Lilith

[liliths-missing-book]

Hiii my name's Lilith! This is my reblog/dump account, my main account where I do writing is here

[cafeoleconlimoncito]

Sebek!!

[ashstfu]

the “pleasure to have in class” to overly active tumblr user pipeline

[sensiblereblogifposts]

Reblog if you were a pleasure to have in class

[nekonaps0]

Where do babies come from?

✦fem!reader

✦characters: overbolt boys

✦“Then where do babies come from?”

Riddle Rosehearts

It was a peaceful afternoon in the Rosehearts household, tea steaming gently on the table, a book resting on Riddle’s lap as he enjoyed a rare quiet moment. That calm, of course, didn’t last long.

“Papa?” a small voice piped up.

Riddle looked up from his book to see his son, clutching something behind his back. His expression softened immediately. “Yes? What is it?”

The boy fidgeted a little before pulling out a colorful picture book. “I found this in the library! It says babies come from a lady’s belly.”

Riddle blinked. His heart skipped a beat. “…Ah. Yes, that’s… technically correct.”

The boy tilted his head, eyes wide and curious. “But how do they get in there?”

Riddle’s face went pale in an instant. His teacup trembled slightly as he set it down with a clink.

He opened his mouth once. Closed it. Opened it again. “…That’s… quite the question,” he said carefully, voice a touch higher than usual.

His son just waited patiently, eyes expectant.

“Well…” Riddle began, straightening his posture and trying his best. “That’s… a topic for when you’re a bit older. Much older, in fact.”

“But I wanna know now!”

Riddle’s composure was visibly cracking. His ears were red, and his hand twitched like he wanted to point at something…anything…just to avoid the conversation.

“Er…tell me, where did you find that book?” he asked quickly, slipping into full on parent mode. “Perhaps I should… ah… put it somewhere safer.”

His son blinked up at him innocently. “It was on the bottom shelf in the library. Next to the gardening books!”

“Of course it was,” Riddle muttered under his breath, massaging his temple.

He stood and gently patted his son’s head. “Thank you for telling me, dear. Why don’t you go wash your hands and get ready for snack time? I’ll, ah… take care of this book for now.”

As the little boy skipped away happily, Riddle sighed in relief, clutching the offending picture book to his chest. He definitely wasn’t ready for that conversation. Maybe when his son turned sixteen. Or twenty.

He glanced toward the kitchen, where you were humming to yourself, and murmured under his breath, “You’re handling the next round of questions, my rose.”

Leona Kingscholar

The late afternoon sun was warm, golden, and perfect for napping. Leona was stretched out on the couch in the living room, one arm slung over his face, tail flicking lazily against the cushions. He was deep in dreamland, that rare, blissful state where no one was pestering him about duties or responsibilities.

At least… until a small voice shattered the peace.

“Daddy!”

He groaned, one eye cracking open. “…Im sleeping, cub.”

His daughter, of course, didn’t care. She bounced up beside him, eyes wide with that unstoppable curiosity she definitely inherited from you.

“So, I was with Uncle Ruggie today,” she began, completely ignoring his grumbling. “We were buying fruit, and I saw this lady with a huge belly! I asked Uncle Ruggie why it was so big, and he said she’s pregnant!”

Leona’s tail stopped moving.

“Uh-huh…” he said warily.

“Then I asked him how the baby got in there!?” she continued innocently. “And he said I should ask you!”

Both his eyes snapped open.

That traitor.

He sat up, squinting at his daughter for a long, silent moment while mentally debating whether to strangle Ruggie later or fake dead his way out of this conversation.

But her wide, curious eyes and trusting little face made him sigh in defeat.

Alright. Time to improvise.

“Well, you see, cub…” he started slowly, scratching his neck. “When a man and a woman really love each other, they… uh… wanna get close to each other.”

She tilted her head. “Like hugging?”

Leona froze for a beat, then seized on the opportunity. “Exactly. Hugging. When a woman hugs a man too much, sometimes a baby starts growin’ in her belly.”

Her eyes went wide. “Really!?”

“Yep” he said, nodding, proud of his quick save. “So, you’d better not let any little boys hug you, got it?”

She gasped and nodded fiercely. “Okay! No boys allowed!”

“’Atta girl” he said with a grin, already lying back down.

But then

“What about you, Daddy? You’re a boy too!”

Leona cracked a lazy smile, patting her head. “Family doesn’t count. You can hug me all you want, cub.”

Satisfied with his brilliant parenting, he went right back to sleep.

A few days later…

Leona was rudely awakened again, this time by you standing over him, arms crossed, foot tapping, with your phone in hand.

“Leona Kingscholar” you said in that dangerous calm voice.

He cracked one eye open. “…what’d I do now?”

You crossed your arms tighter. “Why did Jack just call me to say our daughter refused to hug him because she ‘doesn’t want a baby in her belly’!?”

Leona blinked. Then blinked again.

Then snorted, tail flicking lazily as a smirk spread across his face. “Hah. Guess she listens well. Smart kid.”

You gawked at him. “Leona!”

He chuckled and rolled over, muffling his laughter in a pillow. “What? I was improvisin’, herbivore. Better she learns that than the real thing.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re impossible.”

Azul Ashengrotto

It was a calm, quiet evening drive, or, well, it had been.

Azul’s hands rested neatly on the steering wheel, eyes on the road, the faint hum of the engine mixing with the rhythmic tap of his fingers. The wind through the open window made him feel almost relaxed after a long day of paperwork.

In the backseat, his daughter was happily swinging her legs, clutching a little plush octopus that Jade had given her earlier.

“I had sooo much fun with Uncle Jade today!” she said brightly. “He even let me watch TV!”

Azul’s smile twitched. “…He did, did he?”

He loved his business partner like a brother, but too much screen time for his little girl? That was not on the list of approved activities. He made a mental note to discuss this with Jade later.

“What did you watch, sweetheart?” he asked, forcing a calm tone.

“A documentary!” she chirped proudly. “It was about octopuses! Did you know they come from eggs?”

Azul blinked. “Ah, yes, I’m aware.”

“Uncle Jade said that baby octopuses hatch from eggs, and I saw it!” she continued, eyes wide. “So… does that mean I came from an egg too?”

Azul nearly swerved.

He cleared his throat, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “N-No, my dear, absolutely not. You did not come from an egg.”

She tilted her head, confused. “Then… where did I come from?”

He tried to choose his words very carefully. “From your mother’s belly.”

For a blissful three seconds, there was silence. Azul allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Maybe that would be the end of it…

“But how did I get in Mommy’s belly?”

Azul froze.

His jaw locked, his eyes flicking toward the road like they could save him from this question.That was the exact moment he realized, he made a terrible, terrible mistake.

The car went quiet for several seconds.

Finally, Azul inhaled deeply through his nose, straightened his tie, and with the smoothest voice he could muster said

“That… is an excellent question, darling.”

A pause.

Then, with a perfectly polite smile that masked his absolute internal panic

“I think… your mother can explain that one far better than I can.”

“Really?” she asked. “But you’re smart, Daddy!”

His eye twitched. “Y-Yes, well, even geniuses know when to defer to the proper authority.”

She beamed, totally oblivious. “Okay! I’ll ask Mommy when we get home!”

Azul’s knuckles went white around the steering wheel. “…Wonderful.”

By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was sweating. The moment he saw you at the door, he gave you that please handle this before I collapse look.

You blinked, already suspicious. “Azul? Everything alright?”

He adjusted his glasses with a stiff smile. “Oh, yes, my pearl. Our daughter just had… a few educational questions for you.”

And then he fled to his office before you could ask why.

Jamil Viper

It was one of those calm afternoons when everything was, for once, normal. Just Jamil quietly chopping vegetables in the kitchen while the smell of spiced curry filled the air.

Then, his son came in, dragging his favorite toy snake by the tail.

“Dad?”

Jamil hummed without looking up, still chopping onions with practiced ease. “Mm?”

“I’m lonely at home” the boy said, lower lip puffed out. “I want a little brother or sister to play with.”

Jamil paused, his knife hovering in the air. Ah. There it was. The kind of conversation he was not emotionally prepared for before lunch.

He turned slightly, offering a patient smile. “That’s… not really something you can just get in a minute, you know. It’s not that easy.”

“But why?”

“Because…” he started, already regretting opening his mouth. “…babies are… complicated.”

His son tilted his head, clearly not satisfied. “Where do babies come from, then?”

Jamil froze. His expression didn’t change, outwardly calm, perfectly neutral, but internally, he was screaming.

He stood there for a long moment, considering all his options. Then, with the same cool composure he gave the smartest answer he could think of

“You should ask your mother.”

And that was that. Or so he thought.

Five peaceful minutes passed. He went back to chopping vegetables, humming softly to himself, mentally congratulating his quick thinking. Then tiny footsteps returned.

He didn’t even turn around when he heard his son’s voice again. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Mom said to tell you…”

The tone. Jamil already knew this wasn’t going to end well. He slowly turned, raising an eyebrow. “…What did she say?”

“She said, ‘I carried, now you explain it.’”

Jamil blinked. Once. Twice. Then stared blankly at the wall like his brain had just blue screened. There was a long, painful silence. The kind that only happened when Jamil was truly defeated.

He finally exhaled, setting down the knife and rubbing his temples. “…Of course she did.”

His son watched, eyes bright. “So? Where do they come from?”

Jamil gave him a long, serious look, the kind that could silence a whole room.

Then he said, in the calmest voice possible “You know, maybe it’s time you and your mother both went to visit Uncle Kalim. I’m sure he’d love to explain it.”

“Really? Yay!” the boy cheered and ran off toward the living room, leaving Jamil staring into the middle distance.

He sighed deeply, muttering under his breath, “If Kalim actually tries, I’m moving out.”

Vil Schoenheit

The court of Princess Schoenheit’s tea party was in session.

Plastic tiaras, sparkling tulle skirts, mismatched dolls and at the center of it all sat Vil and his little daughter, sipping “tea” from pink plastic cups with all the grace.

“Thank you for the invitation, my darling” Vil said smoothly, crossing one leg over the other with dramatic elegance. “This blend of chamomile is divine.”

His daughter giggled, her golden curls bouncing. “Thank you Papa! I made it myself!”

“Of course you did,” he said proudly, pretending to take a delicate sip. “Flawless as expected from my daughter.”

They continued their sophisticated chatter for a while, discussing her stuffed animals latest scandals and who would host the next tea party. Then Vil, in his ever graceful way, decided to bring up some real world news.

“By the way, my dear” he said, smiling warmly, “Uncle Rook and his wife going to have a baby soon.”

Her eyes widened, her little hands gripping the teapot with excitement. “Really?! Then we can have another tea party guest!”

“Indeed” Vil said with a pleased hum. “Another precious little one to add to our circle.”

But then she blinked, her expression turning thoughtful. “…Papa? Where did Uncle Rook get the baby?”

Vil froze for half a second. His perfectly trained smile faltered, just a flicker, before returning in place. Oh, Seven help him. He should have seen that question coming.

“Well…” he began, setting down his cup “when a man and a woman truly love one another, a stork brings them a baby. That’s how it’s always been.”

A harmless tale, of course. She was too young for anything more, and honestly, a touch of whimsy suited the occasion.

But instead of the awe he expected, his daughter grimaced. “Eww, I don’t like boys, boys are gross.”

Vil blinked, then immediately, immediately, nodded in full agreement.

“Yes. Yes, they are” he said, leaning closer. “They are terribly messy, often inconsiderate, and most of them do not even moisturize.”

She gasped in horror. “They don’t?!”

“Tragic, isn’t it?” Vil said with a sigh, hand pressed dramatically over his chest. “Which is why you mustn’t even bat an eye at them. Keep your standards high, my darling. Only family, your Papa, and perhaps Uncle Rook are exceptions.”

She nodded with determination, her little brow furrowed. “Okay! I’ll only love you, Mommy, Uncle Rook, and Grandpa. No boys.”

Vil smiled, satisfied, and very proud of himself. “Excellent choice, my love. I see you’ve inherited my taste and my wisdom.”

He lifted his teacup again and took another imaginary sip.

Idia Shroud

The lab was quiet, soft hum of machines and the frantic tapping of Idia’s keyboard. His hair glowed a low, steady blue as he mumbled to himself about codes, fully immersed in his latest program.

Everything was perfect, until a small voice broke his concentration.

“Dad.”

Idia flinched so hard his knee hit the underside of the desk. “Huh?! Wh-What-oh, it’s just you.”

He turned to see his son standing at the doorway, arms crossed, cheeks puffed out in the same adorable pout that Idia could never say no to.

“Uh… hey, champ. You look kinda serious. What’s up?”

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “I want a sibling.”

Idia’s hands froze over the keyboard. His glowing hair flickered from blue to pink. “Y–You what?!”

“I want a brother or sister!” the kid said firmly, stomping a foot. “I’m alone. Everyone else has siblings to play with! Uncle Ortho has you, but I don’t have anyone. It’s not fair!”

Idia’s brain short circuited for a second. He stammered, trying to form words while his son glared up at him. “O-okay, first off, buddy uh… that’s not how it works. You can’t just… order a sibling.”

“But why not?”

“Because…uh…it’s complicated! You see, um… getting a baby is a… uh… long term… cooperative side quest, and uh…requires two players, okay?”

The boy tilted his head. “Then where do babies come from if it’s so difficult?”

Oh no. Idia’s internal system crashed. He could practically hear the Windows error sound in his brain. He needed an answer. Any answer.

“Well…” he began nervously, sweating bullets, “you see, when a-a woman… eats… uh… too many jelly beans… it… starts growing in her belly, and uh…. ta-da! Baby!”

He even added jazz hands. Jazz hands.

His son blinked. “…Really?”

Idia nodded furiously. “Y-yeah, totally. I mean, you know how sugar’s like, uh… energy and life force, right? And moms are super powerful beings, so, uh… yeah! Jelly beans equal baby. Science.”

The kid seemed to consider this seriously before gasping in awe. “That’s so cool!”

“Y-yeah… cool…” Idia muttered weakly, turning back to his monitor in the hope that the conversation was over. His hair slowly dimmed back to a relieved blue as he heard his son run off, muttering something about jelly beans.

Peace returned for a blissful five minutes. Until he heard you call from the kitchen.

“Idia! Sweetheart!”

The tone was too sweet. “Y-yeah?”

You appeared in the doorway holding a bowl full of jelly beans, and your son right behind you, grinning proudly.

“Would you care to explain” you said, eyes narrowing, “why your child is trying to feed me jelly beans every minutes and saying it’ll give him a sibling?”

Idia turned pink to the tips of his hair. “Uh…uhhhh…uh, you see, it’s-it’s a science project?”

You stared. “A science project?”

From behind you, your son proudly offered another jelly bean. “Mama, eat more! I want a baby sister!”

Idia just whined. “I’m uninstalling myself from this whole conversation…”

Malleus Draconia

It was supposed to be a quiet evening in Briar Valley. The sky shimmered faintly outside the castle windows, and Malleus was in his study, writing letters and sipping tea when an unmistakable sound echoed, the screaming of small children.

He sighed, setting down his pen. “…Ah. The little thunder and lightning are at it again.”

He strode down the hall with regal calm, though a faint flicker of worry glimmered in his green eyes. Opening the door to the twins bedroom, he was met with chaos.

Toys were scattered everywhere, his daughter face was red and tear streaked, and his son stood with his arms crossed, looking both defensive and guilty.

“What is the meaning of this?” Malleus asked gently, voice deep but calm as always.

“She said!” “He said!”

They both started at once, their little voices overlapping until Malleus lifted a hand, and the air itself seemed to hush.

“One at a time,” he said. “Sweetheart, you may speak first.”

She sniffled, rubbing her eyes. “Daddy, he said I’m not your real daughter! He said you found me in a box on the street and took me home!”

Malleus blinked, his ears twitching slightly in disbelief. He turned his gaze to his son. “Is this true?”

The boy scowled, chin raised in defiance. “Well, she started it! She told me I was the street baby first!”

Malleus closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. the kind of breath.

“Children” he began “Neither of you were found in any box on any street. You are both our beloved children.”

The twins exchanged wary looks.

“Then where did we come from?” his daughter asked, tilting her head curiously. “If we weren’t found, how did we get here?”

Malleus smiled fondly. “You both came from your mother’s belly, of course.”

That answer, he thought, would settle it. Simple, truthful enough, and free of unnecessary details. But instead of relief, the twins only looked more confused.

His son squinted. “…How did we get in there?”

His daughter nodded eagerly, wide eyed. “Yeah! Did Mama eat us?!”

Malleus froze. The calm, regal smile on his face went utterly still, as if his soul had momentarily left his body. He stood there in dignified silence for a long moment. The twins blinked up at him, waiting.

Finally, with all the composure, Malleus cleared his throat. “…Perhaps…” he said slowly, “you should ask your grandfather Lilia. He is… quite experienced in such matters.”

He thought that was a brilliant deflection, wise, strategic, perfectly logical. Until he heard your voice echo down the hall

“MALLEUS DRACONIA!”

He visibly flinched as your footsteps approached, fast and furious.

“I swear!” you said, appearing in the doorway with your hands on your hips, “if you ever let Lilia educate our children about that—!”

Malleus’s expression turned sheepish, shoulders slightly hunched like a guilty child himself. “Ah… my love, I was merely suggesting he might… elaborate upon the biological aspects.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Biological aspects, huh? Do you want him to tell them about the ‘romantic fire of youth’ and ‘fae rituals’ again?”

Malleus winced. “…Perhaps not.”

The twins looked between you and their father, utterly lost.

“Does this mean we were found in a box?” the boy whispered.

..............................................................................................................................

[night-raven-tattler]

Dear Santa, this year I've been...

Summary: you write a letter to Santa as an attempt to pretend you were okay during what was supposed to be Christmas. Your partner finds it and reads your unfortunate lament.

Characters: Leona, Jamil, Sebek × GN!Reader (romantic, established relationship)

Warnings: hurt/comfort

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Dear Santa,

I know you don't exist in this world. I know you don't even exist in general. But you're one of the only connections I have to my home, my family, my life. I miss the gifts, the Christmas morning, the home cooked meals... I miss the comfort of having my family to spend it with."

The letter seemed to weight heavily in Leona's hand, his eyes skimming through the lines... before he read the words again, and again, and again

Loneliness seemed to seep through each inky line, curve and bubble

Your relationship with Leona did fill some of that hole, but to think that he alone could mend whatever was left open of your heart was foolish

And yet, he scoffed at wanting to do it anyway

Leona was so familiar with that sort of loneliness, to the open wounds that never seemed to close no matter how much he licked them

He was smart enough to figure out what a "Santa" was, some sort of figure that represented everything you might've felt you were lacking

So when he invited you to Savanaclaw to "nap together", he didn't hesitate

He wasn't the type to beat around the bush, and he didn't have enough context to fish it out of you skilfully

So he gave you a simple question as he let the letter fall on his bed

"Who is this 'Santa' guy?"

You froze, of course you did

The sight of that piece of paper reminded you of that painful day you had recently in which you just grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down whatever to get your mind off of things

Leona didn't rush you for an answer, his tail swishing back and forth like a slow paced metronome, measuring second a few at a time

And eventually you did open your mouth

"It's... just some silly tradition."

Your answer was the first coherent thing that went through your mind, and clearly it dissatisfied Leona

Something he showed with a click of his tongue

"If it's 'just some silly tradition', why did waste your time writting 'im a letter?"

Leona always knew what buttons to push to get an answer

And so you sighed, sitting down on the bed to talk about the holiday he's never heard of

About the old man dressed in red who, according to some legend, flew in a sleigh across the world and gave people presents

About how he represented a holiday that brought people together, but you had no one to bring together to

That you missed your family, old social circle, little community

And all that Leona did was listen

His green eyes stayed fixated on you as he gave various hums of agreement while you spoke

And lonely explanations slowly turned into heartfelt stories as you shared family tales with a small smile, being egged on by a very hooked Leona

As nonchalant as he usually was, Leona did have good reactions to stories, scoffing or snorting at the best times to rile you up even further

When you were done and fell into a bit of a silence, he could still felt some tension from you

In which moment he decided to bring out a small gift box

The moment your eyes fell on the box, you frowned

"Leona, you didn't have to..."

"No, but I wanted to. Now shush and open the box."

The ribbon atop the lid fell away as you tugged at it gently, and taking the lid off reveal the small gift he prepared

A wooden bead bracelet whose symbols and color coordination were the same as the ones in his hair and on his writs

"I know I can't replace the people you cared for or be more important than them... and I don't want to. You deserve more people to love you, not less. Now, is there something you usually say when you give the gift, or am I supposed to just hand it off and stare at you like an idiot?"

The small laugh that escaped you as Leona's words reached your ears didn't go unnoticed

"We say 'Merry Christmas'."

"'Merry Christmas', huh?"

He sat up and came close slowly, gently leaning his head against yours

"Merry Christmas. And even merrier to come, now that you're mine."

『••✎••』

"Dear Santa,

I know I'm not 8 anymore. I have no logical reason to rely on something as stupid as fictional figure that brings gifts to people. But... I still want to pretend that I have the choice to believe. That I have the choice to go to bed and still expect that lit up Christmas tree, the wrapped gifts, the warm food to greet me in the morning, even though I know I won't."

The handwriting on the piece of paper was unmistakably yours, and Jamil always held onto everything of yours

Despite not taking the time to read it right away, he folded it and put it in his pocket to return to later

And, when he was able to read it, he was hit by how... close to home your words hit

It seemed like in whichever form it was taken away in, freedom still tortured people, huh...

And worst of all, he could relate to wishing he could just wake up in... a happier world, a world in which he could only be happy

A world of joy, of relaxation, of being able to choose what to do

He twisted around in his bed, the mattress sinking in every other corner as Jamil was as restless as his mind

What could even possibly soothe the loss in your heart? What could make you shine as bright as the ornaments you wrote about with the fond glee of a child?

The next day, you rose from your bed... only to see a sizeable bouquet of flowers on your nightstand

Various garlands of paper and tinsel adorned the edges of your room, and there was a note next to the bouquet.

'When you wake up, come to my dorm room. Don't get breakfast. Wear comfortable clothes.' - J.V.

The pleasant scent of the flowers he got for you seemed to lift your mood immediately, and you rushed to get ready

When you finally reached your destination, you knocked on the door before walking in

Jamil's low table was full of breakfast goodies, steaming and inviting

And, on the bed, was your boyfriend who seemed to come out of practicing his waiting pose for you

"Good morning. I hope you enjoy the little feast."

You slowly walked into the room as the door closed behind you, and your gaping mouth told Jamil that everything was very much... unexpected

"What's with... all this?"

Your question was followed by a gesture meant to silently ennumerate everything

Jamil smirked, enjoying thoroughly the confusion and surprise on your face

"Well, I just felt the need to spoil you today. Is that not allowed?"

His little faux pout did make you chuckle a little bit

Maybe Jamil noticed that you were down lately and wanted to spoil you?

Jamil didn't mention anything about what he found

But when he went to the bathroom, you saw a conveniently placed piece of paper that was sticking out of Jamil's nightstand drawer, calling your name like a siren

Much to your surprise, it was your own piece of paper and upset ramblings about Christmas

And the way it was sticking out of the drawer so carelessly made you think this was Jamil's own way of saying he knew

He knew, and he understood

And it was why you remained glued to his side for the whole day, just enjoying each other's company

By the time you had to return to your dorm, you kissed Jamil goodbye and chuckled softly

"Just for future reference... Christmas is on the 24th, so you're a little early. And a Christmas tree is a fin tree decorated in tinsel, but the flowers were perfect for your first attempt."

Jamil smirked at your little citique, the unspoken acknowledgement of his efforts being sealed with a peck to your lips

"Duly noted. But I do hope you help with decorations next time. It's hard decorating for a holiday you know nothing about."

You laughed at his words, very much excited by the idea of a proper Christmas with Jamil

A fusion of the two worlds that created and nurtured you into the person Jamil allowed himself to fall in love with

"The only thing I love more than that idea is you."

『••✎••』

"Dear Santa,

I can't believe I'm actually writing a letter to you. The last time I did that was when my dad still used to dress up as Santa and give us gifts. I miss the effort everyone in my family used to put to keep the magic alive for us kids. With how bad my year has been, I wish I had some sort of magic uplift me..."

It wasn't quite a proper letter, more like random thoughts scrambled on a crumpled piece of paper that Sebek found in his room

He never crumpled his trash before throwing it away, he only folded it; besides, the writing was definitely not his

Didn't you two have a study session the other day? Because, in your words, "he's smart and explains everything loud and clear... very loud"

So he deduced the letter was yours... but now what?

He was sitting on his bed, feeling guilty for holding a broken piece of your heart in his hands without your consent

And yet, he wanted to mend it... if only he knew how

His first instinct was to go to Lilia for advice

Despite being prone to pranking Sebek, Lilia understood the weight of the situation, and he gave Sebek only one piece of advice

"This is something you should talk about with them. As their partner, you have to guard their heart when they're vulnerable... and I believe I've taught you enough about guarding people for you to know what to do."

Sebek was a man of precise facts, accurate measurements, knowledge and science; emotions were none of those

But for you, he'd learn to measure the heaviness of your heart and calculate ways to bring you peace

And so, he sat at his desk as he went through drafts after drafts of letters that mirrored what he was feeling

He knew he was too easy to anger or excite, too hard headed for a direct confrontation that would leave him feeling out of control

But writing it down helped put his thoughts in order, gave him the time to fish through his own fears and

The next day, you found an envelope outside your dorm room door, with a green wax stamp sealing it

Careful not to break the wax, you opened the letter and were greeted by Sebek's neat handwriting

"Dear Reader,

I must confess the sin of betraying your privacy by reading a stray letter you seem to have left in my dorm room. I apologise and will pay for my misgivings as you see fit.

But I did read it, and it left me with a deeper understanding of your loss. I may not know what a Santa is, but I am ready to provide you support in any form you shall seek. I can get you a present or invite you to my family for dinner. They may not be solutions, but I do not want to mend something you may not be ready to do.

Please take your time to answer to my proposal. Your dearly beloved, Sebek Zigvolt."

Before you knew it, hastly and clumsy legs carried you to Diasomnia in a rush

You frantically knocked on Sebek's door, and when he opened it...

You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the silence and Sebek's warm body that felt like a hug from someone you missed

When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him

"Dinner with your family sounds great, but... I don't need a present. You're the best gift I've ever gotten."

And, judging by the way the tip of his ears reddened and his arms around you tightened, you could tell he knew you meant it

『••✎••』

[krroppi]

monitoring.

he just wants to talk u-u

[naginomanabu-log-deactivated202]

アニメ4話

X @manabi_zekkei

[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.

…

…

…

“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.”

[cloudcountry]

:333 hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

im on my octatrio bs again (when have i ever left). could i request floyd jade and azul but they somehow get flustered by the reader and hide their face in their hats? seeing them squirm (affectionate) makes me happy :)

also remember to take care of urself if u havent gotten up in a while go do that 🔫xoxoxooxo yao

SUMMARY: you fluster some fishies so bad they hide behind their hats!

COMMENTS: hi floyd's fishie :3c it was hard coming up with ways to fluster them and still have them act all smooth and in character LMAO

REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOO 🔫🔫 bap bap auburn

You’re staring at him, and it’s making Azul very nervous. He adjusts his glass, clearing his throat as he looks up from the study guide in front of him, giving you a skeptical stare. The soft blue lighting of Mostro Lounge makes you look so dreamy, and he can’t tell if it’s actually the lighting or if your face really looks as lovestruck as he thinks it is. He feels his cheeks heat up but he ignores it, making a point to press a single gloved finger against your worksheets. He asks you the first question that comes to mind, and he isn’t even sure it makes sense, especially when you hide your grin behind your hand and giggle. You tell him he looks handsome instead of answering his question and it's like the nail in the coffin. Azul’s hat tumbles off his head as he slams back against the booth, snatching up his hat and covering his face. He disguises the gesture with a cough and an excuse before running off, shutting himself in his VIP Room.

It isn’t hard to make Jade laugh, you’ve learned. All you have to do is crack a pun or two about the current situation, and you’ll be blessed with the most undignified snort and giggle combo you’ve ever heard. It makes all the more willing to make jokes about his “morels” and more recently how “cap-tivating” he is, just to see him take his hat off and hide his laughter. His shaking shoulders give him away though, even when he puts his hat back on and hides his toothy smile with a hand to maintain some sort of professionalism. It’s only after a particularly cheesy fungi joke you make when sitting right next to him that you notice his pink cheeks behind his hat, and it gives you pause. Has Jade Leech been blushing over your mushroom puns this whole time?

Floyd isn’t easy to fluster. One would say it’s impossible—but you’ve learned that it’s very possible. Floyd just has to be in the right mood. He has to be a little bit clingy, a little bit sweet, and just the right amount of whiny. Snuggle up with him in one of the Mostro Lounge’s booth, pet his hair and kiss his forehead, really love on him no matter who is around you and before you know it he’ll be pliant in your arms, his hand clenched in his hands as he holds it over his pouty lipped face. He may look grumpy but don’t be fooled, this eel is so in love with you and he’ll never get sick of your affections.

TAGLISTS -> azul's business partners . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> jade's mushrooms . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @welcometomypersonalhell098 @dove-da-birb

-> floyd's fishies . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @welcometomypersonalhell098 @dove-da-birb

[jazzies-stuff]

Any excuse to draw whump I will take gladly

For @leovilweek day 3: Wound

[meliacamellia]

did a love limit doodle for my pookie hehe

love limit is such a fun and silly game i love this dork and cant wait for the fan disk to come out

[nekonaps0]

Louder than thunder, softer than cotton.

✦Sebek Zigvolt x Fem!Reader

✦fluff / comfort / calm reader /

✦Sebek is loud. You’re quiet. He’s fire, and you’re mist. And somehow, no one understands how it works except the two of you.

Sebek is loud. You’re quiet. He’s fire, and you’re mist. And somehow, no one understands how it works except the two of you.

It always started the same way.

“YOUNG MASTER MALLEUS IS NOT TO BE IGNORED! HOW DARE YOU—!”

SLAM.

The doors to the Hall shuddered from the force of Sebek’s boot. Students scattered like startled birds as he stormed down the hallway, green hair practically bristling with outrage, shoes clinking with every step.

Jack groaned from where he stood with Epel nearby. “He’s at it again.”

“What now?” Epel asked with a sigh.

Jack folded his arms. “Apparently someone didn’t greet Malleus senpai properly again.”

“Great Seven…” Epel rubbed his temples. “Can’t we just lock him in a closet for like ten minutes?”

That’s when they saw you, peacefully seated at the edge of the hallway bench, reading a book, surrounded by a little aura of calmness that seemed untouched by the chaos Sebek had just caused.

And that’s also when something incredible happened.

The moment Sebek stormed past and caught sight of you, he froze mid yell.

You didn’t even flinch.

You turned the page slowly, then looked up at him with that serene smile that always made his throat go dry.

“Sebek” you said gently, “your voice is echoing again.”

“…!! I…I apologize!” he barked, though already half the volume. His back straightened like a soldier being evaluated by a superior. “I did not realize I was being so… disruptive.”

Jack and Epel exchanged shocked looks.

“Did she just…?”

“She shut him down with a sentence.”

You patted the bench beside you. “Would you like to sit with me for a little while?”

Sebek flushed from ear to neck. “…Yes. That would be… agreeable.”

And he sat… quietly. No yelling, no dramatics, no stormclouds.

Just Sebek.

With you.

Sebek was loud, sharp, over the top, and dramatic in every way imaginable. He trained like he was preparing to fight armies, studied like he wanted to memorize every word ever writtenl, and shouted like he was constantly delivering wartime speeches.

You, on the other hand, were the human equivalent of soft sunlight through painted glass.

Calm. Quiet. Warm.

And completely immune to Sebek’s volume.

The two of you had confused the entirety of Diasomnia… and NRC, really, for months now. No one could figure out how you worked.

Lilia had caught on quickly, of course. And Malleus… well, he simply nodded and said something poetic.

But everyone else? Bewildered.

To you, it made perfect sense.

Because you loved Sebek.

You first started to fall for him during one of his daily training in the Diasomnia. You had stayed, reading peacefully on a bench nearby.

That day, he’d overdone it, tumbled mid swing, and nearly landed flat on his back with a loud clang. He’d expected you to laugh or panic.

But instead, you’d calmly approached him and offered your hand.

“You’re strong,” you said, smiling. “But you push yourself too hard, Sebek.”

He blinked up at you. “I—! I must train to protect Lord Malleus!”

“I know,” you said, your voice gentle. “But even soldiers need to rest. Even swords need to be sharpened, not shattered.”

And something inside him softened, then bloomed.

Now?

Now it was an open secret that you had some kind of power over him. You didn’t abuse it. You didn’t tease him or make fun of his loyalty.

You just supported him.

You praised him.

And when you did, he went absolutely still, like a man struck by lightning in the middle of a speech.

“Sebek,” you murmured one evening, brushing grass from his shoulder as he stood beside you during a moonlit walk. “You really are incredible.”

His chest puffed up immediately. “W-WHAT?! INCREDIBLE?! I… THAT IS TO SAY—THANK YOU!”

“You’re brave,” you continued, quieter. “You’re so loyal it scares people. But I think that’s because they don’t understand what it’s like to carry your kind of fire.”

Sebek’s voice caught in his throat.

And when your hand slid into his, soft, delicate fingers threading with his, he thought he might faint.

The first time he kissed you, it was clumsy. Almost painful…He had leaned in too fast, and nearly knocked your forehead with his.

But you’d laughed so gently, cupped his face, and guided him the rest of the way with infinite patience.

His lips trembled when they touched yours. Like he’d waited his whole life for something sacred and wasn’t sure if he was worthy of it.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Sebek,” you whispered afterward, thumb stroking his cheek. “You already did.”

Now, you were sitting together in the Diasomnia library.

You were studying. And Sebek was…well, doing his best not to yell at Epel, who had dared to insult Malleus ashion sense.

You rested your hand on his. “Sebek.”

His eyes snapped to yours.

You smiled. “Inside voice.”

He swallowed. “Ah… yes. Of course.”

Epel blinked. “She’s got you trained, huh?”

Sebek stood immediately, fists clenched. “I AM NOT—!”

You squeezed his hand.

He stopped.

“…ahem,” he said instead, lowering his voice. “I am merely… respect her wishes.”

You leaned against his arm, resting your head there. “Good job,” you said sweetly.

Sebek turned red to the tips of his ears.

One night, he asked you something he’d been terrified to say out loud.

“Why do you like me?”

You looked up from your book, blinking. “What do you mean?”

He swallowed. “I am… I am loud. And aggressive. I frighten people. I am not gentle or poetic or… or romantic like Lord Malleus or Rook senpai”

You tilted your head. “Do you want to be?”

“…No.”

“Then don’t be,” you said. “I love that you’re passionate. That you care deeply. That you shout when you’re nervous, and get flustered when I praise you. I love all the things that make you you, Sebek.”

He stared at you, lips parted in disbelief.

Then you reached up and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’re more than enough.”

Sebek held you for a long, long time after that.

And for once, he didn’t say a word.

..............................................................................................................................

I swear he deserves so much love! ✨💜

[ceruleancattail]

Oh also funny story- A friend knew I was a fan of Hololive, so he decided to get me a booster box of cards on a whim.

What he didn’t realise was that it was the “summer edition” version of the cards.

This man essentially brought a box full of girls in swimsuits and handled them to me with the straightest face I have ever seen in my life.

So I’m imagining poor, poor Jack who was ever so excited to recognise a series, or something you were crazy about… only to buy you the most suggestive, suspicious looking things of it accidentally. He… he wasn’t really looking. He only saw the character you liked and he brought it… because he thought you might like it.

HE DIDN’T MEAN TO GIVE YOU (insert lewd/suggestive/sexy piece of merchandise here) NO NO NO- HE’S NOT A PERVERT-

Oh great seven… the entire store saw him buy that with the biggest smile on his face… eh, why was he smiling? Be… because he thought it’ll make you happy, that’s why. He likes it.. when you smile.

Aw, come on! Don’t laugh at his misery!

Tch, what kind of cruel person are ya?

… well, at least you liked it.

[micorie]

♯┆losers in arms .ᐟ

Pairing: idia x fem!reader Summary: (wc 3.4k, wow i cooked) now that idia has graduated from NRC, not only must he take over the "family business", but (according to his parents) he must get married to some stupid noblewoman, too. today is the day he finally meets you for the first time, much to his chagrin. A/N: i was told by a friend that i MUST write this. and i trust their judgement.

'today is actually the worst', idia thought to himself as he trudged towards the fancy restaurant he was supposed to meet you in.

he feels out of his element in the stupid fancy suit his parents made him wear for the occasion, not to mention the acrid smell of the cologne that his father made him put on.

they even made two STYX workers escort him just so he wouldn't flake out last minute which he considered an egregious overreaction (he totally would have done so if they weren't there).

he steeled himself, taking a deep breath in front of the door and pulling on the handle.... only for it not to budge at all and for him to realize it was a push door.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck..." he mumbled under his breath, the air of confidence he built up along the way here now completely shattered.

"i can't do this!" he turned back to the two STYX employees, gaze pleading. maybe they'll take pity on him and let him loiter around the town for a few hours and then go back so he can pretend like he met you.

"it will be fine. just be a gentleman." one of the workers replied, not at all sympathetic to his pathetic frown.

"hahaha... hehehe. that's rich." idia felt like he was losing the plot.

"in you go." the other eployee said dryly, pushing idia inside the restaurant curtly and closing the door behind him. idia sat there, frozen, for about 5 seconds.

"dammit..." he muttered, swiveling his head around nervously to take a look at his surroundings. the interior of the place was cloyingly gaudy, that's for sure. something befitting of a spoiled rich prince's bedroom. jeez, he so doesn't belong in a place like this.

"...-ir?"

'seriously...? now i look like one of those rich boy normies who act like they're deathly allergic to beef that isn't wagyu.' idia chided whoever picked this as the meeting place in his head.

"...sir? are you okay?" the unfamiliar voice snapped him out of his thoughts and his eyes met with those of a young waiter for just a moment before his gaze fell to the ground.

"yes! yes. i-i'm just... dandy." idia cringed at how unconvincing he sounded. and who the hell uses the word 'dandy' anymore?! this is really the worst day ever.

"alright." the waiter didn't really look like he believed idia, but he took pity on him (thank the seven) and asked "your table number, please?" before holding out his hand in a practiced motion.

"oh, uh... here." idia awkwardly rummaged around his front pocket, pulling out a decorated slip of paper with a number gilded in gold printed on it.

"great. follow me, sir." the waiter instucted and led idia towards a set of private suites on the second floor of the restaurant. guess the two families weren't willing to spare any expense on this.

time seemed to slow down as the dreaded suite came into sight. he caught sight of your shoulder as the two of them approached the door, the sight hardly being conducive to a calm state of mind.

the waiter pulled out idia's chair for him, idia awkwardly sitting down on it without so much as glancing at you.

"another waiter will be with you shortly to collect your orders. you may order anything your heart desires since your meal has been paid in full beforehand, esteemed customers." the waiter bowed slightly in goodbye, then left idia alone to his worst nightmare.

"...hello." you started, voice soft and unsure. you held out your hand across the table, intending to shake his hand in greeting. alas, idia didn't intend to so much as look at you properly anytime soon, so you awkwardly retreated your arm back to your side, acting like you weren't totally embarrassed by this.

"...h-hi." idia managed to force out, his brows furrowing at the way he sounded. he can't believe he's sitting across his future WIFE right now. it feels like a crazy dream he's gonna wake up from any moment now. hopefully.

meanwhile you weren't sure what to think at that moment. he looked... strange. i mean, how many people with flames for hair does the average person meet in their lifetime? you had so many questions but decided to bite your tongue because your parents instructed you to "be a lady," and you assume asking unsolicited questions about someone's appearance doesn't exactly fall under the label of "ladylike".

then again, it was your family's fault for keeping you in the dark about him. they hadn't even showed you a picture of him beforehand, just gave you a slight summary of who he is and what his family does (which was an awful lot to spring on you at once).

you won't lie though, he is lowkey handsome. almost like one of the dateable options from otome games, but actually real. you heaved a silent sigh of relief. you were sort of expecting the other shoe to drop but you're glad it didn't come to that. at least not yet, since you don't know anything about him as of now.

he stole glances at you every few seconds, each one solidifying his belief that you will be one of the worst things to happen to him. your hair was impeccably groomed, your makeup looked like it was done by professionals and your dress gave off the air of a distinguished noblewoman... you were a total NORMIE. the type of girl who turns her nose at anything that isn't mainstream pop or love island or whatever the hell normies like nowadays.

an awkward silence enveloped the quaint room and the two of you both felt terrible about it. you took it upon yourself to break the ice.

"so, idia, huh?" you plastered a smile on your face, trying your best to not let your discomfort show. you felt so out of place in a fancy dress, makeup and heels. not to mention the cloyingly sweet perfume your parents made you put on.

"...yeah. t-that's me." idia replied quietly, not at all commiting to keeping the conversation alive.

you decided that trying to make conversation was going nowhere, so you pulled out the menu, which looked more like a fancy grimoire. is this one of those generic shojo anime which take place in a vaguely european medieval setting, or what?

at least it gave you ample distraction from your... hot date.

your first date - you realised. it was always potrayed as a somewhat sacred yet lighthearted experience for a young girl in all the romance animes you watched, but it really didn't feel that way right now.

it was more like the first day of high school, where you had to introduce yourself and say one fun fact about yourself except it's just one classmate instead of about 25 and that classmate is going to watch you walk down the aisle towards him in a few short weeks.

idia reached for the menu himself, holding it out in front of him with shaky hands. the two of you sat in awkward silence, deciding on what you should eat.

soon, the silence was interrupted by a knock on the door and the two of you placed your orders without even looking at each other.

as soon as the waiter left, you sighed. "i'm sorry, i just have to ask. why is your hair-" you gestured at his head "...like that?"

'here comes the dreaded question', idia groaned, almost pulling his knees to his chin but realising that'd be rude when his legs were halfway there and dropping them back down.

you so think he's ugly and weird looking and- wait, you're still staring at him expectantly? and your expression holds no visible disgust?

he relented.

"i-i don't know how much y-you know... about STYX." he really wished he had his handy-dandy tablet right about now. he was using up way too much brain power and LP trying to articulate sentences to a stranger's face.

"the basics, i guess? i just know it's a secret organization that investigates magic in some way." you recalled your parents giving you that briefing session just a few short hours earlier.

"so, uh. m-my family... we're cursed, o-or whatever. that's why my hair is... l-l-like that. it b-burns my blot." he really didn't feel like going into the details right now.

"whaaat? how cool! i mean, it isn't cool that you're cursed, but like, so cool! i wouldn't even need a flashlight to walk around at night!" you giggled, imagining having such hair yourself and being able to read manga at night without turning on the lights.

"... i dunno. it kinda sucks." idia muttered under his breath and the only reason you could actually hear what he said was because the two of you were alone in a silent room.

"oh, um. sorry then." you made the educated guess that asking to touch his hair will only make things worse. it didn't burn the wooden chair he's sitting on, so you assumed it wouldn't burn you either.

you shifted in your seat and the silence returned. this is going terribly. not only have you not made any progress with your date, you've also managed to offend him.

luckily, the waiter rescued you from your misery by coming back with the food. at least temporarily, since he unfortunately wasn't there to stay.

"i still can't believe i'm getting married to you in a month." you said gently, picking at your food. it was one of those restaurants where you pay 9999 madol for a meal that couldn't even satisfy a toddler, making you frown at your plate.

you mostly said the statement to yourself, feeling dejected at the notion. you can only suppose your parents married you off without a second thought because you'd stay in your room all day, gaming or watching anime - not really contributing to he household in any meaningful way.

you knew they didn't find your behaviour very befitting of your status as a noble and you sorta became the least of their priorities when it came to their children, which you thought you were fine with until they approached you one sunny summer day, telling you you're getting married to a complete stranger.

is that just how little you meant to them? they didn't even seem that torn up about letting you go, they just talked about it flatly as if they were asking you to go downstairs to eat dinner.

idia didn't seem very excited about being reminded of the reality of his predicament. "uh, yeah. m-me neither." he muttered, not even bothering to hide the disdain that twisted his expression.

'well, that makes two of us.' you thought to yourself, feeling even more dejected now that even your future spouse has made it clear he hates this. maybe you should just shut up for the rest of the day since you can't do anything but mess things up. you don't know what "normal" people talk about, dammit...

suddenly, the silence was interrupted by your phone ringing, which wouldn't be a very big issue if it weren't for the fact that your ringtone was set to a premo song of all things. you panicked, rummaging through your fancy little handbag to pull out your phone (which was littered with anime stickers under its clear case) and quickly explained to the person calling that you're busy.

after hanging up, you noticed idia staring at you like he had just seen you commit a murder and you cursed under your breath. 'fuck, he knows i'm a weirdo now...' you lamented, trying not to let the embarrassment show on your face. "sorry, i... i thought i set my phone to silent."

"you... YOU'RE A PREMO FAN?!" the atmosphere in the room suddenly felt VERY different. idia felt absolutely elated, not just at the fact that you're a girl who knows the absolute genius of premo's music, but because your ringtone was an obscure unreleased song from their early days, ergo not a "fake fan" song. you were the real deal.

"no way, you too?!" you let your excitement at finding a kindred spirit show by leaning closer to him and watching his hair flicker excitedly. you suddenly felt like you were breathing hallowed air.

"YES??? i've been a fan since the release of their first album! i even own the limited edition light stick." idia bragged with a proud smile on his face.

"oh sevens, you mean the ones that were only available for a few months after the release of their second album?! not faiiiiir, i want to have it so bad. i mean, i guess i could buy it from a reseller, but it doesn't hit the same, you know?" you clenched your fists, groaning.

"i get it, i get it." idia nodded sagely.

"so, who's your oshi? i just looove kassia's singing. can't believe they gave her barely any lines in their older songs." you glared at no one in particular, upset about the injustice against your oshi.

"i'm more of an ifegenie guy myself. nothing can beat her visual OR her stage presence."

you realise just now that he seems completely different to how he was just a minute ago. he's suddenly looking at you (and actually looking at you, for that matter) like you're the best person on earth, his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink due to excitement. and he seems to be speaking freely, like he isn't forced to be here anymore.

you relaxed because of the change in atmosphere, enough to drop the hand you were holding over your phone to conceal all the anime stickers hidden beneath. when idia noticed, he felt like passing out from excitement.

not all hope is lost for a good life, baby!

"is that freaking 'magical minnie☆chan(star not included in pronounciation)'?!"

cue the two of you squealing in excitement. "holy shiiiit, that anime was my childhood, i can't believe you know it!" you just couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

"duh, it's a classic. any anime fan worth their salt knows AND loves it. who do you think i am? a tasteless tourist?" idia leaned a little closer towards you, his hair emitting a healthy neon blue glow.

"of course not. i even carry a little keychain of minnie around for good luck." you placed the designer handbag your parents pushed onto you last minute onto the table, pulling out a little plush keychain of the aforementioned character. "i felt like i could use a bit of her star☆beam☆power today."

he shifted in his chair, studying you with his gaze "you know, i totally thought you were a normie when i first saw you."

"oh fuck, that means my parents' makeover worked, actually. they tried to make me look like 'a proper lady', or whatever... i look much more dissapointing usually, so don't get too used to it." you laughed a little, trying to make the self-deprecating comment sound a little less depressing.

"so do i. i can't believe mom made me put on this stupid suit. it's not like i'm gonna be wearing it in front of you every day." idia clicked his tongue, hooking one of his lanky fingers behind the collar of his suit and pulling on it as if it was suffocating him.

"with your face? get outta here." you raised an unbelieving eyebrow, shaking your head slightly.

"...what's that about my face?" idia didn't follow. not in the least.

"i'm saying you're... hot, or whatever." you immediately felt cringe after saying it out loud, clutching the edge of the fancy tablecloth with one hand and shoving food into your mouth with the other.

a strange noise escaped idia's throat, like a sentence suddenly deciding it doesn't want to be spoken out loud after all and slipping back down his larynx against his will.

a girl, a real, actual 3D, made of flesh and bones girl.... just called him hot. he needs a moment to remember how to function again, even if he doesn't exactly believe you. you're definitely just trying to make him feel better about the whole arranged marriage thing. definitely.

and it's definitely NOT getting to him right now. (ignore the shaking fingers as he picks at his food).

you noted the tips of his hair turning pink, finding it sort of cute how it matches the blush on his face. not that you have any room to talk, you're just as flustered as he is right now.

but then again, what's the harm in calling your future husband hot, anyway? you're gonna spend the rest of your life with him.

yeah, it's kinda like an otome game. call the character hot and watch him blush. you're good at that.

the silence soon becomes suffocating again, though, so you feel the need to speak up again despite your nerves eating at you after the accidental flirty comment.

"so, uhm, now that we've covered that base... i have to admit i don't actually know how to code very well. i mean, i've tried and failed making a videogame using SY-PHR before, but that's like, about it." you decided to change the topic to something that's arguably more important considering the impending marriage. though from the minuscule amount of information you got about STYX (which is that they do fancy tech stuff aside from the magic stuff) this might be an obsolete thing to mention.

after a few seconds of seemingly processing your words, he grinned at you widely, which prompted you to grumble out: "...what? don't laugh at me." it's like you always say the wrong thing when you aren't talking about your interests with him.

"no, no, it's just... i made that game engine when i was 7. what a callback." with a smug smile, idia propped up one elbow on the table (which is something your parents drilled into you to not do, but oh well, you could use some reprieve from dumb dining rules, so you'd rather your future husband doesn't give a damn about them either).

"...you're shitting me."

idia sighed internally. they've moved past that dastardly compliment that's no doubt gonna haunt his dreams for the next few days.

just how is he gonna kiss you on the wedding day if he can't even handle one compliment from you? (that is, if you were actually being honest and weren't just gassing him up (he is in extreme denial).)

wait... kiss you? he's sort of been through this before because of the whole ghost bride situation, but he was much less attracted to that lady and in much bigger mortal peril at the fact that if that marriage did come to pass he'd actually die.

"i... idia, are you okay?" you asked, worried about the way his hair was flickering widely.

"fine.... i'm fine." he assured.

(he wasn't.)

.

"idia, dear, it gets better, i pro-" idia's mom paused at the elated smile splaying itself on her son's face upon his return to STYX headquarters.

"... how come you're so happy?" her face twisted in disbelief. she even had a whole speech prepared for him, very sure he'd return home looking just as unhappy as he left. well, it is quite a nice surprise to see he isn't, so she won't complain.

"how could i not be? she's a kindred spirit, wheheheheeee. i won't be miserable!~♪" idia giggled happily, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt and finally feeling like he could breathe.

idia's parents exchanged a half happy half worried look.

"well, as long as you're happy, that's all that matters." idia's dad shook his head slightly, thinking about how his little boy is all grown up now.

"what's that supposed to mean?" idia looked at his parents askance but all he got in return was a suspiciously wide smile from each.

"...well then, did she say anything about how nice you look?" idia's mom interlaced her fingers innocently, not meaning much by asking that question.

the memory of you calling him hot echoed in his mind and that manifested in his face turning completely red and the flames of his hair flaring up and crackling widely for a moment.

that was answer enough for his parents.

"ummm... i gotta go... anddomydailiesbye!" idia quickly excused himself before he could be hit with any follow-up questions, retreating to his gamer lair (his room).

"hehehe, you used to make the same face when i complimented you back when we just started dating." idia's mom twirled a piece of her hair, smirking up at her husband.

"i did not." idia's dad huffed.

"oh, yes you did."

[ventique18]

MalleYuu series where he's a Fae King desperate to continue his bloodline, but he was cursed by a vengeful spirit a long time ago with being so undesirable that nobody will ever fall in love with him. You happened to be immune to that curse, so every episode is him coming up with plots to trick you into marrying him. But you keep outsmarting him.

"Your character landed on a marriage tile. That means you have to marry the closest player. Here, sign this contract."

"Didn't we make up aliases for our characters? Why are our real names on this contract?"

"Tsk."

Eventually, you do fall in love with him for real. But at the same time, he grows a heavy conscience and starts thinking it's evil of him to force you into something so precious like marriage.

The plot eventually grows into his schemes getting nicer and nicer-- like the payment for helping you out on a life-risking mission be a simple hug, until eventually it's about you trying to get him to trick you into marrying him instead.

[nyankochan]

Cuddling with the 1st Years Headcannons

☆Content: first years (-ortho) x gn!reader, fluff, established relationships

Cuddling with: 3rd years-here; 2nd years-here

w/c: 2.3K (average 400 words each)

ace trappola

Tries to act like this cool boyfriend when cuddling but is high key a dork who doesn’t know what he’s doing. He gets flustered easily and huffy when you tease him

Often falls asleep holding you instead of the other way around. He’s able to relax and be himself around you, no words are needed to reaffirm his love for you

Ace was annoyed.

And it all had to do with the fact that you were paying more attention to magicam than him. Like hello, your boyfriend was right in front of you. What did you need to be glued to your stupid phone for?

But Ace being Ace, he had way too much pride to admit that he was feeling needy and wanted your affection. So he comes across as blunt and dismissive towards the videos and funny posts you tried to show him. He might’ve unintentionally started to come across as an asshole, but he wasn’t trying to. Communication’s just unfortunately not his strong suit.

You however, eventually grow irritated with his attitude. It was killing your mood and the peaceful atmosphere you thought the two of you were having. “Ya know, if I’m bothering you so much, I’ll just leave,” you huffed.

“What?” Ace stammered. “Wait—no, I-“ but you ignore him, grab your throw blanket and storm out the room. Frustrated, he tugs at his hair with a groan. That totally didn’t go how he hoped, but then again, what did he truly expect? He knew he’d have to apologize. You would hold a serious grudge otherwise.

Swallowing his pride, Ace left your bedroom fully intending to make things right. Wandering through Ramshackle’s halls, he eventually found you in the living room curled up on the couch with your blanket. Your giggles filled his ears as you watched something on your phone. The sound made his chest flutter and guilt ate at him for how he’d been treating you.

Sighing, Ace slowly approached you. As expected, you were still mad, rolling over so that your back faced him instead. “I deserved that…look, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to come across like a jerk and hurt your feelings. I just…” he could feel his face warm in embarrassment as he muttered, “I just didn’t like that you weren’t paying any attention to me. Made me feel like I was third wheeling or something.”

You peek over your shoulder. The bashful look on your boyfriend’s face makes your heart melt. “Come here,” you sigh, scooting over on the couch to make as much room as you could under the small blanket. Nonetheless, Ace eagerly and quickly took the opportunity to cuddle up next to you, his head laying on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around you. The cramped couch was far too uncomfortable, and he didn’t even fit properly on it, but not once did he dare to complain.

“You’re such a dork,” you tease, running your fingers through his spiky hair.

“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

deuce spade

Doesn’t know what he’s doing #2, but he’s less panicky about it. Constant questions about your comfort and well being to which you have to reassure him that you’re fine

He tries hard to be a model student, but every once in a while, a confrontation may get him riled up and revert him back to his old ways. He finds that relaxing in your arms will calm him down almost instantly

Deuce returned from his run still angry, and he didn’t like the feeling. Usually, running cooled his head, but for some reason, the earlier confrontation he had with a group of students in another dorm left his mind racing and his emotions simmering.

Most importantly, he felt frustrated with himself. He was trying so hard to be better, to be that perfect model honor student. Yet it seemed like no matter how hard he tried to change, he kept falling back into old habits. And out of said habits, Deuce found himself walking to Ramshackle on muscle memory alone, not realizing he veered off path toward Heartslabyul to find you instead.

“Deuce? What are you doing here?”

Deuce snapped out of his daze, not even realizing that his fist was raised up mid-knock, you standing before him with the door open. You were clearly dressed for bed, and it instantly made him feel guilty for not realizing how late it was.

“I—sorry, um…” The tips of his ears began to burn red. You smiled and opened the door wider.

“Come on. Let’s have a movie night.”

As Deuce frequently stayed over Ramshackle, you let him keep some spare clothes and other belongings in one of the vacant rooms. While he showered off the sweat from his run, you set up the living room. Deuce returned to find you comically beating the top of the old TV to turn on. It flickered a few times dramatically before the screen came to life.

“Aha! Got it!” You cheer before popping the CD into the player and bouncing back to the couch. Deuce, ever awkward, sits on the opposite end of the couch which makes you laugh. “Come on! I don’t bite.”

“S-sorry.” Deuce scoots over, heat creeping across his face. You have to provide a little guidance, because he genuinely seems lost. You first spread the blanket across your laps. Then, you take Deuce’s arm and drape it across your shoulder, leaning into his embrace.

Deuce, hesitantly at first, pulls you closer to him. He could feel his heart begin to hammer against his chest, the casual intimacy of the affection making him nervous. “I-is this okay? You’re not uncomfortable are you? Should I-“

You cut him off with a laugh. “Deuce, relax. No need to get so worked up. Let’s just enjoy the movie and each other’s company.”

And eventually, he does, basking in your presence and slowly forgetting all about his earlier frustrations as he holds you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

jack howl

One of the best people to cuddle honestly. He’s a gentle giant whose warmth and fluffy tail make for the ideal cuddles. It’s nearly impossible not to fall asleep in his arms

His wolf instincts make him extremely protective, so sometimes he’s a bit guarded, always keeping a secure arm around you to ensure that you’re safe and sound

It was winter. Snow on the ground, coating the entire campus in a sea of beautiful white. Hence, it was very cold. The kind of cold that bites your fingers and toes and makes it impossible to get out of the bed, which you were currently hiding in trying impossibly to warm up.

“S-so cold…” your teeth chatter as you pull the blanket around your body tighter like a burrito. Of course, the stupid heater was broken until the next day when the maintenance could come to fix it. Until then, you had to make do with your pile of blankets and the body warmth of your beloved boyfriend who agreed to stay with you during the cold.

“Y/n~” Jack groaned as you nuzzled against him. “Please, it’s too hot,” he complained, trying to peel back some of the extra layers of blankets. “I’m going to get heat stroke at this rate.” He already tended to run warm to begin with, but combined with all the extra blankets, it was beginning to feel like a sauna.

“But you’re so warm…” you mumbled. His fluffy tail tickled your skin as it wagged from Jack trying to suppress his embarrassment at you pressing against him. Not only was it soft like your blankets, you could feel so much comforting warmth that it made you sleepy.

Jack sighed. “How about this?” He pried the blanket you had wrapped your body with away, much to your disappointment. The cold instantly nipping your arms making you shiver.

Just as fast, the cold is replaced by comforting warmth as Jack pulls you into his arms. Your head rests against his chest allowing you to hear the steady beat of his heart. His hold is secure around your waist, making your own heart flutter with giddiness.

Forget a blanket. This was 10 times—no—a hundred times better.

“Is this warmer?” Jack asks, his chest rumbling as he speaks. You feel him trace his hand up and down your back, making small, soothing circles.

“Mhm…” you nod and hide your face, sinking deeper into his embrace. “Much warmer.”

epel felmier

This man insits on being the big spoon. Doesn’t matter if you’re smaller than him or twice his size. He has it in his head and he has to take the lead

Gets all soft when he’s in a cuddly mood, especially if the day has been rough and he's really tired. Which just ends up frustrating him even more because it makes him look ten times cuter and you just have to hold him

You grumble annoyed as your alarm goes off, the ringtone blaring in your ears. Patting around blindly, you eventually find your phone and shut off the alarm, muting its noise. But, you only end up snoozing it, and not even a couple minutes later, the alarm begins again, this time, even more obnoxious.

Beside you, Epel groans as you nudge him to wake up. “Just five more minutes,” he mumbles, burying his face against your back, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The sheets tangled between your legs. He was always so difficult to wake up in the morning.

“We have class in an hour,” you yawn, trying and struggling to pry his arms away from you. You eventually manage to succeed, earning another groan from the male due to the loss of warmth. “If we’re late again, we’ll never hear the end of it from Vil.”

The last time the both of you overslept…let’s just say the Housewarden was not pleased about having to come find you guys. Since then, you’ve had to set multiple alarms, cause you had a habit of sleeping through them. And Epel was no better at waking up, much preferring to stay cuddled up in bed all morning until the last minute.

“Hm?” Epel mumbled. His eyes were still bleary with sleepiness. “I’ll get up in a minute…lay down with me.” And with that, he dozed back off to sleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. A soft smile donned your lips.

“Cute.”

“I ain’t cute…” Epel grumbled in his sleep before turning over and hugging his pillow.

Tiredly, you pull yourself out of bed and drag yourself to the bathroom across the hall. Half asleep, you splash your face with water to try to wake yourself up before beginning your usual routine of brushing your teeth and your skin care. Cleansing and moisturizing your skin. Wiping the dried drool off the corner of your mouth. Fixing your hair.

While in the midst of your routine, Epel trudges into the bathroom, dragging his feet and a blanket across the floor. He rests his forehead against your back, his bed head even more atrocious than it was five minutes ago.

“Are you finally awake, sleepyhead?” You tease.

“It’s too early,” he complains, letting out a yawn. His senses were still slightly disoriented from sleep, but as his vision clears and he fully wakes up, he catches your appearance in the mirror. A soft smile settles on Epel’s face as you hum softly, finishing up in the bathroom. Your skin quite literally glowing now that you’ve refreshed yourself. “So pretty,” Epel muttered.

It catches you off guard, bashfulness heating your face. “Hurry up and get ready,” you stammer. “If we’re late cause you’re dragging, I’m ratting on you to Vil.”

Epel lets out a laugh. “Fine. Fine.” But, for the rest of the morning, he’s distracted, secretly admiring you whenever he thinks you’re not looking.

sebek zigvolt

At first, genuinely think things like cuddling is nonsense. That it’s a distraction and opposes it at first. When he sees how important it is to you however, he finally relents

Man short circuits with cuddling. Like he’s so tense you think he’s gonna pass out. It takes a lot to get him to relax, because he’s trained to always be ready to respond to Malleus’s needs at any given moment

“Human! I have returned!” Sebek announces upon entering the dorm lounge, only to stop mid stride, mouth falling agape in disbelief.

“Oh! Sebek! Welcome back!” You cheerfully say as if you weren’t standing on top of a desk, hanging blankets from stacked tables across the couch to make a roof of some sorts. Matter of fact, the entire room has been overrun by blankets and pillows being stacked, hung, and folded with various other items used to support their display. Chairs. Books. Even a wardrobe.

“What in Sevens name you doing?” Sebek exclaims. “And get down before you fall and hurt yourself!” He rushes to your side, picking you up like a knight would royalty to carry you off the desk. You only laugh.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m making a blanket fort.”

“That much I could gather, but why?” Sebek sighs.

“It was Lilia’s idea,” you answer with the shrug of a shoulder. “He went off to find more pillows. Silver was helping but I think he fell asleep under that tent over there, so I had to get on the table because I couldn’t reach otherwise.”

“Although your explanation makes sense, I fail to see the logic behind this.” Sebek runs a hand through his hair, looking around the now messy dorm lounge. It would take forever to clean up. It would be unacceptable to leave the dorm in such a stare for Malleus to return to. His eyes widened. “Young master will—“

“Oh, Malleus?” You interrupt, propping up another pillow. “He was actually quite thrilled by the prospect, but a tad frustrated because the rule was no magic to aid with building. He’s with Lilia on the hunt for more blankets. Now come here and look inside! This is our section!”

You crawl under one of the spaces. Sebek sighs before following. The area included part of the couch cushions and stacks of pillows, several blankets draped over top for cover. Sebek assumed it would be tight, but it was actually quite spacious and rather cozy.

“The construction is rather impressive…” he admits begrudgingly. “How long has this taken?”

“Few hours but that’s beside the point!” You catch Sebek off guard when you cuddle up against him, wrapping your arms around his body like a koala. You giggle as he tenses up. “Now we got a private place to snuggle, since you don’t like PDA.”

“T-that’s not—t-this is…” His face turns red, but seeing as you don’t plan to let go, he relents. He pulls you closer as he mutters, “I guess this isn’t so bad…”

[solxamber]

Want You Back with: First Years (-Ortho)

Where they're still in love with you

Other parts: Housewardens ; Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

Ace Trappola

Plays it cool for about 3 days before it finally hits him that you’re actually serious about the break up.

Suddenly, your DMs are a crime scene—random blurry selfies, voice notes that start with “okay but hear me out,” and badly cropped memes he didn’t even make, he just stole from some 2014 Facebook page.

Shows up at your usual café “by coincidence” wearing sunglasses indoors and ordering the most complicated drink possible, just to prolong his stay and hope you’ll notice him. You do. You also notice that he’s drinking it like he regrets all his life choices.

Starts “accidentally” calling you instead of Deuce—except his excuses get progressively worse.

“Oh, wrong number, I was actually trying to order pizza.”

“Oh, wrong number, I was actually trying to call the police because my kitchen’s on fire but hey, while you’re here, wanna come over and save me?”

Tries to one-up himself with increasingly dramatic gestures:

Sends you a playlist titled please just unblock me so I can send better playlists.

Pretends to “bump into you” at the library even though you’ve never seen him in a library before in your life.

The grand finale comes when he recruits Deuce into some harebrained scheme to get your attention, which ends with both of them somehow locked out of their dorm room. He sends you a text: okay so hypothetically if a guy was freezing and had nowhere to go and maybe also really missed you—

You let him in. Mostly because you want to know how someone can cause this much chaos in less than a week.

Deuce Spade

Takes it way too personally, like you just accused him of masterminding a penguin heist. The first two days are pure sulk mode—text replies shrink to single words, he stops sending you TikToks, and every photo he posts on Magicam is just a moody shot of the sky with some vague caption like "yeah."

Even his mom calls to ask if he’s okay. He says yes, but immediately follows it up with a deep sigh and then “accidentally” sends you a picture of a raccoon staring mournfully into a puddle.

Starts showing up in places you frequent—library, café, training yard—but tries to make it seem accidental. The problem is, his “casual surprise” face looks more like someone just hit him with a brick.

The second he sees you, his whole plan falls apart and he blurts out, “Hey, funny seeing you here, I was just… uh… getting milk.” He has no milk. Not even a bag to put the hypothetical milk in.

When he hears a song that even remotely reminds him of you, he gets this distant, pained look in his eyes like he’s living through a music video. Ace catches him staring out the window during a rainy afternoon and has to physically shake him to snap him out of it.

Eventually, he tries to win you over by fixing something for you—your bike, your kettle, your dorm door hinge—but halfway through the repair, he breaks something else entirely and now owes you a new kettle, bike, and door hinge.

The lowest point? He sees you laughing with someone else and spends the rest of the day muttering about how that guy’s haircut isn’t even that good. That night, he texts you: “hope ur doing okay. also just saying u could do better than that guy.”

By day five, his desperation hits creative levels. When you don’t text back immediately, he panics and sends follow-up messages in rapid succession:

hey

nvm

unless you want to talk

sorry if this is weird

i made too much pasta do you want some

please take the pasta

He ends up outside your dorm holding a Tupperware of said pasta. It’s… suspiciously heavy. You open it to find an entire pound of spaghetti that he swears is “just a normal portion.” He stands there awkwardly as if you might invite him in.

You do invite him in, and he walks through the door like a soldier returning from war. In his head, this was the most epic victory arc of his life.

Jack Howl

Tells everyone he’s “focusing on training” now. Which is technically true, except the training has become suspiciously timed so that he’s always jogging past your dorm or doing push-ups in the exact spot where you tend to walk by. If you catch him at it, he pretends he didn’t even see you and just “happened to be in the area.”

Starts carrying way too many heavy things at once—like, full crates stacked higher than his head—just so he can “accidentally” run into you and insist on walking you back to your dorm while still holding them. He refuses help, saying it’s no trouble, even though you can see his arms shaking.

Keeps “forgetting” small items in places you’ll definitely find them. A hoodie on the back of your chair. A water bottle near your desk. A book on the windowsill. When you try to return them, he insists you should “hold on to it for now” and then looks awkwardly away like he didn’t plan it.

Talks less, but listens more. Anytime you say something—even in a group—his ears flick toward you and he stores it away like it’s valuable intel. If you mention craving a certain snack, somehow it appears the next day. He denies bringing it, but who else would?

Has this whole “protective from afar” thing going on. If someone bumps into you in the hall, Jack is suddenly there, glaring like he’s deciding whether to step in. If you’re carrying something heavy, he appears out of nowhere and takes it without asking. When you thank him, he mutters “it’s fine” and leaves before you can start a real conversation.

At some point, you catch him waiting outside your dorm at night, sitting on the steps with his arms around his knees like he’s just resting after a run. You ask what he’s doing there, and he insists he was “just passing through” even though there’s no reason to pass through that area at midnight. You invite him in anyway.

He hesitates for half a second, then walks in.

Epel Felmier

He swears he’s fine. Says it loud, says it often, says it in a way that makes you absolutely certain he’s not fine at all. Every time someone asks if he’s okay, he gets defensive and mutters something about “real men don’t mope.” Then he sulks so hard it’s basically competitive moping.

Tries to “subtly” show off around you—lifting heavy boxes, climbing trees, tossing apples in the air and catching them behind his back. Unfortunately, he misses one, gets smacked in the face, and spends the next five minutes pretending it didn’t hurt. You’re not fooled.

Starts dressing nicer, like Vil’s been giving him extra critiques, but then ruins the effect by glaring at every other guy who so much as breathes in your direction. If you catch him doing it, he immediately switches to pretending he was “just looking at the wall” like that’s somehow less suspicioous.

Keeps bringing you apples. Not in a sweet, here’s-a-gift way. More like he keeps “forgetting” that he already handed you one earlier that day. By the end of the week, you have a small mountain of apples in your dorm and he’s still acting like each one is the first.

Any time you’re in the same room, he talks twice as loud and uses twice as many long words, clearly trying to impress you. But if you talk directly to him, he stammers, turns red, and pretends he needs to “check on something” before fleeing.

You overhear him once in the courtyard telling someone, “I ain’t gonna beg,” then immediately following it with, “...unless they asked, then maybe I’d think about it.”

The breaking point comes when you see him “casually” leaning against the wall outside your dorm. He swears he was just on his way somewhere else, but he’s standing in the rain, hair plastered to his face, holding yet another apple. You take it. You also tell him to come inside before he catches a cold. He pretends it’s no big deal, but you catch his smile.

Sebek Zigvolt

Declares to anyone who will listen that the breakup has not impacted him in the slightest. Announces this with the same intensity as a town crier during an invasion. Then, without missing a beat, he’ll bark something like, “You know they always preferred the western gardens at dusk,” before realizing too late that he sounds like a diary entry.

Starts practicing speeches in the mirror about how he’s “too dedicated to Lord Malleus to dwell on such matters,” but half of them end up spiraling into rants about how “no one else could possibly understand them the way I did.” He still delivers these speeches to passersby if you’re within a 50-foot radius.

Goes on “patrols” around the campus that, entirely by coincidence, seem to orbit your usual routes. When confronted, he claims it’s to “deter villains.” The only “villain” spotted so far was a first-year who accidentally walked too close to you and got subjected to a five-minute lecture on personal boundaries.

Starts gifting you things in the most aggressively formal way possible: “This is not sentimentality—this is to protect you from the unrelenting forces of chaos.” Last week it was a weatherproof cloak. Yesterday it was an umbrella and instructions on proper rain safety. You suspect tomorrow might be a bulletproof vest.

Whenever he catches you talking to someone else, he doesn’t directly interfere. Instead, he plants himself in the background, standing ramrod straight, arms crossed, glaring like he’s guarding a royal. The second you laugh, he erupts into some grand declaration about the importance of composure.

At one point, you find him at your dorm door mid-thunderstorm, he hasn't knocked, he's just… standing there like a sentinel. He says he was “testing his endurance.” When you invite him inside, he refuses on principle—then stomps in anyway the moment lightning strikes, muttering something about “granting you peace of mind.”

When he finally works up the courage to ask if you might consider “allowing a cordial exchange of words over tea,” it’s so stiff and overly formal that you can’t help laughing and agreeing.

Masterlist