Hello! i really love your writing so i was wondering if you coudl write for sebek, floyd, ace, and deuce (separate or only sebek since he's my fav!) with a deaf reader? like she's been deaf since birth and communincates through sign language and pen and paper and the boys interact with her? if you could, that would be amazing! Tytytytytyty!!! >.<
[Request: At Your Fingertips]
Pairing: Ace Trappola x Reader; Deuce Spade x Reader; Sebek Zigvolt x Reader; Floyd Leech x Reader (separate)
Notes: Hello! I'm sorry for the wait! I haven't written for most of these characters, but hopefully I did them justice. I'm also not hard of hearing nor deaf, so please forgive me for any inaccuracies. I did my best to research sign language (specifically ASL in this case), but please let me know if there's any mistakes or if something is considered offensive. Still, I hope you enjoy!
When Ace first met you, he thought you were an easy target to pick on since you were a magicless janitor stuck at a magic academy with no idea who the Great Seven were. It was absolutely hilarious to him, and he couldn’t help but make fun of you for it. However, you never reacted to his teasing remarks or smarmy grin. Instead, you looked at him with a consistent frown and furrowed brows, and that made him more irritated than anything else.
It wasn’t until much later, after destroying the chandelier, it is known that you are deaf and aren’t from Twisted Wonderland. There’s a shock of realization that splashes over him and creeping guilt that leaves him feeling rather shameful, though he won't voice it (or at least not until much, much later).
After becoming your friend, he does his best to adapt in order to communicate with you. Immediately, Ace and Deuce get you a notebook so you can communicate with them. If you can read lips, he makes sure to face you clearly and is more mindful to talk slower.
Once he notices you use sign language, you can bet that he bugs you to teach him some, especially if it’s mean spirited. He tends to use them against other people—more often than not, it’s the other first years or Riddle—when they piss him off.
Ace really enjoys learning sign language from you as it feels like he has a special connection with you that not a lot of other people will get to have. He’s particularly fond of moments when he can look across the room and still be able to communicate with you, regardless of where you are.
The shrill squeaks of shoes skidding across the laminated floor and the constant thuds of the basketball echoed throughout the gym. The smell of sweat filled the air and the blaring red timer kept counting down, increasing the growing tension between the basketball players.
Despite it being an exhibition match against RSA, the grudge NRC held between the two schools left little space to leave it just a ‘friendly’ match—especially when their rival was up by several points—and it really showed in the aggravated scowls and aggressive plays the basketball club carried out. Quite a few players on their side had already been given yellow cards, but that didn’t deter the NRC students.
Truly, anything was clear to get a leg up over those stuffy, pampered RSA students.
And there was a sliver of hope that shined down as one of the third-years swiped the ball from one of the RSA forwards. The game had shifted back into their favor as the NRC team switched gears and started to run towards RSA’s basket. As a fast beastman defender crept up on the third-year, he gritted his teeth while he scanned his teammates, ultimately landing on Ace, who was wide open for a shot.
“Ace!” The first-year felt his heart skip a beat as the basketball flew his way. Catching it, Ace took in a sharp intake of breath before bouncing the ball and leaping into the air. With a flick of his wrist, the ball left his grasp. The basketball smoothly soared through the air and hit the rim, earning a staggering gasp from multiple students. Yet Ace didn’t falter. His expression stayed steady as the ball fell back into the net, allowing the NRC team to score.
His teammates let out a resounding yell that intermingled with the rest of the NRC students in the bleachers. A broad grin weaseled its way across the Heartslabyul student’s face as he watched the scoreboard go up by three points on their side.
Immediately, Ace spun to face the bleachers. His eyes darted around the gym till they landed on his group of friends, sitting a few rows from the front. He instantly honed in on you, who sat in-between Jack and Deuce, and, immediately, his hands began moving. He curled his fingers into his palms with his thumbs still sticking up and pressed them together, rocking his right hand forward and back a few times. Then his hands shifted quickly, going from one sign to another with furrowed brows and a slightly open mouth.
‘How’d I look?’ Once he ended signing by pointing at himself, Ace waited with a quickened heart as he noticed the bright gleam in your hues. Your lips began to curl upwards as you raised your own hands, pointing at him first before adjusting them into different signs.
‘You looked so cool!’ You had signed back with an earnest smile so wide it matched his. Heat instantly flared up in his cheeks, causing the red head to chuckle under his breath. Did your comment inflate his ego? Oh, absolutely, and judging by deadpanned stares from the other first-years at your side, they could feel the intensely smug aura from several feet away.
So it came to no one’s surprise when Ace’s hands formed a loosely ‘O’ shape in front of his body before springing his hands open with the palms facing outwards, all while wearing the most shit-eating grin he could muster.
When Deuce first met you, he was admittedly at a loss. First, he nearly gets bulldozed by his own classmate. Then, the direbeast on your shoulder was yelling at him to stop said classmate, but then the direbeast ended up running away so now he has to go catch him? And he does…Which ultimately ends up breaking a really valuable chandelier and leaving him with the most anxiety riddled first day of school. But somehow, throughout all of the chaos, you never once made a sound. No yelling, no questions, not a single peep. Just a frown and a lost look in your eyes.
Then it all comes out that you’re deaf and not from Twisted Wonderland. Instantly, Deuce feels protective of you. You’re a magicless student thrusted into a world without magic and cannot hear, and with how rowdy NRC can be, you might get caught in some harrowing situations.
Thus, Deuce tries to act as a buffer between you and other students that don’t understand or know your situation. Knowing how the majority of the student body act, he doesn’t want you to accidentally get sucked into a fight—Though he sometimes gets into brawls on your behalf when some students still try to mess with you.
Unlike Ace, he politely asks that you teach him sign language, but it’s very obvious that he hopes you say yes. To Deuce, it’s a way to understand you better. Sure you could always write out what you want to say, but he wants to be a good friend and communicate in a way that’s more personal to you.
He doesn’t pick up sign language that fast, and he can get rather clumsy or forget some signs entirely. However, he’s earnest and does his best to communicate with you. More often than not, he’s going to vocally voice what he signs to both help him walk through what he wants to say and to help you see what he’s trying to sign.
Deuce let out a withering sigh as he left class, Professor Crewel’s scoldings still ringing in his ears. Having to stand there for several minutes while the older man digged at him for messing up his work took a lot out of the first-year. While he knew that he wasn’t the smartest student at NRC, something inside Deuce felt like a failure. No matter how much effort he put in, the title of honor student seemed to slip further away from his grasp, and that thought stung much harsher than Deuce would like to admit.
Wanting nothing more than to collapse in his bed, Deuce made his way to the Hall of Mirrors. However, the first-year didn’t anticipate seeing you standing with a Pomefiore third-year on the way there. You appeared to be by yourself and completely empty-handed, which was unlike you. Yet the Heartslabyul student didn’t dwell on it once he noticed the utterly lost look on your face as the third-year student spoke animatedly to you, his lips moving too fast for you to pick up what he was saying. Immediately, Deuce springs into action, practically sprinting to your side.
“Excuse me!” Deuce yells out, stepping in your field of vision while startling the Pomefiore student. “They’re deaf, so they might not understand what you’re asking!”
“O-Oh! I was just wondering if they joined a club yet,” The third-year stammers out as he glanced between the two of you. The card soldier peered over his shoulder at you, who looked up at him with a more hopeful expression, and the sight caused his heart to thud against his chest.
“Um, I can translate for you,” Deuce offered to the other student, causing him to nod his head. With that, Deuce turned to face you fully, but he hesitated—Clearly trying to figure out what he was trying to sign before he went through with it. It was only when you shot him an encouraging smile did Deuce begin moving his hands.
Deuce pointed at the Pomefiore student with his index finger before hooking his finger and gesturing it towards you. With his right hand, he folded his pinky, ring, and thumb together while keeping his pointer and middle finger extended and together. His left hand curved into a ‘C’ shape, and he brought his right hand into his left hand. Then slowly, his right hand cycled through different motions, steadily signing different letters.
“He’s asking if you joined a club,” Deuce spoke both slowly and softly, watching you with bated breath. Relief washes over the freshman as he watches realization settle over you. Your gaze darted to the other student and nodded before returning to face Deuce. Your dominant hand raised and you began mimicking his previous motions by individually spelling out a word. It took a minute, but he brightened significantly once he figured out what you were spelling
“They said they’re in the gastronomy club!” Deuce exclaimed, his voice coming out a touch loud but downright excited. After many thanks and multiple apologies sent your way, the Pomefiore student quickly took his leave.
‘You okay?’ Deuce signed to you once it was just the two of you. Immediately, you nodded and raised a flat hand to your mouth. You then tilted it forward to him, mouthing the corresponding words as you did it.
‘Thank you,’ The moment your signing registered in the card soldier’s mind, Deuce’s face instantly erupted in a bright red. It didn’t help when you giggled so sweetly afterwards, most likely finding his expression amusing.
But in spite of his flustered state, Deuce found his previous worries had faded into the background now that he stood across from you. They didn’t go away completely, but his insecurities didn’t feel as heavy as they did before. Cause when you looked at him with such a sincere smile, it felt like this was the one thing he could do right.
When Floyd met you—not including the brief meeting before the Spelldrive tournament—and walked up to your little shoal in the lunchroom, he was incredibly amused. You were just so jumpy! It was like you didn’t hear his loud footsteps or noticed his presence until he was practically on top of you. It was so funny, watching your expression turn into shock as he hovered above you with a wide, toothy grin.
Then Mackerel stepped in and yelled at him for approaching you from behind, followed by Crabby elbowing him hard in the side. That really got Floyd’s attention because why can’t he? Then he learns you can’t hear, and there’s so many questions bursting from inside him. Please tell him everything.
Whether you tell him or he digs it out of Ace, Floyd finds himself incredibly intrigued by the whole situation. In the sea, you wouldn’t make it very long without hearing, so it’s interesting to see how you go about your day to day life without one of your five senses.
After Azul’s overblot and you two are on much better terms, Floyd “asks” (though it’s more like a demand) you to teach him sign language once he catches you signing with your friends. He catches on rather quickly, and you find that Floyd signs perfectly despite learning it in such a short amount of time.
From then on, the way Floyd interacts with you depends on his mood. On occasion, he still enjoys scaring you, but he is more mindful about approaching you from behind if you put your foot down on setting that boundary. Floyd also tends to switch how he communicates with you; one day, it’s sign language and the next day, he might just speak to you verbally. The only thing consistent is that your friends will often find his drawings scattered across your pages.
It was one of those rare days where Floyd didn’t have a shift at the Mostro Lounge nor did he have a club meeting, but, instead of enjoying his time off, the eel-mer was forced to do schoolwork—All because Professor Red Squid has been hounding him for the past week or so about an overdue project. While Floyd would’ve brushed it off, there was the looming threat of being held back a grade and a call from his mama that had him begrudgingly heading to the library.
Instead of the absolute despair that should’ve washed over him once he stepped foot into the library, Floyd found himself perking up upon seeing you sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t necessarily quiet when he bee-lined towards you, if the looks he got said anything about it, but you continued to hunch over your textbook with an adorably focused stare.
“Shrimpy!” Floyd sang, draping himself over your shoulder. He could feel you jolt in your seat, but you quickly relaxed upon realizing it was him. There was a small but fond grin as you peered up at him with a signed ‘Hello’ to him.
And just like that, the second-year plopped down in the seat beside you. While at first, Floyd was more than happy to procrastinate his schoolwork in favor of talking with you, a text from Jade asking how his task was going was enough to dampen his mood once again. When you noted his deep frown, the mer had groaned about the overdue project. As he finished complaining, the eel watched you pull your notebook out and hastily scribbled on it before sliding it his way.
‘Why don’t we work together? You can start your project while I do my own homework. That way you don't have to do it alone!’
Floyd blinked at the words on the page. Any other person would’ve gotten a nasty sneer sent their way at the sheer audacity, but since it was you—with your bright eyes and saccharine smile—Floyd was mighty unwilling to say no.
Thus, the mer started on his history project while you continued with your astrology homework. While it wasn’t the most thrilling thing, the second-year found the task more bearable with you at his side. Even when his patience waned at times, you didn’t hesitate to reign him back in. You started to write little encouraging words in your notebook that would cheer him up, and it somehow made the once boring task doable.
So when the eel noticed your growing frustration directed at your worksheet, Floyd felt the need to return the favor. Wordlessly, he grabbed your notebook and began doodling. It took a few minutes, but once he was finished, Floyd tapped on your shoulder.
Floyd eagerly watched you lean close to peer down at your notebook. Across the white page was a crude drawing of what looked like Riddle yelling at Ace, Deuce, and Grim. The four of them were rather childlike, and you liked the comically terrified expression on your friends’ face as they ran from the housewarden, whose two strands of hair stood straight up in anger.
The discouraged frown on your face quickly faded away, and a little giggle escaped from your lips. It was soft and barely audible, but Floyd honed in on the tiny sound. It wasn’t often the taller twin heard you laugh, but it never failed to cause a pleasant warmth to spread throughout his body.
With a sharp grin, Floyd leaned into your field of vision. As he caught your attention, the second-year raised his left hand to his chin. His thumb is sticking out as his index and middle finger brush against his chin before flicking them down into his palm.
Upon registering what the mer signed, your eyes grew wide and you immediately smothered your face into your hands in a flustered attempt to hide your expression. Floyd lets out a raspy giggle at the sight and he reaches over to pry your arms away from your face. It was easy to tug your arms into his hands, and the eel-mer would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing the rosy tint to your cheeks.
If he knew you’d react this way, Floyd should call you cute more often.
When Sebek first met you, he was more than ready to force you to apologize to Malleus. How dare you refer to the revered heir of Briar Valley as ‘Hornton’!? Just seeing that name scrawled across your notebook has a vein throbbing in his forehead and a righteous fury brewing within him. A part of him is abundantly pleased at the wide-eyed, fearful expression as he really digs into you for calling his liege as such.
…What do you mean you’re allowed to call Malleus that? What do you mean that you can’t hear any of his words? He’s frightening you? Why is he getting pulled away by Silver while Malleus is apologizing on his behalf? This is all terribly wrong.
It’s not until Lilia scolds him later on does he understand your situation. He doesn’t necessarily feel bad about yelling at you, but he definitely feels more embarrassed that Malleus had to apologize to you about his behavior. If anything, Sebek feels more awkward around you.
As he’s known for his strong voice, Sebek finds himself at a loss on how to get his words across to you. More often than not, he tends to grow quieter around you and relies on your notebook and pen to communicate to you—though it doesn’t feel quite right to him. He much prefers looking at you when communicating, rather than staring at a paper to convey his thoughts.
When he watches others closer to you use sign language, there’s a growing frustration that stirs inside him. And since Sebek is very open with his emotions, Lilia, Malleus, and Silver immediately notice his envy towards your other friends and do their best to help him.
The morning sun streamed through the open windows of the hallway, cascading a gentle light on Sebek as he walked briskly through the corridors. His hardened gaze scanned the hallways, weaving in between still tired students that eyed him warily. Yet he didn’t pay them any mind—Not when he was too focused on the task at hand.
It was minutes later did he finally find the target of his search. You were just entering through the mostly empty main entrance of the school. Oddly enough, there was no Grim or other first-years at your side, but Sebek wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Ah, prefect!” He says instinctively, straightening his back. You were occupied with sleepily rubbing your eyes to notice him, but Sebek didn’t mind. He continued making his way to you, making sure to stay within your line of sight while ignoring how his blood rushed through his veins.
The first-year was halfway to you when you finally opened your eyes. Immediately, your gaze landed on him and a darling smile graced your face. You crossed the distance to meet the half-fae in the middle while taking out your notebook and pen out of the bookbag slung over your shoulder. It was when the two of you were a foot apart did you quickly scribble across the paper. After a few seconds, you flipped the notebook over so he could read it.
There, covering the sheet was your handwriting—Distinct and wholly yours. ‘Good morning, Sebek!’ filled the white page, and it was enough to have his heart rate begin to frustratingly increase. Once he finished reading the words, you held out your notebook and pen towards him, clearly expecting the Diasomnia student to take it into his hands. However, your expression morphed into mild confusion when Sebek took a small step back.
With a deep breath, Sebek raised both of his hands with his palms raised upwards. His left hand started at his face before moving down towards his right hand that hovered lower at his chest. Smoothly, his left arm moved underneath his right hand and raised back up, keeping his right hand near his left elbow.
“G-Good morning,” Sebek stammered softly. There was a tenderness that laced his words, a tone you unfortunately won’t hear, and a good part of him was utterly grateful that there weren’t many other students that were nearby to witness his pitiful self.
Despite the stiff movements and obvious awkwardness on the half-fae’s face, you looked at him with awe. There was a pretty shine in your eyes as a wide smile began to bloom across your face. Without hesitation, you tuck your notebook and pen between your legs and mirror his signing enthusiastically.
Across from you, Sebek falls completely silent. Something heavy stirs in his chest as the first-year takes in the sight of your glowing expression—already committing the way your eyes lit up upon seeing him sign for the first time to memory. Then there’s an embarrassing heat that rushes to his face, and Sebek raises a hand to his lips, feigning to cough in an attempt to hide his furious blush. Even as you silently beamed up at him, Sebek suddenly can’t find the strength to make eye contact with you.
Thank the Sevens that there wasn’t anyone else around to see him like this.
