꒰ request ﹕ “ Is it ok to request hcs for Leona, Jack and Kalim dating a Yuu who's very closed about their past and two pair goes to the beach and Yuu confesses that they had a very difficult childhood. As in their parents were very abusive and that's why they weren't so desperate to go home. ” ꒱
content : angst with comfort ,, mention of abuse ,, mentions of scars ,, not much detail ,, gn reader ,, headcanons ,, may be ooc .
ARLA YAP : loved this request i can relate, don’t think i have got a horrible or awful request yet!! guys if your request is taking long i am doing it, i’ve seen it, it may just be abit more difficult for me to do.
🌵 » 𝓙𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥 ,
—> like the gentle man he is, he has never pushed you to say what you don’t want too, never forced you to open up and also doesn’t ask any personal questions.
—> he will notice the shift in how you act when someone brings up crowley finding you a way home and how it’s going, though he doesn’t mention it.
—> he’s wary with how he is around you and how you act to certain stuff though, he doesn’t exactly have a reason he hasn’t sussed it out quite yet but he knows something is off.
—> once you finally open up; its at the beach while your still in the changing room, he’s waiting outside for you however you start to tear up as you tried to explain any reason for the old scars on you’re body, he immediately comes in.
—> he holds you in your arms, not even looking at the scars, no he’s looking at you, he lets you talk even while you struggle to find the words, his hands are at your sides soothing your hips in an attempt to calm you down.
—> to him it now all makes sense, every time someone brought up ‘going home’ whether it was to you or them saying they were excited to do so, he noticed every.single.time - how you would tense up, go quiet, your hands scratching your thighs as if it would help in some way.
—> he feels guilty, or more angry, both at your parents and himself for not catching on sooner. he doesn’t speak after you calm down ever so slightly, your head on his chest.
—> he feels even worse when he looks right at a scar, he immediately looks away though, he doesn’t find your scars disgusting or anything less right now? he just wants you to feel comfortable.
☀️ » 𝓚𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐥 ,
—> i think part of him already knows, kalim isn’t stupid he’s literally been kidnapped and suffered through god knows what, despite his suspicions much like jack he doesn’t push it, kalim just keeps up with his energetic self and only pushing you along with him while he does that.
—> he also catches on to how you react to when someone else mentions ‘home’ for you, don’t worry though he immediately swoops in and just pulls you into a hug while running away and saying he’s found something cool he wants to show you!
—> when you eventually break down, it’s just you and kalim luckily, jamil is in bed and he THOUGHT kalim was too, though despite that kalim instead called you round saying he was lonely and wanted to hear about your day.
—> in the end you are wrapped up in his arms, his smile is gone and he’s crying with you saying how you didn’t deserve any of it.
—> he probably tells Jamil in the morning about it, then goes onto say ‘don’t tell anyone!’
—> safe to say kalim feels really bad for you, after this day he’s instantly latched on to you more, because not only does he feel bad but he refuses to let you go home too, but that’s for jamil AND crowley to deal with.
🦁 » 𝓛𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫 ,
—> yeah he already caught on ages ago, but he wants to hear it from you straight up, he won’t push you to speak about what you home life is like; especially as he isn’t very good at talking about his own issues and knows exactly how it feels to be pushed to your breaking point.
—> he’s suspicions instantly get confirmed when your at the beach with him, your covered, which honestly is pretty insane to him, but he is fine with it up until he sees a glimpse of some old cut on your lower abdomen.
—> “hey herbivore, is there any reason you have that?” he asks, his eyes didn’t move from where he had just seen it despite you pulling your shirt down more, his tone is surprisingly gentle for a big lion himself.
—> you don’t answer, infact you bring your arms to your chest in an attempt to shield yourself. he notices, of course he notices.
—> “shouldn’t of brought it up should i?” he doesn’t ask, he knows he shouldn’t of but he wants you to reply or at least say something.
—> after a couple minutes of awkward silence he opens his mouth again but he is struck back on the floor while you cling on to him, your tears falling as you cried.
—> you told him it all, leaving no details out, he didn’t speak, didn’t move. but his grip around you tightened as you brought up abuse from them, you said it like it was a normal occurrence in your life back at home.
—> his heart broke, he wouldn’t say that though, well usually. but when you stopped talking and just whimpered, quietly ducking your head on his chest he spoke again, “herbs, i’m so sorry.” he leaned his head down, kissing your hair as you sniffed.
—> he probably threatened crowley, saying how you would live with him once nrc is complete, even if he gets held back again your still staying with him, he doesn’t give a fuck.
—> obviously before threatening crowley he asked you if that’s what you would like or if you want too, communication is key after all atleast that’s something he heard lilia say to sebek.
—> he doesn’t tell anyone, nope, it’s just between you both, he also doesn’t bring it up again, unless of course you do which he listens every time even if it’s just you repeating stuff.
—> if someone asks when you are going back home, he just puts his arm around your shoulders making them shut up, it’s his way of letting you know you aren’t and that you will be staying with him— he doesn’t really care what answer crowley gives.
ִ › ⦂ masterlist here — requests are still open
thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are appreciated.
Other parts: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie ; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver
Riddle Rosehearts
"Let’s break up."
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.
i was gonna write a 7 mins in heaven drabble w riddle then I saw that ppl thought of it ahead of me.. 😢😢 im such a chud i wont write it anymore, now i gotta go write for Jamil now 💔💔
Content. You start dating a guy (total NPC) and it's safe to say the other boys are jealous.
Wc. 5.3k
Would it be crazy that you’re vying for some rando’s love, regardless of the fact that there are 21 other men fighting for you? 21 others who would meet you at the drop of a pin? And you choose the loser who you’ve only talked to for a total of 10 seconds in your entire life?
Well, you don’t know what was going on behind closed doors so you can’t be the one at blame. But that’s why you were so oblivious to everything. From how passive aggressive they’ve been for the last few days and how avoidant they became over the topic of dating.
As much as you’d like to say it’s an exaggeration of some sort for dramatic effect, it really isn’t.
Somehow you don’t notice how much they try to get closer to you— physically or mentally. You also don’t notice how fast they respond to your every beck and call. You slowly start noticing because it feels off. Something just didn’t feel right.
But, on the bright side, you really did like him… in a way at least.
He was nice, attractive and financially well-off. He practically ticked all of your boxes.
The realisation hadn’t hit you on the fact that maybe you admired him a little bit more than just friends. You hadn’t noticed how you started staring at him for longer than usual, thinking about him more and then the thought clicked in your mind that maybe you started to like him.
It’s safe to say they did not like him. To them, he was nothing but an obstacle— a hindrance— but you thought he was everything. They saw the way your pupils dilate when he walks into the room. They notice how you get quiet and just watch him in awe for a solid second before snapping back to reality.
So they knew. They knew before the first time you mentioned this crush, which was at lunch when you were eating with the other first years.
There were hustles and bustles of people shifting around the cafeteria, people going over to sit down or throw away their trash. It was as lively as usual so you thought it would be a good time.
Key word: thought.
“Y’know, I think Atlas is pretty cute,” you suddenly mention.
They all go quiet, multiple pairs of skeptical gazes on you. Their moods almost seem to deflate right in front of you, if you were to actually notice it.
“What? I’m serious,” you emphasise. “He’s totally cute,”
“Atlas? What? Like the guy from Octavinelle?” Deuce clarifies, raising a brow, green eyes darting to you in confusion.
He knows he’s dumb and he sometimes can’t tell if you’re joking but he can’t be this dumb, right?
Oh, how he wishes you were joking.
“Yeah, and I was thinking if you guys could help me,” you add on, biting your lip as you fiddled with your food.
If you were able to read minds, you would know how much they are fighting to say ‘fuck no’ straight to your face.
“How?” Jack asked, ears perking up.
“I don’t know. Maybe you guys could talk to him, invite him to the table or whatnot and maybe I can get to know him better,” you respond, crossing your arms on the wooden table.
“Wouldn’t that be a little awkward?” Ace mentions, as if he even cares that much.
“Not if you don’t make it awkward,” you reply with a little too much sass than you intended originally. “And I think it’ll be beneficial to start joining the dating game since we’re all technically adults.”
“Sure, I guess,” Epel murmurs.
“I think that sounds amazing [name]!” Ortho’s the only one who seems excited by your announcement. And he’s also the only one that’s willing to stay with you for longer than 5 minutes.
You were on the grassy field with him, disappointedly eating your apple with such roughness that your teeth threatened to fall off. The frustration had started to colonise your mind. You didn’t know everything would just go so horribly so quickly, and furthermore, you didn’t even know why.
They avoided you as if you were the plague, like a disease that nobody wanted to touch. But you’re not. If you were, you would know and at least understand but you’re not.
Venting to Ortho helped a lot with the pain. He was so sweet and caring. Maybe because he can’t necessarily experience jealousy.
“I-I just don’t know; it’s like I did something that upset everyone,” you say, sighing to yourself as you picked at the core of the apple. “Why do men have to be so confusing? It’s like everyday there’s something new and I don’t know what’s going on— I never do.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around soon!” He’s so cheerful when he says it that it makes you pause.
…Does he know? He sounds sure. Too sure.
“What do you mean by that?” you tilt your head and give him a perplexed expression, almost accusing him of something.
He panics.
“Uh, I meant— they’re going to get out of this phase! Yeah! That’s what I meant!” His tone is shaky and you can see the fear rushing through his robotic wires. He floats backwards and says, “I’ll get going now! I think Idia is calling me!”
His robotic frame gets smaller the more he walks away before ultimately disappearing from your line of vision.
You sit uncomfortably on the grass, feeling the sharp prickles of the blades stab at your thigh. Well, that wasn’t weird at all…
—
The next day feels the same. No one stops for you. No one speaks to you.
At lunch, you end up eating alone. The room isn’t quiet but it feels like it is, save for the hushed murmurs and the occasional glance your way. You pretend not to notice, like it isn’t making you go crazy.
At this point, everyone knows that something is up, whether it’s from just observing you or from gossip that’s spread like wildfire.
You’re not even sure who the leak is and why they could possibly want to out you like this, but somehow, a huge chunk of the student body knows about your silly little crush. So it didn’t take long for your actual crush to know.
It makes you uneasy. However, no one’s mentioned it directly to your face… not until you receive a message.
It’s the housewarden of Savanaclaw that decides to dip himself into the waters to test it.
[Leona]: so, how’s it going with that guy?
[You]: It’s been going fine. I really do think it might work out.
[Leona]: …do you?
[You]: Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?
[Leona]: Hm.
[You]: What’s that supposed to mean?
[Leona]: Nothing. Just doesn’t sound very convincing.
[You]: And you’d know?
[Leona]: I’ve heard people in arranged marriages sound more convincing than you. You should learn from them.
[You]: I didn’t ask for your opinion.
[Leona]: didn’t say you did, but you’re still trying to prove it to me anyway.
That one sends you over the edge.
[You]: I know what I feel. And what I feel is love.
[Leona]: …sure, keep telling yourself that, herbivore.
The attitude was so palpable, even through the damn screen you felt it. You don’t know what’s gotten with everyone but you don’t like it. From the way they start to divert their gazes to being seemingly more impatient.
When you used to ask Ace to hang out, he’d always be there for you but all of a sudden he’s always busy, despite not caring for academics. It’s the same with almost everyone from the first years, second years and even the third years.
Even Kalim, the epitome of sunshine, seems a bit destroyed. The ones you thought would’ve at least been there like Lilia, Trey and Malleus were all gone. Actually, some still didn’t mind spending time with you, but it was awkward— tenser than the usual, effortless conversations that used to flow naturally.
Then, you come across Atlas in the hallways and he stops you.
“[Name], I heard…” he trails. “And I was just thinking that maybe we can have a date on the weekends?”
The request blows your mind. What do you even say to that? Do you kneel and beg for marriage? Or do you just stand there?
Nonetheless, you keep your composure and act like this isn’t totally life changing. “Yes, absolutely, just text me the place and time.” You smile politely.
“I need your phone number then,” he pulls out his phone and you two exchange numbers swiftly to prevent blocking the hallway for too long.
You try not to break out in happy tears as you hug your device to your chest, because you feel that maybe there is some ounce of hope for you in the future of your love life.
—
Taking a sharp inhale, your knuckle taps on Vil’s door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Then, with a soft click opens the door, you see him in all his glory.
“Vil, can you please help me pick a dress for my date?” you interlock your hands together to beg, puppy eyes gracing your face.
He’s reluctant, but he says yes anyway since he can’t reject you.
The process was strenuous. It was no, after no, after no, after no. Almost every dress felt like it wasn’t approved by both parties.
You came out with what felt like the millionth dress, which was for some reason, latex. It was tight but hugged your curves enough to flaunt it. Regardless of the fact that Atlas might like it, you definitely didn’t— it just way too tight and felt suffocating.
“What about this one?” You look at yourself in the mirror.
“That’s… no,” he replies, trying to cover the blush on his face. He gets closer to you, adjusting the hem and neckline, fingers lightly hovering over your skin.
Then you tried a few more on and found the perfect one. It was comfortable enough for long wear and proper enough.
“I think this is the best option,” you say.
“Probably, do you want me to do your make up as well?” he offers, opening his make up bag full of expensive brands that would normally cost you an arm & leg. For him, it’s probably just pocket change though.
You were all dolled up— wearing the dress you’ve spent a boatload of money on and the makeup that was applied using Vil’s expertise and expensive tools.
There’s a deep, gnawing pit in the blonde boy’s stomach as he tries his best to not crash out. He knows the feeling of jealousy but this was something different. Envy? Anger?
He clenches his jaw while the blank expression in his optics blur. His mind trails into dreamland where you’re not skipping off happily into another man’s arms, but into his. He’s the one that hugs you and touches you and kisses you, not some loser from Octavinelle.
But it’s not. He wakes up to the same reality he dreads everyday where you’re not his.
—
The date goes smoothly, with you finally having your first kiss with him and learning more about each other. Apparently, he enjoys practically everything you do— a match made in heaven. He watches the same shows, listens to the same music, and has the same taste in food.
Leaves crunch under your heels, skies dark, humming to yourself in satisfactory success, you accidentally trip over a sleeping body, leading you to fall forward and land on top of the perpetrator.
“I-I’m so sorry!” You were quick to get up, hardly noticing who you’ve bumped into.
“What the— don’t worry about it herbivore,” he changes his tone as soon as he realises who you were.
“Leona?” You look at him.
“Herbivore?” there’s a smirk on his face. “How was your date with that… guy?”
He cringes.
“It went great and I think it might actually be… official?” you answer, a twinge of excitement intertwined.
The rolls of his eyes don't go unmissed. “Are you really sure this is what you want, herbivore?” Leona asks, unconvinced.
“Yes!”
He grumbles.
“Leona! I— are you jealous?” You snort, the word comes out acidic but unavoidable.
He grunts. “So what if I am?” he spits back, voice a little harsher than before.
This makes you tilt your head. Fuck. That’s when everything clicked for you. You’re so stupid.
“Leona, I-I’m sorry…” you step back.
“Huh, you’re starting to get it now,” he clicks his tongue, watching as the realization seeps into your pores.
“B-but why?” You query.
“You can figure that out,” he leaves the room, allowing you to sit in your own thoughts.
It takes your slow brain a while to comprehend everything.
That’s when you decided to confront each dorm. Even though you technically don’t know who’s at fault. But logically, it’s not fair if they’re so upset by something like this. They don’t have to be your everything.
First was Heartslabyul, where Ace & Deuce usually were at this ime.
hour but it was Riddle who opened the door for you. You hate the disappointed look in his eyes but you’ve gotta stand your ground too.
“Riddle, can we talk?” you plead.
He stares you up and down, his soft features beaming under the light. It makes you realise how gorgeous he actually was. But you snap out of it.
It’s not the time.
“Sure, come in,” he answers, opening the door wider for you.
You let yourself in, spotting Ace & Deuce playing poker together, Cater scrolling on magicam, and Trey baking something of some sorts— the wafts of baked goods coming in soft waves.
Turning around, you grab Riddle’s hand and squeeze it tightly. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
His ears perk up. “For?”
“Y’knoww…” you bite your lip. “Forr dating Atlas since I know you don’t approve of him.”
That’s the moment before everything goes south. The conversation started to falter when more parties started to get involved.
“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have gone on a date with him!” Ace debates.
“But I didn’t know and it’s my life, I deserve to live it how I want,” you argue.
“Yes but you’re our friend, [name].” He says. “I-I don’t want to lose you,”
“Ace, I’m not dying! I’m just going on a few dates with this guy and—” you start raising your voice higher in hopes that he’s going to understand.
He cuts you off. “But you’ve been ditching us so much lately,”
“Because you’re avoiding me?” you question.
“We have not. We try to talk to you but you’re stuck thinking about him in your own thoughts,” Deuce adds.
You dislike how they’re pinning the blame on you despite the fact that they’ve been doing exactly what they accuse you of doing. The hypocrisy makes you reel.
“I know you’re jealous but seriously, I want to live my own life outside of you guys… I’m sorry,” you shake your head in disbelief.
“Ace, that’s enough,” Trey scolds.
“Aww, it was just getting good!” Cater whines, finally looking up from the screen.
“Cater,” Riddle calls him out, causing him to immediately shut up.
“I-I just came here to tell you guys that I’m thinking about making it official with him and—” you explain, only to be cut off by an annoyed Ace.
“There you go again!” his brows furrow, jaw tightening. He soon storms off and slams the door behind him, sending all the furniture shaking. “It’s like you don’t even listen!” his yells can still be heard.
“You guys can’t be this jealous,” you shake your head, plopping down onto the cushions of the couch.
“[Name], I really do think you should reconsider,” Riddle’s voice is stern when he talks.
“Hey, it’s her life,” Trey supports you.
They all look at him in betrayal. They swore he was not on your side.
“Thank you!” You say, gratefulness eminent in your words.
“But I really do think you should rethink this,” Trey opposes his previous statement. “There’s better out there,”
His tone is warm, loving even. He truly does care about you and doesn’t want to just let you make choices that you’ll regret.
“Yeah, I can’t imagine you betraying me for someone else,” Cater hugs you, the heat of proximity radiating from his body onto yours.
Maybe they’re right. It might not be the best time to start dating and the pool is vast. There’s so much more to life than this and if dating this guy means sacrificing your entire friends list, maybe it’s not worth it.
You’re conflicted.
The walk to Savanaclaw was stressful. Mind racing like formula cars in the last lap, switching between your relationship or your friends. This only leads your trepidation to increase. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as there’s no telling what the future may hold.
“Hey [name]! How’s your relationship going?” The hyena boy’s voice is cheery as he greets you. “Are ya’ here to see Jack?”
“No, I, kinda?” you stutter, not able to make coherent sentences. “Listen, I’m just asking for some input before my relationship with you-know-who escalates.”
Your approach is different.
“My input?” disbelief washes over his face.
“Yeah,” you confirm.
He thinks with a hand on his chin as if he’s in a cartoon. “I don’t really think you should date at all y’know. Maybe you should wait until like graduation or something.” His hands go outwards into a shrug. “But it’s all up to you! After all, it’s not just my business. Hope this guy’s really worth the time though,”
He flees the scene, light footsteps as he disappears into the dark.
The last part of his speech lingers in the back of your mind. Nonetheless, meeting Ruggie was so much more refreshing than you thought. It was nice to meet someone who had a more positive outlook on life despite totally rejecting your relationship in its entirety.
Jack’s eyes dart from you onto the ground. He pretends as if he doesn’t see you, only worsening the growing guilt inside you.
“Jack, it’s been a while,” you start the conversation. “How are you?”
He breathes. “Good, what do you need?”
The shift in his words are a tell-tale sign. The ‘good’ seems forced, as if it’s far from what he’s showing.
“I just wanted to ask you if you approve of my relationship with Atlas, since not many of you do apparently…” explained by you.
He puts down the book he was reading, or at least looking at. “I think it’s fine,”
“What?”
“Yeah but I don’t know what he’s like so I can’t tell you if I approve or not,” he pauses. “But if he does anything, please tell me,”
It makes your heart melt.
“Thanks Jack
It’s like they all have the same script (like that stupid AI study tool ads by college students). You would’ve spoken to Leona, but he was nowhere to be seen so you just decided to leave it and continue onto the next dorm.
He would’ve said something like: “do whatever you want, but don’t come crying if something goes wrong,” and you don’t really feel like dealing with the guilt trip.
Octavinelle, alone, was one of the worst experiences mainly because of Floyd.
He’d been so obviously rampaging everywhere and anywhere, seeing you only made it worse. At this point, the
“Ehh Shrimpy, what’re you doing here?” he moans with an absolute look of despair. “Don’t you have a date to get to?”
“Not anymore, but I do want to ask you about it,” you answer calmly, hoping it’ll be reflected onto him or something.
“Yer’ literally ditching us for lower class octavinelle guy, he’s ooo boooorringg like there’s better in this dorm ya’ know?” he holds his neck with that terrifying glare that drills holes into you.
You opened your mouth to speak.
Then, Azul appears with Jade from the dark. “Hmm… what is this about?” he is beaming, hands behind his back like he’s some sort of master from a martial arts movie.
“I was just gonna ask your guys’ opinion on Atlas… before I date him officially or something,” you mumble.
That seems to be enough to calm Floyd down.
“Well, why didn’t ya’ say so Shrimpy?!” he cheers, going over to give you a tight squeeze… that knocks all the oxygen out of your lungs.
Luckily, it’s only brief so you’re dropped very soon, left to choke on air.
“That’s good to hear,” the corner of Jade’s lips tug. “I do hope he’s suitable for you if you do choose him.”
“Yes, but I don’t think that’s happening if a majority of everyone disagrees,” you state.
The blue-haired boy fights back the smirk. “Very well, then I don’t think you need our input.”
“Well, I might need more than just a simple yes or no,” you add.
Jade and Azul exchanged a brief glance, but it’s Floyd who speaks first.
“I just don’t wanna share you, Shrimpy~” Floyd reasons, hands wrapped around your waist to give you a back hug and his head resting atop yours.
You facepalm, sighing. “That can’t be your reason, Floyd.”
“Well it is,” he giggles, nuzzling his nose into your neck.
“If this individual brings you benefits then I see no issue,” Azul claims. “But I do wonder what he has that makes him so special.”
You sigh for the umpteenth time. “He’s nice, shares the same interests with me and pretty well-off so…”
“How interesting, I didn’t know that was your type but I do hope he is worthy of your attention,” Jade forces a grin.
“But he’s soo boring. Just dump him,” Floyd groans, feeling a bit upset that his twin and boss aren’t convincing you to ditch him.
“Well, thanks guys, I’ll get going now…” you pry off the eel’s arms and dash out the door.
They stared as you ran off, murmuring amongst themselves that you have no idea if you want to hear or not.
Now you’re off to Scarabia. The first thing you saw as soon as you stepped past the threshold was Jamil cooking in the kitchen, seemingly pretty occupied by something.
“Jamil?” you peep past the wall.
He turns his head. “[Name]...”
“May I come in?” you ask.
“Yeah, but Kalim’s been pretty upset recently so I’m not sure if he can—” he starts talking again, only for you to interrupt.
“That’s exactly why I’m here. I don’t think everyone exactly agrees with me and I just wanted to know what everyone thought about it.” You answer.
“Do you even know him that well? How do you know he’s not lying?” Jamil asks, expertly cutting the vegetables on the board. “Why are you even asking me this?”
The question comes out passive-aggressive. You don’t know if he actually meant it that way or what but frankly, you feel offended that he would ask such a thing.
“Jamil, I hold you very dear to me and I can’t just let something like this get between us,” you get closer to him.
He takes a deep breath. “It’s none of my business and it’s your life,”
You hate how he avoids your gaze— how he refuses to just spare you a glance. So, out of pure frustration and anger, you grab his wrists and force him to look you in your eyes.
“Jamil, you’re precious to me. What don’t you understand about it? I love you,”
His heart thumps louder. “Of course I’m upset.” He finally admits. “I don’t like seeing you with him.
Well, that’s out of the way. That’s 12 votes against you and Atlas. Only 9 more to go! At this point you probably should’ve given up on hoping for at least 1 person to agree with you. Not just saying that it’s your life, but also on the whole relationship itself.
You offered Jamil to deliver Kalim’s food since it seemed appropriate at the time and you owed the vice-housewarden some grace.
Kalim’s defeated. Stumped. Dejected.
There’s barely enough words to describe how he barely has enough energy to move and his eyes are blood-shot red.
“Why are you ditching us for him? I miss you a lot, [name].” Kalim says in between his sobs and sniffles.
“We can still hang out,” you say empathetically. “Hey, I’ll stop talking to him if it bothers you so much,”
“Really? I-I thought it was gonna be okay but I don’t like you with him,” you can hear the pain in his throat as he spoke.
“Very well then,” was the last thing you said before departing to Pomefiore.
Rook hid in the trees, waiting for you, knowing that you were coming. He immediately jumped out from seemingly nowhere and greeted you, making you jump.
“Bonjour trickster! What brings you here today?” The blonde asks.
“GAH— ROOK! You can’t just come outta nowhere and scare me like that!” You scold him, pinching your nose bridge in disappointment. “But, I was here to ask if you would support me dating Atlas?”
“Absolutely! Love is a magnificent force… yet I do wonder, does he truly see your beauty in all its glory?” He twists the sentence to bring your hopes up to break it all down in an instant.
“He does, thank you very much,” you say sarcastically.
“Will you be staying here for long? I do not mind sharing a bed with you!” He excitedly says.
“No, I’m sorry but I’m only here to check up on everyone,” you respond, before saying your goodbyes and rushing to Epel’s room.
There’s a soft whisper of “to think someone stands in where I wish to be…” from him as soon as you’re out of earshot.
Epel’s probably one of the more furious ones— you can see it in his soft features but he tries his best not to.
“So… what do you think?” you ask.
“You could do way better than him y’know,” Epel says. “He’s not the only one that can make ya’ happy,”
“I know, I know.” You repeat. “Do you know where Vil is… since I need to talk to him about this as well,”
“He’s out doing some shoot,” Epel replies, short and firm.
“Oh…” you blink. “Alright, I’ll get going then.”
Idia’s the one you’re most neutral about. He’s frightened and annoyed all in one emotion. He’s made peace with the fact that you’re not his to claim but annoyed with you for not noticing… or for him not trying.
He opens the door only by a bit— enough to see tiny parts of you and for the sound to come through.
“[N-name], what are you here for?” He speaks in a terrified tone.
“Idia, can we talk?” Your voice comes from the other side.
He swore the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his blue hair flared dramatically.
“A-about what?” His sentences are executed in short stutters.
“Let me in then I’ll tell you,” something in your tone is sharp and condescending that scares Idia even more, but it works…
He opens the door wider with reluctance.
“W-what do you want to talk about?” He asks, retreating back to his gaming chair, watching you carefully.
“I wanted to talk about my relationship with Atlas,” you explain yourself.
“Oh, right. Your boyfriend. Good for you,” he mutters.
“Not yet my boyfriend,” you correct him.
“Cool,” he replies, only building the awkwardness more.
“Do you approve? Cus it seems to me like you don’t,” you state.
He feels the pressure you’re exerting onto him. “Uh— I mean… it’s not like I care about who you hang out with or—”
Your patience wears thin. “Cut the crap Idia. Just tell me if you’re upset or not,”
“Y-yeah, I am… I guess,” his words are soft and almost missed but you heard it.
With every dorm, it felt like your whole world shattered and collapsed onto you. So far, only Rook seemed to be the only one that might’ve accepted it, while the rest were more… in disbelief.
Lastly, Diasomnia seemed to be the most daunting one to overcome. Despite your fear of Malleus being relatively low, you’re kinda risking Atlas’s life.
Jealousy does not suit them, but there’s still a nagging question in your mind that wonders if they’re actually looking out for you or trying to keep you for themselves.
The first one you spotted was Sebek, training casually in the yard, sweating buckets as he continuously struck the mannequin with his sword.
“Hey,” you walked from behind, startling him.
“HUMAN!” He jumps back, spinning on his heel and ready to attack, but he’s quick to halt as soon as he notices it’s you. “WHAT DO YOU NEED, HUMAN?”
“You can stop screaming Sebek,” you glare at him with uninterested eyes. “Anyways, I really need to ask you something.”
“What is it?” He calms down.
“Do you think me and Atlas make a cute couple?” You ask.
“That human is untrustworthy!” He whisper-screams. “Do not be with him!”
“Oh geez, okay…” you hadn’t expected him to be so straight-forward but it’s Sebek so you should’ve known better.
“I think you can do better!” He states as a matter of fact.
“Like…?” You raise a brow.
He blushes. “LIKE— LIKE— MALLEUS!” He yells.
“Woah,” your mouth is left agape.
“I-I MEAN YOUR STANDARDS SHOULD BE MALLEUS!” Panic rises in his voice.
“Yep, I got it the first time,” you say. “I’m gonna go find Silver now,”
“OKAY,”
Honestly, you forgot how overstimulatingly loud Malleus’s biggest simp can be.
Silver was the next person you wanted to interview, despite the fact that he’s probably sound asleep somewhere.
He was, true to your word, asleep peacefully on the ground. Your footsteps are light as you tried to prevent him waking up, but he catches it anyway and starts to wake up.
“[Name]...” he groans.
“Silver?” You turn around, quick to rush over to him and kneel to his level. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, but what are you doing here?” he blinks awake.
“I wanted to ask what you think of me dating this guy… his name is Atlas and,” you pause.
“I know, and if it makes you happy, then I approve.” Silver says.
“Thanks Silver,” you pat him before walking away.
He seemed… disingenuous? It plagued your mind for a good few seconds until the mischievous black-pink haired man decided to jumpscare you.
“LILIA!” you screamed.
“Hahaha! What’s up, [name]? Boy, do I miss your adorable, surprised face,” he’s smiling ear to ear.
“I-I’m glad you missed me… especially since you’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper the last part.
“I haven’t, or maybe I have. Anyways, what are you here for?” He shoots the same question that everybody’s asked.
You explain. Again.
“Does he make you happy?” A more mature side of him comes out, showing the centuries of experience he has.
“He does,” your response does not warrant the most positive reaction from him.
“Be careful with who you hang out with, not everyone is worth your time,” he grins, pretending he didn’t say the most puzzling sentence in history.
Malleus wasn’t far away
“You seem happy with him,” hornton replies.
You press your lips into a thin line. “I am, but I won’t be if everyone objects,”
“I cannot lie that I wasn’t hoping it would be different,” Malleus states.
“What do you mean?” You tilt your head.
“I would’ve preferred if you chose someone else, child of man.” He elucidates.
Walking out of the final dorm, you let out an exhausted breath of air, not realising how suffocating the day had gone. Amongst the crunches of the leaves beneath you lies the sound of a notification from your phone.
[Atlas]: hey, i’m sorry but i think this is not gonna work out…
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
so i completely dumped my rottmnt draft to write abt jamil and riddle 👀👀👀 7 minutes in heaven and a self indulgent drabble abt jamil.. sorry guys im so gay and horny (ive been quoting ts for days bro i love my friends)
WOAH WOAH WOAH WAOH HELLO?? GUYS IGNORE MY UGLY WIP PINNED POST I SWEAR IM A WRITER OF FANFICS I JUST HAVE AN UGLY BLOG RN 💔💔 also HIIIIIIII OMG MY FIRST TWST MOOT??
۪۪۪. ͝ 𓏪̣̣ ֺ ⎯ ﹙ HIYAAAAA luv ur blog I don't think it's ugly :) IM GLAD WE'RE MOOTS FEEL FREE TO DM ME OR TALK TO ME ANY TIME NEWOOMFIE ur rlly cool! ﹚
ACKK YAYAYAYYA!! HIII IM SO EXCITED TO MEET YOU IM FRANKIE!! im so happy to make a twst moot im lowk newgen to this fandom 💔💔 i blame my bsf she got me hooked like a drug
𑣲𝒇rᥲᥒ𝗸ie͟⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱ @otakuugiirl - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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