How to the rest of the dorms feel of Yuu going home?
[^made by me^]
thx for the question anon !!<3
heres everyone's reaction to Yuu going home !! i didn't know if you were talking about the housewardens or just EVERYONE. and since im bored i made everyone soooooo yeah ♡
~
Heartslabyul 🌹
Everyone insists they're "happy" for Yuu... but no one is taking it well.
Ace keeps making jokes because if he stops joking, he'll probably cry.
Deuce promises they'll meet again somehow, even if he has to become "the first honor student to invent dimension travel."
Cater scrolls through his camera roll and realize Yuu's in none of them. They had always been the one taking pictures.
Trey packs snacks for them, saying they'll probably miss Night Raven College food.
Riddle prepares a proper farewell tea party according to every rule in the Queen's regulations... but halfway through he pauses because he realizes this is goodbye.
Before Yuu leaves, Riddle thanks them sincerely.
"You changed more than just this dorm."
Ace ends up crying anyway btw.
Savanaclaw 💪
They all pretend it isn't a big deal.
It absolutely is.
Jack walks Yuu to the mirror in silence.
He eventually says:
"Come back if you can."
Ruggie grumbles about losing someone who always shared food, even tho its more than that.
He secretly slips lucky charms into Yuu's bag.
Leona acts like he's asleep during the farewell. He just wouldn't be able to let them go, wouldn't be able to say goodbye.
After Yuu leaves...
Leona asks,
"...They gone?"
When someone nods...
"...Tch."
He sleeps the rest of the day, and the days following.
No one mentions his ears were down.
Octavinelle 🐚
Azul immediately begins researching ways to reopen dimensional travel, totally for business reasons. I mean, if Yuu's world were to be accessible, he'd get more customers....That's all he cares about...Totally.
Floyd dramatically clings to Yuu.
"Shriiimppppy! You can't leave!"
Jade smiles politely.
His eyes absolutely are not smiling.
Azul actually tears up while trying very hard not to.
He gives Yuu one final contract.
The contract simply says:
"Should our worlds ever reconnect, you are guaranteed lifelong hospitality at the Mostro Lounge."
Not a single shady outcome, just friendship.
Scarabia ☀️
Kalim throws a goodbye celebration that somehow includes half the school.
Nobody has fun.
Everyone is crying.
Kalim hugs Yuu about fifty times.
Jamil helps pack everything neatly.
When no one's looking...
Jamil quietly says,
"Take care of yourself."
It's probably the softest thing anyone's ever heard him say.
Kalim cries so much Yuu almost misses the portal because they're comforting him.
Pomefiore 👑
Vil insists Yuu leave looking perfect.
New outfit.
Hair fixed.
No arguments.
Stuff everyone could've offered them long ago, but they've all abused of their kindness instead without returning the ounce of kindness.
"Your first impression back home matters."
Rook somehow turns the farewell into poetry.
He's crying while complimenting the beauty of fleeting encounters.
Epel keeps trying not to cry.
Fails immediately, he cries out ugly, Vil can't even scold him.
After Yuu disappears..
Vil waits until everyone leaves before allowing himself one quiet moment to grieve.
Ignihyde 💀
Idia prepared for this, emotionally AND mentally. He's watched animes !
He still blue screens.
Ortho gives Yuu a tiny device.
"It won't work in another universe... but maybe it'll remind you of us."
Idia refuses to attend the farewell.
When Yuu reaches the mirror...
A message suddenly appears on their phone.
"GG, Prefect. Thanks for clearing this impossible game.
Hope your next world has better tutorials."
Diasomnia 🐉
Nobody takes it well, especially not Malleus.
Sebek loudly declares Yuu deserves a royal sendoff.
Silver quietly gives Yuu a flower some animals brought him.
Lilia smiles the whole time.
Which somehow makes it hurt even more.
Malleus asks:
"...Must you go?"
Yuu explains they have family waiting, a home.
A place they haven't seen in so long.
Malleus understands.
He just doesn't like it.
Before Yuu steps through...
He gently takes their hand.
"You gave me a place in your story.
...Thank you."
It's the first time everyone hears genuine loneliness in the future king's voice.
Ramshackle 👻
Grim refuses to believe it's happening.
"We'll just find another way! Henchhuman isn't leaving!"
Until the portal in the mirror actually opens.
Then reality hits.
He tackles Yuu into the biggest hug imaginable.
"You're my henchhuman!"
"Who's gonna yell at me now?!"
"Who's gonna buy me tuna?!"
Yuu promises they'll never forget him as Grim sobs.
I saw the fic of Yuu going home and it was so good!
Imma leave this here. What if Yuu forgot all of their memories about the twisted wonderland the moment they step inside the mirror? As in wiped out. Then Yuu comes back with no memories but they're still keeping the gifts like charm, bracelet, etc they received from them because they can't let go of it for some reason. Like "The mind can forget but the heart can't."
The Mind Can Forget, But the Heart Can't
a/n: I'm glad you liked the previous fic!!! this is an INCREDIBLE idea!!!!!! (I cried too Writing this if anyone cares.)
So I just re-read what i wrote rq and just realized i have misunderstood the request, i heavily apologize !!!!! i hope its still to your liking...Sorry this took a while, lets say I'm just like Floyd haha !!
The Mirror of Darkness had never been so bright; it's silver surface shimmered like liquid starlight, swallowing the walls of the chamber until nothing remained except the glow and the people gathered before it.
No one spoke, no one wanted to be the first as Yuu looked at each of them one last time.
Ace stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, chewing the inside of his cheek to stop it from trembling.
Deuce kept blinking rapidly to prevent the tears from falling.
Cater couldn't even put on his usual fake cheery smile.
Not even Trey couldn't manage a reassuring smile.
Riddle stepped forward first.
"...Prefect." he held out a neatly wrapped box. "I thought... it would be improper to let a guest leave without a proper farewell gift."
"Thank you." Yuu accepted it with shaking hands.
One by one, they all came forward.
Jack tied a braided leather cord around Yuu's wrist.
"It's like a lucky charm."
Ruggie scratched the back of his neck.
"Don't lose it."
Leona didn't come any closer, he merely tossed something through the air. Yuu caught it.
It was a polished lion's fang hung from a simple chain.
"...Keep it." that was all he said.
---
Azul adjusted his glasses three times before speaking.
"There are... no contracts attached."
Inside the velvet box rested elegant seashell cufflinks.
"They don't have to match anything you wear..."
For once, Azul wasn't trying to gain anything.
---
Kalim nearly tackled Yuu into a hug.
"I had everyone make something!"
"I narrowed it down." Jamil sighed, he handed over a tiny gold scarab charm.
"It travels well...Unlike all of this."
He gestured toward the mountain of gifts Kalim had wanted Yuu to take.
---
Vil adjusted Yuu's collar one last time.
"There. You'll represent us properly."
"I don't even remember agreeing to represent anyone."
"No, but you simply always did." Vil smiled.
Epel shoved a carefully folded violet ribbon into Yuu's hands before quickly looking away.
"If you don't like it, don't tell me. I already know it's embarrassing."
"It's not embarrassing..It's beautiful."
---
"I made you something!" Ortho bounced happily as he presented a tiny mechanical keychain.
"When you press this-" It projected a miniature constellation"It's... kinda lame." Idia muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's amazing."
"...Oh." His ears, along with the end of his hair, turned pink.
---
Finally...Diasomnia.
Silver handed Yuu a pressed white flower.
"I wanted you to have something that wouldn't fade quickly."
Sebek loudly insisted it was an honor worthy of legends.
"I wonder if fate enjoys reunions as much as it enjoys farewells." Lilia merely smiled.
Then...Malleus approached. In his hands rested a tiny stone gargoyle. No larger than Yuu's palm.
"It resembles one near Ramshackle."
"So I'll remember this home..." Yuu smiled sadly.
"...Yes." His voice became almost too quiet to hear. "So you remember home."
---
Crowley cleared his throat.
"The portal is ready."
Nobody moved as the silence stretched painfully.
Until Grim grabbed Yuu.
"No." His claws clung desperately to their jacket. "You promised!"
"I know." Yuu wrapped both arms around him.
"I don't wanna be the Great Grim without my henchhuman."
"I know..."
"You can't go!"
"...I have to." Yuu buried their face into his fur.
Grim cried so hard his words became impossible to understand.
---
Eventually...Yuu stepped one foot toward the mirror, then another. They didn't turn back, they knew they'd hesitate even more, they didn't want to gamble.
Everyone watched as the light grew brighter, stronger. Almost blinding.
A sharp crack echoed through the chamber, The Mirror of Darkness shuddered. Its voice, ancient and calm, rang through the room.
"One born beyond this world may return."
Everyone smiled.
"But no soul may carry the memories of Twisted Wonderland beyond its borders."
The smiles disappeared.
"...What?" Crowley's head snapped upward. "What did you say?"
"Such is the balance between worlds."
"...Memories?" Yuu's heartbeat stopped for a second.
"No." Ace took a step forward. "No, no, no—"
"Upon crossing..." The mirror continued. "All memories shall be surrendered."
Grim looked between the mirror and Yuu. "...What?"
---
"There has to be another way!"
Idia already had dozens of floating screens surrounding him.
"There has to be, there always is!"
But there was nothing. Every calculation ended the same; just like those months spent looking for a way home, what Yuu had once thought was...IMPOSSIBLE.
---
Kalim looked ready to cry again.
"So...They won't know us?"
"...No, we'll only be a mere dream." Silver lowered his eyes.
---
"Henchhuman..." Grim's tiny body trembled.
Yuu knelt, they cupped Grim's face.
"I need you to listen."
"No, you need to remember. You promised!"
"I know, Im sorry.." Tears streamed down Yuu's face.
---
Ace suddenly grabbed Yuu's shoulders.
"So write it down!"
"Huh?"
"Write everything! You'll read it back home!"
Hope sparked through the room. Immediately...
Azul pulled out his mini notebook and ripped a page and Jade offered his pen.
Everyone began writing;
Names, birthdays, memories, inside jokes. Everything they considered important.
Yuu clutched the stack against their chest.
"I won't lose these."
---
The moment Yuu crossed the threshold, the page burst into silver flames. Every word disappeared, the blank paper fluttered to the floor.
Ace watched the page drift down.
"...No..."
---
The gifts remained, only the memories were taken.
Yuu looked back one last time, changing their mind, deciding looking back is worth it.
"I'll..." Their eyes were already unfocused. "...Who are..."
Before Yuu could become more confused, the light swallowed them whole.
Yuu woke up in bed, their own bed. A soft matress supporting their back, a comfortable pillow underneath their head.
Sunlight filtered through the familiar curtains, curtains that aren't ripped.
A voice shouted from right next to them, "You're awake!"
Their parent's voice. Yuu frowned at it.
"...Was I asleep?" apparently, for much longer than anyone could explain.
---
Their life resumed, school, friends and family. What they always had, it was the ordinary.
Except, sometimes Yuu would catch themselves laughing before realizing nothing had happened. Or instinctively reaching for someone walking beside them, only to find empty air.
---
One rainy afternoon, while unpacking boxes from storage...They discovered a weathered wooden case.
"...What's this?"
Inside rested objects they didn't recognize;
-A bracelet
-A lion's fang.
-A violet ribbon.
-A stone gargoyle.
-A scarab.
-An odd robotic keychain.
-A deck card with tiny hearts in one corner.
"...Huh."
None of it looked familiar. Yet, the moment Yuu picked up the bracelet, warmth spread through their chest. It wasn't magical, magic doesn't exist after all. Just comforting.
---
They should throw them away or sell them, shouldn't they? Its just a bunch of random junk, objects from... somewhere.
Instead Yuu carefully cleaned each one. They bought a small shelf and decided to display them neatly.
Without understanding why.
---
Months passed and every morning, before leaving the house...Yuu unconsciously touched the bracelet.
At every exam, the clover charm sat in their pocket.
Whenever they were afraid, their fingers found the lion's fang.
The little gargoyle watched over their desk.
The ribbon was tied around the handle of an old journal.
The strange robotic keychain never worked.
Still, Yuu changed its batteries every year, just in case.
Far away, beyond mirrors and beyond worlds...Grim sat on Ramshackle's porch. He quietly placed a tuna can beside the front door.
"...Happy birthday..." his ears drooped. "I know you ain't coming anymore..."
Malleus found him there after sunset.
"You still do this every year."
"What if one day..." Grim sniffled. "...they remember?"
"Perhaps." Malleus looked toward the stars. "The mind is fragile, but in their heart...Yuu holds remarkable memories."
That same night, in another world. Yuu awoke from a dream.
Their cheeks were wet.
"...Why am I crying?" they didn't remember any nightmare, nor any sadness they could've felt before falling asleep.
Only the overwhelming feeling that someone had just smiled at them and said goodbye.
They sat up slowly, without thinking. Their hand reached for the old bracelet on the nightstand.
The moment their fingers brushed the worn leather, the ache in their chest eased. Yuu smiled through tears they couldn't explain.
Across worlds, beneath the same stars, Grim suddenly looked up from Ramshackle's porch.
For no reason he could name, the night felt a little less lonely.
And though neither of them remembered the same story anymore;
Somewhere beyond magic, beyond mirrors and beyond memory itself...
Kalim couldn’t remember the last time you truly smiled. It was just one devastating morning when life felt too dull to be true. You cried for a long time, and Kalim could only try and comfort you. Like any normal human being, he wanted to know why. Why you cried, why his love and joy was so upset.
You told him nothing, just waved off his questions like there was nothing wrong. But from that day forward, you never seemed to be the same. Sure, you smiled, you laughed, you acted like nothing was different, but behind the facade was someone else, someone broken, someone who choked back tears every night. And Kalim, as oblivious as he usually was, saw it all.
You were his lover, his partner, his one and only, so why wouldn’t you confide him?
It got so bad, to the point where you stopped coming over to Scarabia and attending less and less classes, and soon enough, you didn’t even step outside at all. Kalim wanted to help you. He really did, but if you didn’t open up those doors, how could he?
He asked everybody about you. Do you know what happened? Have you seen them at all? But nobody knew, not even Grim.
Eventually, Kalim stopped trying to figure out the cause. After all, it only seemed to make things worse whenever he brought it up. Though that didn’t stop him from checking up on you. He left flowers by your doorstep, your favorite foods, things you used to love. He kept doing it, over and over again, even when you decided to break up with him, telling him you were a waste of his time, that he should just move on because you were a lost cause and… more stuff Kalim didn’t want to remember.
Still, he kept going.
Whenever someone asked why he would just say, “I just wanna see Y/N smile again! I wanna make them happy!”
You were grateful. It was just… really hard to show it.
As time passed rumors about you spread, and it only seemed to make you fall deeper into that hole you'd created. Before you knew it, you were standing at the edge of a roof top, wind brushing past your tear-streaked face. With a purposeful step, you fell backwards. Finally, you’d be free of that burden!
Or not…
It was just so sudden. That hand that shot out of nowhere grabbing your arm and pulling you back. Time almost felt too slow as you saw that familiar face.
Kalim?
“Keep living, okay?” He smiled joyfully, helping you back to sturdy ground.
Kalim was aware that maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea to save someone who wanted to die, but you could be his friend, an acquaintance, an enemy, anything as long as you kept living. Do it for him!
A selfish request all for what? All because deep down he knew that his world, this world- wouldn’t be complete without you.
Every time you tried to leave he was always there, and every time he brought you back you resented him even more.
“Keep living, Y/N!”
“Keep living!”
“Live for me… please.”
He didn’t care if you resented him. He’d wait for eternity just to feel your love again, just to see your genuine smile one more time.
If only Kalim had an eternity, if only.
But no matter the sum of money, an eternity cannot be bought, nor can true love.
And all it took was one fateless day for that hate to slip out of your hand and kill him.
The knife meant to erase you erased him instead. The blood that spewed out was his, not yours. The eyes that were meant to close stayed open, and the smile that shouldn't have existed lingered for a little bit longer.
Using his last ounce of strength, Kalim pressed a kiss to your forehead, his breath smelled faintly of blood. He'd never figured out the cause, never known if you'd stay alive, but he saw a genuine smile though full of hate, the light in your eyes before you stabbed him... it was still a smile nonetheless. It was still a spark... and he couldn't have asked for more.
⤷ You get them a gift, thing is this gift reminded you of them!
featuring the HOUSEWARDENS
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
“this..? hedgehog…” he mumbles, albeit confused. Riddle holds the small keychain in his hands and it stares right back up at him. “how so..? i’m not a hedgehog.”
you laugh, before pointing down at the little keychain, “its cute like you.”
Riddle flusters before holding the hedgehog closer to his chest, “i see… thank you,” he mumbles. It isn’t long before riddle puts it in his bag. He won’t put it on his bag in fear of it getting dirty, but the little hedgehog friend will be following him everywhere!
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
“a lion? how creative.” he lets out a sarcastic huff, but he clutches it in his hand. Despite his disheartening response, he has a small genuine smile on his face when he attaches the tiny plush lion to his belt hip.
“do you like it?”
“yeah its fine.” he says honestly. When he says fine he means he must like it, as it becomes rare to see the prince without his derpy lion companion. (you say it reminds you of him, yet he cant help but be reminded of you whenever he sees it.)
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Azul didn’t know whether he should be offended or awed when you tell him this octopus trinket reminds you of him, and he hesitantly makes that question known.
“A very good thing, you’re very cute!”
“Ah.” he voices, ducking his head down to stare at the trinket in his hands, he holds it gently and you can faintly see his neck radiate color. “Thank you then.”
Everytime you now see Azul in his office, the little octopus trinket is there too!
KALIM AL ASIM
A soft, cute looking otter plushie is clutched tightly against his chest, above is a radiant smile so full of unadulterated joy.
“Thank you!!! It’s perfect!!” he thrills, holding the little guy up into his line of sight, “you think i’m this cute?”
“absolutely!”
He got you a matching plushie for you to keep, one that reminds him of you!
VIL SCHOENHEIT
“how cute, and this reminds you of me?” he inspects with a soft smile, holding up a beautiful peacock charm. It was well crafted (and admittedly a bit over budget),
“Yes, I saw it in Sam’s store and thought of you.”
“I am honoured.”
Vil puts the charm on his purse, and cleans it from dirt every time he gets back from an outing. Seeing it fills his heart with warmth, he’s quite a fan of considerate gifts.
IDIA SHROUD
“I knew you liked this type of stuff so I got you it.”
Idia stares at the figurine in his hands, it’s one of his favorite character from some niche manga he loves. “You remembered..?”
“Of course, I can’t see content from this series without thinking of you.” you laugh shyly. Idia stays still, and you can slowly… see the clockwork in his head as he hides his face with the figurine box. “Thanks I guess…”
Next time Idia lets you into his room you can’t help but notice the figurine proudly displayed next to his manga stack on the shelf.
MALLEUS DRACONIA
A little lizard tamagotchi lays in Malleus’ hands. Its cute, he watches it wander around in its little room and Malleus feels overwhelmed with softness.
“You got me this..?”
“Yeah! I know you already had one, but this one reminds me of you. Lizards and all.”
“…Thank you dearest.”
He carries it everywhere, and constantly updates you on it. It may have been a gift for him, but truly you just made yourself a parent to the mini mal.
Gn!Reader, reader is not Yuu; possible OOС; hcs; kissing; the scene is interrupted by strangers; a hint of the future; a hint of an established relationship;
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.
Riddle
Riddle’s private office. They were supposed to be reviewing reports, but you made Riddle get distracted. The strict and perfect prefect loses all his haughtiness: his cheeks are burning, but he grabs your tie and pulls you into a surprisingly commanding and deep kiss, proving that he’s in charge here, despite his height.
“This is a violation of every possible rule… but I think I can turn a blind eye for a few minutes… Look only at me…”
“Rule 53… no! I’m the housewarden, I should behave flawlessly, but why do all these boundaries simply fall apart with you? Your lips are so soft… I want to remember this moment, I want you to look only at me and not dare think about anyone else in this college.”
The door opens, Trey enters with a tea tray. He freezes on the threshold, sighs, sets the tray down on the nearest side table, carefully adjusts his glasses, and says: “I’ll come back in five minutes. And, Riddle… don’t forget to fix your collar, we have a tea party in half an hour.”
Riddle instantly jumps back, blushing to the tips of his ears, and starts shouting at Trey hysterically, hiding his wild embarrassment behind his usual hot‑headedness.
The outburst of anger at Trey is obviously just an attempt to hide his extreme shame. Inside, Riddle is burning: his heart is pounding as if he’s run a marathon, and his thoughts are jumbled. He’s terrified of looking unserious or stupid, but at the same time, deep down, he’s angry at Trey for ruining that second of pure, genuine happiness.
Leona
Leona’s cherished shady spot in the botanical garden. Leona pulls you down onto the grass, looming over you. His kisses are lazy but incredibly greedy and hot, he growls right into your lips and threads his fingers through your hair, completely trapping you with his long legs.
“Stubborn potion… think you can just come to my spot and not pay the price? Forget about lessons. You’ll stay with me until I say otherwise.”
“There you go again with your tenderness… But since you came into the lion’s mouth yourself — don’t complain. I’m too lazy to play romance, but I can’t let you go anymore. You belong to me here and now, and that scent… it completely clouds my mind.”
Ruggie emerges from the bushes with a huge armful of food boxes. “Shishishi! Leona-san, I got you everything you asked for… Oh. You could at least put up a ‘Do Not Disturb, Hunting in Progress’ sign. By the way, since I interrupted you, I’ll take a silence fee!”
Leona doesn’t even pull back immediately — he just bares his teeth in irritation and throws a small stone that was within reach at Ruggie, muttering for him to get lost if he doesn’t want to become a doormat.
Ruggie’s appearance doesn’t embarrass Leona — it just annoys him pure and simple. He despises anyone intruding on his personal territory. The stone thrown at the hyena is only a small part of his irritation; Leona feels somewhat slighted because his “prey” was scared away right in front of him, and now he’ll have to find another excuse to be alone.
Azul
Azul’s private office after the Mostro Lounge closes. Azul carefully presses you against his desk, sweeping some important papers onto the floor. Without his glasses, his gaze is frighteningly intimate. Azul’s kisses are desperate, passionate, with an almost vulnerable greed — he gives away all his control.
“I calculated everything, but I can’t calculate you… This isn’t profitable, it’s stupid! But right now.. Tell me you need me. Let me take all of your attention.”
“This is completely irrational! There’s no commercial benefit in this at all! So why can’t I pull away? Your hands on my shoulders… it’s more intoxicating than any magic potion… just let me feel that I’m needed by someone for real.”
The door opens quietly, and Jade appears on the threshold with a flawless document holder. He instantly assesses the situation, his smile growing even wider. “Oh my, oh my, Azul. I knew you were working hard on new proposals, but I didn’t think the negotiations would go… this far. Do continue, I’ll just leave the cleaning bills here.”
Azul instantly fumbles for his glasses, drops his pen, his face burning. He tries to regain his business tone, but his voice cracks into a falsetto as he attempts to make excuses to the smiling Jade.
When Jade ruins the moment with his perfectly polite smirk, Azul experiences a real emotional collapse (?). His carefully constructed image of a “successful businessman” crumbles in a second. He feels naked and vulnerable, and his brain panickedly tries to calculate how to make Jade keep quiet and not die of shame himself.
Kalim
Scarabia balcony under the starry sky. Kalim is sincere and impulsive: he simply wraps his arms around your neck and kisses you with pure, ringing tenderness and open passion that takes your breath away. All his gold and jewellery jingles softly in time with his movements. I think he’s the only one who doesn’t do it roughly.
“I’m so happy! I want to give you everything I have - this whole palace, all the treasures! But most of all I just want to be with you like this. Please, smile at me again!”
“This is so great! It literally takes my breath away! I want to give you this whole world, I want us to dance, laugh, and kiss for an eternity! Your warmth is the best treasure in all of Scarabia, I’ll never let it go!”
Jamil walks silently down the corridor with a tray of sherbet. He stops, silently watches the scene for a few seconds. His eye literally twitches at the thought of potential danger/scandal. “Kalim… I told you not to hug guests at the edge of the balcony. You could both fall. And anyway… off to bed, now!”
Kalim laughs cheerfully, not at all embarrassed, but he feels his face heating up slightly, and he pulls Jamil to join them in stargazing while you try not to burn up from shame. (Jamil declines, thank you. He, unfortunately, has already seen where your “stargazing” leads.)
Kalim doesn’t feel any negativity or shame when Jamil bursts in. His heart is simply overflowing with tenderness. The only thing he regrets is that the moment ended so quickly. He genuinely sparkles with energy and immediately switches to the idea of throwing a huge evening just for the two of them (or three) in celebration.
Vil
Vil’s dressing room in front of a lighted mirror. Vil holds your chin with his impeccably manicured fingers. His kisses are a mix of exquisite art and wild, all-consuming flame. He appraises, directs, but gradually he almost loses his head himself, pressing you into the velvet chair.
“You are imperfect, your movements are awkward… but why do you make my heart beat so un-aesthetically fast? Don’t you dare look away. I will make this moment perfect for both of us.”
“Your gaze… there’s no falseness in it. It’s a beautiful imperfection… Your lips respond to mine, and I want to bring this script to perfection.”
The door silently opens and Rook Hunt enters, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest. “OH! TRÈS BIEN! What an impromptu! What passion! Vil, your profile in this light is simply divine, and our little potato bud’s embarrassment is a true masterpiece!” (and he pulls out a camera lmao).
Vil instantly pulls back, maintaining his royal posture, though his cheeks are slightly flushed. He snaps at Rook: “Rook! Put the camera down, or I’ll make you wash the entire costume department!” Meanwhile, you turn to the mirror and see that all of his lipstick is now smeared across your lips and chin. Oh!
Rook’s arrival with his lens instantly brings back Vil’s protective “queen” mask. He’s annoyed not so much at being caught, but that someone dared to intrude on his personal, hidden-from-the-public “masterpiece.” But deep down, Vil is still pleased: he knows he looked flawless, though he secretly dreams of punishing (a little gently) Rook for ruining the climax.
Idia
Idia’s dark room, lit only by monitors. Idia is a panicking geek, but when you make the first move, Idia breaks down. He presses you back into the gaming chair, his blue flame hair flaring bright pink, and his kisses are unexpectedly hot and desperate.
“I-is this a real romantic event?! I’m not levelled up! Damn, damn, their lips are so soft… My pulse is off the charts, I’m at like 99% load right now! Please let this title never end!”
“SYSTEM ERROR! Sevens-Sevens-Sevens is this happening in reality?! Not in a simulator?! They’re so close, so warm… If I mess up now, I’ll embarrass myself across the whole internet! But… I don’t want to close my eyes. This is the best route in my life, please don’t let the FPS drop!”
Ortho’s eyes light up as he flies closer. “Idia! According to my sensors, your body temperature has risen to 37.3°C, and your pulse is critical! Are you conducting a biological microflora exchange? Should I summon a medical drone?!”
Ortho’s concern and his medical sensors turn Idia into a puddle of panic. He feels like his secret [REDACTED] screenshot has been displayed on the main college screen. His heart is pounding on the verge of arrhythmia, and only one thought is spinning in his head: bury himself under the blanket and not come out until at least next semester.
Malleus
An abandoned castle tower. Magical green flames swirl around them. Malleus is ancient and powerful, his presence is overwhelming, but his kisses are surprisingly tender, though carrying a terrible strength. He carefully holds you by the waist, as if afraid of breaking a precious porcelain doll.
“Child of human… you are not afraid of me. You are so close. Your warmth fuels my magic better than any spell. I will not give you up to time or to this world.”
“You are fragile as a petal, your heart beats so fast… But you do not run away. You clutch my clothes and answer my kiss. This feeling… it is stronger than any ancient magic. I want to protect this warmth from the whole world, from time itself.”
From the shadow on the ceiling, Lilia drops down headfirst. “Oho-ho! Malleus, I was looking for you to discuss… oh. My apologies! Do go on, don’t mind an old man. I’ll just hang here!”
Malleus takes a deep breath, covering you with the folds of his cloak to hide you from Lilia’s mischievous gaze, and says sternly: “Lilia… please, observe at least some decency.”
When Lilia unceremoniously hangs around nearby, Malleus feels the quiet annoyance of an ancient being whose grandeur has been slightly shaken. There is no wild explosion of emotion — rather a mature, deep desire to hide his “treasure” from prying eyes. Under the cover of his cloak, he squeezes your hand tighter, giving a silent promise to continue later.
The characters do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners, please do not edit, translate, repost my works on other platforms, also without my permission and @
How to the rest of the dorms feel of Yuu going home?
[^made by me^]
thx for the question anon !!<3
heres everyone's reaction to Yuu going home !! i didn't know if you were talking about the housewardens or just EVERYONE. and since im bored i made everyone soooooo yeah ♡
~
Heartslabyul 🌹
Everyone insists they're "happy" for Yuu... but no one is taking it well.
Ace keeps making jokes because if he stops joking, he'll probably cry.
Deuce promises they'll meet again somehow, even if he has to become "the first honor student to invent dimension travel."
Cater scrolls through his camera roll and realize Yuu's in none of them. They had always been the one taking pictures.
Trey packs snacks for them, saying they'll probably miss Night Raven College food.
Riddle prepares a proper farewell tea party according to every rule in the Queen's regulations... but halfway through he pauses because he realizes this is goodbye.
Before Yuu leaves, Riddle thanks them sincerely.
"You changed more than just this dorm."
Ace ends up crying anyway btw.
Savanaclaw 💪
They all pretend it isn't a big deal.
It absolutely is.
Jack walks Yuu to the mirror in silence.
He eventually says:
"Come back if you can."
Ruggie grumbles about losing someone who always shared food, even tho its more than that.
He secretly slips lucky charms into Yuu's bag.
Leona acts like he's asleep during the farewell. He just wouldn't be able to let them go, wouldn't be able to say goodbye.
After Yuu leaves...
Leona asks,
"...They gone?"
When someone nods...
"...Tch."
He sleeps the rest of the day, and the days following.
No one mentions his ears were down.
Octavinelle 🐚
Azul immediately begins researching ways to reopen dimensional travel, totally for business reasons. I mean, if Yuu's world were to be accessible, he'd get more customers....That's all he cares about...Totally.
Floyd dramatically clings to Yuu.
"Shriiimppppy! You can't leave!"
Jade smiles politely.
His eyes absolutely are not smiling.
Azul actually tears up while trying very hard not to.
He gives Yuu one final contract.
The contract simply says:
"Should our worlds ever reconnect, you are guaranteed lifelong hospitality at the Mostro Lounge."
Not a single shady outcome, just friendship.
Scarabia ☀️
Kalim throws a goodbye celebration that somehow includes half the school.
Nobody has fun.
Everyone is crying.
Kalim hugs Yuu about fifty times.
Jamil helps pack everything neatly.
When no one's looking...
Jamil quietly says,
"Take care of yourself."
It's probably the softest thing anyone's ever heard him say.
Kalim cries so much Yuu almost misses the portal because they're comforting him.
Pomefiore 👑
Vil insists Yuu leave looking perfect.
New outfit.
Hair fixed.
No arguments.
Stuff everyone could've offered them long ago, but they've all abused of their kindness instead without returning the ounce of kindness.
"Your first impression back home matters."
Rook somehow turns the farewell into poetry.
He's crying while complimenting the beauty of fleeting encounters.
Epel keeps trying not to cry.
Fails immediately, he cries out ugly, Vil can't even scold him.
After Yuu disappears..
Vil waits until everyone leaves before allowing himself one quiet moment to grieve.
Ignihyde 💀
Idia prepared for this, emotionally AND mentally. He's watched animes !
He still blue screens.
Ortho gives Yuu a tiny device.
"It won't work in another universe... but maybe it'll remind you of us."
Idia refuses to attend the farewell.
When Yuu reaches the mirror...
A message suddenly appears on their phone.
"GG, Prefect. Thanks for clearing this impossible game.
Hope your next world has better tutorials."
Diasomnia 🐉
Nobody takes it well, especially not Malleus.
Sebek loudly declares Yuu deserves a royal sendoff.
Silver quietly gives Yuu a flower some animals brought him.
Lilia smiles the whole time.
Which somehow makes it hurt even more.
Malleus asks:
"...Must you go?"
Yuu explains they have family waiting, a home.
A place they haven't seen in so long.
Malleus understands.
He just doesn't like it.
Before Yuu steps through...
He gently takes their hand.
"You gave me a place in your story.
...Thank you."
It's the first time everyone hears genuine loneliness in the future king's voice.
Ramshackle 👻
Grim refuses to believe it's happening.
"We'll just find another way! Henchhuman isn't leaving!"
Until the portal in the mirror actually opens.
Then reality hits.
He tackles Yuu into the biggest hug imaginable.
"You're my henchhuman!"
"Who's gonna yell at me now?!"
"Who's gonna buy me tuna?!"
Yuu promises they'll never forget him as Grim sobs.
Last winter, after reading Leona's dream, I wanted Baymax to play the therapist for him cause his line broke my heart... I drew other stuff but didn't finish them back them.
Now that Baymax event is coming, it was the opportunity to finish them :3.
(Working on Leona's birthday, so I'm gonna answer you guys next month :x)
Context: Being a decent person is quite a rare thing in NRC and many of the students there wanted to have some time with you, but your inner circle of friends won't let that slide at all. Here are some of their reaction to someone bothering their time with you.
Other dorms: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia
Jack 🌵
Ruggie 🍩
Leona 🍖
Hehehehehe I hope you all like this one too! Please keep leaving funny comments! Rosie, even if she didn't answer, it's a VERY fun time to read comments or re-blog comments
Y’all know how the whole ‘scent’ thing is used in fics? Mainly Savanaclaw but also for the ones with keen senses - like Vil, for example. Also the octo-trio. Grim too.
Honestly anyone could fit this. Smell’s a keen sense. Like how we can catch a wif of something and get sent back to a memory stuck in the vault.
Yeah so…we’re in consensus that they’d hoard the prefect’s perfume like it’s a lifeline? After they go home? Saw an animation where Ace kept their phone so he could call it and hear their voicemail. Now we’re here.
-
Riddle - who couldn’t bring himself to pilfer from your abandoned dorm and dislikes that he seriously considered it. Too nervous to ask what scent you wore but forever associates it with evenings in the library. Catching it on your wrist whenever you’d hand him a book. Mixed with the smell of old books and burning wax.
Trey - who borrowed one of your ties and decided not to return it. Not unless you asked. You didn’t. The scent’s almost gone, but he can figure out the main components. Buy something similar.
Cater - who has a handful of scrunchies and hairpins. You’d carry them for him. Lined up on your wrist like cased sausages. They all smell like you now. One even with a bit of spilled nail polish on it. Navy blue. Not Cater’s.
Deuce - who doesn’t think about it at first. Until he’s helping clean up your room and drops a small bottle on the ground. It cracks and the scent of cheap perfume permeates into the wood floor. He digs through the shards for a label, ignoring the cuts on his hands.
Ace - who sleeps in your room under the pretense that it’s for Grim’s sake. It’s not dorm betrayal. This was his room as much as it was yours. He’d sneak out or take a collar as much as Riddle’s patience lasts. Since he can’t sleep anywhere else.
Leona - who’s been close enough to you to memorize the scent. He knows the brand. Knows the make and year. Some cheap body spray that barely lasts longer than a few hours. Like gum. He sprays some on his pillows before bed, burying his nose between them and pretends it’s you.
Ruggie - who couldn’t help himself. He swiped your half-empty bottle with practiced ease. Using it sparingly, down to the last drop, spritzing just enough on his collar to make it through the hard times. Doesn’t matter the price now. He tries to tell himself ‘when it’s out, i’m done’ but he said that when you left and look at him now.
Jack - who forgets entirely. Until weeks pass and he finds one of ‘your’ sweaters in his room. A little travel sized perfume in the pocket. He sprays some on the collar and presses it to his nose. For a moment, you’re there.
Azul - who’s paid for new couches in the VIP room. Scent permeates into leather and you’ve spent night after night curled on the originals. They’re moved to his bedroom, where he sleeps on them more than his own bed.
Floyd - who’s used to everything smelling too big. The surface world’s full of more pungent notes. He asks (demands) rather garishly for whatever you had. Soap, perfume, lotion - he doesn’t care. In a world where smells are too big, yours has become too small.
Jade - who brews the same blend of tea every night. Serves it in the same cup, pours out of the same pot, and doesn’t take a single sip. He lets the scent evaporate into the air because it smells faintly of someone who would dab some on their pulse points. Just for him.
Kalim - who supplied your entire wardrobe. Who wouldn’t budge on it, and made sure you had clean clothes besides your uniform. You looked so pretty, so happy, and your gratitude made him feel so loved. He didn’t stop there either. You complimented his bedroom once and that was enough to send more blankets than you’d ever need. Especially after seeing how cold Ramshackle could get. They were for you. So why are these the only blankets he can sleep in? If he closes his eyes, pulls them close, breathes - you’re hugging him, right? From wherever you are.
Jamil - who’s struggling to clean his room. There isn’t much time to dawdle. His sheets need to be washed. His uniform ironed. Then he has to finish his duties, shower, and ready for bed. He opens the top drawer for a new set of sheets and is hit with you. That’s right. You did the laundry last week…he closes the drawer and goes to borrow a set from Kalim. The urge to pull them out strong, but Jamil’s always been resistant to his needs.
Vil - who’s suddenly caught wearing a brand far beneath his normal standards. He rarely shows preference to one over the other. Yet this cheap, poorly balanced - honest to goodness mockery of a perfume has become his favorite. No one knows why.
Epel - who let you use his cardigan one time. More like you stole it during your stay at Harveston. Grandma said she’d make you one for when you came back. You still hogged his. The fibers picked your scent and he’s afraid to wash it. What was supposed to bring homely comfort, now fills him with yearning and nostalgia.
Rook - who seats himself in front of the fire. Barely lit, dim, and more for the mood. To light this abandoned room in a new emotion. He takes one last inhale from the most intoxicating scent known to Twisted Wonderland, and then tosses it to the flames.
Idia - who fingers a little glass bottle between thumb and index. It’s almost gone. He could buy more. Make some. The tags were peeled off, but Ortho could dissect the contents with just a drop. He’s clinging. Idia knows this as he pops the cap and presses his nose to it.
Ortho - who’s learning how to make friends. With new emotions and freedom. He’s studied the senses and how they influence emotions. When asked if there’s anything he’d like from Ramshackle, he thinks of what his brother might like. Idia won’t ask for himself. Yet Ortho’s own thoughts surprise him, because why does he want this little bottle of perfume so badly? It’s nothing special. He can locate 10 online listings with competitive prices and quantities. Yet he specifically wants this one.
Malleus - who slips into Ramshackle at the height of midnight. A ruin once again with relics upon relics of a beautiful soul now gone. He loiters and avoids your bedroom. Yet when he enters the bathroom, he looks at his reflection in the vanity. His eye catches the smallest glass bottle…and he takes it. He dares to spray it once on his cuff. The yearning causes him to stow it away for the next century. Until he craves to feel their warmth and searches.
Lilia - who smiles fondly, pressing the lapels of your blazer down and into a box. Taking it in before that sense begins to dull too. Committing it to memory. In a decade or two he’ll cross its path again, and remember .
Sebek - who chases. Who shamefully gives in to instinct and attachment. Who sprays the last of some generic, cheap, alcohol based scent that was an assault to him with bittersweet yearning. He traps it on your portrait and seals it in a glass frame. If temptation’s going to linger in him, then let it drive him forward.
Silver - whose eyes open easily for the first time. His heart stuttering, mind shifting, attention sharp … the call of your name on his lips, as a random student shakes him awake during class. He asks what perfume they wear and commits it to memory.
Grim - who sleeps curled on one of Heartslabyul’s chaises. He can’t go back to Ramshackle. Home. It’s not home without you there. He sleeps with the same striped throw that was hanging on that old, green lounge chair. The one you’d wrap him in while he waited for the fire to stoke. Each night he begs for Ace to do whatever it is he does to make it ‘smell right’. When he sleeps, he can almost pretend the armrest is your side and he’s right where he’s meant to be.
cold compresses and warm hands ! - leona kingscholar
synopsis: Leona not showing up to class for three days straight is to be expected, but Leona not showing up to class for a week? Maybe you should drop in and make sure he's okay.
a/n: i'm back from vacation! here's an older one while i get back into the groove of things <3
It's been nearly a week and there has been no sign of Leona whatsoever. No infuriatingly exaggerated yawn from behind you. No glimpse of the tip of his tail as he rounds a corner. No snore from behind the brush of the Botanical Garden. Nothing. So, being the curious classmate you are, you thought you ought to get to the bottom of this, and you knew just where to start.
Among the swarm of your peers lining up for food in the cafeteria, Ruggie was surprisingly easy to find, carrying a tray so full of food you thought it might slip from his grasp. Except Ruggie's exceptional balance and adamant nature about not wasting food meant that he would never let that happen.
"Hey Ruggie, know where Leona's at?" you inquire, careful not to bump into him as he sets his precariously balanced tray onto a lunch table.
"Busy with stuff."
Okay, a vague answer. Instead of looking at you, his attention is directed towards the five individually packaged meat buns stacked on his plate but he doesn't move to grab one.
"Busy with what?" you push.
"I dunno. I'm not telling. Just something. Why're you looking for him?"
You raise an eyebrow. That was three different responses rolled into one, and a question asked too quickly. Not at all suspicious.
"Ruggie, is there something you're not telling me?"
"Nope, nothing. Sorry gotta go!" He suddenly stands up and his untouched food is packed into his bag before you can even blink.
Definitely suspicious, you think as you watch him scamper off and weave his way through the crowd to exit the cafeteria.
There goes that plan. There's no other student at Night Raven College who knows Leona better than Ruggie. Except maybe...
Yes, him.
You could spot him from anywhere with his seamlessly shaped bob and his over-the-top demeanor.
Rook Hunt has never been an easy person to approach, but if anyone would know of Leona's whereabouts, it's him. Pomefiore's vice-housewarden's reputation precedes him and though you've only spoken a handful of times, you know precisely what the rest of Night Raven College's gossipy students mean.
As if sensing your approach from four tables away, Rook Hunt turns around and his eyes are dangerously piercing as he looks directly at you. You try not to swallow too hard but his beaming grin does little to quell your nerves.
"Ah, bon après-midi! I thought I felt your eyes gracing me with their beauty."
There's no point in backing out now, not now that he's initiated a conversation. "Oh, hi Rook. I was wondering if you knew where Leona is?"
A heavy sigh escapes him and he shakes his head in defeat, "To think that the Roi des Lions has been evading you as well. Alas, I regretfully have not seen him."
You mimic his sigh, knowing you've reached a dead end. Perhaps you could make another round around the grounds just in case you missed him.
"But were I to venture a guess, there's no place a lion prefers than that of his den," Rook offers.
"Of course, thank you!" Obviously you had checked all his usual napping spots around campus, and you even convinced a few Savanaclaw students to let you look around their dorm itself, but it had totally slipped your mind to check Leona's room.
Leona's room...it feels a little weird to be entering such a private space, but he left you no choice really.
"But of course, bonne chance! A persistent spirit must always be acknowledged!" Rook calls after you.
Twenty minutes later you find yourself standing outside of Leona's room with your knuckles braced on the door, and adamantly not knocking. Knocking is normal, but knocking on Leona's door just feels different somehow. Would it be weird to knock? He'll probably get mad at you for coming here in the first place, so it wouldn't really matter either way.
Whatever. You shake those thoughts from your head and rap on the door.
A beat passes and you try again.
With still no response, you thought that you made a mistake. You can't make out any sound from within. Maybe he's not in his room after all, but you should press your ear to the door just to be sure.
The door creaks open with the force of your weight, having not been shut properly, and you peer in.
With the curtains drawn the room was mostly in darkness, save for the sliver of light the door welcomed in. You can make out a hoard of pillows on the bed surrounding a strangely shaped hump beneath the blankets that you immediately recognized as Leona. As well as...three...four...seven boxes of tissues scattered about the room, a trash can beside the bed with used tissues inside and around it from where the user had so obviously missed his target.
Six days of prolonged absence and a hoard of tissues could only mean one thing.
Leona is sick.
"Leona?" You take a few tentative steps forward, hoping you're wrong.
"Ruggie," a hoarse voice calls out from the bed, "izaat you?"
The delirious Leona-shaped lump rolls over, trying and failing to sit up to get a better look at the person who just entered the room.
You swallow gingerly, debating your response but the thud of Ruggie's running footsteps interrupts your reply.
"Leona!" The poor boy is nearly breathless from his sprint as he crosses the doorway. "I got you the meat buns you asked for."
Ruggie takes one long look at you, then Leona, then you again.
"Oh no."
Leona groans from his place on the bed, and lets out a terrible, raspy cough.
"What do you mean 'oh no,' Leona is sick!" you reprimand. "It's been a week."
Ruggie's sour expression tells you that nobody at the school was supposed to know about this, which is also why Ruggie hadn't gone to Sam's to get medication. Probably on Leona's orders too. As if he was in any condition to make demands. His cough is so dry you were sure his throat is scarred from its force, and the sheer amount of tissues told you his nose has been dreadfully plugged for several days. Knowing Leona, he probably thought he could fight off this virus himself.
"Hey! Nobody told you to go looking for him!"
A grunt from Leona forces Ruggie to lower his voice.
"Nobody told you to go looking for him," Ruggie repeats, his voice barely audible.
You ignore him. "And meat buns? No wonder he's not getting any better with the food he's eating, I don't care if he asked you for it."
Diet, rest, and medication are the most important things for recovery. Two of which Leona has been utterly neglecting.
"Well then nurse, why don't you try taking care of Leona?"
"Maybe I will!"
"Fine then!"
"Okay!"
"Shut up," Leona wheezes out. "Head hurts."
Ruggie extends his arm towards Leona as an invitation, and you take it, making your way towards him to assess the current situation.
Both of Leona's eyes are closed and his eyebrows are furrowed together in either pain or annoyance, you couldn't tell. Most likely a mix of both. Hesitantly, you reach your arm out and press the back of your hand to his forehead. You let out a hiss.
"He's burning up."
Shifting on his feet, Ruggie decides that looking after a sick Leona is probably a two-person job.
"What should I get?"
"A bowl of ice-water and a couple small cloths."
"Leona'll owe me big time," he mutters to himself, and you glance up only to find that he is already gone.
It's hard to see someone you know fall ill, even more so when it's someone so...strong. Minutes tick by as you wait for Ruggie to return but it feels more like hours and you wish there was something else you could do to help other than watch. Uselessly. Leona's eyes remain shut as he drifts in and out of sleep, never quite making it to a satisfying, full slumber. Drawing uneven breaths, it's clear he's breathing more from his mouth than his nose, on account of one of his nostrils being out of commission.
Leona is many things but he is not helpless, which makes this all the harder to watch.
Just as you finish dragging a chair over beside his bed, Ruggie returns, the water in the bowl threatening to spill as he sets the items on the nightstand next to you.
The water is freezing, but you ignore the burning sting of the cold as you dunk the cloth in the water and wring it out. Leona lets out a yelp and jerks the second you place the cold cloth on his forehead. It feels like an electric shock delivered straight to his body.
His eyes shoot open. "The hell're ya doing. Get this thing offa me!"
"Shh, sorry but I have to." You force his body down with your hands. "You have a fever."
The warmth of his forehead blooms through the cloth. This is not good. Yet he continues to argue, his words choppy and strangely quiet and not at all like the Leona you know.
"I was just gonna sleep it off."
You roll your eyes. "Yeah? And how's that been working out for you so far?"
He could only grunt as a response and his eyes fall shut once again. You flip the cloth over and press your hand against the cloth, Leona letting out a hiss at the cool temperature.
"Ruggie, please go to the kitchen and ask one of the ghosts to prepare you a soup. Lentil, chicken noodle, carrot, I don't care. Just make sure it's hot."
Ruggie quirks a brow, knowing what's coming, but leaves wordlessly nevertheless.
"I'm not eating that watery herbivore crap," Leona protests, fighting his eyes open.
"Yes, you are," you say firmly. "No more meat buns for you."
It's clear that Leona so desperately wants to argue back but simply does not have the energy for it which works out well in your favor.
Eight reps of cold compresses later, a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup is placed on the nightstand as well. Warm and comforting, you can smell it from where you're sitting and you're sure Leona can too. His twitching nose just proves that Leona's acute sense of smell, which his ailment has certainly diminished, still seems to be functioning well. He is a beastman after all.
"Need anythin' else?" Ruggie asks. He's retreated to the doorframe and looks a little...on edge?
You shake your head. Leona's managed to sit up and from what you could tell, the fever's beginning to ebb away, even if just a little. "No. Thanks a lot Ruggie."
"I'm outta here," he says quickly, turning on his heel. "Just don't come cryin' to me when Leona tries to bite your fingers off for that soup," he calls from around the corner.
You turn to look at Leona, whose eyes are still closed, and yet you can sense a semblance of a smirk playing on his lips.
His ears twitch and he attempts a laugh. "You're sooorely mistaken if ya think I'm just gonna open my m-ARRRGHHGH."
And in goes a spoonful of soup. If he thought you were going to waste that perfect opportunity then he is the one who is sorely mistaken. You see an opening? You always take it.
Face going through various contortions as he deciphers the taste, Leona manages to swallow. Somehow. It was probably a good call on the chicken noodle on Ruggie's behalf. At least there's some meat in it. Though you had to admit it would be pretty amusing to watch Leona choke down a bowl of lentil soup.
"Never do that again." His expression is soured with something you're sure has nothing to do with the taste of the soup. Betrayal.
"Keep fighting back and I'll ask Ruggie to bring me a cone or something."
Leona's eyes widen in shock.
"And don't test me," you add. "I will use it if I have to."
A new side of Leona is introduced to you, one that you're sure is never going to make a re-appearance: a docile, conceding side. But it's not without several vicious side-eyes and a few snide remarks made under his breath.
Miraculously, Leona finishes the entire bowl of soup with minimal complaining. Whether it's because of your (empty) threat or because he secretly likes the taste of the soup, you aren't sure. But hey! Mission accomplished, and no fingers were lost in the process. Leona's head rests against a pillow once more and it seems like he's due for another nap. If Leona's got any part of the recovery process down, it's rest.
"If I didn't know any better I would say you're enjoying this, herbivore..." His voice is lazy as he trails off.
"Oh I am, mildly," you admit. "Beats History of Magic with Trein."
He manages a half-laugh and then all goes quiet as the lull of a calming sleep overtakes his weary body.
✦ 𓆣 ✦
When Leona wakes, he isn't himself.
Actually, he isn't sure if he's even awake. It's dark, and he's sure the sun has set but he's not quite sure what time it is. His room is clean, which is definitely not how he left it. And you're by his side, slumped over with your chest and arms on his bed and the rest of your body on the seat.
How long had you been like that? It seems like an uncomfortable position.
White-hot pain shoots through his mind and hallucinatory shapes dance around the room. He feels so cold, but so hot at the same time. His head is a fifty ton weight and every bone in his body feels brittle, threatening to shatter at any moment. How can he feel so dizzy? He's sure he's laying down. Or maybe it's him that's spinning and not the room?
He can feel it coming and there's nothing he can do to stop it.
✦ 𓆣 ✦
The sound of Leona hurling directly into the trashcan wakes you with a jolt. Had you really fallen asleep?
Before you can think you're rubbing his back with your hands as he gags over the trashcan with tears pricking his waterline. Vomiting is never a pleasant experience.
"It's okay, it's okay," you soothe with simple words, because you're not sure what else to say.
Leona has a death grip on either side of the trash can, bringing it closer to his mouth so he doesn't hunch over. There's nothing you can do except continue to whisper useless words and run your hands up and down his back as he finishes retching.
"You're okay."
Leona barely spares you a glance as he gets up from his place on the bed, entirely too quickly, and stumbles into the bathroom adjacent to his room. You're half worried he'll slip from the lightheadedness and crumple on the floor, but you give him space to rinse his face. The water faucet shuts off and Leona wobbles back to his bed, crashing back down on the mattress without a word.
Your hand shakes as you bring it up to his forehead once more.
He's hot...maybe even hotter than he was earlier today.
It's a good thing you refilled the ice-water bowl because you were going to need it. First thing's first though; while Leona was asleep, you went down to Sam's for some medicine to help alleviate the symptoms.
"Leona," you say gently. "You're gonna have to sit up for me real quick."
Leona doesn't fight back, doesn't say a word as you pour him the recommended dosage and he downs it in one short gulp. He shivers; it is most definitely not chicken-flavored medication.
To his warm body, every new compress is a shock and Leona never gets used to the ice-cold cloth making contact with his skin over and over again. It doesn't help that your touch feels equally cool against him, but that part he doesn't mind so much. A few days ago he told himself that he can sleep through the pain and that the aches in his body are nothing more than overexerting himself at Spelldrive practice.
He was disgustingly wrong. If it weren't for your nosey personality and your persistence he has no idea how he would be able to push through this without your comforting presence beside him. This is, and he's sure, the worst of it.
"You don't hafta do this," he mumbles feverishly. "I didn't ask ya to."
You take your time wringing out a new cloth.
"You don't need to," you finally murmur. "I'm sure as a prince you were given everything you wanted without needing to ask for it, and then you probably thought you were above help. That asking for it is a sign of weakness, and I'm here to tell you it's not. There's nothing wrong with letting the people who care for you help you out every once in a while."
There's a high chance Leona stopped listening many minutes ago, but your words bring you comfort as well. All is quiet in the Savanaclaw dorm with the only audible sounds being Leona's heavy breathing and the sound of your voice weaving stories to help yourself stay awake.
Cold compresses are placed and replaced until all the ice in the bowl has melted away.
✦ 𓆣 ✦
In the past twenty-four hours, Leona's been force-fed soup, threatened with a cone, and fought back a fever so vicious he was expecting to die at any moment.
His head is still pounding and his right nostril is still blocked but at least he isn't dizzy anymore and his body doesn't feel nearly as hot as it did last night. The worst of it is over. A look to his left told him that you had fallen asleep with a cold (now warm) compress still in hand.
He looks at you for a long while, memorizing the hypnotic rhythm of the rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. Fragments of your stories from last night make their way into his mind, but he can't remember too much of what you said. Gently, he plucks the cloth from you, his hand grazing yours in just the slightest way.
You're warm now, and so unlike how you felt just several hours ago, but you're not feverish. You're just...warm.
"Leona?" you ask groggily, eyes barely open.
Looking at you, he felt his heart throb with. Well, something.
Whatever it is, he had an inkling of a feeling that it's unrelated to his illness. But that, he thinks, is something that he can figure out after a long, warm, much-needed shower. Plus, he needs to make sure he hadn't gotten you sick too.
I'll tell you what we all need. Leona in his tight spelldrive uniform🫣 that card makes my head go brrrrrr.
I 200% agree! I think it's one of my favorite outfit <3! The first time I saw the card, I went crazy! Love the haircut, high ponytail, i LOVE belts everywhere (i'm just too lazy to draw it these days...)
The moment the words leave your lips, the air in the room changes.
Riddle goes still—too still. The sharp edge of anger on his face vanishes, wiped clean in an instant, replaced by something raw. Something terrified.
“…Say that again.”
His voice is barely above a whisper, but it cuts through you like a blade.
You’re still fuming, still frustrated, and for a second, you nearly do. Nearly snap, fine, I will. But then you actually see him.
The way his breath catches in his throat, the way his fingers tremble as they clutch the hem of his sleeve, the way his brilliant, bright eyes—always so full of certainty—are suddenly wide and wet.
You can see the tears, clinging to his lashes, threatening to spill.
And your heart shatters.
“Oh—oh, no—”
The fight is gone. It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter, not when this is what you’ve done to him.
You rush to him, reaching out before you can even think, cupping his face in your hands. His skin is burning, his breaths uneven as he stares at you, searching your face for something—some answer, some reassurance, anything.
"Riddle," your voice cracks, "I didn’t mean it—”
His lips part, but no words come out. His hands grasp at your wrists, gripping them like they’re the only thing keeping him standing. And then—then he’s shaking. Visibly shaking.
“Do you mean it?” His voice is small. A whisper. “Do you really… want to leave me?”
The way he says it—like he’s afraid of the answer, like the thought alone is too much to bear—makes your chest ache.
“No,” you whisper, thumbing away a tear before it can fall. “No, Riddle. I don’t.”
The first tear slips free anyway, rolling hot and silent down his cheek. He doesn’t blink it away. Doesn’t try to stop the next.
And then he’s collapsing against you, fingers clutching desperately at your back as his breath comes in unsteady gasps.
“I—I don’t want you to go.” His voice wobbles, barely holding together. “I don’t—”
“I won’t,” you swear, holding him tighter, your own eyes burning. “I’m so sorry, Riddle. I shouldn’t have said that. I was just—angry, and I wasn’t thinking, and I never meant it.”
His grip tightens, his whole body trembling against you. “I—” He inhales sharply, as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”
"You aren’t," you say fiercely, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks are streaked with tears now, his lips trembling as he fights to hold himself together.
He’s so small like this. So vulnerable. And it’s all because of you.
Your fingers thread through his hair, trying to soothe, to comfort. “I’ll make it up to you. Anything you want.”
He shakes his head. “I just want you to stay.”
Your breath catches.
"I will," you promise, voice thick with emotion. "I will."
He studies you for a moment, his tears still fresh, but then—hesitantly, carefully—he nods.
And then, softer: “I… I’ll try to be better, too.”
You blink at him, surprised.
“I know I push too hard,” he murmurs, looking away, ashamed. “I know the rules make things difficult. But I—” His breath shudders. “I love you. And I love you more than any rule.”
Something inside you breaks, and you pull him into you again, hands threading through his hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.
“I love you, too,” you murmur. “So much.”
He exhales shakily, curling into you as though he never wants to let go.
And you let him.
Leona Kingscholar
"Let’s break up."
The words land like a thunderclap in the space between you, sharp and final.
Leona’s jaw tightens. His hands curl into fists at his sides, but his face—his goddamn face—stays infuriatingly unreadable.
He exhales sharply through his nose, gaze cutting into you like a blade. "Fine, go."
That’s it. That’s all he says.
Something in your chest twists, but you’re too angry, too hurt, to unpack it. So you turn on your heel and storm out.
But the second you step into the hallway, realization slams into you like a freight train.
Your phone.
You left your stupid phone.
Gritting your teeth, you double back, pushing open the door, already bracing yourself for another round of whatever the hell this is.
But what you see when you step inside—
Your breath catches in your throat.
Leona is on his knees, hunched over, his hands tangled in his hair like he’s trying to rip himself apart. His whole body is trembling, muscles locked so tight it looks painful.
Panic surges through you. “Leona—?”
He snaps up at the sound of your voice, eyes wild, glassy with something too raw for him to hide. “Get the hell out,” he growls. But his voice—his always smooth, always unshakable voice—cracks.
And that’s all it takes. The anger, the stubbornness, the fight—gone.
“Shit—Leona, no, I—” You’re moving before you can think, dropping to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for his face. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.”
He jerks away at first, like he doesn’t want to be touched, but then—then he latches on to you.
His arms wrap around you, crushing, desperate. His face buries into your shoulder, breath shuddering against your skin.
“You crossed a line,” he rasps, voice thick with something broken. “You don’t get to say shit like that.”
Guilt slams into you so hard it leaves you breathless. “I—I know,” you whisper, hands running over his back, trying to soothe, trying to fix this. “I wasn’t thinking. I was just—”
You almost apologize, almost take all the blame, but then—
“…It’s my fault, too,” he murmurs. His grip tightens, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “I run my damn mouth. I don’t—” A shaky exhale. “I don’t know how to be good at this.”
Your chest aches.
“You are good at this,” you whisper. “You’re trying.”
A humorless chuckle leaves him. “Not hard enough.”
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, brushing his hair from his face. “Then we try together.”
Leona stares at you, eyes searching, burning with something unreadable. Then, slowly, finally, he nods.
And when he tugs you back into his arms, this time, you don’t let go.
Azul Ashengrotto
"Let’s break up."
The words fall into the space between you, sharp as a blade, final as a slammed door.
Azul freezes. His breath hitches, his fingers twitching like he’s just been struck. For a moment, he stands still—too still—his lips parting soundlessly as if trying to form a rebuttal that won’t come. Then, something shifts in his expression. His hands move behind his back, and when they return, a familiar, glowing parchment materializes between his fingers.
“Now, now,” he says, voice a shade too high, too careful. “Let’s not be rash. We did sign a contract, remember?”
You stare, your anger momentarily thrown off course. “What?”
“Our agreement,” he says swiftly. He rolls the parchment open with shaking fingers, forcing a strained smile onto his face. “When we first started dating, you signed—you willingly signed—a document stating that you were mine. That I was yours. For as long as we both should want.”
You recognize it immediately. The silly, handwritten contract he had drawn up as a joke back when you first got together, all those months ago. The one that had made you laugh when he’d made a show of rolling it out across the table, dipping a fountain pen in ink and asking you to sign it as if you were brokering the deal of a lifetime.
It had been ridiculous. Endearing. Him.
But now, he grips it like a lifeline.
You swallow. “Azul—”
He doesn’t hear you.
“If you’re unhappy, I’ll revise the terms,” he says, pacing now, voice climbing with every word. His hands are trembling, but he’s still holding the parchment, still clutching onto it like it’ll somehow stop this from happening. “A new contract. Fairer. More… accommodating. I will fix this. Just tell me—tell me what to change.”
You’ve seen Azul negotiate before. When he’s in control, he’s smooth, ruthless, unshakable. But this? This isn’t that.
This is him spiraling.
“Azul, stop.” You reach for him, but he steps back, shaking his head as if he’s afraid to listen.
“I— I can’t let this be the final clause,” he mutters, barely even speaking to you anymore, his mind racing ahead of him, already rewriting things, already trying to find a loophole in the heartbreak. “If I— If I just—”
You move before he can finish.
With both hands, you grab onto him, forcing him to still. He jerks in your grasp, but you don’t let go. Instead, you press your forehead to his, forcing him to breathe, to be here.
His breath shudders, the contract slipping from his fingers as his hands come up, grabbing onto your sleeves like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
“You can’t leave like this,” he chokes out, voice raw, broken.
You tighten your grip. “I’m not leaving.”
His whole body trembles, and it guts you—this realization that he truly thought you would.
“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper. “Azul, I didn’t mean it.”
For a second, he stays silent. Then, with a shaky exhale, his arms tighten around you, crushing you to him like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.
“I took it too far,” he murmurs. “I— I always take things too far.”
You shake your head, pressing closer. “We both did.”
He hesitates. “…Do you still love me?”
Your heart cracks.
“Of course I do,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “I always will.”
His expression crumples. His grip on you doesn’t loosen, not even for a second. And you don’t let go either—not until his shaking stops, not until the frantic hammering of his heart slows to something steady, something sure.
Not until he knows, without a doubt, that you’re still his.
Kalim Al-Asim
“Let’s break up.”
It comes out sharper than you mean it to. Too final. Too cruel.
Kalim stops mid-sentence. The smile he’d been wearing just seconds ago falters, crumbling at the edges. His lips part, but nothing comes out. He just… stares. As if his brain refuses to process the words, as if saying them again might somehow make them make sense.
For the first time in what feels like forever, his endless, sunlit energy dims. His mouth opens, then closes, like he’s trying to process the words, like they don’t make sense in his world where everything is bright and full of love. But then, before you can take it back, he rushes forward.
“Wait—no, no, don’t—I’ll fix this,” he blurts out. “I’ll—I’ll buy you anything you want! A new house! A hundred houses! A vacation! No—wait, we’ll travel the world! I’ll—”
“I can fix this,” he insists, frantic now. “I will fix this.” “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen. A vacation! A house! A palace! You want to travel? I’ll take you anywhere. Everywhere. I’ll—”
“Kalim, stop.”
Your voice is raw, exhausted, but he keeps going, like if he just talks fast enough, if he just offers enough, you won’t slip through his fingers.
“I’ll— I’ll talk to Jamil! He’ll know what to do—he always knows what to do, right?” Kalim laughs, but it’s hollow, empty, shaking on his tongue. “Or maybe I just need to—”
“Kalim,” you snap. “That’s not—”
But then you see him.
Wide, glistening eyes, hands outstretched but trembling, hesitant, like he wants to pull you in but isn’t sure if he deserves to. His chest rises and falls too quickly, breath shaky, uneven. He looks lost.
And just like that, your anger crumbles.
You step forward, and he breaks.
His arms are around you in an instant, crushing, desperate. “Please, I can fix this, just—just tell me what to do,” he murmurs into your shoulder, holding you tight enough to make your ribs ache. “I’ll give you anything.”
“Kalim,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his face. He leans into your touch immediately, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. His skin is warm, but his cheeks are damp, and the sight of it makes your chest squeeze painfully.
“I don’t want your money,” you say softly. “I don’t want anything but you.”
His breath stutters, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s still afraid to believe it. Then, his hands clutch at your back, his whole body sinking against yours.
“I took it too far,” he mumbles. “I—I wasn’t listening. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”
You shake your head. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it, Kalim.”
His lips tremble, and then he lets out a breathy, almost nervous laugh. “So… does that mean we can still go on vacation?”
You huff a laugh, brushing away the last of his tears with your thumb. “Ask Jamil first.”
He giggles, warm and relieved, and squeezes you even tighter. “You ask him,” he teases. “He likes you better.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. Not when Kalim is holding you like this—like he’s afraid to ever let go again.
Vil Schoenheit
“Let’s break up.”
The words fall, sharp and deliberate, hanging in the space between you like shattered glass.
Vil’s eyes narrow immediately, his expression hardening into something cold—something dangerous. “Excuse me?”
You cross your arms, chin tilted up defiantly. You’re both still seething from the argument, and you shouldn’t have said it, but you were mad, and it came out. You almost take it back, almost soften, but then Vil lets out a sharp, bitter laugh.
“Oh, how fitting,” he sneers, crossing the room in slow, measured steps. “Was it fun?” His voice drips venom, but his hands are curled into fists at his sides. “Did you enjoy making me fall? Enjoy making me love you, only to take it back the moment it became inconvenient?”
Your jaw clenches. “That’s not what this is—”
“I never should have trusted you.” His voice wavers just slightly, but his glare is unwavering, eyes burning with something wounded. “I never should have given you my heart.”
That—that stings.
Anger flares up again, rekindled by the sharpness of his words. “Oh, so now I’m just some villain in your grand tragedy?” You scoff, turning on your heel. “Sevens, Vil, you're so damn dramatic—”
But then you see him.
One hand gripping the edge of his dresser, knuckles white, the other trembling at his side. His perfectly controlled posture just a little too stiff, his lips pressed together a little too hard. His breathing is uneven, chest rising and falling too quickly.
Your heart clenches.
You step forward. “Vil—”
His head snaps up. “Leave,” he says, voice tight. “If you meant it, go. I don’t like to waste my time.”
It’s not a challenge. It’s a plea.
You hesitate for less than a second before closing the distance between you, reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is warm, his breath unsteady beneath your touch. He doesn’t move—doesn’t pull away—but his lashes flutter, as if fighting against something breaking inside him.
“…I didn’t mean it,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”
Vil lets out a breath, shaky and vulnerable, and then suddenly you’re the one being pulled in—his arms wrapping around you too tightly, holding you too close. His grip is unrelenting, crushing, as if trying to fuse you to him so you can’t take it back, so you can’t slip away.
“You are never allowed to say that again,” he whispers, voice raw against your ear. “Not even as a joke. Not even in passing. You are not even allowed to think it.”
Your chest aches at the desperation in his voice. You pull back just enough to see his face, and your stomach twists at the sight of his tears—silent, barely-there, but real.
You reach up, wiping them away with careful fingers. Then, with a small, wry smile, you murmur, “Yes, my queen.”
Vil exhales a tearful, exasperated laugh, shaking his head before pulling you back into his arms.
Idia Shroud
“Let’s break up.”
You say it and turn away, arms crossed, heart pounding. You’re still angry—frustrated from the argument, from everything, from how hard it feels to get through to him sometimes. Maybe you don’t even mean it, maybe you just want him to react, to do something other than shutting down like he always does.
But he doesn’t say anything.
The silence stretches, and unease curls in your stomach. You swallow, forcing yourself to look back at him—at Idia.
He looks wrecked.
His mouth opens, then closes. His fingers twitch at his sides, knuckles going white. His hair, always shifting between embers and flames, has dimmed—flickering in weak, uneven pulses. When he finally speaks, it’s barely a whisper.
“…Okay.”
Something inside you snaps.
Okay? That’s it?
A sharp, ugly lump lodges in your throat. You suddenly feel worse, so much worse, because—are you not even worth a fight? Did he really give up on you that easily?
“Are you serious?” Your voice shakes, half furious, half devastated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Idia doesn’t respond. His lips are pressed together, and his hands are trembling now, shaking so badly that his arms are practically vibrating. His breathing is off—short, shallow inhales, his shoulders jerking with every breath.
And then it gets worse.
His breath stutters, chest rising too quickly—his entire body curling in on itself as he gasps sharply, like the air’s been sucked out of the room. He grips his hoodie, knuckles pale, hair flickering erratically between dim embers and sudden, crackling blue flames.
Your anger vanishes in an instant.
“Idia—Idia, breathe—”
You rush forward, hands finding his arms, steadying him. He flinches at first, as if expecting you to push him away, but you hold firm, guiding him, grounding him. “Slow down—okay? Just breathe with me.” You exaggerate your own breaths, steady and deep, trying to coax him into following.
It takes a few tries, but eventually, his breathing slows.
“…Sorry,” he croaks, voice hoarse. His head hangs low, hair covering his eyes. “I—I get it. It makes sense. I knew this would happen eventually.”
Your stomach twists. “What?”
“I mean… of course you’d wanna leave.” He lets out a hollow, broken laugh. “I’m—I'm just me. A total shut-in, a socially inept loser—ugh, why am I even saying this, you already know—”
“Idia.” Your voice wobbles, but your grip tightens. “Don’t—don’t say that.”
He gives another weak laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I’m not blind. I know I’m not—”
You don’t even think. You just move—your fist making weak contact with his arm. Not hard, not meant to hurt, just enough to snap him out of it.
Idia blinks. “Did you just—”
“Shut up.” Your voice shakes as you glare at him. “I’m not leaving. I didn’t mean it.”
His lips part, but no words come out. His eyes are wide, uncertain—still scared.
You exhale shakily before throwing your arms around him, hugging him tight. For a second, he’s stiff, frozen in shock. But then his entire frame shudders, and he clutches onto you like a lifeline—like he’s afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear.
“…I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice barely there.
“Me too,” you murmur, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.
Neither of you move for a long time. You just stay, holding each other, feeling the erratic beat of his heart slowly, slowly settle.
Malleus Draconia
"Let's break up."
The moment the words leave your lips, the world shudders.
A crack of thunder splits the sky, raw and angry, rattling the very foundations of the room. Candles flicker and die, plunging the space into restless shadows. The temperature drops—not a slow, creeping cold, but an unnatural, suffocating chill that makes your breath turn to mist.
Malleus stares at you.
For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks truly lost.
“…What?”
His voice is barely a whisper, yet it carries more weight than the storm raging outside.
You cross your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way your stomach twists at his expression. “If we’re just going to keep fighting like this, maybe we should just break up.”
The moment the words settle between you, the room cracks.
A mirror splinters violently across the wall, fissures creeping like veins of frost. The chandelier swings wildly overhead, and outside, the night erupts with restless lightning, green fire dancing along the sky.
“No.”
Malleus breathes the word like an incantation, as if sheer denial can rewrite reality. His magic howls, thick with something frantic, something dangerous.
You clench your fists, holding your ground even as the weight of his magic presses against your skin. “You don’t get to just say no, Malleus.”
He takes a step forward.
Then another.
His pupils are blown wide, glowing emerald rings burning with raw, uncontained emotion. His fingers twitch like they don’t know whether to reach for you or cling to something that’s already slipping through his grasp.
And then—
He falls to his knees.
Not gracefully. Not like a prince.
He drops.
His hands catch the fabric of your clothes, gripping desperately, his breath ragged as he looks up at you—not as the heir of the Valley, not as a dragon fae feared by the world, but as a man who is terrified.
“Stay,” he pleads. “Please, stay.”
Your heart clenches so painfully you can barely breathe.
Malleus Draconia, the untouchable, the immortal, the feared—kneeling before you, holding onto you like you are the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.
“I will fix it,” he promises, voice shaking, magic crackling like a living thing. “I will change. I will be better. Just—don’t go. Don’t say that again.”
His grip tightens as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish between one breath and the next. His hands are trembling, his knuckles white.
“I cannot lose you,” he chokes out, his forehead pressing against your stomach, his body curling inward like he’s trying to make himself small. “Not like this. Not over something so stupid. If I have wronged you, tell me how to atone. If I have hurt you, tell me how to make it right.”
His voice breaks.
“Tell me how to keep you.”
Your knees buckle. You sink down to his level, hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing against the feverish glow of his cheeks. His breath hitches under your touch, green eyes wide and wet.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry, I—I took it too far.”
Malleus exhales shakily, leaning into your touch like it’s the only warmth in the world.
“Will you stay?” he asks, his voice so raw, so small.
You nod.
Something inside him cracks. A full-body shudder wracks through him, and then he’s pulling you in—burying himself in your embrace, arms locking around you in a hold so desperate it almost hurts. His forehead presses against your shoulder, his breath unsteady, his magic still trembling at the edges.
“I love you,” he murmurs, the words nearly breaking. “More than you could ever know.”
You close your eyes, holding him just as tightly.
“I love you too.”
And as the storm outside begins to quiet, so too does the storm inside him.
Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes but we keep living anyways.
a/n: angsty angst yes yes..
Albedo
Some people can't really see what's going inside the head of the elusive chief alchemist of the Knights of Favonius. Especially, within the days after your funeral. He was quieter than usual, staring off in the distance while Durin and Klee look at him worried. They've tried to speak to him but it's hard on them as well. Since, they also lost their other big sibling.
Albedo himself feels there is something missing where his heart should be, a gaping hole of love with nowhere to go, his tears have been shed, and all that sits is your laugh, your smile, and the little ways you showed him how to live and breathe.
Who will swoon at his wit? Who will admire his work while asking a variety of questions that sometimes has even him stumped for an answer. You brought even more light to his world and suddenly—you're gone. His world dimmer and numb as he continues his work. Is it defying fate and the gods of Teyvat themselves if he wishes to bring you back?
Wanderer
How much sorrow could a puppet take? He has taken countless titles and names but being yours was the sweetest thing he'd been called. He usually detests sweets but you wormed your way in either way. Scara could only laugh in bitter sorrow, had he not learnt? How fragile and easy human life is to take? He should've protected you, he should've been fast enough, you shouldn't have been the one to die.
It should've been him instead—now he'll never hear your annoying voice in his ear telling him about your day, he'll never gaze over you—amused, whenever you ate something too sour, worst of all he'll have to live his life without you.
He knew with his lifespan that would've eventually happened but you still had years to be by each other's side. He thought he'd see you grow older, wiser, and still the most beautiful person he's ever loved. But fate is cruel and the gods have taken you from him leaving him in a state of numbness. Sometimes in the dead of night he calls out your name. Even though he knows you're not there to answer with his name on your lips.
He knows Lesser Lord Kusanali and Durin are worried but whenever his eyes close—he swears he can still feel you.
Kaeya
The Calvary captain has certainly had his fill at both Angel share and The Cat's Tail. He wobbles up to his usual seat by the bar expecting Charles but was unfortunately met with the pitying gaze of his older brother—Diluc. He dodges his look, he can't stand letting his brother see him in this sorry state. You've been gone for a few days—heh it wasn't a hard mission surely?
Then why did you come back cold? Was it him? His vision did lose control the moment he saw you. Nothing mattered except you, he remembers begging Barbara, Jean, Varka to do something—anything to bring you back to him.
The sinner himself even prayed to Barbatos himself to help him just this once to save you. Yet, he never answered and you were already buried with all the memories you two shared. Now all Kaeya has done is work, work, and work—recklessly throwing himself in work and alcohol. If he didn't he'd be restless. Kaeya sees his brother soften as he slides him a cool glass of water instead, he doesn't realize it himself but Kaeya was crying staring at the table.
He misses your voice, your anger, your frustrations, and your joy. He misses it all and wished he could keep you company just once more to see you.
Varka
Few have seen the grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius so downtrodden and silent. His usually boisterous laughter dimmed into a polite chuckle when the Knights tried to lift the master's spirits but even they can feel the lost of you. After all, the grandmaster always bragged about you, spoke about your achievements, and how lovely you were to him. He laughed loudly when the Knights complained about how much he kept taking about you.
Though, seeing him now was unnerving. He didn't run away from paperwork and did his duties to the letter. He went around Mondstadt but not with the same fearless bravado and charm.
On some nights, some could hear sobs coming from his office. Other nights, his broken laughter could be heard along a chorus of calling your name. Most likely looking through your photographs. The grandmaster doesn't waver much in his duties but there's always this air of melancholy in his words, his smile, and his actions. He mustn't break down. For you and for Mondstadt.
Easier said than done honestly, he thinks to himself sitting by your gravestone with a bottle of wine and memories shared between you. The good, the bad, and everything in between. You were both supposed to live till you were wrinkly old people loving each other till your dying breath. Varka chuckles lovingly defeated as he pours you both a drink. To us.
Lohen
The peculiar vice captain of the fifth company had always been a mystery to most. He was thrilled in battle and moved as if he was the arrow itself—cold, sharp, and precise. So, it was terrifying seeing him sluggish a moment then switching up to his usual demeanor once there was an audience. Though only few could see the change in him—it wasn't unexpected when his reason to live each day the best he could passed away just a mere two weeks ago.
Lohen, pierced through the monsters like a bullet using his bow when it called for it while dealing the finishing blow with his pole arm. Hes been like this for a while, spacing out after every kill like he sees you off in the distance—waiting to treat his wounds if there were any. Sometimes he did it on purpose just to see you fret over him.If he were a regular knight that would've been an issue but even as the massive axe comes for him—he dodges like he expected it taking the metachurl down in under a minute.
After every battle, his eyes still search for you and when he doesn't see you a maniacal bitter laugh erupts as he walks away waving off people's mixed reactions of confusion, pity, and understanding. You held his heart, his name on your lips, and the smile on his. He doesn't know how long till the numbness reaches his soul without you as he walks off to visit your grave again tonight.
Baizhu
Immortality could have saved the both of you. He wouldn't have to loose you if you were immortal, wouldn't he? Baizhu muses to himself behind the counter of the Bubu Pharmacy where he continued the business. He didn't want to remain idle not when that idleness cost him you.
He wishes he was stronger and more capable. Maybe then—you wouldn't have slipped from his fingers right into to deaths cold hard embrace.
He's spent days crying at night just wishing you were beside him, waiting for him, and just talking to him about nothing and anything in between. It's within those moments that Changseng becomes quiet looking at Baizhu breaking down at night while at day he remains composed and at the point of acceptance like he wasn't begging and clawing for the gods to bring you back to him while he coughs and sobs gripping your side of the bed—it still smelt like you and that brought forth another round of tears of both comfort and yearning.
To hold you again, to see you achieve your wildest dreams, and to be you. Just you. Qiqi sometimes remembers and asks Baizhu where you were and each time he patted her head gently, eyes softening, smile soft yet heavy as he answers, “Just on a trip.” And each time he wishes it were true.
a/n: written before Lohen release so might be a bit ooc
Hi, I was wondering if you could do the Housewardens + Jamil (separately) x fem Reader, where it's of them already in a relationship, and this is kind of based on the trend on TikTok, but it's the Reader seeing this trend and decides to try it by calling them "Buddy, Pal, etc." to see their reaction?
Their reaction when their s/o calls them "Buddy/Pal"
Featuring: Housewardens (+ Jamil)
A/N: off topic, but I've been listening to Azul's Overblot song on repeat for a long time now. Malleus' as well. They're just so...... Peakalicious. Malleus' makes me ascend I swear. (Like the record of ragnarok s3 ending.... I love ror please tell me some people still know it.)
Riddle Rosehearts
it happens so casually that riddle almost doesn't process it at first. you're talking to him like usual, nothing out of place, until you drop a light, absentminded "thanks, buddy" at the end of a sentence. he pauses. just slightly. it's small enough that someone else might miss it, but you don't. his expression tightens in that thoughtful way he gets when something does not align properly. "...buddy?" he repeats, slower, like he's testing the word for errors. there is nothing technically wrong with it, and yet it feels completely incorrect in context. he watches you a little more closely after that, trying to determine if it was intentional. when you do it again, maybe with a "you're really helpful, pal," he sets his book down with a quiet but deliberate motion. "...i fail to see how those terms are appropriate in this context, my love" he says, tone controlled but clearly bothered. it's not anger, not quite, but something closer to discomfort at being... reclassified. what gives him away most is the way he lingers near you afterward, like he is subtly trying to correct the distance you just created without outright saying it. when you explain it was just a trend, and he exhales sharply, clearly relieved but trying to hide it behind a huff. "that was a highly unnecessary experiment." he says, though he stays a little closer to you than before.
Leona Kingscholar
leona reacts slower, mostly because he assumes you're joking at first. when you call him "pal" he barely even opens his eyes, just grunts like he can't be bothered. but then you do it again. and again. that's when he actually looks at you properly, one eye opening with clear suspicion. "...the hell was that?" he mutters, voice low, more confused than annoyed. he studies you for a second, like he's trying to figure out if you're messing with him on purpose. when it clicks that you probably are, he lets out a quiet huff. "you tryin' ta start somethin' babe?" there's no real anger, but there's a shift in how he carries himself, more attentive now, more focused on you. if you keep going, he gets a little more direct about it, tugging you closer with minimal effort. "i'm not your 'buddy,'" he says flatly, like it should be obvious. the way he doesn't let you drift too far after thqt says more than the words. after you admit it was a prank, and he just gives you a long, unimpressed look before scoffing. "you're lucky i didn't actually care," he mutters, even though he pulls you closer right after.
Azul Ashengrotto
azul notices immediately. of course he does. the first "pal" is enough to make his expression flicker for just a second before he smooths it over. "how... informal, my love." he says, tone light but clearly measured. he does not confront it right away, instead observing, waiting to see if it's a one-time slip or something intentional. when you repeat it, he adjusts his glasses, gaze sharpening just slightly. "...i was under the impression our relationship operated on more... specific terms, hm?" he says carefully. there's something almost analytical in the way he approaches it, like he'd trying to understand the motive behind the shift rather than just reacting emotionally. but the longer it continues, the more it starts to bother him in a way he cannot quite hide. it's not just the word, it's what it implies—a distancing, a redefinition he did not agree to. eventually, he leans in just slightly, voice quieter. "if this is some sort of joke, i would appreciate being informed," he says, and there is a hint of something more genuine underneath the composure. once you explain, he adjusts his glasses with a small sigh, composure slipping for just a second. "i would prefer you not test our relationship stability for entertainment." he says, though there's clear relief in his tone.
Jamil Viper
jamil notices immediately, but unlike some of the others, he does not react outwardly right away. when you call him "buddy," he just gives you a look—brief, sharp, assessing. "...that's new," he says, tone neutral. he does not question it directly at first, choosing instead to observe, to see if it's intentional. when you repeat it, his patience thins just slightly. "if you're trying to make a point, you might as well say it directly," he says, more blunt this time. he doesn't like indirect changes like that, especially when it involves something as specific as how you address him. there's a quiet tension in the way he interacts with you afterward, like he's waiting for you to clarify. if you keep going, he eventually steps in, more direct now. "i'm not just your 'pal.' i'm your boyfriend." he says, low and firm, not angry, but not amused either. he wants clarity, and he is not going to let it slide without getting it. you admit it was a prank, and jamil gives you a flat look before exhaling quietly. "next time, choose something less ambiguous." he says, though the tension in his posture finally eases.
Kalim Al-Asim
kalim does not get it at first. when you call him "buddy," he just smiles like you said something nice. "yeah! i'm your buddy!" he says, completely unbothered, even a little happy about it. but then you keep doing it. and slowly, very slowly, something shifts. he pauses a little longer before responding, smile still there but softer, more uncertain. "...wait," he says eventually, tilting his head. "aren't i... more than that?" there is no accusation in it, just genuine confusion. he doesn't get upset, but he does start sticking closer to you, more affectionate than usual without realizing it, like he's trying to naturally re-establish what he thinks is already there. if you call him "pal" again, he laughs, but there is a small, quiet "hey..." under it, like he's not entirely convinced anymore. when you tell him it was a joke, he immediately brightens, laughing in relief. "oh! okay, good!! i thought i did something wrong, aha!" he admits, hugging you a little tighter than usual.
Vil Schoenheit
vil notices instantly, and unlike some of the others, he does not let it slide even once. the moment you call him "buddy," his expression sharpens, gaze narrowing ever so slightly. "...excuse me?" he says, voice calm but edged. he doesn't raise his voice, doesn't overreact, but the disapproval is immediate and clear. he studies you like you have just done something deeply out of place. when you repeat it, he exhales slowly, clearly unimpressed. "if you are attempting humor, it is not landing, sweet potato." he says flatly. to him, it's not just strange, it's a downgrade in tone, a shift that does not match the relationship he expects. he doesn't tolerate it for long, stepping closer, reclaiming the space with quiet confidence. "i am not your 'pal' i am your boyfriend. your significant other. nothing less." he corrects, voice firm but not harsh. there's a certain finality to it, like he has already decided this trend is not continuing. after hearing it was a prank, he looks at you with clear disapproval before sighing. "do not involve me in such tasteless trends again." he says, though he smooths your hair back into place right after.
Idia Shroud
idia short-circuits. completely. the moment you call him "buddy," he freezes mid-sentence, staring at you like you just triggered a secret bad ending or something. "..huh?" he says, very eloquently. at first, he assumes he misheard. then you do it again, and now he is spiraling. "wait, wait, what does that mean? did i miss a relationship flag?? are we like... downgraded?? d—did i pick the wrong romance route?!" he is overthinking immediately, trying to backtrack every interaction to figure out what caused this shift. it doesn't help that he already struggles with confidence, so this hits way harder than it should. he gets visibly more awkward, more unsure, hovering between asking directly and pretending it is fine. eventually, he just blurts it out. "i’m not just your buddy, right??" and the fact that he asks it so bluntly makes it very clear how much it got to him. you explain, and he just collapses back in his chair, groaning. "that was psychological damage for no reason! don't do that to me babe...!" he mutters, still visibly flustered but clearly relieved.
Malleus Draconia
malleus doesn't react the way you expect, but that does not mean he doesn't notice. when you call him "pal" he pauses, gaze settling on you with quiet curiosity. "...that is an unusual term, i thought humans only use that for their acquaintances, not their significant others." he says, not offended, just thoughtful. he doesn't immediately interpret it as something negative, but he does recognize that it's different from how you usually address him. when it continues, he becomes more attentive, watching you more closely, as if trying to understand the mwaning behind the change. "is this a new form of address among partners?" he asks at one point, genuinely curious. but there's a subtle shift in how he stays near you afterward, like he is reaffirming his place beside you without needing to say it directly. he doesn't reject the term, but he also doesn't fully accept it, instead quietly maintaining the connection he knows exists regardless of what you call him. after you tell him it was a mere joke, he hums thoughtfully before giving a small nod. "i see... then i shall remember that this 'prank' holds no true meaning." he says, though he remains just as close to you as before.
