’s throat bobbed. His mind—usually regimented like a parade ground—collapsed into chaos. A drop of sweat formed at his temple, trailed slowly down the side of his jaw.

“… It is… a long story, my lord.”

[Flashback]

“Human! Those contraptions—those instruments of torment—!”

You turned, startled, as Sebek pointed accusingly at your feet.

“They’re just heels, Sebek.”

“Heels!” He said it as if the word itself were poisonous. “Unstable. Impractical. A betrayal of all that is right in foot support!”

“But they’re perfectly fine to walk in.”

“Fine?” He barked out a laugh devoid of humour. “Fine until your ankle turns, and the ground claims you in disgrace! Comfort is honor! Stability is pride! You cannot face Lord Malleus while your ankles teeter on the brink of collapse!”

Before you could respond, he crouched—military precision in every motion—and began untying his boots. They gleamed, freshly polished, immaculate. When he lifted them, light caught the shine and flared across his face like divine revelation. “No one shall suffer arch pain in my presence.”

His shoes landed with a soft thud on the ground, polished to an almost divine sheen. “Wear mine!” he ordered, holding them out with reverence. “They are freshly cleaned, strong, sensible, tested in both training and tea service.”

“Sebek, they’re at least three sizes too big.”

“They are generous!” he corrected firmly.

So you slipped your feet in. They swallowed you whole, but he looked so proud, you didn’t have the heart to object. Inside, they were absurdly warm, soft with overzealous care. The leather gleamed like it had been kissed by discipline itself.

He straightened, chest swelling with proudness. “Lord Malleus shall never suffer the indignity of witnessing a twisted ankle in his presence!”

“Sebek, I really—”

But he was already marching away, barefoot and heroic, your heels dangling from his hand like proof of a vanquished evil—justice had been served, and it wore two-inch stilettos.

[Back to Present]

The lounge was still. Even the teapot seemed to hold its breath, steam curling upward like gossip that dared not speak.

Malleus, chin propped upon his elegant hand, regarded Sebek as one might a curious species of bird discovered in the garden—fascinating, loud, and inexplicably proud of its feathers.

“So,” he murmured, voice velvet over steel, “you surrendered your footwear in the name of comfort.”

“Yes, my lord!” Sebek declared, every syllable vibrating with the devotion of a soldier reporting victory at great personal cost.

Malleus’s smile curved, soft and deliberate. “A noble cause,” he said, eyes gleaming with quiet mischief. “Though I do wonder if your socks share such valour. They seem… battle-worn.”

Sebek stiffened instinctively, as though his very socks had been called to inspection.

Then—soft footsteps, a yawn, the faint ruffle of hair. Silver drifted in, eyes heavy with sleep, moving like a man underwater. He blinked once, twice, and stared.

“Morning, Sebek.”

A pause.

“… Why are you holding women’s shoes?”

The silence cracked like glass. Sebek’s mouth opened soundlessly; his hand twitched; somewhere, very faintly, a piece of his soul detached and fled screaming into the ether.

If one listened closely, one might have heard the faint thud of dignity hitting the floor beside him.

[kefiteria]

MY GOAT IS OPEN! we all cheer

may i request sebek's reaction (I hope you're not bored of him yet) to his g!n lover accepting his confession while they act all shy, calm, & graceful, but the millisecond they leave the reader starts absolutely SCREAMING & jumping like they won the world cup? celebrating like there's no tomorrow forgetting sebek can def hear their cheering a foot from the door

Loudest Heart

pairing: Sebek x GN! reader

a/n🍨: I WILL NEVER GET BORED OF SEBEK🗣️☝🏻☝🏻LOVE LIVE LAUGH SEBEK ZIGVOLT! THIS IS A GOOD REQUEST AND REASON FOR ME TO FANGIRL ABOUT HIM THANK YOU SO MUCH 🗣️🗣️🗣️🩷💛🩵🩷💛🩵

🪄[twst masterlist]

“I shall… escort you to dinner,” Sebek declared, though the usual thunder of his voice had softened into something almost reverent. A strange warmth betrayed him, rising unbidden to the tips of his ears like the first blush of dawn upon marble.

You inclined your head with delicate restraint, every motion composed, as though sculpted by a careful hand.

“Yes… I would like that.”

A fragile stillness passed between you, thin as glass and just as perilous.

Sebek, stricken by the enormity of what had been spoken into existence, turned with soldierly abruptness—yet fled with unmistakable haste, feeling pursued by the very confession he had unleashed.

You remained composed—an exquisite illusion of restraint, as though carved from Botticelli’s lost marble, a figure of divine stillness and impossible grace— until the door closed—or rather, it failed to. It lingered, traitorous and ajar by the universe itself demanded witness.

The dam broke.

“HE SAID HE LOVES ME?!” you shrieked, voice ascending into the heavens with all the subtlety of a catapulted cannonball. “LOVE. L-O-V-E. NOT ‘APPRECIATES.’ NOT ‘TOLERATES.’ LOVE AS IN ROMANTIC, AS IN POETRY, AS IN I WOULD PERISH FOR YOU AND ALSO HOLD YOUR HAND—”

You clutched your head, pacing in tight, frantic circles like a scholar who had uncovered forbidden knowledge and immediately lost all sanity.

“OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. I NEED TO SIT DOWN—NO I CAN’T SIT DOWN THIS IS NOT A SITTING SITUATION—”

You didn’t sit. Instead, you launched yourself onto the bed, bounced once, rolled off, hit the floor, sprang back up like gravity had personally offended you.

“THIS IS BIGGER THAN THE POSSIBILITY OF NRC WINNING SPELL DRIVE. THIS IS BIGGER THAN RSA PRESTIGE. THIS IS BIGGER THAN—THAN—ASHENGROTTO'S EGO—”

You pointed at absolutely nothing but the wall.

“ERIC VENUE. WHERE IS ERIC VENUE. HE NEEDS TO DOCUMENT THIS. NO—HE NEEDS TO ACT THIS. A MOVIE. A DOCUMENTARY. A TEN-SEASON ADAPTATION WITH MERCH—”

You grabbed a pillow, hugged it, then immediately shook it. “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED—NO WAIT TOO FAST—OR IS IT? NO IT’S NOT. IT MIGHT BE. I NEED OUTFITS. I NEED A SPEECH. I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO COOK SOMETHING HEALTHY BESIDES INSTANT NOODLES—”

“…DOES HE EVEN LIKE NOODLES? I SHOULD GOOGLE THAT—NO I CAN’T GOOGLE A MAN—HE IS RIGHT THERE—HE SAID HE LOVES ME—”

“… He said he loves me,” you whispered, awe-struck, as though the words themselves were spun from starlight.

A fragile stillness lingered—then detonated once again.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

[Outside the door]

Sebek had not moved. Not a single inch. He stood as if some invisible bolt of lightning had struck him, his body rigid, taut with the tension of a man suddenly made painfully aware of all the consequences of love and confession.

His ears burned, his spine held firm, yet his mind quaked beneath the relentless, echoing force of your voice, a voice that shattered the very stillness around him.

“… What,” he whispered, each syllable trembling, stripped of grandeur yet heavy with disbelief, “is… happening.”

[From within]

“HE LOVES ME! ME! OUT OF ALL PEOPLE! STATISTICALLY IMPROBABLE! COSMICALLY UNFAIR!—”

“… They are in danger?” he murmured as he continues listening.

“WE’RE GETTING MARRIED—NO NEGOTIATION—IT IS DECIDED—”

His eyes widened imperceptibly, betraying the faintest hint of horror. “… HUH— No. That is not danger,” he admitted, after a measured, trembling beat.

Your voice rose again, unrestrained, leaping across the corridors like firelight dancing in a storm “I NEED A WEDDING VENUE—NO, A CASTLE—NO, AN ENTIRE CONTINENT—MALLEUS WILL BE THE FLOWERBOY! I DON’T CARE IF HE’S THE PRINCE HE'S INVITED—HE WILL WORK ON MY WEDDING WHETHER HE DESIRES IT OR NOT!”

Sebek inhaled slowly, like a man preparing for battle against forces incomprehensible. “… That is joy,” he said, a whisper, as though speaking it aloud might shatter him entirely.

“… Excessive. Unchecked. Catastrophic joy.”

Within, your voice grew ever more chaotic, ricocheting from one thought to the next with feral delight “DOES HE LIKE CHOCOLATE CAKE? WHAT IF HE HATES CAKE? WHAT IF THIS IS THE FIRST TRIAL OF OUR LOVE? WE NEED A TEN-TIER CAKE! NO, TWENTY! PEOPLE MUST WITNESS THIS! THE NEIGHBORHOOD MUST SING BALLADS—”

Sebek’s face, already aflame, burned hotter still, as though the sun itself had descended to scorch him for daring to be near such unfettered jubilation.

“… They are planning,” he said, “our future… at alarming speed.”

He turned slightly, as though pondering flight, exile, even the dissolution of self, yet his feet refused to obey. For beneath the crushing weight of mortification, beneath the collapse of dignity, there lingered warmth. Something gentle and almost unbearable in its sincerity.

“… then I must prepare myself.” he admitted, quieter now, almost to himself, almost to the world.

He straightened his posture, utterly doomed by your jubilant and unrestrained joy pursued him has spilled into the corridor. A legend that refused to be hushed:

For you had been loved.

And you would not be silent.

[kefiteria]

Where is My (potential) Husband!

sebek x gn! reader || [twst masterlist]

a/n🍨: inspired by my favorite song, gosh the discography and composition of each tracks in this songs isso gooddd ughhhh✨✨✨✨✨✨im planning to make other boys version too

The Great Sevens must be laughing somewhere. Because truly, how long can one person wait?

You’ve (presumably in your thoughts) petitioned the heavens, the stars, the entire Briar Valley HR department for romance, and all they’ve sent you is Sebek Zigvolt—six feet of blinding loyalty, shrill volume, and jawline sharper than divine justice itself.

Every day, he storms through the halls like the embodiment of a thunderclap—loud, luminous, and completely unaware that his mere existence is emotional taxation.

You swear you can feel God testing your patience every time he yells “WAKA-SAMA!” with that voice that could raise the dead and all your unresolved feelings.

and so you have waited. Not only that, but you have watched. You have reviewed every possible candidate in this cursed world—merchants, poets, even one man who claimed to make good soup— yet none could match the fury and devotion packed into that green-haired hurricane.

So today, beneath the indifferent sky, you decide divine bureaucracy has delayed long enough. You square your shoulders, your soul half-possessed by caffeine and divine intervention, and declare:

“I would like to make you as my potential husband, Sebek!”

It’s a line that rings like prophecy—or blasphemy—or a declaration of war on Sebek’s blood pressure. He freezes, sword midair, looking like a man who just saw the apocalypse in 4K.

Down the hall, NRC students collectively whip their heads around like a parliament of startled owls. Someone drops a potion. Someone else starts reciting spell thinking they're hallucinating.

“Y–YOUR WHAT?!” he bellows, eyes wide, face doing the colour gradient of a sunset having a panic attack.

“Potential husband.” you repeat, ever patient, like a saint explaining theology to a stubborn choir boy. “Because clearly the Lord has been keeping you from me as some kind of heavenly joke, and I, being the faithful servant I am, have decided to speed up divine scheduling.”

“You—how dare you make such insolent declarations toward a knight of—!” His words collapse under the sheer weight of embarrassment. His soul visibly ejects itself, ascending through pure mortification, while his body remains—tragic, noble, and freshly traumatized.

“Yes, yes, sworn to Malleus, guardian of propriety, eternal defender of dragons and decency—I’ve memorized the pamphlet.” You sigh dramatically. “But what of me, Sebek? The one enduring your existence like a devotional suffering? Do you not see the anguish?”

His jaw works soundlessly, opening and closing like a fish contemplating the meaning of life. His blush could power an entire dormitory and the streetlights of Briar Valley.

You take a step closer, voice dropping to mock solemnity. “Do you hear it, Sebek? The angels playing your dramatic theme every time you lecture a freshman? How am I to resist such holy nuisance?”

Sebek makes a sound halfway between a gasp and a system error. “Y-YOU—!” His voice cracks so hard it echoes. The students loitering nearby whip their heads around again, pretending not to watch while very obviously watching.

“I—THIS—YOU—IN PUBLIC?!” he sputters, hands flailing as if trying to physically swat away the situation. “HAVE YOU NO DECORUM?!”

“Oh, I do~” you say sweetly. “But it seems you’ve misplaced yours somewhere between your honour and your volume control.”

For a moment, you swear you see steam rise from his ears. Sebek visibly wrestles his composure back into its armour, straightening his spine as if posture alone can fix emotional chaos.

“Y-your words are… are unbecoming!” he blurts, every syllable trembling. “S-such insolent affection in broad daylight—before witnesses—!”

And you watch him go, radiant in your chaos, whispering to the sky above proudly, “See, Lord? I found him myself.”

[kefiteria]

Where is My (potential) Husband!

Idia / Jade / Jamil / Leona x fem! reader

[sebek ver.]

[masterlist]

Idia Shroud

It all started when Ace (blessed with the mouth of a thousand mistakes) decided to read your “Husband Potential Ranking” out loud in the cafeteria. You didn’t even get to snatch your notebook away before the words escaped into the air like a curse you couldn’t recall:

“Yo, you actually said Housewarden Shroud got husband potential?” and that one line — that cursed combination of syllables — spread faster than a data breach.

By the time it reached Ignihyde, Idia was in his room, mid-raid, when Ortho floated in with the look of someone about to destroy a man’s will to live.

“Brother!!!” he said cheerfully, “Congratulations! You’ve been declared potential husband material.”

The silence that followed could’ve powered a small apocalypse. Idia’s flame flickered pink; his avatar stood motionless on-screen; and somewhere in the depths of his mind, a tiny version of himself screamed into a pillow made of anxiety.

“HUH?? Husband potential?? WHO PATCHED THAT INTO THE TIMELINE?? Roll it back, rollback the server!!”

Attempts to unplug his entire dorm room like it’s infected with romance malware.

“No way. Nope. She’s trolling. It’s social commentary. Experimental satire. She doesn’t actually mean it.”

Ortho: “She sounded genuine, brother.”

“GENUINE?? AS IN—emotional intimacy genuine??”

Runs mental diagnostics: high heart rate, low composure, 404 chill not found.

Paces so much, the auto-doors open repeatedly like applause.

“This is illegal character development. I’m supposed to be the background NPC, not the husband route!!”

Later that night, at 3 a.m. : he whispers to his reflection: “…Husband potential, huh…? Like, theoretically, if she—NOPE. Abort mission. Shutting down.”

Ortho: “Brother, your flame turned pink again.”

“That’s the GPU overheating from emotional latency!!”

Jade Leech

The universe could’ve let you rest. It could’ve buried your words in the deep sea, where all embarrassing things go. But no — fate decided that Azul Ashengrotto would be the first to know.

He was sipping his espresso when someone (definitely Floyd) slid over your little note, dramatic as a soap opera reveal. “If I ever had to pick a husband, Jade’s got potential. He looks as if he’d remember anniversaries and feed you poisoned tea with love.”

Azul choked so hard the Lounge staff thought he’d seen their profit reports. When Jade walked in, Azul was halfway through planning a marketing campaign titled “Engagement Packages: Romantic Dinners by the Coral Sea.”

“My, my. That’s quite the compliment. I didn’t realize my domestic appeal was… under such scrutiny.”

Azul: “Scrutiny? Jade, she called you husband potential! That’s a lifelong investment! Hmm. A profitable one, I’d say.”

Smiles, calmly setting down his tray. “Should I… thank her personally? Or would that be too forward?”

Floyd: “JADEEEEE, YOU SHOULD PROPOSE AT THE LOUNGE!! I’LL RECORD IT!!”

Azul: “NO PUBLICITY STUNTS IN MY ESTABLISHMENT!!”

“I see, so this flusters you too, Azul?”

Azul: “I’m not flustered! I’m entrepreneurially concerned!”

Later that night, he's journaling: “Subject: Human. Name: (y/n). Potentially will appear flustered when confronted about ‘husband potential.’ Must observe further. Possibly reciprocates.”

“How delightful.”

Jamil Viper

It all began in the worst way possible: Kalim’s voice echoing through the entire dormitory like a divine announcement from the heavens you did not ask for.

“JAMILL!! GUESS WHAT! YOU ARE SOMEONE'S POTENTIAL HUSBAND!!”

Somewhere in the kitchen, a ladle dropped with silence. The kind of silence that makes you reconsider your place in the universe.

Jamil turned slowly, like a man facing his executioner, and uttered the most dangerous words: “…Who said that.”

“I have YOU, Kalim to take care of, three meals a day, twelve spontaneous parties a week, and fifty near-death experiences annually — I don’t have time to be anyone’s husband.”

Kalim: “But you’d be so good at it!”

“That’s exactly the problem!”

mutters to himself while picking up the ladle: “Who even said that? Who decided I have—”

Kalim: “Oh! It was [y/n]!”

Fight or Flight? NO! The world stops spinning. Eye twitch. Flame of repressed emotion ignites.

“…Her?” pause “No. Nope. I don’t— No. I have things to do. Important things. Like… rice.”

Kalim: “You’re blushing!”

“I’M BOILING WATER, KALIM.”

proceeds to over-season the soup out of sheer emotional confusion.

“No, thanks, I’m busy. I have work, responsibilities, a dorm to manage— who said it again? Her? Yeah, her? …She’s out of her mind.”

five minutes later, chopping vegetables like his life depends on it.

“Husband potential… tch. Ridiculous.” “…Still. She’s got good taste.”

immediately looks horrified he said that out loud.

“I need a holiday. Away from you all and feelings.”

Leona Kingscholar

Between Ruggie’s laughter and the rustle of dry grass, your words escaped into the wild: “Leona’s got husband potential. He respects women!”

A harmless statement.

Until Ruggie, the menace of the century, decided to inform the lion himself — while he was mid-nap, tail lazily swishing, the picture of divine annoyance wrapped in sunlight.

one eye opens slowly, sleepy and unimpressed. “…Husband potential, huh? You people really running out of options.”

Ruggie: “She said it’s because you respect women!”

“That’s the reason? That’s the whole thing? Has the bar fallen through the floor? Tartarus even?”

You, possibly defensive but flustered: “You do respect women! That’s attractive!”

“Attractive? Herbivore, I’m just not rude. That’s called basic manners.”

He sighs, but there’s that tiny twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “You lot act like I handed you the moon just ‘cause I didn’t talk over you.”

smirks “Though… can’t say I hate the compliment.”

Ruggie: “So you admit that you're a husband material!”

“Tch. Don’t push it. I’m not gonna start cooking or doing couple selfies.”

leans back again, eyes half-lidded, smirk sharpening. “Still, you’ve got taste. I’ll give you that.”

You: “So you agree?”

“I agree you’re delusional, but I’ll allow it.”

aaannd with that, he goes right back to sleep. Tail flicks once — traitorously — like a punctuation mark of smug acceptance.

[solxamber]

Name Drop || Kalim Al-Asim

Except he can’t, because he didnt ask you.

or: Kalim forgets to ask your name during a party and it winds up causing a campus-wide search for the mystery person with the bright laugh.

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐃𝐚𝐲: 12

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: Kalim doesn't get your name after a party and goes on a manhunt to find you again.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,890

Scarabia was glowing. Every window flickered with bright lights, every hallway buzzed with the rhythm of drums and laughter, and the air itself tasted faintly of cardamom and honey.

Someone had definitely spiked the lemonade table because it was the only explanation for how half the campus seemed to be here, dancing barefoot and hollering the lyrics to a festival song none of them actually knew the words to.

And in the middle of all that chaos, Kalim was in his natural habitat.

He moved through the crowd like a warm current, laughing and clapping, twirling people into dance circles, throwing confetti over anyone too shy to join in.

Every few seconds, someone shouted his name, and he shouted back, beaming like this was the best day of his life. Which it might’ve been. The floor of the lounge had been covered in bright rugs, the walls were fully decked out, and the entire place smelled of sweet pastries and warm spices.

Then there was you.

He didn’t even see where you’d come from, only that one moment he turned around and there you were—hair a little out of place from the heat, a tiny smear of glitter on your cheek from someone else’s dress, looking around like you’d accidentally walked into a tornado made of joy.

You looked surprised when he called out to you, even more surprised when he took your hand and said, “Come on! You have to dance!”

And because it was Kalim, and his smile could melt hesitation faster than the sun, you said yes.

That was the start of it.

You’d thought you’d dance for one song, maybe two. Then he made you laugh, and you made him laugh harder, and the rhythm kept going, spilling into the next song and the next until the line between music and time blurred completely.

You tried to keep up with the steps, but Kalim was terrible at consistency—he danced with too much enthusiasm and constantly switched paces, spinning too fast, laughing while bumping shoulders and nearly tripping over his own feet, but every mistake became part of the fun.

At one point, he accidentally flung a handful of flower petals directly into his own face and stood blinking through them while you nearly fell over laughing.

He was delighted that you laughed. Delighted that you didn’t care about the rhythm, or the crowd, or anything except how much fun it was.

The room pulsed with color. Warm gold from the lights, deep red from the silks strung across the room, flashes of blue from glass charms spinning in the air.

Somewhere nearby, Jamil was muttering “I told him to keep it small this time” as he tried to stop a tray of desserts from catching fire.

“Jamil looks busy!” Kalim said cheerfully. “We should help him later!”

You grinned. “Later. Like, after we’ve finished all the food?”

“Exactly!”

And somehow that was the most natural plan in the world.

You didn’t realize how much time passed after that. The night dissolved into laughter, colors, half-shouted jokes that got lost in the music. He dragged you into a food tasting competition he made up on the spot, where neither of you could actually decide a winner because you both kept stealing bites off each other’s plates.

You ended up trying to guess what kind of dessert he’d invented, and he refused to tell you, declaring it “a secret family recipe that even I forgot!”

Every few minutes, someone called Kalim away— to greet guests, to check the fireworks setup—but he always came back, always found you again through the crowd, like a magnet drawn to the same spot over and over.

The funniest part was that he didn’t even know why.

He just kept thinking it was the most natural thing in the world to find you. Every time he turned his head and saw your grin across the dance floor, something in his chest stuttered and caught light.

It was like the lights flickered brighter when you laughed. He didn’t know your name, didn’t even realize he hadn’t asked, but he knew the sound of your voice over the drums, the way your shoulders shook when you tried not to laugh too hard, the way your eyes crinkled every time you made fun of him tripping when he got dizzy from spinning.

When the music slowed near midnight, and the crowd thinned into lazy clusters around the lounge, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the fountain. Someone had dumped rose petals into the water, and it shimmered under the lights.

Kalim dipped his hand in and flicked water at you. You retaliated, obviously, and within seconds there was an all-out splash war.

He lost. Obviously.

“Unfair!” he said between bursts of laughter. “You fight dirty!”

“You started it!” you shot back. “You threw water first!”

“Only because you looked tired!”

“So your solution was to soak me?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You threw one last splash at him just to make a point. It hit his neck instead of his face, but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned back on his hands, catching his breath, grinning like someone who didn’t know how to be anything but happy.

The music was softer now, more of a hum than a rhythm. Around you, the party had melted into pockets of laughter and conversation. Kalim’s hair had become much messier. You were half-tempted to fix it, half-tempted to make it worse.

He caught you staring. “What?”

“Your hair’s a mess.”

“Oh no!” He immediately tried to smooth it down with wet fingers, making it worse. “Better?”

“Much worse.”

“Perfect!”

That made you laugh again, and his chest ached a little, though he didn’t know why.

Somewhere across the room, Jamil was calling for him again, something about the lights outside needing to be taken down. Kalim waved in his direction, pretending he didn’t hear.

The last of the confetti drifted down between you, glinting faintly under the lights, and he thought, without realizing how completely it would hit him later, that this might be one of his favorite nights ever.

He didn’t even know your name. Didn’t notice he’d never asked.

He just knew the way the air buzzed when you were near, and how every moment felt like a little celebration on its own. And when the fireworks finally went off above Scarabia—bright red bursts blooming against the night sky—you both turned your heads up at the same time.

The reflection caught in the fountain water. The colors shimmered across your face, the gold and red and faint violet of the night, and Kalim looked at you like someone realizing the party had been worth it for this one heartbeat alone.

You smiled at him, eyes reflecting the fireworks, and said, “You throw a good party, Kalim.”

He couldn’t think of anything clever to say. Just smiled back, warm and dazed, the kind of look that could light a thousand lanterns.

The drums picked up again. Someone called your name from the edge of the crowd, but he didn’t catch it. Didn’t even realize he should.

The night moved on. The lights burned low. And when you slipped away sometime before dawn, he was still smiling, still hearing your laughter echoing in his head, too full of warmth to notice the small, important thing he’d forgotten to ask.

Kalim woke up smiling.

That was not too unusual, but today it was more than usual. His cheeks actually hurt. His first thought was that was the best party ever, and his second was I wonder if they’re awake yet.

And then came the third thought. The one that froze him mid-stretch, hand still tangled in his blanket, grin slowly fading into confusion.

Wait… what was their name again?

He blinked. Sat up. The sunlight filtering through his curtains painted the room in stripes of gold, warm and blinding, but it did absolutely nothing to jog his memory.

He could remember everything else—the way you’d laughed when he dropped his phone into the fountain, the way you’d danced, the way your voice had sounded above the drums—but your name? Nothing. Total blank.

He groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Jamil’s going to scold me for this, isn’t he?”

From the outside room, there was a muffled, “Scold you for what?”

“For forgetting something very important!” Kalim shouted back.

A pause. Then, in that tired voice that always meant Jamil was already regretting waking up: “What did you forget this time? Your shoes? The lantern count?”

“My friend!”

That actually brought Jamil to the doorway, hair still messy, expression flat. “You forgot your friend?”

Kalim nodded, very seriously. “Their name! I met someone at the party and they were amazing—thwy danced so well, and they were funny, and they threw water at me, and—”

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me you spent the entire night with someone and didn’t get their name.”

Kalim gasped. “Oh no, that sounds bad when you say it like that!”

“It is bad.”

“But Jamil, they were so nice! And I think they might like pistachio pastries because they took two and I was going to ask them about it but then someone spilled the juice and—”

Jamil was already walking away. “I’m making coffee. You’re hopeless.”

Kalim leapt to his feet, all energy again. “Wait, I can fix this!”

Which, in Kalim’s world, meant one thing: immediate, excessive action.

Within an hour, the dorm was in chaos again. Scarabia’s lounge had become the headquarters of what Kalim dubbed The Great Mystery Guest Search. Half the dorm was involved—not willingly, but Kalim was very persuasive when excited.

He was running from group to group, clapping people on the back, holding up his hands like an enthusiastic ringmaster. “Okay! So they were about this tall— no, maybe a little shorter? Or taller! It depends on the shoes, actually. And they had a great smile. You’d remember it!”

One of the third-years squinted at him. “Kalim, that’s, like, half the people at the party.”

“But not this smile!” Kalim insisted. “It was special!”

“What about eye color?” another asked.

Kalim paused. “Um… normal?”

Jamil, from where he was leaning against a pillar, muttered, “Brilliant. We’ll find them in no time.”

“They also danced really well!” Kalim added brightly. “And their voice sounded kind!”

The entire room stared at him.

Jamil sighed. “That narrows it down to roughly two thousand possible students.”

Kalim’s expression didn’t falter. “That’s not so bad! We can start interviewing!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.”

By mid-afternoon, Kalim had somehow roped in members of three other dorms. Heartslabyul students were wandering around Scarabia with sketchpads and wildly inaccurate portraits, Octavinelle students were running a betting pool on how long it would take for him to give up, and somewhere in the courtyard, two Pomefiore students were trying to reconstruct the party through social media photos.

Kalim, meanwhile, was darting around with a notebook full of helpful details. It read:

> laughed a lot

> liked the food

> threw water (playfully!!)

> looked really happy under the fireworks

> voice: warm? maybe? like cinnamon?

> might have shiny shoes???

He held it up proudly to Jamil, who stared at it for a long moment before saying, “This is useless.”

“It’s heartfelt!” Kalim corrected.

“It’s useless and heartfelt.”

But Kalim didn’t give up. He wandered through campus, stopping random students with that same bright smile, asking, “Hey! Did you come to the Scarabia party last night? Do you know someone who danced near the fountain? They might’ve splashed me a little?”

Responses varied from polite confusion to “Kalim, everyone splashed you last night.”

Even Professor Trein got stopped in the hallway at one point, to which he blinked and said, “Young man, I haven’t danced in thirty years,” and shuffled away before Kalim could ask follow-up questions.

By sunset, even Kalim was starting to deflate a little. He sat on the same fountain from the night before, chin in his hands, notebook on his knee. The petals were gone now, just clear water reflecting the soft orange of the evening sky.

Jamil approached quietly, two glasses of juice in hand. “You’ve been at this all day,” he said, sitting beside him. “No luck?”

Kalim shook his head, expression thoughtful. “I guess not. But I’ll find them. I know I will. It’s just… weird, Jamil. I keep remembering little moments. Like how they said I was terrible at waltz, but their eyes looked happy when they said it.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow. “You’re smitten.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Drink your juice.”

Kalim smiled anyway, softly. “They’ll come back. I’m sure they will. The party was fun—maybe they’ll want to dance again.”

Jamil rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Kalim hadn’t meant to be wandering the courtyard that late in the afternoon. He was supposed to be heading back to the dorm to help Jamil take down the leftover festival decorations, but his mind kept drifting.

Every flash of movement, every laugh that sounded a little familiar made his heart skip just enough for him to check, only to realize it wasn’t you.

He’d told himself he’d stop searching after dinner. He’d told himself Jamil was right, that NRC was huge and maybe this was just one of those things you didn’t chase. But as he stood by the fountain again, sunlight sliding warm across the stone, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d smiled under the fireworks.

Then came the shouting.

“GRIM! STOP RUNNING OFF WITH THAT!”

Kalim’s head snapped up. Across the courtyard, a small grey blur was sprinting full-speed, cackling something about “mine now!” while clutching a half-eaten pastry. Behind him, you were chasing after him, waving your arms and yelling, “Give it back before you choke on it, you walking hairball!”

And just like that, the world shrank to that one patxh of sunlight where you stood.

Kalim froze for half a second—long enough for Jamil, walking a few paces behind, to follow his line of sight, sigh, and mutter, “Oh no.”

Then Kalim took off running.

“Kalim, don’t—” Jamil’s voice vanished behind him as he bolted forward.

The grass crunched under his sandals, the breeze pulled at his scarf, and he was laughing before he even reached you. He had no plan, no clever line, just the dizzy rush of there you are, there you are, there you are.

You looked up mid-chase, eyes going wide in recognition.

“Oh! Kalim!” you said, slowing down just enough for Grim to slip away cackling triumphantly into the distance. “You’re— you’re here!”

“I found you!” he said at the same time, breathless, grinning so hard it made your chest feel strange.

You blinked at him, confused but smiling anyway. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes!” His answer came out immediate, unfiltered, too loud, but completely sincere. “I mean— well, yes! I forgot to ask you your name, and I realized that’s a terrible thing to forget, and then Jamil said I’d never find you again, but I said I would, and I did!”

He was talking fast enough to trip over his own words, hands moving as if he needed to physically catch the air to explain himself. Jamil arrived just in time to hear that last sentence, groaning softly into his hand.

You laughed, and Kalim’s brain short-circuited a little. He’d forgotten how good that sounded.

“You’ve been looking for me just to ask my name?” you teased, half incredulous, half touched.

“Well, yes!” he said again, as if that were the most obvious reason in the world. “You never told me, and I kept thinking about it, and I thought maybe you’d come back to Scarabia, but you didn’t, so—”

“Kalim,” Jamil interrupted, already resigned, “breathe.”

Kalim stopped, blinked, and laughed sheepishly. “Right. Breathing.” He looked back at you, eyes bright as ever. “So… can I finally ask? What’s your name?”

You smiled at him, sunlight catching in your hair, voice soft when you said it—your name, simple and clear, the sound he’d been missing without realizing how badly.

Kalim repeated it immediately, like he needed to hear it twice just to make sure it was real. Then he said it again, quieter this time, and smiled as if the entire courtyard had just lit up for him alone.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, absolutely earnest. “It suits you perfectly.”

You tilted your head, curious. “You really went through all that trouble just to find me?”

Kalim nodded so fast it made his earrings jingle. “Of course! I couldn’t forget you after the party! You were—well, it was fun, wasn’t it? I wanted to see you again.”

Your smile softened. “It was fun.”

“Then,” Kalim said, almost shy but still bubbling with excitement, “maybe… we could dance again sometime? No party this time. Just us?”

You laughed, and Kalim swore the sound felt like fireworks again.

“Sure,” you said. “But only if you promise not to throw water this time.”

He beamed, heart racing, already thinking of excuses to ignore that rule.

And somewhere between the laughter and the fading echo of Grim’s complaints, Kalim realized the search had been worth every bit of chaos, because now he had your name—and a reason to keep finding you again.

Fall Event ; Masterlist

@tinseltina hope you like what i wrote for your prompt! made a little change to make it a little unique, hope that's fine!

[solxamber]

Name Drop || Kalim Al-Asim

Except he can’t, because he didnt ask you.

or: Kalim forgets to ask your name during a party and it winds up causing a campus-wide search for the mystery person with the bright laugh.

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐃𝐚𝐲: 12

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: Kalim doesn't get your name after a party and goes on a manhunt to find you again.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,890

Scarabia was glowing. Every window flickered with bright lights, every hallway buzzed with the rhythm of drums and laughter, and the air itself tasted faintly of cardamom and honey.

Someone had definitely spiked the lemonade table because it was the only explanation for how half the campus seemed to be here, dancing barefoot and hollering the lyrics to a festival song none of them actually knew the words to.

And in the middle of all that chaos, Kalim was in his natural habitat.

He moved through the crowd like a warm current, laughing and clapping, twirling people into dance circles, throwing confetti over anyone too shy to join in.

Every few seconds, someone shouted his name, and he shouted back, beaming like this was the best day of his life. Which it might’ve been. The floor of the lounge had been covered in bright rugs, the walls were fully decked out, and the entire place smelled of sweet pastries and warm spices.

Then there was you.

He didn’t even see where you’d come from, only that one moment he turned around and there you were—hair a little out of place from the heat, a tiny smear of glitter on your cheek from someone else’s dress, looking around like you’d accidentally walked into a tornado made of joy.

You looked surprised when he called out to you, even more surprised when he took your hand and said, “Come on! You have to dance!”

And because it was Kalim, and his smile could melt hesitation faster than the sun, you said yes.

That was the start of it.

You’d thought you’d dance for one song, maybe two. Then he made you laugh, and you made him laugh harder, and the rhythm kept going, spilling into the next song and the next until the line between music and time blurred completely.

You tried to keep up with the steps, but Kalim was terrible at consistency—he danced with too much enthusiasm and constantly switched paces, spinning too fast, laughing while bumping shoulders and nearly tripping over his own feet, but every mistake became part of the fun.

At one point, he accidentally flung a handful of flower petals directly into his own face and stood blinking through them while you nearly fell over laughing.

He was delighted that you laughed. Delighted that you didn’t care about the rhythm, or the crowd, or anything except how much fun it was.

The room pulsed with color. Warm gold from the lights, deep red from the silks strung across the room, flashes of blue from glass charms spinning in the air.

Somewhere nearby, Jamil was muttering “I told him to keep it small this time” as he tried to stop a tray of desserts from catching fire.

“Jamil looks busy!” Kalim said cheerfully. “We should help him later!”

You grinned. “Later. Like, after we’ve finished all the food?”

“Exactly!”

And somehow that was the most natural plan in the world.

You didn’t realize how much time passed after that. The night dissolved into laughter, colors, half-shouted jokes that got lost in the music. He dragged you into a food tasting competition he made up on the spot, where neither of you could actually decide a winner because you both kept stealing bites off each other’s plates.

You ended up trying to guess what kind of dessert he’d invented, and he refused to tell you, declaring it “a secret family recipe that even I forgot!”

Every few minutes, someone called Kalim away— to greet guests, to check the fireworks setup—but he always came back, always found you again through the crowd, like a magnet drawn to the same spot over and over.

The funniest part was that he didn’t even know why.

He just kept thinking it was the most natural thing in the world to find you. Every time he turned his head and saw your grin across the dance floor, something in his chest stuttered and caught light.

It was like the lights flickered brighter when you laughed. He didn’t know your name, didn’t even realize he hadn’t asked, but he knew the sound of your voice over the drums, the way your shoulders shook when you tried not to laugh too hard, the way your eyes crinkled every time you made fun of him tripping when he got dizzy from spinning.

When the music slowed near midnight, and the crowd thinned into lazy clusters around the lounge, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the fountain. Someone had dumped rose petals into the water, and it shimmered under the lights.

Kalim dipped his hand in and flicked water at you. You retaliated, obviously, and within seconds there was an all-out splash war.

He lost. Obviously.

“Unfair!” he said between bursts of laughter. “You fight dirty!”

“You started it!” you shot back. “You threw water first!”

“Only because you looked tired!”

“So your solution was to soak me?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You threw one last splash at him just to make a point. It hit his neck instead of his face, but he didn’t seem to mind. He leaned back on his hands, catching his breath, grinning like someone who didn’t know how to be anything but happy.

The music was softer now, more of a hum than a rhythm. Around you, the party had melted into pockets of laughter and conversation. Kalim’s hair had become much messier. You were half-tempted to fix it, half-tempted to make it worse.

He caught you staring. “What?”

“Your hair’s a mess.”

“Oh no!” He immediately tried to smooth it down with wet fingers, making it worse. “Better?”

“Much worse.”

“Perfect!”

That made you laugh again, and his chest ached a little, though he didn’t know why.

Somewhere across the room, Jamil was calling for him again, something about the lights outside needing to be taken down. Kalim waved in his direction, pretending he didn’t hear.

The last of the confetti drifted down between you, glinting faintly under the lights, and he thought, without realizing how completely it would hit him later, that this might be one of his favorite nights ever.

He didn’t even know your name. Didn’t notice he’d never asked.

He just knew the way the air buzzed when you were near, and how every moment felt like a little celebration on its own. And when the fireworks finally went off above Scarabia—bright red bursts blooming against the night sky—you both turned your heads up at the same time.

The reflection caught in the fountain water. The colors shimmered across your face, the gold and red and faint violet of the night, and Kalim looked at you like someone realizing the party had been worth it for this one heartbeat alone.

You smiled at him, eyes reflecting the fireworks, and said, “You throw a good party, Kalim.”

He couldn’t think of anything clever to say. Just smiled back, warm and dazed, the kind of look that could light a thousand lanterns.

The drums picked up again. Someone called your name from the edge of the crowd, but he didn’t catch it. Didn’t even realize he should.

The night moved on. The lights burned low. And when you slipped away sometime before dawn, he was still smiling, still hearing your laughter echoing in his head, too full of warmth to notice the small, important thing he’d forgotten to ask.

Kalim woke up smiling.

That was not too unusual, but today it was more than usual. His cheeks actually hurt. His first thought was that was the best party ever, and his second was I wonder if they’re awake yet.

And then came the third thought. The one that froze him mid-stretch, hand still tangled in his blanket, grin slowly fading into confusion.

Wait… what was their name again?

He blinked. Sat up. The sunlight filtering through his curtains painted the room in stripes of gold, warm and blinding, but it did absolutely nothing to jog his memory.

He could remember everything else—the way you’d laughed when he dropped his phone into the fountain, the way you’d danced, the way your voice had sounded above the drums—but your name? Nothing. Total blank.

He groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Jamil’s going to scold me for this, isn’t he?”

From the outside room, there was a muffled, “Scold you for what?”

“For forgetting something very important!” Kalim shouted back.

A pause. Then, in that tired voice that always meant Jamil was already regretting waking up: “What did you forget this time? Your shoes? The lantern count?”

“My friend!”

That actually brought Jamil to the doorway, hair still messy, expression flat. “You forgot your friend?”

Kalim nodded, very seriously. “Their name! I met someone at the party and they were amazing—thwy danced so well, and they were funny, and they threw water at me, and—”

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me you spent the entire night with someone and didn’t get their name.”

Kalim gasped. “Oh no, that sounds bad when you say it like that!”

“It is bad.”

“But Jamil, they were so nice! And I think they might like pistachio pastries because they took two and I was going to ask them about it but then someone spilled the juice and—”

Jamil was already walking away. “I’m making coffee. You’re hopeless.”

Kalim leapt to his feet, all energy again. “Wait, I can fix this!”

Which, in Kalim’s world, meant one thing: immediate, excessive action.

Within an hour, the dorm was in chaos again. Scarabia’s lounge had become the headquarters of what Kalim dubbed The Great Mystery Guest Search. Half the dorm was involved—not willingly, but Kalim was very persuasive when excited.

He was running from group to group, clapping people on the back, holding up his hands like an enthusiastic ringmaster. “Okay! So they were about this tall— no, maybe a little shorter? Or taller! It depends on the shoes, actually. And they had a great smile. You’d remember it!”

One of the third-years squinted at him. “Kalim, that’s, like, half the people at the party.”

“But not this smile!” Kalim insisted. “It was special!”

“What about eye color?” another asked.

Kalim paused. “Um… normal?”

Jamil, from where he was leaning against a pillar, muttered, “Brilliant. We’ll find them in no time.”

“They also danced really well!” Kalim added brightly. “And their voice sounded kind!”

The entire room stared at him.

Jamil sighed. “That narrows it down to roughly two thousand possible students.”

Kalim’s expression didn’t falter. “That’s not so bad! We can start interviewing!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.”

By mid-afternoon, Kalim had somehow roped in members of three other dorms. Heartslabyul students were wandering around Scarabia with sketchpads and wildly inaccurate portraits, Octavinelle students were running a betting pool on how long it would take for him to give up, and somewhere in the courtyard, two Pomefiore students were trying to reconstruct the party through social media photos.

Kalim, meanwhile, was darting around with a notebook full of helpful details. It read:

> laughed a lot

> liked the food

> threw water (playfully!!)

> looked really happy under the fireworks

> voice: warm? maybe? like cinnamon?

> might have shiny shoes???

He held it up proudly to Jamil, who stared at it for a long moment before saying, “This is useless.”

“It’s heartfelt!” Kalim corrected.

“It’s useless and heartfelt.”

But Kalim didn’t give up. He wandered through campus, stopping random students with that same bright smile, asking, “Hey! Did you come to the Scarabia party last night? Do you know someone who danced near the fountain? They might’ve splashed me a little?”

Responses varied from polite confusion to “Kalim, everyone splashed you last night.”

Even Professor Trein got stopped in the hallway at one point, to which he blinked and said, “Young man, I haven’t danced in thirty years,” and shuffled away before Kalim could ask follow-up questions.

By sunset, even Kalim was starting to deflate a little. He sat on the same fountain from the night before, chin in his hands, notebook on his knee. The petals were gone now, just clear water reflecting the soft orange of the evening sky.

Jamil approached quietly, two glasses of juice in hand. “You’ve been at this all day,” he said, sitting beside him. “No luck?”

Kalim shook his head, expression thoughtful. “I guess not. But I’ll find them. I know I will. It’s just… weird, Jamil. I keep remembering little moments. Like how they said I was terrible at waltz, but their eyes looked happy when they said it.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow. “You’re smitten.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Drink your juice.”

Kalim smiled anyway, softly. “They’ll come back. I’m sure they will. The party was fun—maybe they’ll want to dance again.”

Jamil rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Kalim hadn’t meant to be wandering the courtyard that late in the afternoon. He was supposed to be heading back to the dorm to help Jamil take down the leftover festival decorations, but his mind kept drifting.

Every flash of movement, every laugh that sounded a little familiar made his heart skip just enough for him to check, only to realize it wasn’t you.

He’d told himself he’d stop searching after dinner. He’d told himself Jamil was right, that NRC was huge and maybe this was just one of those things you didn’t chase. But as he stood by the fountain again, sunlight sliding warm across the stone, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d smiled under the fireworks.

Then came the shouting.

“GRIM! STOP RUNNING OFF WITH THAT!”

Kalim’s head snapped up. Across the courtyard, a small grey blur was sprinting full-speed, cackling something about “mine now!” while clutching a half-eaten pastry. Behind him, you were chasing after him, waving your arms and yelling, “Give it back before you choke on it, you walking hairball!”

And just like that, the world shrank to that one patxh of sunlight where you stood.

Kalim froze for half a second—long enough for Jamil, walking a few paces behind, to follow his line of sight, sigh, and mutter, “Oh no.”

Then Kalim took off running.

“Kalim, don’t—” Jamil’s voice vanished behind him as he bolted forward.

The grass crunched under his sandals, the breeze pulled at his scarf, and he was laughing before he even reached you. He had no plan, no clever line, just the dizzy rush of there you are, there you are, there you are.

You looked up mid-chase, eyes going wide in recognition.

“Oh! Kalim!” you said, slowing down just enough for Grim to slip away cackling triumphantly into the distance. “You’re— you’re here!”

“I found you!” he said at the same time, breathless, grinning so hard it made your chest feel strange.

You blinked at him, confused but smiling anyway. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes!” His answer came out immediate, unfiltered, too loud, but completely sincere. “I mean— well, yes! I forgot to ask you your name, and I realized that’s a terrible thing to forget, and then Jamil said I’d never find you again, but I said I would, and I did!”

He was talking fast enough to trip over his own words, hands moving as if he needed to physically catch the air to explain himself. Jamil arrived just in time to hear that last sentence, groaning softly into his hand.

You laughed, and Kalim’s brain short-circuited a little. He’d forgotten how good that sounded.

“You’ve been looking for me just to ask my name?” you teased, half incredulous, half touched.

“Well, yes!” he said again, as if that were the most obvious reason in the world. “You never told me, and I kept thinking about it, and I thought maybe you’d come back to Scarabia, but you didn’t, so—”

“Kalim,” Jamil interrupted, already resigned, “breathe.”

Kalim stopped, blinked, and laughed sheepishly. “Right. Breathing.” He looked back at you, eyes bright as ever. “So… can I finally ask? What’s your name?”

You smiled at him, sunlight catching in your hair, voice soft when you said it—your name, simple and clear, the sound he’d been missing without realizing how badly.

Kalim repeated it immediately, like he needed to hear it twice just to make sure it was real. Then he said it again, quieter this time, and smiled as if the entire courtyard had just lit up for him alone.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, absolutely earnest. “It suits you perfectly.”

You tilted your head, curious. “You really went through all that trouble just to find me?”

Kalim nodded so fast it made his earrings jingle. “Of course! I couldn’t forget you after the party! You were—well, it was fun, wasn’t it? I wanted to see you again.”

Your smile softened. “It was fun.”

“Then,” Kalim said, almost shy but still bubbling with excitement, “maybe… we could dance again sometime? No party this time. Just us?”

You laughed, and Kalim swore the sound felt like fireworks again.

“Sure,” you said. “But only if you promise not to throw water this time.”

He beamed, heart racing, already thinking of excuses to ignore that rule.

And somewhere between the laughter and the fading echo of Grim’s complaints, Kalim realized the search had been worth every bit of chaos, because now he had your name—and a reason to keep finding you again.

Fall Event ; Masterlist

@tinseltina hope you like what i wrote for your prompt! made a little change to make it a little unique, hope that's fine!

[kefiteria]

Where is My (potential) Husband!

Idia / Jade / Jamil / Leona x fem! reader

[sebek ver.]

[masterlist]

Idia Shroud

It all started when Ace (blessed with the mouth of a thousand mistakes) decided to read your “Husband Potential Ranking” out loud in the cafeteria. You didn’t even get to snatch your notebook away before the words escaped into the air like a curse you couldn’t recall:

“Yo, you actually said Housewarden Shroud got husband potential?” and that one line — that cursed combination of syllables — spread faster than a data breach.

By the time it reached Ignihyde, Idia was in his room, mid-raid, when Ortho floated in with the look of someone about to destroy a man’s will to live.

“Brother!!!” he said cheerfully, “Congratulations! You’ve been declared potential husband material.”

The silence that followed could’ve powered a small apocalypse. Idia’s flame flickered pink; his avatar stood motionless on-screen; and somewhere in the depths of his mind, a tiny version of himself screamed into a pillow made of anxiety.

“HUH?? Husband potential?? WHO PATCHED THAT INTO THE TIMELINE?? Roll it back, rollback the server!!”

Attempts to unplug his entire dorm room like it’s infected with romance malware.

“No way. Nope. She’s trolling. It’s social commentary. Experimental satire. She doesn’t actually mean it.”

Ortho: “She sounded genuine, brother.”

“GENUINE?? AS IN—emotional intimacy genuine??”

Runs mental diagnostics: high heart rate, low composure, 404 chill not found.

Paces so much, the auto-doors open repeatedly like applause.

“This is illegal character development. I’m supposed to be the background NPC, not the husband route!!”

Later that night, at 3 a.m. : he whispers to his reflection: “…Husband potential, huh…? Like, theoretically, if she—NOPE. Abort mission. Shutting down.”

Ortho: “Brother, your flame turned pink again.”

“That’s the GPU overheating from emotional latency!!”

Jade Leech

The universe could’ve let you rest. It could’ve buried your words in the deep sea, where all embarrassing things go. But no — fate decided that Azul Ashengrotto would be the first to know.

He was sipping his espresso when someone (definitely Floyd) slid over your little note, dramatic as a soap opera reveal. “If I ever had to pick a husband, Jade’s got potential. He looks as if he’d remember anniversaries and feed you poisoned tea with love.”

Azul choked so hard the Lounge staff thought he’d seen their profit reports. When Jade walked in, Azul was halfway through planning a marketing campaign titled “Engagement Packages: Romantic Dinners by the Coral Sea.”

“My, my. That’s quite the compliment. I didn’t realize my domestic appeal was… under such scrutiny.”

Azul: “Scrutiny? Jade, she called you husband potential! That’s a lifelong investment! Hmm. A profitable one, I’d say.”

Smiles, calmly setting down his tray. “Should I… thank her personally? Or would that be too forward?”

Floyd: “JADEEEEE, YOU SHOULD PROPOSE AT THE LOUNGE!! I’LL RECORD IT!!”

Azul: “NO PUBLICITY STUNTS IN MY ESTABLISHMENT!!”

“I see, so this flusters you too, Azul?”

Azul: “I’m not flustered! I’m entrepreneurially concerned!”

Later that night, he's journaling: “Subject: Human. Name: (y/n). Potentially will appear flustered when confronted about ‘husband potential.’ Must observe further. Possibly reciprocates.”

“How delightful.”

Jamil Viper

It all began in the worst way possible: Kalim’s voice echoing through the entire dormitory like a divine announcement from the heavens you did not ask for.

“JAMILL!! GUESS WHAT! YOU ARE SOMEONE'S POTENTIAL HUSBAND!!”

Somewhere in the kitchen, a ladle dropped with silence. The kind of silence that makes you reconsider your place in the universe.

Jamil turned slowly, like a man facing his executioner, and uttered the most dangerous words: “…Who said that.”

“I have YOU, Kalim to take care of, three meals a day, twelve spontaneous parties a week, and fifty near-death experiences annually — I don’t have time to be anyone’s husband.”

Kalim: “But you’d be so good at it!”

“That’s exactly the problem!”

mutters to himself while picking up the ladle: “Who even said that? Who decided I have—”

Kalim: “Oh! It was [y/n]!”

Fight or Flight? NO! The world stops spinning. Eye twitch. Flame of repressed emotion ignites.

“…Her?” pause “No. Nope. I don’t— No. I have things to do. Important things. Like… rice.”

Kalim: “You’re blushing!”

“I’M BOILING WATER, KALIM.”

proceeds to over-season the soup out of sheer emotional confusion.

“No, thanks, I’m busy. I have work, responsibilities, a dorm to manage— who said it again? Her? Yeah, her? …She’s out of her mind.”

five minutes later, chopping vegetables like his life depends on it.

“Husband potential… tch. Ridiculous.” “…Still. She’s got good taste.”

immediately looks horrified he said that out loud.

“I need a holiday. Away from you all and feelings.”

Leona Kingscholar

Between Ruggie’s laughter and the rustle of dry grass, your words escaped into the wild: “Leona’s got husband potential. He respects women!”

A harmless statement.

Until Ruggie, the menace of the century, decided to inform the lion himself — while he was mid-nap, tail lazily swishing, the picture of divine annoyance wrapped in sunlight.

one eye opens slowly, sleepy and unimpressed. “…Husband potential, huh? You people really running out of options.”

Ruggie: “She said it’s because you respect women!”

“That’s the reason? That’s the whole thing? Has the bar fallen through the floor? Tartarus even?”

You, possibly defensive but flustered: “You do respect women! That’s attractive!”

“Attractive? Herbivore, I’m just not rude. That’s called basic manners.”

He sighs, but there’s that tiny twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “You lot act like I handed you the moon just ‘cause I didn’t talk over you.”

smirks “Though… can’t say I hate the compliment.”

Ruggie: “So you admit that you're a husband material!”

“Tch. Don’t push it. I’m not gonna start cooking or doing couple selfies.”

leans back again, eyes half-lidded, smirk sharpening. “Still, you’ve got taste. I’ll give you that.”

You: “So you agree?”

“I agree you’re delusional, but I’ll allow it.”

aaannd with that, he goes right back to sleep. Tail flicks once — traitorously — like a punctuation mark of smug acceptance.

[merakiui]

PLEASE, can we see some more of captive!Azul?

Drugging him with an aphrodisiac so that he’s painfully hard and riding him for hours on end until he’s emptied everything he can possibly give inside your needy pussy. <3 you’ve tied his hands behind his back and put a nice collar around his throat with a lead that’s attached to the wall. It’s a shame he can’t touch you. :( you want to bond more physically with your dearest darling, but he’s been so difficult and stubborn lately. This will have to suffice.

Eagerly bouncing up and down on his dick, rambling on and on about how you’ll build such a lovely family together, while he sobs from the horror and pleasure of it all. >_< no one has ever desired him to this sort of deranged level before. He’s scared—not of you, but of the fact that if this keeps up any longer and you continue smothering him in genuine, albeit obsessive, affection he might actually fall for you.

Azul begging you to stop. He can’t start a family right now. He has a business to focus on—his career! He can’t be a father. Not now! But it’s so wet and warm inside you, so snug. He throws his head back and cries out when you slam your hips down, and it’s his fourth orgasm of the day. At this point, you’re milking him dry. He can’t take it anymore. His head is so fuzzy, and the aphrodisiac keeps him so aroused even though he’s exhausted.

You kiss all over his face, licking his tears away and praising him for being such a good boy. Your pretty, perfect Azul. Oh, he’s so cute when he’s falling apart. If he’s obedient, you’ll let him touch your tits the next time you do this. :)