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 @
✦Sleeping and cuddling at night is good… until the heat making you sweat and suffer
✦(I can’t sleep because of this fucking heat… I hate summer)
Leona Kingscholar
You were sweating. Suffering, actually.
The Savanaclaw night was already thick and warm, and having Leona sprawled on top of you, his head resting heavily on your stomach, arms wrapped around your waist like you were his personal body pillow made it ten times worse.
You tried to push him off. Useless. He was too heavy. You shook him gently. “Leona… get off me.”
He only grumbled a low “no” without even opening his eyes.
You sighed. “It’s too hot.”
“It’s not” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. Easy for him to say he’d grown up in this kind of heat.
“I’m sweating.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
“My pajama shirt is going to be completely drenched by morning.”
Leona cracked one eye open just long enough to give a lazy, smug suggestion “Then take it off.”
That earned a soft growl from you. He just smirked against your stomach and tightened his hold.
In the end, you gave up. Leona was impossible. You grumbled under your breath about getting an air conditioner installed in his room before you finally drifted back to sleep, still trapped under him.
Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie was hugging you from behind, face buried in your hair, sleeping peacefully.
At least he was sleeping peacefully.
You were suffering under the hot night and his body heat. You tried to crawl away a little. He pulled you right back. You tried again. Same result. Again and again.
Eventually your squirming woke him up. He whined softly into your neck. “Whatcha doin’…?”
“It’s really hot…” you whispered. “I’m getting all sweaty and gross.”
Ruggie just nuzzled closer, still half asleep. “Don’t mind. Just gives you a little extra flavoring.”
“Ew! Gross!” You tried to push him away.
He laughed quietly, the sound vibrating against your back. “Kidding, kidding. Fine, I’ll move so you don’t complain in the morning.”
He scooted back just enough to give you some breathing room… but his feet stayed tangled with yours the entire night.
That much you can tolerate.
Jack Howl
You loved Jack. Every single part of him.
But right now you were seriously considering cutting all the fur off his tail.
It wasn’t enough that this huge, living, breathing oven was big spooning you, his fluffy, heavy tail was draped over you too. You felt like you were melting straight into the mattress. Trying to escape from under his arms was completely useless, so instead you carefully turned around in his hold until you were face to face with him.
You gave him a gentle shake. “Jack…”
His eyes opened slowly, still full of sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” you said softly. “I’m just really hot. I’m melting under you.”
Jack’s ears instantly flattened. A deep blush spread across his face as he immediately shifted away, giving you space. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
You smiled and thanked him. A quiet minute passed. Then, very shyly, he asked “…Can I still hold your hand?”
You melted all over again, this time for a completely different reason. You took his hand. His fingers laced with yours, warm and careful. The two of you fell asleep just like that, holding hands in the dark.
Kalim Al-Asim
You thought Scarabia would be cooler at night.
You were so, so wrong.
It was just as hot. And your lovely boyfriend was all over you, face buried in your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, one leg thrown over yours as he happily claimed the role of little spoon. Kalim was completely content, breathing softly against your skin.
You carefully peeled his limbs off one by one and crawled a little away. It worked… for maybe ten minutes. Then you felt the bed shift. Kalim crawled right back over, draping his warm limbs around you again and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Why’re you leaving me…?” he mumbled sleepily.
“I’m not leaving” you whispered. “I’m just really hot and sweating.”
Kalim pouted against your neck. “But I love cuddling with you… I sleep better this way…”
You sighed. “I can’t sleep because of how hot it is.”
There was a short, sad silence. Then, with the most pitiful puppy dog eyes, Kalim scooted away and gave you space. “…Can we at least lock pinkies?” he asked softly.
You smiled and nodded. The two of you fell back to sleep with your pinkies linked.
Sometime later you woke up to find Kalim hugging you again, he had crawled back subconsciously in his sleep. You stared at the ceiling and made a firm mental note
Tomorrow, you were making him buy an air conditioner for this room.
Jamil Viper
This was pure torture.
You loved these rare moments when Jamil was completely relaxed and defenseless, your face buried in his chest, his arms holding you close, his breathing slow and even. Moments like this were precious.
But why did this dorm have to be hot as hell?
You were suffering in his embrace. No matter how much you enjoyed the closeness, you needed to survive the heat.
You gently shook him. “Jamil… can you move a little?”
He raised a sleepy eyebrow without opening his eyes. “Why?”
“I’m suffocating under your body heat.”
Jamil didn’t say anything. He simply shifted away, giving you space. You were about to thank him when you noticed he had turned his back to you.
Oh, come on!
You whined quietly. “Not everyone grew up in the desert heat, you know.”
He just shrugged, still facing away. “Skill issue.”
This man and his sass.
You flopped back onto the bed with a huff and grabbed the back of his shirt, holding onto the fabric as you closed your eyes. That was as much contact as you could handle right now.
Sometime later, when he thought you were fully asleep, Jamil quietly turned back around. He watched your sleeping face for a moment, then carefully laced his fingers with yours before letting himself drift off again.
I saw your kalim story and thought it was really cute!
May I request the first years + Vil for a yuu!reader with glasses who is a total (gn)failure, clumsy and awkward. Then one day while carrying books they trip and face plant, breaking their glasses. When they look up, they look completely different, like those scenes in anime where there’s roses framing their face and such.
I didnt see a character limit but if there is then just write for the characters you want ^^ thank youu!
“ What a crappy anime plot! ”
Featuring: First years (+ Vil, - Ortho)
A/N: woah thanks for the compliment 😳😳 got me blushing over here fr fr🤭🤭 hope u enjoy this teehee.....
Ace Trappola
ace is absolutely the worst person for this to happen in front of. one second he's walking with you while making fun of your latest embarrassing mishap, and the next you're carrying a stack of books, trip over absolutely nothing, and face-plant directly into the pavement. naturally, ace starts laughing immediately. "pfft—yuu! how do you even—" then you sit up. the broken glasses slide off your face. you look up. ace stops. mid-sentence. mid-breath. mid-thought. suddenly the sunlight catches your eyes, your hair falls perfectly around your face, and somehow roses may as well be blooming in the background. ace just stares. the laughter dies instantly. "huh?" he blinks. once. twice. then several more times because surely he's hallucinating. this is the prefect. disaster magnet prefect. yet somehow without the glasses, you look like the secret love interest from a romance manga. the worst part is that ace immediately becomes weird afterward. he keeps staring. then looking away. then staring again, face flushed red. when deuce asks what's wrong, ace just points at you and goes, "they were hiding that this whole time??"
Deuce Spade
deuce's soul leaves his body. that's the only way to describe it. he rushes over the second you fall because unlike ace, his first instinct is concern. "yuu! are you okay?!" then you lift your head. deuce freezes so hard he nearly joins you on the ground. for a solid five seconds he completely forgets why he ran over in the first place. you ask if he's alright and somehow that makes things worse. because now he's looking directly into your eyes instead of your glasses, even though it's not much of a difference. the poor guy turns bright red almost instantly. he starts stammering. then apologizing. then stammering about apologizing. meanwhile, you're sitting there confused because all you did was break your glasses. deuce spends the rest of the day acting like he accidentally witnessed a divine revelation. every time he looks at you, he remembers the dramatic anime sparkles and immediately short-circuits.
Jack Howl
jack genuinely doesn't understand why everyone else is freaking out. you trip. you fall. your glasses break. that's unfortunate. then you look up and jack's brain briefly stops working. not because of the dramatic reveal itself, but because he suddenly realizes he's never actually paid attention to what you'd look like without your glasses. the realization catches him completely off guard. one moment he's helping you pick up books, the next he's staring a little too long before quickly looking away. jack is normally very straightforward, but suddenly he's struggling to form complete sentences. "you uh..." pause. "you look..." another pause. "different." smooth, jack. very smooth. the funniest part is that he genuinely thinks you're the same person you've always been. yet somehow seeing you without your glasses makes him notice things he somehow overlooked before. he spends the rest of the day silently wondering how everyone managed to miss this.
Epel Felmier
epel immediately thinks this is some kind of magic curse. that's genuinely his first assumption. one second you're yuu. the next you've transformed into the protagonist of a romance anime. he literally points at you and goes, "w—what happened to yer face?!" vil is not pleased when he hears this description later. once epel recovers from the initial shock, he becomes deeply offended. "so yer tellin' me ya looked like that the whole time?!" the betrayal is personal. the fact that you didn't even know what everyone was freaking out about somehow makes it worse. epel ends up spending the entire day arguing with people who suddenly start noticing you. "y'all had eyes this whole time!!"
Sebek Zigvolt
the sound sebek makes cannot be described using human language. one moment he's loudly lecturing someone—most likely you, the next he hears a crash and turns around to see you sprawled on the ground. concern immediately takes over. then your glasses fall off. you look up. sebek forgets every word in his vocabulary. this is especially impressive considering how many words he usually has. for perhaps the first time in recorded history, sebek zigvolt is silent. completely silent. the image burns itself directly into his memory. sunlight. bright eyes. slightly messy hair. the dramatic shining aura that seems to appear from nowhere. he looks away so quickly he nearly gives himself whiplash. unfortunately, everyone notices. "s—sebek?" silence. "sebek?" more silence. the man is fighting for his life.
Vil Schoenheit
vil is the only person who isn't surprised. annoyed? yes. surprised? no. the second your glasses break and everyone in the area that happens to notice starts acting like they've discovered a hidden treasure, vil pinches the bridge of his nose. "finally," he says. you stare at him. everyone else stares at him. vil looks genuinely exasperated. "did none of you notice?" apparently not. the thing is, vil has always known you were attractive. the glasses never hid it. people simply got so distracted by your awkwardness and constant disasters that they stopped paying attention. while everyone else is busy having a collective crisis, vil is standing there feeling vindicated. "i've been saying this for months." the funniest part is that once the initial chaos settles, he immediately starts helping you pick out a new pair of glasses. because according to vil, your old ones did absolutely nothing for your face shape. while everyone else is still recovering from the revelation, vil has already moved on to giving you fashion advice. priorities. just... don't comment on the slight red dusting his cheeks everytime he looks at you.
thinking about jade and how he always walks up to you from behind and rests his hands on your waist and kisses the back of your neck, so gently that it tickles and it leaves you giggling softly and squealing. squirming in his arms and he smiles against your skin. he loves you so much.
Ace gets jealous in the most obvious way - no matter how much he denies it. Even before you started officially dating, he'd get all moody and defensive when someone else made you laugh a little too hard for his liking, making an obvious show of walking over and holding you from behind to rest his head on your shoulder, ignoring your confused expression to aim a sharp smile at whoever is taking up all your attention. He just gets worse after you get together, now on top of him obviously showing off your relationship, you end up having to comfort a grumbling ace (and laugh at his jokes more, his pride can't take it otherwise).
Being one of the most jealous, but also the most nervous, means Idia is forced to watch you interact with normies, who can actually socialise, through the cameras. It only makes him all the more jealous that he can't do anything about it, he's holed up in his room all day and as much as he might feel the urge to swoop in and steal you away like some shoujo protagonist, he'd really rather not leave his dorm. Don't get him wrong though, he'll still grumble and sulk about the fact you spend so much time with 'normal' people. His only solution is to practically smother you when you leave the real world to join him in his digital cave. Despite the fact his hair flares pink at the ends, he'll tug you into his lap while he games or let you smear as many affectionate kisses to his scarlet cheeks as you want to make up for all the jealousy he feels in your absence.
When Malleus gets jealous, it suddenly becomes everyone's problem. Spend just a little too much time hanging out with Ace and Deuce? He's now sulking outside of your window at ramshackle like a jilted lover - in the middle of torrential rain no less, ignoring the fact he was the one who caused it. He shows up at your lessons to stand waiting outside the door, hiding the tiniest smirk when your terrified classmates scuttle away at the sight of him, meaning he can press a chivalrous kiss to the inside of your wrist and whisk you away before anyone else gets the chance. He's reluctant to rudely interrupt when someone is stealing all your attention, but that doesn't mean he won't stand in the distance with a frown resembling that of a neglected puppy, at least until you desert your company to smooth the crease between his brows away.
Epel likes to pretend he doesn't get jealous - even as he practically turns green when someone has the audacity to even speak to you, let alone flirt. It's worse when they're both taller and more 'manly' looking than him - he can't help but feel a little insecure - which ends up manifesting in him running over and practically lifting you into his arms, shouting something about how his partner doesn't need a 6ft beastman when they have him. He'll feel embarrassed later, but that all goes away when you tell him he's the only man for you - and maybe reassure him about how strong he is. (Yes he is that easy).
Less jealous, more territorial, Leona doesn't hesitate to drag you away from whoever you're talking to if he so feels like it. It doesn't bother him to be rude, you're his mate, that gives his presence priority above all others really. You never seem to mind anyway, giggling at how possessive he can be sometimes despite the fact you two have been official for long enough that its obvious you're not going anywhere. Still, like the lion he is, he takes his sweet time biting and marking you in the most visible places - just so any herbivore who thinks they can get close knows exactly who they're challenging, if the scent of him clinging to you wasn't a clear enough message.
Jamil gets jealous more often than you'd think, he's just adept enough at regulating his emotions that he never lets it show. He's too busy to play the hero every time someone talks to you and even if he was, that's a little too unhealthy for his tastes. Instead he'll settle for watching from afar, secretly grinning to himself every time he sees you recoil after a poorly worded comment from another student lands wrong or, even better, when you ditch your current company to go see what he's doing instead. It's a little petty, but who would know?
A/N: sigh twst my 1 true love… also I will not be apologising for the person I become when twst s2 comes out 😛
confessing that you came from another world was already difficult. confessing that he was technically a character in a game from that world felt infinitely worse. the moment the words left your mouth, azul simply stared at you from across the mostro lounge bar table, his expression becoming more bewildered with every sentence. trying to explain twisted wonderland as a mobile game was hard enough. trying to explain that you had downloaded said game before ever arriving here was somehow even more embarrassing. by the time you admitted that you already knew who he was before meeting him, you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. azul, meanwhile, had gone unusually quiet. at first, he focused on the practical details. how could an entire world exist as a game? how did it work? why him specifically? yet the more you explained, the quieter he became. eventually, you made the mistake of admitting that he had always been one of your favorite characters. the reaction was immediate. azul froze. completely. for a moment, he looked as though his brain had simply stopped functioning. "favorite?" he repeated weakly. you tried to explain that you loved his story, his character development, the way he struggled with insecurity and learned to overcome it. the more you spoke, the redder his face became. because underneath all of azul's confidence lives a boy who spent years believing he wasn't enough. yet somehow, before he'd ever met you, before he could impress you with success or contracts or achievements, you had already cared about him. not because of what he could offer. not because of what he became. just because he was azul. by the time you finished explaining, he had removed his glasses and was rubbing at his eyes as though physically overwhelmed. "this is deeply unfair," he muttered. "how am i supposed to compete with someone who liked me before we even met?"
Jade Leech
telling jade the truth turned out to be one of the most terrifying experiences of your life. not because he reacted badly. quite the opposite. the moment you explained that twisted wonderland existed as a game in your world, jade became interested. horrifyingly interested. the sort of interested that made you feel like a particularly fascinating specimen under a microscope. he listened patiently as you stumbled through explanations about video games, alternate worlds, and fictional characters. every answer only seemed to generate five more questions. the entire conversation became significantly worse when he realized that you had known who he was before ever meeting him. suddenly dozens of interactions from your first few weeks at nrc made sense. why you hadn't seemed intimidated by him. why you already understood his sense of humor. why certain things about his personality had never surprised you. you could practically see him piecing everything together in real time. then came the fatal mistake. "well..." you admitted nervously. "you were one of my favorites." jade paused. actually paused. a feat impressive enough to qualify as a historical event. for a brief moment, genuine surprise flickered across his face before his usual smile returned. yet this one felt softer somehow. less teasing. more sincere. "how fascinating," he murmured. the words should not have made your heart race as much as they did. you tried to explain that you enjoyed his character and found him interesting, but jade barely seemed to hear the details. he was too busy thinking about one specific fact. out of every character in your world, out of every story available to you, you had chosen him. somehow that knowledge pleased him more than he cared to admit. "i must confess," he said with a quiet smile, "there is something rather flattering about knowing i captured your attention long before i had the opportunity to do so myself."
Idia Shroud
idia's reaction was exactly as dramatic as you expected. the moment you explained that twisted wonderland existed as a game in your world, he immediately lost his mind. one second he was listening normally, and the next he was halfway out of his chair, staring at you like you'd just revealed the greatest plot twist in human history. the poor guy looked seconds away from combusting. trying to explain the concept only made things worse. every detail sounded increasingly absurd when spoken aloud. a game about the villains of disney stories. gacha mechanics. events. character cards. the fact that people spent money trying to obtain digital versions of him. idia was simultaneously fascinated and horrified. yet the real damage occurred when you casually admitted that you'd started playing because you thought he looked cool. silence. complete silence. the kind of silence that immediately signaled disaster. slowly, idia lowered his gaming console and stared at you. "what." you instantly knew you had made a mistake. unfortunately, it was too late to backtrack now. you explained that you loved his design, his personality, and eventually his story. the more you talked, the deeper idia sank into his hoodie. his face turned red enough to rival a fire alarm and his hair flushed vividly pink at the ends. because unlike the online version of himself he presented to the world, the real idia had always assumed people would find him awkward, annoying, or difficult to be around. yet somehow, before he even existed as a real person to you, you'd already decided he was worth caring about. the realization hit him like a truck. "nah," he mumbled into his sleeves. "this is like...emotional cheating." you laughed. idia only buried his face further. "how am i supposed to process the fact that my girlfriend literally pre-ordered her feelings for me?"
Rook Hunt
of all the people at nrc, rook was somehow the easiest person to tell. not because the explanation was simple, but because rook approached the entire situation with fascination instead of confusion. the moment you explained that twisted wonderland had existed as a game in your world, his eyes lit up like you'd handed him the greatest mystery ever conceived. he listened to every detail with complete attention. alternate worlds. fictional stories. players observing lives from another reality. to most people, the concept sounded impossible. to rook, it sounded beautiful. still, even he seemed surprised when you admitted that you had known him before arriving here. that you'd read his dialogue, seen his story, and followed his character throughout the game. yet what truly caught him off guard was the fact that you'd liked him. not as a real person. not as your boyfriend. simply as rook hunt, the character. you found yourself rambling nervously about how much you enjoyed his perspective on beauty and how unique you thought he was. for once, rook didn't interrupt. he simply listened. by the time you finished, he had become unusually quiet. then a warm smile spread across his face. not his usual theatrical grin. something softer. more genuine. "how extraordinary," he said. "across countless worlds and endless stories, our paths still crossed." you immediately buried your face in your hands because of course he would say something devastatingly romantic and cringe. yet when you peeked through your fingers, rook's expression remained sincere. to him, it wasn't strange. it wasn't unsettling. it was fate. the idea that somewhere in another world, before he was even real to you, your heart had already noticed his. and honestly? that might have been the most romantic thing he'd ever heard.
Happy to see the requests back open! I’ve had a thought that’s been shaking around in my head, how would the sinners react to reader putting flowers in their hair (hcs). Maybe small ones like forget-me-nots? Thank you for all your hard work and writing!
decided to combine these two since i got them back to back and they're a similar premise. the x reader fans crave playing hair salon (saying this with love. me too)
playing with their hair
YI SANG
🫧doesn't really get the appeal going into it, but comes away wanting to do it again some time. it's nice being close to you like this, and maybe he'd like to try to do the same for you
🫧he wonders about your choice in flowers if you use them, assuming that there's some sort of deeper meaning to them in flower language. whether or not there is is up to you; he'd probably find it sweet though
FAUST
🫧probably pretty intentional about her appearance; she looks how she does for a reason and doesn't have much desire to change it. however, so long as you're not doing anything permanent and you're in private, she might let you
🫧the flowers are unexpected, but you can make her blush if you tell her you picked them just for this purpose
🫧she'll take out anything you do to it/put in it before she heads back out for the day, but she did have a good time. not opposed to you doing it again
DON QUIXOTE
🫧she thinks it's fun! she sits right down when you direct her to, practically bouncing in place as she waits to see what you're going to do. you'll have to tell her to hold still, and to stop trying to turn and look. not because she doesn't trust you with her hair, but more because she's excited to see what you have in mind. the longer it goes on, the more she relaxes
🫧thinking specifically of that maneki collab where she has those cute little hairclips. if you can find some that are fixer related (she has some. don't worry) she'll be even more into it. not opposed to the flowers though
🫧approaches you like a puppy later on, not so subtly leaning her head towards you when you're sat together on a long drive. she keeps looking at you from the corner of her eye. what are you waiting for?
RYOSHU
🫧she's a mom so i'm like 98% sure she is very accustomed to having her hair styled and clips/flowers being put in it. she'll find it cute, doesn't really get embarrassed about it on account of being more occupied with teasing you
🫧acts nonchalant, but she could almost fall asleep
🫧doesn't ask you to do it again, but she'll sit right back down and let you if you ask her
MEURSAULT
🫧lets you without question; his hair is sort of short, but if you can figure out anything fun to do with it, he won't object
🫧doesn't get embarrassed and will wear whatever you put in it around. you could make him look like an over groomed shihtzu and he wouldn't think twice about it
🫧he finds it relaxing. it's not on par with the massages he can give, but it's nice to be on the receiving end of such a thing for a change
HONG LU
🫧happy to let you do as you please with it, again so long as it isn't a permanent change. he has a lot of hair to work with, so if it's a task you're willing to take on, he's willing to let you try
🫧makes absolutely no move to take anything out. he thinks it looks cute, and maybe a little change every now and then won't hurt him. plus, he likes showing it off. in a way, it's nice to change some things about his appearance now that he's trying to exercise his free will more
HEATHCLIFF
🫧another one that doesn't really understand why you want to so badly. so long as you don't do anything stupid to it, he'll let you after some consideration
🫧tries to laugh it off, but he's still not all that used to being treated all tenderly like this. it feels odd to let himself lean into it and enjoy the process, but he tries
🫧likes the flowers but doesn't really say it out loud. not embarrassed or anything though
ISHMAEL
🫧a testament to how much she trusts you, she sits down and allows you to do her hair. to be allowed to do much more than just brush it, this is most likely not your first time playing with it before. finds that she really enjoys letting you braid it, but tries to frame it more as her reluctantly allowing you to do as you please
🫧the flowers will be annoying to get out later, but for now, she thinks it's cute. anything too silly or cutesy is getting taken out before she leaves the privacy of her room though
RODION
🫧it's like a salon in here with all the gossip. she uses it as an opportunity to catch up, letting you pamper her while the two of you chat on and on about everything you've got going on, rumors you've heard
🫧appreciates it a lot more than she lets on. rodya doesn't get to enjoy nice things like this very often. she does pout a bit about the fact that the flowers are going to wilt eventually, but it's nice to feel pretty with them for now
🫧tries to be reciprocal about it, offering to do the same for you some time
DANTE
🫧BALD
🫧on a more serious note. dante could probably do with a shoulder rub or something to be so honest. probaby stiffens up and has no idea what to do with themself for the first thirty seconds before they're practically melting
🫧the idea of asmr taps on the clock is very funny but i have no idea if that would be fun or if they'd feel more like a fish in a bowl that'd being tapped on
SINCLAIR
🫧he had an older sister at one point and really, what is a younger brother if not a vessel for an older sister to practice hair on? so this isn't his first time having someone else play with his hair. it's just been a long time. but his hair is very fluffy and soft; he takes good care of it.
🫧strikes me as incredibly tenderheaded but he's being very brave about it.
🫧he gets all embarrassed about any accessories or flowers, but he's reluctant to remove them. he honestly finds it sort of fun, and wouldn't object to letting you do it again
OUTIS
🫧will take some convincing. is also very intentional about the way that she presents herself, always trying to appear professional and serious, never leaving a hair out of place as if that's somehow going to make much of a difference in how she's percieved. however, she evidently likes you a great deal if you're brave enough to even request it. probably not crazy about letting you out many accessories in, but the flowers are... cute. she's still not going out in public like that, but it's cute
🫧she's falling asleep. it takes you a while to notice her shoulders relaxing bit by bit, but it becomes obvious when she stops replying to you or questioning what you're doing.
🫧don't count on it happening often, but she didn't hate it
GREGOR
🫧genuinely does not understand why you want to. just kind of glad he got around to washing it at all recently when he eventually caves
🫧unsurprisingly kinda chatty during the process. even if it isn't his first choice for how to spend time together, at least the two of you get to hang out at all
🫧still prefers the usual ponytail over anything fancy, but he doesn't hate it. misses a few flowers on accident when he's taking everything out later
post brought to you by my still broken air conditioner. it's getting up to 96°F (35°C) with crazy humidity this week and focusing on writing is HARD so i apologize if this is like... not my best lol
should be posting some distortion detective headcanons next tho 🫶 i miss moses
Jade x Kalim is incredible they are so delulu together
Jade would be SO entertained by Kalim's whimsy, and Kalim would be blind as fuck as to Jade's weird manners he just don't mind
An ill-intentioned assassin would present themselves to Kalim, pretending to be their friend to get a perfect opportunity to kill him. Kalim would be like ''Ooooo friend wait I'll get something to eat for us to discuss, we can solve that !''
Jade would be like ''Yeeee Kalim go fetch something while I get our guest a chair 💜'' and snap his spine as soon as Kalim is away
The kitchen smelled like vanilla, warm butter, and fresh strawberries, the usual peaceful Saturday afternoon baking session. Trey had his sleeves rolled up, apron dusted with flour. His son sat on a tall stool nearby, little legs swinging back and forth as he watched his father work. But the boy’s mind was clearly elsewhere. He kept glancing toward the doorway that led to the living room, where you were currently resting on the couch with a pillow behind your back.
Trey noticed the distraction and smiled softly, wiping his hands in a towel. “What’s on your mind, buddy? You’ve been quiet today.”
The little boy looked up at him with serious eyes. “Daddy, you have to stop feeding Mommy so many sweets.”
Trey raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because her belly is getting really huge!” the boy said matter of factly. “and she keeps saying her back hurts. If you keep giving her cake and tarts, she’s gonna get even bigger!”
Trey let out a warm, fond laugh that filled the kitchen. He set the bowl down and crouched slightly so he was closer to his son eye level. “That’s not because of the sweets, kiddo. Mommy’s belly is big because your little sister is growing in there.”
The boy’s eyes widened in pure horror. “Mommy ate my future sister?!”
Trey had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing too hard. He reached out and gently ruffled his son’s hair. “No, no. She didn’t eat her. That’s not how it works.”
The boy tilted his head, clearly confused but now intensely curious. “Then… how did the baby get in there?”
Trey froze for a second.
Ah. The Question.
He had known this day would come eventually. He thought for a long moment, trying to find an explanation that was gentle enough for a child, and wouldn’t get him in trouble with you later for oversharing. Finally, he smiled that calm, reliable dad smile and went with what he knew best.
“It’s kind of like baking.” Trey explained. “When two people love each other very much, like Mommy and I do, they put all their love together, along with some special ingredients. It makes a kind of dough. Then they carefully shape that dough with lots of care and warmth. And after a long time of ‘baking’… a baby comes out, all ready and perfect.”
The boy’s eyes sparkled with sudden understanding. “So… it’s like making a gingerbread man?”
Trey nodded, relieved. “Exactly like that. Except way more special. And instead of cookies, you get a little sister.”
The boy thought about it for a second, then grinned brightly. “Can we make gingerbread men right now? With buttons and everything? I want to make one for my baby sister!”
Trey chuckled and stood up, already reaching for the cookie cutters. “Sure thing. But we have to save some dough for Mommy too. She’s been craving sweets even more lately.”
As father and son started rolling out fresh gingerbread dough together, the dangerous question was successfully avoided. Trey made a mental note to thank the Seven that his son was still young enough to be distracted by baked goods.
Later that evening, when you walked into the kitchen and saw the tray of slightly lopsided gingerbread babies, you raised an eyebrow at Trey. “…Do I even want to know what conversation led to this?”
Trey just smiled innocently and kissed your cheek. “Let’s just say I handled the ‘where do babies come from’ talk with minimal damage.”
Ruggie Bucchi
Ruggie was in the middle of his least favorite chore …laundry… grumbling under his breath about how how is he supposed to fold a panties. He was sorting socks when his little girl walked into the room, clutching his car keys in both hands like they were precious treasure.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oi, what’re you planning with those, kiddo?”
She looked up at him with big, determined eyes and declared. “Daddy, you need to take me to the hospital right now.”
Ruggie’s ears shot straight up. His eyes blew wide in instant panic.
1. Something was wrong with his baby girl.
2. If anything was wrong with her, you were going to kill him, bring him back, and kill him again.
He dropped the laundry basket and crouched down immediately, hands gently checking her forehead, arms, and knees. “What’s wrong?! Does anything hurt? Did you fall? Are you sick? Talk to me, kid!”
His daughter shook her head, looking perfectly fine and a little confused by his reaction. “I’m okay, Daddy.”
Ruggie let out a huge sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. “Then why do you wanna go to the hospital so bad?”
She said it so casually it nearly knocked him over. “To buy me a little sister.”
Ruggie blinked once. Twice.
“…The hospital doesn’t sell kids, kiddo.”
His daughter puffed out her cheeks and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re a big liar! I saw it! People walk in with nothing and come out carrying babies!”
Ruggie had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself from laughing right in her face. His shoulders shook with the effort. This was too good. He tried to keep a straight face. “That’s… not quite how it works.”
She crossed her arms, looking thoroughly annoyed. “Then where do babies come from?”
Ruggie leaned back against the washing machine, grinning that signature sly hyena smile. He shrugged. “Sorry, kid. That kind of top secret information costs a lot. And your little piggy bank doesn’t have nearly enough saved up to buy it from me.”
His daughter stared at him for a long moment, clearly plotting. Ruggie thought he was so smart. He thought he’d bought himself some peace and quiet.
He was wrong.
A few hours later, you walked through the front door and immediately narrowed your eyes at Ruggie, who was now pretending to be very focused on washing the dishes.
“Why…” you asked slowly, “did our daughter just call Leona on the phone asking to borrow money so she could ‘buy information’ from her father?”
Ruggie froze mid fold. His ears flattened. “..She did what now?”
You crossed your arms. “You heard me.”
Ruggie ran a hand down his face, groaning. “That little sneak… I knew she was too smart for her own good.” Ruggie sighed dramatically and flopped against you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Can’t we just tell her the stork brings them? Or that they grow on trees?”
“You messed up, you solve it.”
He never going to live this one down.
Jade Leech
Jade walked hand in hand with his daughter after he picked her up from kindergarten. He’s listening attentively as she chattered away about her day. His usual polite smile was soft and genuine, these moments with her were some of his favorites.
“We went to the aquarium today, Papa!” she said excitedly, swinging his hand. “We saw big fishes and tiny fishes and, and baby seahorses! They were so small and funny looking!”
Jade nodded, eyes warm with amusement. “That sounds quite fascinating. Did you learn anything interesting about them?”
She nodded vigorously. “The teacher said the daddy seahorse carries the babies and gives birth to them! It looked really silly.”
Jade chuckled softly. “Nature has many curious ways of…”
The little girl suddenly stopped walking and looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. “Papa… did you give birth to me? Just like the daddy seahorse?”
Jade froze mid step.
For once in his life, the ever composed Jade Leech was completely speechless. His eyes widened slightly as he stared down at his daughter. “…Could you repeat that, my dear?” he asked, voice still polite but just a touch strained, hoping he had simply misheard.
She repeated it cheerfully. “The teacher said boy seahorses give birth to the babies. And seahorses are fish, and you’re a fish too, Papa! So you must have given birth to me!”
Jade stood there in stunned silence for several long seconds. He had mentally prepared for many things as a father. The “where do babies come from” question had been on his list, neatly categorized with several age appropriate explanations ready. But this? Not even on the backup list.
He crouched down to her eye level, still maintaining his calm smile with impressive effort. “Humans and merfolk are not quite the same as fish, especially not seahorses.” he explained gently. “Our biology is rather different.”
His daughter tilted her head, blinking up at him with pure curiosity. “Why? Then how dose we do it?”
Jade opened his mouth… then closed it. For the first time in years, he found himself mentally unequipped. He could feel the beginning of a rare headache forming. Thankfully, salvation appeared just ahead.
“Ah!” Jade said smoothly, straightening up and pointing toward a colorful shop across the street. “Look at that. They have your favorite ice cream today. Would you like some?”
The distraction worked instantly. His daughter gasped in delight and the dangerous topic was (temporarily) forgotten as they went to get ice cream.
The next day, Azul came to visit, as he occasionally did. The two were chatting in the living room while your daughter played nearby. At one point, Azul mentioned with a small, proud smile
“Actually, my wife and I have been talking about having one more child.”
Before Jade could respond, his daughter looked up from her toys and said brightly. “So Uncle Azul is gonna give birth soon?”
The entire room went dead silent.
Azul’s teacup froze halfway to his mouth. His face went through several shades of color. Jade’s polite smile twitched dangerously at the corners.
“…I beg your pardon?” Azul asked weakly.
Jade cleared his throat, voice still perfectly polite but with a dangerous edge. “It seems my daughter has developed some… interesting theories after her aquarium trip.”
Your daughter nodded seriously. “Daddy seahorses give birth! And Uncle Azul is…”
Jade quickly stood up. “My dear, why don’t we go see if there’s more ice cream in the kitchen?” As he gently ushered his daughter out of the room, Jade glanced back at Azul with a serene yet terrifying smile.
“We will never speak of this again.”
Kalim Al Asim
It was one of those rare, perfectly peaceful afternoons in the Al-Asim household. No parties. No sudden guests. No emergencies. Just you and Kalim sitting on the mountain of colorful pillows scattered across the living room carpet, chatting about nothing important, how the new fountain in the garden looked, what the kids had drawn that morning, and how lucky you both felt to have such a lively family. Kalim eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, a bright, affectionate smile on his face. He leaned closer playfully, already tilting his head to kiss you but before his lips could meet yours, a tiny boy burst into the room.
“NOOO!”
Your youngest son sprinted between the two of you and shoved Kalim chest with both little hands, pushing him back with surprising determination for a five year old. Then he immediately climbed into your lap and wrapped his arms tightly around your neck, glaring at his father. “Stay away from Mommy!”
You and Kalim both froze, staring at your son in shock.
“…Sweetie?” You gently patted his back, trying to understand. “What’s going on? Why did you do that?”
The little boy hugged you tighter, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment before turning to glare at Kalim again. “Daddy needs to stop!”
Kalim blinked, looking genuinely hurt and very confused. He had never once raised his voice or laid an angry hand on you. He couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong.
“Me? What did I do, little treasure?” Kalim asked softly, tilting his head. “Did I make you upset?”
The boy pointed an accusing finger at his father. “You keep kissing Mommy! You have to stop! I don’t want more siblings!”
Both you and Kalim froze again. A long, heavy silence filled the room. You had to press your face into your son’s hair to hide how hard you were trying not to laugh. Kalim’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again.
“…Kissing?” he repeated, blinking rapidly. “Kissing doesn’t make babies, buddy. You don’t have to worry about that.”
The little boy looked at his father like he had just said the sky was green. His eyes started to glisten with frustrated tears. “But Uncle Jamil said kissing makes babies! And Uncle Jamil is really smart! He can’t be wrong!”
Kalim’s jaw dropped.
You finally lost the battle and let out a soft snort of laughter, quickly turning it into a comforting hum as you rocked your son gently. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Everything’s alright. You’re not getting any more siblings right now. Daddy and I promise.”
The little boy sniffled, but your reassurance seemed to calm him. He stayed glued to your lap for a long time, occasionally shooting protective glances whenever your husband moved too close. Kalim just sat there, still looking stunned.
For the rest of that week, your son appointed himself the official “Kissing Guard.”
Every time Kalim tried to lean in for even a quick peck on your cheek, a tiny body would appear out of nowhere, pushing between you two with dramatic flair. “No kissing! No more brothers and sisters!”
Kalim took it with his usual good humor at first, laughing and ruffling the boy’s hair, trying to negotiate “just one little kiss” but by day four he was dramatically pretending to cry about being “banned from loving his wife.”
You eventually had to sit your son down again and explain that babies don’t appear just because people kiss. He listened, but still remained suspicious of any affection between you and Kalim for a while.
Rook Hunt
Rook was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, preparing a beautiful lunch. Soft music played in the background as he chopped vegetables. His son walked in with an unusually serious expression on his small face, brows furrowed, lips pressed together, the very picture of a tiny dramatic boy.
Rook’s sharp eyes noticed immediately. He set down the wooden spoon and turned with a warm, attentive smile. “Why such a grave face? Come, tell your Papa what troubles you.”
The little boy stood straight, took a deep breath, and said with all the seriousness a five year old could. “Papa… I’m going to be a father.”
Rook had to use everything not to burst into delighted laughter right then and there. Instead, he crouched gracefully to his son’s eye level, tilting his head with fond curiosity. “Oh? And how did this wonderful event come to pass?”
The boy’s cheeks flushed bright red. He looked down at his shoes, mumbling shyly. “I… I kissed a girl on the cheek.”
Rook’s heart melted into a puddle of pure adoration. He let out a soft, warm chuckle and scooped his son up into his arms, spinning him once before hugging him close.
“Ah, how romantic! A kiss on the cheek is a truly beautiful and noble gesture. However!” he added gently, tapping his son’s nose. “I’m afraid such a sweet little kiss will not make babies.”
The boy blinked up at him, confused. “Why not?”
Rook smiled patiently. “It is a much more complicated and magical process, my son. You are still far too young for such things. When you are older, we can speak of it properly.”
The boy pouted a little, but his curiosity remained.
But Rook’s eyes still sparkled up with pride. “ Who is the lucky girl? Did you treat her like a princess? I certainly hope so! Tell me everything, my little hunter. What is her name? Did you bow properly when…”
The kitchen door opened.
You walked in holding your phone, one eyebrow raised. “Rook…” you said slowly. “why did Vil just called me asking why his daughter came home announcing that she’s going to have a baby… and that our son is the father?”
The room went silent.
Rook kept smiling, that perfect, dazzling smile, but his face slowly drained of all color until he looked almost ghostly pale.
For the first time in recorded history, Rook Hunt whispered
“…Fuck.”
Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia was on the couch, peacefully flipping through a brand new cookbook, his eyes scanned the pages with interest when he heard the familiar tiny feet running. His daughter approached with sparkling eyes and a determined little bounce in her step.
Lilia immediately set the book aside, and scooped her up with a bright grin, settling her comfortably on his lap. “Well, well~ What brings my precious little batling to me with such shining eyes? Come, ask Papa anything!”
The little girl looked up at him seriously. “Papa… I have a question. It’s about babies.”
Lilia took a deep, theatrical breath and puffed out his chest with confidence. This was familiar territory. He had already survived this conversation once with Malleus and once with Silver. He was prepared. He would nail this one.
“Ask away, my dear! Papa knows everything!”
His daughter tilted her head. “Did I come from an egg?”
Lilia raised an elegant eyebrow. “An egg? Now why would you think that?”
“Because big brother Malleus said he came from an egg!”
Lilia’s smile faltered for half a second. He prayed internally that Malleus hadn’t gone into graphic detail about dragon hatching and mating rituals.
“Ah… I see. Well, no, my sweet. You did not come from an egg. Malleus is a dragon, so he hatched from one. But you, my darling girl, are different.”
His daughter nodded slowly, processing this new information. Then she looked up again with big, innocent eyes. “Did you find me in the woods?”
Lilia blinked. Twice. “…No?”
She pouted, crossing her little arms. “But big brother Silver told me you found him in the woods when he was a baby!”
Lilia let out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing his temple with one hand while still holding her with the other. “That… is a very different and rather complicated situation, my dear. I did not pick you up from the woods. You came here through the natural ways that babies usually arrive. If you’d like, I can explain it to you…”
Before he could continue, his daughter suddenly hopped off his lap. “Nope! That sounds boring!” she declared cheerfully. “I’m not interested anymore!”
And with that, she skipped away toward her toys, leaving Lilia sitting on the couch in stunned silence. He stared at the empty space where she had been, cookbook forgotten on the cushion beside him.
“…Boring?” he whispered, genuinely offended. “I was prepared to give her the whole speech!”Lilia slumped back dramatically. “Children these days have no appreciation for a well crafted explanation from an ancient fae…”
Okay so Velvet's -> @flowerdustedstars yandere talkings got me thinking about the Limbus cast and their yandere potential so here are my thoughts
a/n: I generally don't tend to consume yandere stuff often so this might be off. Also these are BASE SINNERS, not IDs. Anyways enjoy :D
Disclaimer: On intervallo 5.5, so if something's wrong blame it on that
Faust: I feel like Faust would have great yandere abilities once she got over her mental block. I think for our Faust, she's so hardset on being perfect and methodical that at first she'd reason against her obsession. But once she's in? Yeah no she'll learn every detail about you from every single mirror world, making sure to calculate every single variable that could lead to you leaving her grasp. After all, since Faust is always right you should always listen to her, no?
Don Quixote: This is tough for me because I've only seen her silly side so far but I know Sancho exists. But I think generally if she became fixated on someone then she'd cling to them endlessly, doing anything and everything for them. If by any way you became the image of "justice" in her mind then it's essentially game over. Anyone disrespects you? Dead. But I feel like at some point she'd become more obsessed with the idea of you and you yourself, which could lead down a whole different path. You're her knight of justice, and she'll make sure you'll never be anyone else's.
Ryoshu: I feel like I say this a lot whenever it comes to Ryoshu but I DON'T KNOW. I'm so bad at characterizing her sorry lol. For her, she'd most likely view you as the most pleasing art, something truly worth looking at and admiring. Judging from what I've heard of her family, I don't really think she'd use them to control you, but who knows. I certainly don't. Regardless, I don't see her as a yandere that'd lock you away but rather one that would make you follow what she thinks is right, believing that she's leading you down the right path.
Meursault: Another character that I think would have to take a while to reach the point of being able to have those thoughts. He tends to live so devoid of emotions that it'd take a while to get to the point of love, much less obsession. But once he's there, he's essentially the perfect yandere. He knows every single detail about you, things that you don't even know about yourself. He knows exactly how to control you, what makes you happy and what makes you angry. Would want to spend every minute with you, constantly analyzing every detail there is to notice.
Hong Lu: Velvet talked a lot about him already but I'll add some humble thoughts. While other characters might have the ability to understand you and manipulate you, Hong Lu has the power to control you. Now granted he has the other two as well, but him being rich certainly gives him far greater powers than the other sinners. You're just so precious, how could he ever bring himself to let you go~?
Heathcliff: I think he'd be the devoted yandere type. Your guard dog in the shadows or whatever. He'd never show that side to you, always being sweet and kind whenever the two of you are together. But if someone even looks at you wrong, they're getting pummeled in the back alley until they have no more teeth in their mouth. He won't even let a single fly get too close to you. He will protect you from everything and everyone, vowing to never leave your side.
Ishmael: She'd try to stop herself, as she'd vowed to herself to never get as obsessed as she did over Ahab. But then she'd rationalize it to herself, saying that it's not the same. After all, this isn't hatred, but rather love. You'd become her new compass, and from that moment she'd never stop following you. You're her light in the darkness, her path forward. She would fall into a blind obsession, making sure that you'd be nobody's but hers and hers alone.
Outis: Velvet once again talked about her, and I have significantly less thoughts to add here lol. I really don't know how Penelope would be handled, if Penelope is even Outis's wife in Limbus. But if I ignore that part for a second, she definitely has both the strength and the tactical abilities to keep you firmly under her leash.
Rodya: She's a bit of a tricky case for me. I feel like beyond just giving her food and being generally nice, I think she'd become obsessed with someone who's like who Sonya was supposed to be. Someone who genuinely cares for the common folk, and somebody that won't make the same mistake that she made. I feel like if she were to find someone like that, she'd become obsessed. Perhaps she ruined her old life, but you're right in front of her promising not only her, but other people that need help salvation. You're like an angel from the skies above, and she will never stop following you.
Sinclair: Ah yes. He'd be a mix of insecure and savior complex. On one hand, how could someone like him fall in love with you? Someone so pathetic, without a single bit of value. That's how he'd think of himself at least. But on the other hand, he feels like he needs to protect you. That he needs to lift you from your darkness, since you loved someone as worthless as him. He might not be much, but he's sure that if nothing else he can protect you from the rest of the world.
Gregor: He'd be so pathetic in his scenario. The instant that someone loved him, even despite his bug arm and all of his flaws, he'd quickly fall down a rabbit hole. How does someone so perfect even exist in the world? And how come they love me? And most importantly, does anyone else like you exist? No, of course not. And so Gregor will cling to you, doing whatever he can to make sure that you stay with him, even if it's just for a little bit longer.
Yi Sang: No, I did not forget about my darling love of my life. Rather, I kept him for last because I genuinely find it so so hard for Yi Sang as a sinner to become a yandere. The thing is, after the League of Nine disbanded, Yi Sang was shackled by his past. He ended up mindlessly working on the mirror, void of happiness. And the thing is, he couldn't even bring himself to care, because there was nothing else for him to want. He had one place of joy, and it was gone. But in the end, with the help of Sang Yi And Limbus, he finds his wings and his happiness. And this is exactly why I find it so hard to imagine him as a yandere. He knows the pain of feeling trapped, of feeling like everything is hopeless. And he would never want to inflict that one anyone else, especially onto someone he loves. If you were fine with his obsession, he'd find himself willing to indulge, but he'd still restrict it. But if there was even a slightest chance that he could make you unhappy, make you feel like he did in the past, then he'd rather never see you again than make you suffer. The ONLY way I can see him being a yandere is if he found himself believing that his love and guidance could help you find your own wings and freedom. But tbh, without ids or intense delusion (that I don't think he would have) it's just not something I really see being possible.
The kitchen is particularly bright today, overflowing with vibrant spices, the scent of roasting meats, and the sweet, heavy aroma of dates and honey. When it comes to the Housewarden of Scarabia, a standard celebration is simply impossible. Kalim Al-Asim does not do anything halfway. He is a boy who operates entirely on the frequency of absolute, boundless joy and overwhelming generosity.
But when the boy who constantly throws parties for everyone else finally has his own birthday, the sheer scale of the celebration can be... blinding. To properly honor the Sun of Scarabia, one must look past the gold, the jewels, and the endless banquets, to find the boy who simply wants to see his friends smile.
Please, take a seat. I have prepared an extensive, massive feast of a story for him. Settle in, because this serving is going to take you on a long, beautiful journey through the desert sands.
Serving: The Sun's True Weight
To say that the Scarabia dormitory was busy would be a profound, almost comical understatement. The dormitory was in a state of absolute, concentrated hysteria.
The moment you stepped through the enchanted mirror from the dark, gothic hallways of Night Raven College and into the sweltering, sun-drenched courtyard of Scarabia, the noise hit you like a physical wall. It was a cacophony of shouting students, the clattering of massive silver platters, the squawking of exotic magical birds, and the rhythmic, frantic thud of heavy footsteps rushing across the intricately tiled floors.
The air was thick and heavy, carrying the rich, intoxicating scents of roasting lamb, cardamom, cinnamon, saffron, and baking flatbread. Massive, brilliantly colored silk banners in shades of crimson, gold, and deep violet had been draped from the high, arched balconies, catching the hot desert wind and snapping like the sails of a grand ship.
It was June 25th. It was the birthday of Kalim Al-Asim, the heir to the Asim family fortune, the Housewarden of Scarabia, and the brightest, most overwhelmingly energetic student on campus.
You navigated the bustling courtyard, pressing yourself against a cool stone pillar to avoid being trampled by three Scarabia underclassmen who were frantically carrying a tower of crystal goblets that looked entirely too precarious. You were looking for the one person who actually knew how to orchestrate this madness, though you suspected he was currently plotting a complex, highly deniable assassination.
You found Jamil Viper in the main banquet hall.
Jamil looked as though he had aged ten years in the span of a single morning. He stood at the head of the massive, elongated dining table, a clipboard in his hand, his dark eyes wide and slightly manic. His signature braided hair was perfectly intact, but there was a distinct, terrifying twitch in his left eyelid.
"No, no, no! I explicitly said the lotus flowers go in the silver vases, and the desert roses go in the brass urns!" Jamil barked, pointing a firm finger at a terrified-looking first-year student. "If you mix them, the magical residue from the lotus will cause the roses to spontaneously combust! Do you want to set the Housewarden on fire during his own birthday dinner? Because I certainly do not have the time to extinguish him!"
"Right away, Vice Housewarden!" the student squeaked, immediately grabbing the vases and sprinting in the opposite direction.
Jamil let out a long, slow, agonizing exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse upon his own bloodline.
"Jamil?" you called out softly, stepping into his line of sight.
Jamil's head snapped up. For a fraction of a second, his dark eyes flashed with pure hostility, ready to scold whoever was interrupting him. But the moment he realized it was you, the tension in his shoulders dropped a microscopic inch.
"Prefect," Jamil sighed, his voice tight. "If you are here to ask me where you should sit for the banquet, the seating chart has been completely ruined. Kalim’s family sent three unexpected shipments of exotic beasts this morning, and I had to convert the eastern lounge into a temporary petting zoo. I am one minor inconvenience away from dissolving into the sand."
"I'm not here about the seating chart," you smiled sympathetically, walking up to him. "I'm here to ask how I can help. You look like you're carrying the weight of the entire world on your shoulders."
"I am carrying the weight of the Asim family’s absolute lack of financial restraint," Jamil corrected bitterly, though there was a deeply buried, begrudging fondness in his tone. He looked down at his clipboard, flipping through three pages of densely packed notes. "Forty camels. They sent forty camels loaded with gifts, silk, and spices. Where am I supposed to put forty camels, Prefect? This is a dormitory, not a caravanserai."
"You've managed worse," you offered reassuringly. "Where is the birthday boy?"
Jamil closed his eyes, the twitch in his eyelid returning with a vengeance. "Kalim is currently in his chambers. The royal tailors sent him twelve different ceremonial outfits, all heavily embroidered with actual, solid gold thread. He has been running back and forth, trying them on, and subsequently trying to convince the entire dorm to try them on as well. He is bouncing off the walls, Prefect. He has the energy of a localized hurricane, and if he comes down here before the banquet is ready, he is going to accidentally ruin the sugar sculptures."
Jamil opened his eyes, looking at you with a sudden, desperate intensity. It was the look of a drowning man spotting a life raft.
"Prefect," Jamil said, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Take him."
"Take him?" you repeated, blinking in surprise.
"Yes. Steal him. Kidnap him. Tell him the Headmaster needs him, tell him there is a rare magical insect in the courtyard, I do not care what you say. Just get him out of my hair for exactly three hours. If I do not have three hours of uninterrupted focus, this banquet will end in a culinary disaster."
You couldn't help but laugh at the sheer desperation in Jamil's voice. You had already planned to steal Kalim away for a bit to give him your own present, away from the chaotic crowds. This simply gave you the perfect excuse.
"I'll take care of it," you promised, giving Jamil a mock salute. "Three hours. You won't see hide nor hair of him."
"May the Great Seven bless you," Jamil muttered sincerely, already turning back to yell at a student who was holding a platter of dates upside down.
You quickly made your way out of the banquet hall, navigating the winding, opulent corridors of the Scarabia dorm. The walls were lined with intricate tapestries and glowing brass lanterns that cast a warm, golden light over the tiled floors. As you approached Kalim's private chambers, you didn't even need to knock. You could hear him from down the hall.
"Oh, look at this one! It’s got real rubies woven into the cuffs! Doesn't it look amazing? Wait, maybe it's too heavy for dancing. If I wear this, I won't be able to do the spin during the third song!"
You pushed the heavy wooden doors open, stepping into an absolute explosion of wealth and color.
Kalim’s bedroom was massive, decorated with plush velvet cushions, sheer silk curtains, and a massive, gilded bed. But currently, every available surface was covered in clothes. There were vests, sashes, turbans, cloaks, and jeweled belts scattered across the floor like a dragon’s hoard.
In the center of the chaos stood Kalim Al-Asim.
He was wearing a breathtakingly intricate vest made of deep crimson silk, embroidered with a staggering amount of gold thread that caught the light with every movement. His white hair was slightly messy, sticking up in every direction, and his ruby-red eyes were wide with a frantic, euphoric energy. He was surrounded by three very exhausted-looking Scarabia students who were holding up various mirrors and accessories.
The moment Kalim spotted you, his entire face lit up like a supernova.
"PREFECT!" Kalim shouted, his voice echoing loudly in the large room. He didn't walk; he sprinted across the room, completely ignoring the expensive fabrics on the floor, and threw his arms around you in a massive, crushing hug.
"Happy birthday, Kalim," you laughed, hugging him back tightly. He felt incredibly warm, radiating energy like a physical heat source.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Kalim cheered, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. "I am so glad you're here! You have to help me! My parents sent all these clothes, and they’re all so beautiful, but I can't decide which one to wear for the feast! What do you think? Is the crimson too dark? Should I go with the white and gold? Jamil said I should wear the traditional blue, but I feel like the blue doesn't spin well!"
He was talking so fast his words were blurring together, a breathless torrent of pure excitement. You looked at the three exhausted students, giving them a subtle nod. They immediately took the hint, bowing quickly to Kalim and quietly slipping out of the room to escape the madness.
"Kalim, breathe," you laughed, gently placing your hands over his. "You look amazing in the crimson. But... you actually aren't going to need it right now."
Kalim blinked, his head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. "I'm not? But the banquet is starting soon! Jamil has been yelling about the lotus flowers all morning!"
"The banquet isn't for another three hours," you corrected smoothly. "And Jamil is currently in the zone. If you go down there right now, he might accidentally serve you on a silver platter. So, I am officially kidnapping you."
"Kidnapping me?!" Kalim gasped, his eyes going wide. But rather than fear, an expression of sheer, unadulterated delight spread across his face. "Like a secret mission? A covert operation?! Where are we going? Do we need a disguise? I have a cloak that makes you look like a merchant from the Scalding Sands!"
"No disguises needed," you smiled, reaching up to gently fix a stray lock of his white hair. "Just you and me. I wanted to give you my present before the party starts, away from all the crowds. Is that okay?"
Kalim’s expression softened instantly. The frantic, bouncing energy settled down into a deep, profound warmth. He looked at you with those bright ruby eyes, an incredibly genuine, sweet smile crossing his lips.
"I would love that," Kalim said softly.
"Great," you nodded, grabbing his hand. "Now, take off the solid gold vest before you pass out from heat exhaustion, put on something comfortable, and follow me."
Ten minutes later, the two of you were slipping out the back entrance of the Scarabia dorm, avoiding the main courtyard entirely. Kalim had changed into a much simpler, lightweight white tunic and loose pants, though he still wore his signature golden armbands. He followed you willingly, his hand securely holding yours, a constant, cheerful hum vibrating in his chest.
You led him away from the dorm, out into the vast, sweeping dunes of the Scarabia oasis.
The heat of the late afternoon sun was intense, but the magical climate control of the oasis kept the air from becoming unbearable. You walked until you reached the edge of the crystal-clear water, far away from the noise of the dormitory. Here, the only sounds were the gentle rustling of the massive palm fronds in the wind and the soft lapping of the water against the sandy shore.
You found a secluded spot beneath the shade of a particularly large, ancient palm tree. The grass here was thick and soft, providing a perfect natural cushion.
"Sit," you commanded playfully, dropping down onto the grass.
Kalim immediately sat down beside you, crossing his legs. He looked around the quiet oasis, taking a deep breath of the fresh, clean air.
"It's so quiet out here," Kalim noted, his voice losing its booming volume, adjusting perfectly to the serene environment. "I love the dorm when it's full of life, but this is nice too. It feels like we're the only two people in the world."
"That was the goal," you smiled, turning to face him fully. "You are constantly surrounded by people, Kalim. You throw the best parties, you have a hundred friends, and you are always the center of attention. But I know how overwhelming that can be. I wanted to give you a moment to just... breathe."
Kalim looked at you, a soft, incredibly tender expression crossing his features. He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "You always know exactly what I need, Prefect. Even when I don't know it myself."
"I try," you laughed softly. You reached into the messenger bag you had brought with you, your fingers brushing against the object you had spent weeks preparing.
You pulled it out and set it in your lap.
It was a large, thick, leather-bound book. The leather was a deep, rich brown, and the edges of the pages were slightly uneven, giving it a rustic, handmade feel. It wasn't covered in gold. It didn't have any jewels encrusted on the cover. It was entirely, beautifully simple.
Kalim looked at the book, his curiosity piqued. He was used to receiving gifts that cost more than most people made in a lifetime. His parents sent him diamond-studded daggers. Distant family sent him rare, magical beasts. A simple leather book was an anomaly in his world.
"What is it?" Kalim asked, leaning closer.
"Open it," you encouraged, handing the heavy book to him.
Kalim took the book with both hands. He ran his fingers over the smooth leather cover before slowly, carefully opening it to the first page.
He stopped breathing.
The book was a scrapbook. But it wasn't just a collection of random pictures. It was a meticulously crafted, deeply personal archive of his time at Night Raven College.
The first page held a magical photograph from the very first week of school. It was a picture of Kalim, Jamil, and you sitting in the cafeteria. In the moving photo, Kalim was laughing so hard he was practically falling out of his chair, Jamil was rolling his eyes but failing to hide a fond smile, and you were trying to balance a spoon on your nose. Beneath the picture, written in your neat handwriting, was the date and a small note: The day I realized the Sun of Scarabia was actually just a golden retriever in human form.
Kalim let out a sharp, wet gasp. His eyes widened, completely locked onto the moving image.
He slowly turned the page.
Every single page was filled with memories. There were photos of the chaotic Magift tournaments, with Kalim flying on his carpet, cheering at the top of his lungs. There were pictures from the Halloween festival, showcasing his elaborate, terrifyingly expensive costume. There were candid shots you had taken when he wasn't looking—Kalim helping a struggling first-year with their alchemy homework, Kalim feeding the stray cats near Sam's shop, Kalim sleeping soundly on the lounge sofa with a textbook on his face.
But it wasn't just photos. You had saved everything.
There were pressed, dried desert flowers from the first time you explored the oasis together. There was a slightly stained napkin from Mostro Lounge with a doodle Kalim had drawn of Azul looking angry. There were small, written anecdotes from Ace, Deuce, Epel, and even a surprisingly polite, well-written note from Riddle Rosehearts, expressing his genuine respect for Kalim’s unrelenting positivity.
On one page, there was a beautiful, intricate sketch of a Scarabia dancer, drawn by Trey Clover. On another, a short, incredibly grumpy but ultimately sweet note written by Leona Kingscholar about how Kalim was the only herbivore he could actually tolerate being around.
Every single page was a testament to the fact that Kalim Al-Asim was loved. Not because he was rich. Not because he threw great parties. But because he was simply, unequivocally, wonderfully him.
Kalim sat entirely frozen, his eyes scanning every single word, every single image. The silence in the oasis was absolute, broken only by the soft, ragged sound of his breathing.
He reached the final page.
It was a full-page, high-quality magical photograph of the two of you. You were standing in the courtyard at sunset. Kalim had his arm slung heavily over your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace, both of you smiling so widely it looked like it hurt.
Beneath the picture was your final note:
To the boy who gives the world everything he has. You are the brightest light in this school. You do not need to buy our friendship, Kalim. We are here because of your heart. Happy Birthday. I love you.
Kalim stared at the final page for a long, agonizing moment.
Then, a single, heavy tear slipped from his eye, landing with a soft tap on the thick parchment paper.
"Kalim?" you asked softly, leaning closer.
He didn't look up. He kept his head bowed over the book, his shoulders beginning to shake. A second tear fell, then a third. Suddenly, he was crying. He wasn't just tearing up; he was openly, heavily weeping, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions.
He closed the book carefully, as if it were made of fragile glass, and set it on the grass beside him. Then, he brought his hands up to his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying desperately to stop the flow of tears.
"Oh, Kalim," you murmured, your heart breaking at the sight. You immediately shifted closer, wrapping your arms around his trembling shoulders, pulling him against your chest.
Kalim didn't resist. He collapsed into your embrace, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He cried with the sheer, unadulterated vulnerability of a child, the heavy, crushing weight of his unspoken fears finally breaking through his cheerful facade.
You held him tightly, resting your chin on the top of his head, running your fingers soothingly through his soft white hair. You didn't tell him to stop crying. You simply let him feel it, acting as a safe, quiet anchor in the storm of his emotions.
"I'm sorry," Kalim choked out between sobs, his voice muffled against your collarbone. "I'm sorry, I'm supposed to be happy. It's my birthday. I shouldn't be crying."
"You are allowed to cry, Kalim," you said gently, your voice steady and warm. "Tears aren't a bad thing. They just mean you're feeling something deeply."
He took a shuddering breath, his grip on your waist tightening. "It's just... no one has ever given me something like this before. Never."
"I know," you replied softly. "You get a lot of gold. But I figured you had enough of that."
Kalim let out a wet, watery laugh, pulling back just enough to look at you. His ruby eyes were bright red and swimming with tears, his cheeks flushed from crying. He looked incredibly vulnerable, stripped of the confident, boisterous Housewarden persona.
"You don't understand," Kalim whispered, his voice trembling. He reached down, lightly touching the leather cover of the scrapbook. "I... I love my family. I love my life. But sometimes, it is so hard to tell what is real."
He looked away, staring out across the rippling water of the oasis. The bright, endless optimism that usually radiated from him dimmed, revealing the deep, complex anxieties that he fought so hard to hide.
"Since I was a little boy," Kalim continued, his tone dropping into a solemn, heavy register that you rarely heard from him. "People have always smiled at me. They always bowed. They always laughed at my jokes. But I always knew, deep down, that they were smiling at the Asim fortune. They were laughing because they wanted favor. They bowed because they had to."
He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, making himself look incredibly small.
"I know I'm not the smartest," Kalim confessed, the raw honesty in his voice making your chest ache. "I know I struggle with magic that Riddle can do in his sleep. I know I'm not a brilliant tactician like Azul, or naturally powerful like Malleus. Sometimes... I worry that the only thing I have to offer is my money. I throw these massive parties, I give away expensive gifts, I buy all the food... because I am so terrified that if I stop throwing the party, everyone will leave."
He squeezed his eyes shut, another tear slipping down his cheek.
"Even Jamil," Kalim whispered, the name carrying a profound, agonizing weight. "I know how much I burden him. I know he resents me sometimes. He has to stay by my side because of our families. But I love him so much. I love all of you so much. I just... I want to be enough, Prefect. I want to be enough without the gold."
The silence that followed his confession was heavy, filled with the devastating reality of his deepest fears. Kalim Al-Asim, the boy who smiled brighter than the sun, lived in constant terror of the dark. He believed he had to buy his right to be loved.
You sat perfectly still, absorbing the sheer magnitude of his pain. You didn't offer a quick, dismissive platitude. You didn't just tell him he was wrong. You needed him to truly, deeply understand the reality of his own worth.
You moved closer, reaching out to gently take his face in both of your hands. You forced him to look at you, your thumbs gently wiping away the wet tracks of his tears.
"Kalim," you said, your voice ringing with absolute, unshakable conviction. "Listen to me very carefully."
His ruby eyes met yours, wide, desperate, and searching for the truth.
"You are right about one thing," you started slowly. "You are not Riddle. You are not Azul. You are not Malleus. But they are not you.. Do you think Azul could bring an entire room of arguing students together just by laughing? Do you think Riddle could make a terrified first-year feel completely safe with a single smile?"
You shifted your hands, framing his face securely, refusing to let him look away.
"Your magic isn't your money, Kalim. Your magic is your heart."
Kalim’s breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly.
"You see the good in everyone," you continued fiercely, pouring every ounce of your love and respect into your words. "Even when they don't deserve it. Even when they are actively trying to hurt you, you forgive them. You offer them a hand. That level of kindness, that level of pure, unadulterated grace... it is the rarest, most powerful thing I have ever seen in this school. It takes a terrifying amount of strength to remain soft in a world that is constantly trying to harden you."
You leaned closer, your forehead almost touching his.
"People don't come to your parties for the food, Kalim. They come because being around you makes them feel warm. You make people feel like they belong. You don't buy our friendship. You earn it, every single day, just by being exactly who you are."
You let go of his face, reaching down to tap the leather cover of the scrapbook.
"Look at this book. Do you think Leona Kingscholar wrote this for you because you have money? Leona doesn't care about money. Do you think Trey drew that picture because he wanted a favor? No. They did it because they love you. Because you are Kalim. And Kalim is more than enough."
Kalim stared at you, his chest heaving as he struggled to process the sheer, overwhelming weight of your words. For his entire life, the narrative in his head had been singular: I am the heir. I must provide.
To have that narrative completely shattered, to be told that his very soul was the prize, not his wallet... it broke him open in the most beautiful, necessary way.
He let out a loud, breathless sob, a sound of absolute, transcendent relief.
He didn't hesitate. He surged forward, throwing his arms around you again, tackling you backward onto the soft grass. You went down with a laugh, landing on your back as Kalim held you with a desperate, crushing grip, burying his face in your chest.
"Thank you," Kalim cried, the words tumbling out of him in a joyful, messy torrent. "Thank you. You don't know how much I needed to hear that. I love you so much, Prefect. I love you so much."
"I love you too, Kalim," you laughed, wrapping your arms tightly around his back, holding him securely against you. "Happy birthday."
You lay there in the grass for a long time, the cool shade of the palm tree protecting you from the intense desert sun. Kalim eventually stopped crying, his heavy sobs slowing down into soft, contented sighs. The frantic, anxious energy that had been buzzing beneath his skin all day completely evaporated, leaving him completely relaxed, grounded, and at peace.
He eventually pushed himself up, resting his forearms on your chest, looking down at you with a smile that was so incredibly bright, so genuinely happy, that it practically glowed.
"You know," Kalim murmured, his voice slightly raspy from crying, but filled with absolute joy. "This is the best gift I have ever received in my entire life. Nothing else even comes close."
"I'm glad," you smiled, reaching up to gently brush a stray piece of grass out of his white hair. "I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to us."
Kalim’s eyes sparkled. The mischievous, energetic spark returned to his ruby eyes, replacing the vulnerability with his signature, boundless enthusiasm.
"Okay," Kalim declared, suddenly pushing himself off of you and jumping to his feet with an athletic grace that always surprised people. He reached down, offering you his hands. "You gave me a gift. Now, it is my turn to give you an experience."
You took his hands, letting him pull you up from the grass. "Kalim, it's your birthday. You don't have to give me anything."
"I want to!" Kalim insisted, his grin widening. He let go of your hands and turned toward the open expanse of the desert, raising his hands high into the air.
"Carpet! Come to me!" Kalim shouted, his voice ringing out across the oasis.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, from the direction of the Scarabia dorm, a blur of crimson and gold shot into the sky. It moved with incredible speed, weaving through the palm trees before coming to a sudden, perfectly controlled halt hovering just a few inches above the grass in front of you.
It was the Magic Carpet. The ancient, sentient artifact vibrated slightly, the golden tassels on its corners swaying as if greeting you.
"We still have an hour before Jamil finishes the banquet preparations," Kalim said, turning to you, his eyes practically practically shining with excitement. "Have you ever seen the desert from above during sunset?"
Your breath caught in your throat. You had ridden on the carpet a few times during rushed emergencies, but never just for the joy of it. "No. I haven't."
"Then today is the day!" Kalim cheered. He stepped onto the carpet, the ancient fabric holding his weight effortlessly. He turned, holding out his hand to you. "Come on. I promise I won't drop you."
You didn't hesitate. You took his hand and stepped onto the carpet. It felt strange beneath your feet—soft, yet incredibly firm, like standing on solid ground.
"Sit down," Kalim instructed gently. "It's safer that way if you aren't used to it."
You sat down cross-legged on the intricate crimson patterns. Kalim sat down right behind you. He didn't just sit near you; he shifted forward until his chest was pressed against your back. He wrapped both of his arms securely around your waist, his hands resting flat against your stomach, anchoring you completely against him.
"Ready?" Kalim whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
"Ready," you breathed, your heart hammering a frantic, excited rhythm against your ribs.
Kalim let out a sharp, joyful laugh. "Up!"
The Magic Carpet shot into the sky.
The acceleration was instantaneous and breathtaking. Your stomach dropped as the ground fell away beneath you in a blur of green and brown. You let out a loud gasp, your hands flying down to grip Kalim’s forearms instinctively.
"I've got you! You're perfectly safe!" Kalim shouted over the rushing wind, his grip on your waist tightening reassuringly.
The carpet broke through the canopy of the palm trees and soared high into the open sky above the Scarabia dorm. The sudden shift in perspective was staggering. From up here, the massive, opulent dormitory looked like a detailed miniature model.
But Kalim didn't stop there. He directed the carpet away from the campus, flying out over the vast, endless expanse of the desert dunes.
The wind whipped past you, loud and exhilarating, tearing through your hair and stinging your cheeks. It wasn't the stifling, oppressive heat of the ground; up here, the air was cool, crisp, and incredibly refreshing.
As the carpet leveled out, gliding smoothly through the air, you finally opened your eyes fully and looked at the horizon.
You audibly gasped.
The sun was beginning its descent, hanging low over the jagged, distant mountains. The sky had exploded into a breathtaking, violent canvas of color. Deep, bruised purples bled into fiery, vibrant oranges and brilliant streaks of magenta. The clouds were underlit with liquid gold, casting massive, shifting shadows across the rolling sea of sand below.
The desert itself looked alive. The dunes, which looked flat and monotonous from the ground, were revealed to be a complex, beautiful ocean of frozen waves, the peaks glowing bright orange while the valleys sank into deep, cool violet shadows.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Kalim murmured, his voice soft, speaking directly into your ear to be heard over the wind.
"It's incredible," you whispered, completely mesmerized by the sheer scale of the landscape.
"This is my favorite thing to do," Kalim confessed, resting his chin gently on your shoulder. "When everything gets too loud, or when I feel like I'm drowning in all the expectations... I come up here. The carpet knows exactly where to go. Up here, I'm not the heir to the Asim family. I'm not the Housewarden. I'm just Kalim. I'm just a boy in the sky."
You leaned back against him, completely surrendering to his embrace. The firm, solid warmth of his body behind you provided an incredible sense of security. You weren't afraid of the height. You weren't afraid of falling. You trusted him implicitly.
"I'm glad you brought me," you said, turning your head slightly to look at him.
Kalim was already looking at you. The golden light of the setting sun caught his white hair, turning it into a halo of fire. His ruby eyes were soft, filled with a deep, profound affection that made your breath catch all over again.
He didn't say anything. He simply shifted his weight, leaning forward slightly, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.
The touch was gentle, completely devoid of his usual frantic energy. It was a quiet, deliberate promise.
"Thank you," Kalim whispered against your skin. "For seeing me."
"Always," you promised, turning your head just an inch more, capturing his lips in a real kiss.
The kiss was sweet, warm, and perfectly balanced, suspended high above the world. The wind roared around you, the carpet glided effortlessly beneath you, but in that singular moment, everything felt entirely still. It tasted of honey, the cool desert air, and the overwhelming, undeniable warmth of Kalim Al-Asim’s true heart.
When you pulled away, Kalim was smiling—a soft, incredibly content smile that completely changed his face. He looked older, grounded, and entirely at peace.
He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you as the carpet continued to fly over the dunes, chasing the setting sun. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, watching the sky transition from gold to a deep, starry indigo.
Eventually, the reality of the impending party could no longer be ignored.
"Jamil is definitely going to kill me if we don't head back," Kalim sighed reluctantly, though there was no real fear in his voice.
"He won't kill you," you laughed. "But he might definitely kill me for keeping you away so long."
"I won't let him!" Kalim declared fiercely, his signature energy returning. He tapped the carpet. "Alright, buddy. Back to the dorm!"
The carpet banked sharply, turning back toward the glowing lights of Night Raven College. The flight back was faster, Kalim pushing the carpet to greater speeds, the two of you laughing as the wind tore past you.
When the carpet finally descended into the main courtyard of Scarabia, the transformation was complete.
The dormitory was a masterpiece. The massive silver braziers were lit, casting a warm, flickering light over the courtyard. The silk banners fluttered beautifully in the evening breeze. The long banquet tables were groaning under the weight of an impossible amount of food—mountains of saffron rice, roasted meats dripping with juices, platters of fresh fruits, and towering, intricate sugar sculptures that defied gravity.
The courtyard was packed with students from every dorm. Ace and Deuce were already hovering near the food, trying to sneak a pastry. Cater was taking a dozen selfies with the floral arrangements. Leona was asleep on a pile of incredibly expensive silk pillows in the corner, while Ruggie was discreetly loading a massive Tupperware container with expensive cuts of beef.
Standing at the head of the main table, looking exhausted but undeniably proud of his work, was Jamil.
Kalim hopped off the carpet, offering you a hand to help you down. You slung your messenger bag over your shoulder, checking to make sure the scrapbook was safe.
"JAMIL!" Kalim shouted, his voice returning to its full, booming volume.
He sprinted across the courtyard. Jamil braced himself, but Kalim didn't just hug him; he practically tackled the Vice Housewarden, wrapping his arms around him in a massive, crushing embrace.
"Kalim! Get off me! You are ruining my uniform!" Jamil snapped, his face flushing with embarrassment as the other students turned to look.
"Thank you!" Kalim cheered, completely ignoring the protests. "This is amazing! You did such a wonderful job! I appreciate you so much, Jamil!"
Jamil froze. The struggling stopped. He looked at Kalim, expecting the usual oblivious cheerfulness. But Kalim was looking at him with a deep, genuine, profound sincerity. The words weren't an empty pleasantry; they carried the weight of true, seeing gratitude.
Jamil’s expression softened, just a fraction of an inch. He let out a long, heavy sigh, awkwardly patting Kalim on the back.
"Just... don't eat the sugar sculptures before the main course," Jamil muttered, though the sharp edge was completely gone from his voice. "Happy birthday, Kalim."
Kalim let go, spinning around to face the entire courtyard. He raised his hands high, a brilliant, blinding smile crossing his face.
"WELCOME EVERYONE!" Kalim roared, his joy infecting the entire crowd instantly. "EAT! DRINK! DANCE! TONIGHT, WE CELEBRATE!"
The courtyard erupted into cheers. The music started—a fast, rhythmic, heavily percussive beat that immediately got people moving.
Kalim turned back to you, stepping through the crowd until he was standing in front of you again. He held out his hand, his ruby eyes dancing with excitement.
"Dance with me?" Kalim asked, offering a dramatic, theatrical bow.
"I don't know the steps," you laughed, taking his hand.
"It doesn't matter!" Kalim grinned, pulling you into the center of the courtyard. "Just move! I'll guide you!"
And he did. For the rest of the night, Kalim Al-Asim was exactly where he was meant to be—in the center of the joy, surrounded by the people he loved, spinning you around the dance floor until you were both breathless and laughing hysterically.
But this time, as he danced, as he laughed, and as he smiled... there was no fear behind his eyes.
He wasn't throwing the party to buy their love. He was throwing the party because he was the Sun of Scarabia. And tonight, he knew, with absolute certainty, that even if the gold vanished, the sun would still rise, and he would never be alone.
----
A truly magnificent, towering feast for the boy with the biggest heart in Twisted Wonderland!
It is incredibly important to remember that even the brightest lights need a safe space to cast off their shadows. I hope this serving provided Kalim with the love, validation, and soaring freedom he truly deserves on his special day.
summary: Kalim is more complex than most people realize, and even he isn't immune to negative emotions. during a quiet night, he spills his guts about not feeling enough, which leads to a heart to heart shared between you both.
pairing: kalim al asim x gn! reader
tw: mentions of neglect and toxic family life
note: this is lowkey a character study, and I hope I didn't botch Kalim. I do think he's more complex than we realize, and I really wanted to give him a space to unpack that. I love Kalim sm, he's seriously underrated.
wc: 1.9k
Master List
No one really saw past Kalim’s sunny smile and joyous disposition. To the world, he was a naive, overly happy, spoiled son of one of the most rich merchant families in the world. He had important ties, his own cousin being the prince of the Scalding Sands. Many people liked to use Kalim’s personality to their advantage, it didn’t help that he was so willing to give everything he had away. Yet if anyone took a chance to look deeper, you would start to see the cracks in the foundation.
While Kalim was the firstborn son, it doesn’t mean that he got much love and attention from his family, as not only did he have caretakers, but five siblings followed him shortly after. Kalim learned that he had to smile all the time, to be happy, because if he showed fear, sadness or anger, his younger siblings quickly latched on to those emotions, and it could have disastrous effects. His younger sister scraped her knee? He’d smile brightly, calling her brave as he handed her a lollipop as the attendants cleaned and bandaged it. His younger brother was sad because they hadn’t seen their father in a long time? Big hugs and smiles as he takes him on an adventure to get his mind off of the lack of attention their parents gave.
Outside of Jamil, Kalim had learned from a young age that many people did not care for him outside of what he could offer them. During elegant parties hosted by his families, the older folks would comment on what he would inherit in his future, side eyeing his clothes, his jewelry, and him as a person. While he was mainly taught in his home, the times he did try to bond with other kids his age, they’d all ooo and awe at his jewels, and ask for food, or money, and if he didn’t give them what they wanted they grew disinterested.
Even Jamil wasn’t truly his friend, but an indentured servant who was tasked with caring for Kalim. Kalim wanted nothing more than to befriend Jamil, but Jamil couldn’t look past his anger and hatred towards being put in such a position, and blamed Kalim for all his problems in life. It was unfair for all parties involved (though it was more unfair for Jamil than anyone else).
Then you came into the picture. Kalim treated you like anyone else, with enthusiasm and joy at the thought of a potential new friend. His first thought was to shower you with parties and parades, because if he didn’t entertain you, would you leave him too? Yet you were different. You didn’t take every chance to accept more of his money, you didn’t bask in the parades and parties. In fact, you would pull him away, in a secluded, tucked in area and get to know him better personally. When he tried to lavish you in extra jewelry he had, you merely put it back on him and would say something along the lines of–
“It looks better on you.”
In fact, you introduced him to something he wasn’t used to. While he loved his siblings with all his heart, he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the tensions they felt as they grew, the disdain they may hold for him as the oldest. He also loved Jamil, he wanted to believe with his whole heart that Jamil genuinely cared for him back, but he couldn’t ignore the sighs, nor the looks of annoyance sent towards him. But who would like him if he showed that it affected him? Kalim didn’t want to be alone, so he did his best to just suck it up and take everything.
Then you did something no one had before. You always looked at him with genuine curiosity for what he had to say. You would ask him what he preferred, and why. You would sit with him even if there was no party, nor parade, or even adventure. He didn’t have to always be loud, or enthusiastic, or have to do anything to keep your attention, you just…cared. You seemed to genuinely like him, and it made him all warm and fuzzy and made him up his antics even more than normal when you were around. He couldn’t help it! He just loved you so much it made him volatile! He was always so giddy around you he felt like a volcano about to burst!
Yet things started changing. As his fondness and love for you continued each day, the thought of not seeing you felt suffocating, you started to drift a little. Not in a big way. You still smiled brightly when Kalim was silly, you would still link your arms together, or greet him with a giant squeeze of a hug, but your eyes would drift. Your time spent with him felt shared, no longer something sacred shared between you both.
Kalim loved you, and he loved Jamil, and seeing you both get along so well made his heart swell with joy. It was all he could ask for, two of the most important people in his life also like each other. So why did it hurt him when you turned your focus away from him when Jamil would enter the room? Why did it ruin his mood when you smiled when mentioning something Jamil told you? Why did it feel like he was losing you when you never even left his side? He wasn’t used to such unpleasant emotions swirling within him. Everything else he could handle, the neglect, the fickle, the feeling of never being quite enough. Yet this, the questioning, wondering if he was enough, if you’d grow bored and it just took you longer to come to the same conclusion as everyone else.
It was eating him alive.
He found himself clinging to you more, absorbing the amused smile you sent his way each time he’d cling to you more. He’d make sure your favorite dishes were always present when you were around, hoping at the very least you would come back for the food. He was honestly a chaotic mess. To the untrained eye, he was just acting like normal, sunshine incarnate, but you noticed. You always did. You noticed the way Kalim’s smile would strain, like he was mourning something he had yet to lose. The way he would beg you to stay more and more often, like he was never going to see you again. You hated it.
It was growing late, Kalim’s sunny temperament hadn’t died down in the slightest as the two of you laid side by side. You watched on silently as his smile dimmed, not from being unhappy, just the need for rest finally catching up, his ruby eyes drooped as your heads rested on pillows. Yet that one question that had been gnawing on you slipped past your sleepy mind.
“Are you okay?” You ask, fingers curling by your silk pillow, eyes taking in the housewarden across from you.
“Of course I am,” Kalim smiles, his own hand inching closer to your own, the urge to hold it itching him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’ve been acting strange recently,” You explain, shifting your head to get more comfortable. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. It’s okay if you’re not, I don’t mind listening.”
Something in him cracked at that. The way your hair fell around your face, the two of you under his blanket pulled up to your shoulders. He really, really, really didn’t want to lose you. You had become someone so special to him, and he cherished you more than he could ever realize, and he couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Do you like me?”
It came out like a scared animal, hushed and vulnerable. Something that was so unlike him.
“Of course.”
Your reply was instant, not an ounce of hesitation. You cared for him so much, and you didn’t want him second guessing that.
Kalim’s hand inched towards your own once more, your pinkies brushing as his eyes settled towards the contact, “Sometimes I feel like you’ll grow bored of me.” The admission was honest, coming from a deep place that had been slowly bleeding for years that he kept covered with his reassuring smile and naivete.
Your heart clenched, eyebrows furrowing at such a statement. Linking your pinkies, you contest his negative thought, “I’d never grow bored of you. I like you Kalim, more than you realize. I never want you to think otherwise. I love spending time with you, because you are so kind, sweet, and caring and you make me feel seen in ways no one else has.”
“Really?” He asks, eyes peering into yours, trying to find any hint of deception (he finds none). “Because you make me feel that way too. You make me so happy, I never want this to end.”
“It may change,” You murmur, shuffling a bit closer. “But it doesn’t have to end.”
“Will you stay with me?” Kalim can’t help but to ask, also shuffling closer to you, his hand wrapping around yours. “After we graduate, and if you haven’t found a way back home yet. Would you come home with me? I’ll make sure you’re well cared for.”
“I already am well cared for,” You grin, kissing the back of his hand, effectively melting his heart. “I’m honored you’d bring me with you.”
“Of course I’d bring you!” Kalim pouts, your faces merely inches apart, you intertwined hands pinned between you both. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Would your parents be okay with that though?” You question, doubts creeping in. As much as you’d love to imagine a sunny paradise with Kalim by your side, things were never that simple.
“They’ll have to be,” He huffed, finally relaxing as your warmth seeped into him. “‘Cus if you can’t come back with me, then I’d just follow you.”
“I love you.”
The words left your lips without permission, but you meant it wholeheartedly. Kalim’s grin brightened, no more doubts and insecurities pulling it down. A great weight finally lifted off his heart, and he couldn’t stop himself from letting go of your hand to wrap you in a giant hug.
“I love you too!” He exclaimed, burying his head in the nape of your neck. “I love you so so so so so much! Let's have a huge wedding! With peacocks, and elephants! I’ll make sure no one can doubt how much I love you.”
You can’t help but laugh, slightly flustered at both Kalim being so close, as well as him already planning your marriage. It seems that that answers if you both were confessing as friends or not (not that you minded).
“I don’t think anyone can doubt that,” You smile, arms wrapped around his torso as you nuzzle your face into the top of his head. “I only ask that you don’t doubt my love either.”
“I won’t!” Kalim shouts, pulling away slightly to meet your eyes, his face deadly serious. “I’m sorry for doubting you before, it won’t happen ever again. I promise.”
“I believe you,” You chuckle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now let’s go to sleep, I’m tired.”
“Okay,” He murmurs, falling back into place and snuggling as close as he can to you. “Can you sleep over tomorrow too? And the night after that? This is really nice.”
“Sure,” You agree, fingers carding through his short hair, the lull of sleep slowly claiming you.
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