#heartsabyul

[iamoyaya]

Pieces I've done for a vid :D

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[i-yonakaruz-i]

-| Dormleaders as your Older Brother |-

Warning: Angst

Character: Riddle Rosehearts, 1 (you're here), 2, 3, 4, 5

Being Riddle Rosehearts’ younger sibling was never gentle.

Your life had been measured out in neat little increments long before you were old enough to understand what choice even meant. Every hour was scheduled, every mistake catalogued, every success treated not as praise-worthy, but expected. Your mother’s love was conditional, sharp-edged, and suffocating—given only when you were perfect, and withdrawn the moment you faltered. There was no room for scraped knees, for laughter too loud, for curiosity that strayed outside her carefully drawn lines.

But once—once—it hadn’t been so unbearable.

Because you had Riddle.

Riddle, who used to sneak you sugar cubes under the table when Mother wasn’t looking. Riddle, who whispered stories to you at night about roses that grew thorns only to protect something precious. Riddle, who would take your hand when Mother’s voice grew cold and say, “It’s alright. I’m here.” Your big brother, your shield, your safest place.

And then he broke a rule.

You remembered the day everything changed with painful clarity—the way Mother’s disappointment had cut deeper than any blade, the way Riddle had gone quiet after. Not angry. Not rebellious. Just… hollow. From then on, the warmth he’d once shown you slowly froze over, buried beneath obedience and silence. He still helped you study. Still corrected your posture. Still made sure you ate properly.

But he stopped seeing you.

Still, you loved him. Of course you did. That love clung stubbornly to old memories, even as your mother’s comparisons gnawed away at your chest.

“Why can’t you be more like your brother?”

“Riddle never struggled with this.”

“Riddle understands the importance of discipline.”

No matter how hard you tried, you were always standing in his shadow—never quite enough, never quite right. And somewhere along the way, you began to wonder if Riddle saw you the same way she did: a disappointment waiting to happen.

By the time you arrived at Night Raven College as a first-year under Heartsabyul, you’d already learned how to make yourself small.

You weren’t a bad student. You studied, you listened, you tried. Your grades were decent—good, even, by most standards. But “good” meant nothing in a household that demanded perfection. And with Riddle as Housewarden, those expectations followed you like a curse.

You told yourself it was fine.

He still looked out for you. Still corrected you before others could. Still ensured you didn’t fall too far behind. For you, that was enough. You didn’t need affection. You didn’t need softness.

You just needed him not to turn his back on you completely.

So when his voice snapped through the rose garden—sharp, furious, unmistakable—you felt your heart drop before you even heard your name.

“Y/N.”

You flinched instinctively, your steps faltering as you turned. Ace and Deuce slowed beside you, concern flashing briefly across their faces—but neither dared speak. Riddle stood a short distance away, face flushed red with rage, eyes blazing as he clenched something in his hand.

“Riddle…” Your voice came out small.

He held up a few crushed, wilting flowers—roses torn cruelly from their stems. “What,” he demanded, every word clipped and precise, “is the meaning of this?”

You blinked, genuinely confused. “Flowers…?”

“Do not feign ignorance,” he snapped. “According to rule two hundred and twenty-eight, flowers in the Heartsabyul gardens must never be picked on Wednesdays. You of all people should know that.”

The pieces clicked together slowly, dread pooling in your stomach. “Are you… accusing me of picking them?”

Riddle’s jaw tightened. “Do you take me for a fool?” He threw the flowers aside as if disgusted by them—and by extension, by you. “Who else would possess the audacity to break such a simple rule? You have been testing my patience as of late!”

Your chest hurt. “I didn’t—”

“First, I learn you failed your History of Magic exam,” he continued relentlessly, voice rising, “and now this! You flagrantly break rules and expect me to overlook it? Is this some pathetic attempt to gain attention?”

Something inside you cracked.

“Well, are you happy now?!” he shouted. “You have my attention, Y/N!”

“You didn’t even ask if it was me!” you cried, your hands curling into fists. “You just assumed! I was with Ace and Deuce all day—you didn’t even check!”

“Do not talk back to me.”

“I will when my own brother is—”

“I am your Housewarden.”

The words struck harder than any slap.

Your breath caught as you saw him lift his magic pen, terror freezing you in place. “Riddle—wait—!”

“Off with your head.”

Pain exploded through you as magic wrapped cruelly around your throat. You hit the ground hard, gasping as a heart-shaped collar locked into place, severing your connection to magic entirely. The world felt distant, muffled, as though you were drowning.

“You have disappointed me enough,” Riddle said coldly, turning away. “Get out of my sight.”

You lay there for a moment too long, staring at the ground beneath you. Not at the pain. Not at the humiliation.

But at the sound of his voice—so much like Mother’s.

“Riddle…” you whispered, voice breaking, but he didn’t turn back.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up. Your hands trembled as you wiped at your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall in front of him. When you finally looked at him again, he was already walking away.

You glared—not in anger, but in hurt so deep it burned.

And then you turned your back, too.

Neither of you reached out.

And for the first time, the space between you felt permanent.

[aceies-desiresxx]

|| Heartslabyul Boys as your Exes ||

synopsis: you broke the hearts' of the rule ridden students. how will they go about their school life now?

⚠️: some foul language, mentions of nervous habits, toxic and spiraling thoughts + feelings, overstepping boundaries

📓: In honor of the first episode of the anime and the respark of the fandom! I'm so hype for all the new fics this'll cause. yippeeee.

here's savanaclaw

requests are open! please send me stuff 😙

Riddle Rosehearts

"..."

He hasn't spoken to you since. Hell, he didn't even speak to you when you delivered the news. He stared at you, then looked to the floor for a split second before he returned his gaze to you. You saw his jaw clench, you knew it wasn't just out of anger. Riddle has always been emotional, you knew he was trying to stop the tears before they flooded out. He knew you knew he was close to crying. So to save face, he harshly turned around and quickly stormed off. He wanted to get as far away as possible from everything. Since then, you have never locked eyes with him. He busied himself with more work, more event planning, more students to discipline, and more rules to enforce. You'll never actually see him around anymore. You'll see glimpses of what you thought was blurred red hair out of the corner of your eye, but nothing more. He knew not to trust someone like that, you only took away time and focus from his studies. Too much time... and focus... and now you're plagueing his every thought.

Trey Clover

"Oh... alright. I'm glad you were able to tell me. We can still be friends though, right?"

He felt like he had been stabbed with a rusty kitchen knife. He was hurt, but he didn't want you to feel any worse. He'd figured that you already felt like shit, given the look in your eyes. He offered a weak smile and joked about having to help out the underclassmen before Riddle got to them first. He bid goodbye and walked away, holding his breath so he wouldn't let out a soft sob. He still sends polite smiles your way whenever you pass eachother in the halls. He still throws out a joke or two when the silence becomes too much. He still leaves baskets of baked goods on Ramshackle's doorsteps because he knows "how much Grimm loves them". To everyone else it seems like things ended smoothly, but they aren't there at the ass crack of dawn when he sits on the edge of his bed with his face buried in his shaky hands.

Cater Diamond

"...I... No i totally understand! Sometimes people just don't click, it's alright."

But you clicked for him? You clicked louder than any digital camera ever had. You were the only person who'd fit perfectly in all of the jagged and imperfect edges he hid behind crafted filters. He had thought that with you he could drop that mask and let out his blunt words, his tired expression, and his sarcastic impulses. He obviously thought wrong, his real self was too much right? It must suck dating someone so gloomy. So back up the facade goes. Better reinforced this time. Very peppy and so so so fucking fake. This time the mask might crack from him straining too hard. His nail biting has gotten worse, he's making nail appointments almost every week now. His posting increases 10 fold, in hopes something will land on your feed, and show you how great he's doing. He goes through old, saved date ideas, and visits them himself, it's a reminder to himself of everything he lost for not keeping up his image.

Deuce Spade

"...I'm sorry. Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

He knew he would fuck it up somehow. You were too perfect for him, and his dodgey background was sure to catch up to him. Even if he hadn't done anything wrong, he blames himself. You wouldn't break up with him for no reason, he must've hurt you unknowingly. The whole relationship he had tried to tone evrything down, he would never want to frighten you. Maybe you didn't feel safe around him, or realized that he would amount to nothing, or felt like he didn't love you enough. He's quiet after, especially around you. He tries to shrink himself. Make himself look docile. He overworks himself in everything, he has to improve maybe then he'll be worth your time. He spents hours on the track and in the library. He helps prepare and attend every single Heartslabyul event. His eyes always scan the place in hopes that you'll come this time, and see that he really has changed. He can be whatever you want him to be.

Ace Trappola

"What..? Stop trying to be funny, I thought you were being... serious..."

He almost threw up. He knows he's been getting you both into trouble recently, but he didn't mean any harm. Not his fault things just happen to turn out that way. At first he thinks you're just trying to get back at him for having to clean the entire dorm from his previous shenanigins, but he quickly realizes you're being serious. He plays it off with a laugh, he says "it's fine." and "no, don't feel bad or anything, we're still friends". Friends. Yeah that's fine. He could work with that. He still hangs around you, to him things feel almost the same as before. He still laughs and teases Grimm, retreats to Ramshackle after being chased out by Riddle, and helps himself to your snacks. You're friends. This is normal. It's just as normal as him touching your shoulder, or always sitting right by you at lunch, or fighting with Duece and Grimm over who gets to be your lab partner. Because you both are partners. Were partners. Now you're friends. Just friends.

[kefiteria]

Frugality of Kefi || Heartsabyul Ver.

Ace / Deuce / Cater / Trey / Riddle x GN! reader

slightly tiny tiny very little existential crises angst (trust me) + comfort

[masterlist]

You’ve been kicking the stones down the pavement of NRC, and now they have led you to an open space that hums with life—careless, blinding, unapologetic life. Students drift past, some bent over books whose pages flutter like trapped birds, others wrestling mandrakes that twist and writhe, a few moving back to their dorms as if the world itself were too heavy to notice. And they do not notice you. Not a glance or a gesture. Not a single flicker of acknowledgment.

Yet, somehow, it is all aimed at you. The sunlight glints off a coin tossed from hand to hand, and you flinch, though it touches nothing but air. The turning page of a book catches a gleam, and you feel a pulse of accusation in its brief sparkle. Hair swings in a carefree arc, laughter rings sharp as a bell, and for a moment you are certain: all existence—the colour, the motion, the very breath of it—knows you are here and takes subtle delight in testing you.

The sunset slants low and insolent, painting the courtyard in streaks of gold and violet that seem almost violent in their intensity. You walk through it, head down, lungs tight, cheeks pale, a fool surrounded by a world that will not pause, that will not soften, that will not bend. Every heartbeat is too loud, every shadow too sharp, every colour too alive, until you wonder if your body was never meant to hold this much life.

And still, you move. Kicking stones because you can do nothing else.

Ace Trapolla

Ace was confused why you were kicking stones like you’re trying to keep yourself from unravelling. At first, he thinks you’re just bored… until he actually watches your face.

He steps right into your path with that lazy confidence, hands behind his head, acting like he “just happened” to be passing by. The sunset catches on his hair, making him look more smug than usual.

He jokes instantly because that’s his first instinct: “Careful, you’re gonna get fined for property damage at this rate.”

Ace has a closer look, and the teasing drops. His expression softens in that rare, unguarded way he thinks no one notices.

“… Hey. You look kinda messed up. Like—emotionally, not… y’know, your face.”

Even with NRC buzzing around—students shouting, mandrakes wailing—Ace shifts just a little closer, creating a quiet space around you without making a big deal out of it.

Offers to walk with you, but makes it sound like it’s for his sake: “If I let you wander alone, you’re gonna end up kicking every rock from here to the dorms. I’ll supervise.”

Gently sends the pebble back toward you with his shoe. Not mocking—just a quiet gesture, like he’s giving you something to focus on.

“You’re stuck with me now. Deal with it.”

Deuce Spade

Sees you kicking stones and immediately assumes you’re in trouble—not emotionally, but like… actual trouble.

He freezes and thinks, Did someone bully you? Did you get cursed? Should I call a teacher? He overthinks for a full five seconds before approaching.

Marches up to you with that straight-backed, honour-student seriousness he tries very hard to maintain.

“Hey! Are you—”

Stops mid-sentence when he sees your expression and completely loses his script? His voice softens instantly, a little shaky because he’s not good at delicate things: “… You’re upset.”

The surrounding courtyard both stays loud, but Deuce acts like none of it exists, focusing entirely on you like he’s ready to fight the sun itself if it’s bothering you. Fumbles with his hands, opening and closing them because he wants to help but doesn’t know how.

Ends up blurting; “Do you… want water? Should I get water? I can run!” (He is 100% ready to sprint across campus for you.)

When you don’t respond right away, he calms himself with a deep breath—the kind he learned in delinquent reform lessons—and speaks more gently: “You don’t have to explain anything. I’ll just stay with you.”

Walks beside you, stiff at first, then gradually relaxing into your pace. He glances at you every few seconds, worried but trying not to stare. When a pebble rolls forward again, he instinctively kicks it away—too hard—sending it flying into a bush.

“… Sorry. I didn’t mean to attack your rock.”

After a moment of silence, he tries again, quieter and truer,“If the world feels heavy… let me carry some of it. Even if it’s just walking next to you.”

“I’m not leaving you by yourself. Not today.”

Cater Diamond

He’s scrolling through Magicam, posing with a half-formed smile, then pauses when he catches the way you’re kicking stones—slow, aimless, hollow. His eyes flick up from the screen, sharp and assessing beneath the easy grin.

He approaches lightly, footsteps soft, as if he’s afraid of stepping on the wrong emotion. “Heyyy, [y/n]! You doing a dramatic walk for my feed or what?” It’s playful, but there’s a question buried underneath.

When you don’t banter back, Cater’s smile doesn’t fade—it adjusts. Warmer. Less polished. The kind of smile he gives when he’s paying attention rather than performing. “… Rough day?”

The courtyard is loud—students shouting, magic crackling—but Cater shifts his position, so his body slightly screens you from the chaos. A subtle, practiced gesture of protection from someone who knows exactly what noise can do to a tired heart.

He twirls his phone once, then pockets it completely—rare for him and quietly meaningful. “Don’t worry, I’m off-duty. No filters, no pressure.” He says it like he’s offering you a safe zone.

Walks beside you with a bounce in his step, but you can feel him adjusting his pace to match yours—not too energetic, not too slow. He tilts his head, studying you from the corner of his eye, like he’s picking up micro-expressions.

When you kick another stone, Cater crouches to pick it up, rolling it between his fingers thoughtfully. “Y’know… sometimes when I keep moving like that, it’s because stopping feels worse.”

His voice is airy, but the words come from somewhere deeper. Tosses the pebble gently into the air and catches it.

“If you wanna keep walking, I’m here. If you wanna sit, I’m here. If you wanna vent, scream, run, hide—guess what? Still here.”

A flicker of loneliness glints in his eyes—something he thinks no one ever sees. Then he bumps his shoulder lightly against yours.

“Let me be your cheer squad for today, okay? Doesn’t have to be pretty. Doesn’t have to be Magicam-worthy. Just has to be honest.”

Trey Clover

Trey notices you before you ever notice him. He’s carrying a small box of pastries for Heartslabyul, walking with his usual unhurried calm, when he sees you drifting through the courtyard like someone trying not to drown in bright air.

He slows his steps—not to startle you, but to watch for a moment. Likewise, he recognizes the look: someone overwhelmed, someone holding too much. He’s seen it in younger students… and, quietly, in the mirror.

Approaches without fanfare, voice warm and grounded: “Evening. You’re walking like your thoughts weigh more than your bag.” It’s gentle, a soft invitation rather than a question.

When you don’t brush it off with humour, Trey’s expression softens. No pity—just understanding. He shifts his stance a little closer, offering presence without pressure.

The courtyard swirls with noise, but Trey seems to create a calm perimeter around you just by being there. Some people are loud support; Trey is silence made comforting.

He lifts the pastry box slightly. “… Hungry? Sometimes something sweet helps you breathe a little easier.”

He’s not trying to fix you—just offering ease.

Walks beside you, matching your pace exactly. His footsteps are steady, even, a quiet rhythm to lean on. He doesn’t fill the air with chatter; he fills it with reliability.

Notices you kicking another stone and watches it roll ahead. “… When I used to do that, it meant I was avoiding going home.” He says it lightly, not to make it about him, but to show you, you’re not strange for feeling this way.

“If you want to walk until your mind settles, I’ll come with you. If you want to sit in the shade, that’s fine too.” Trey always gives choices instead of advice.

He holds out one of the pastries—still warm. “Take this one. It’s the softest. Good for bad days.” The kindness in his tone isn’t dramatic—it’s the kind that reaches you slowly, like warmth through fabric.

As the sunset paints long shadows across the courtyard, Trey simply walks beside you. Not demanding, not fixing—just existing with you, steady as a heartbeat.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone. Not while I’m here.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle notices you first by the way your footsteps drag—light against the stone, yet heavy in intent. The sunset clings to you like a cloak of tired gold, and something in his chest tightens, sharp and immediate.

His steps toward you are neat, precise, controlled… but there’s a tremor in his breath he hopes the wind will hide. He stops a polite distance away, posture straight against the soft, sinking evening.

“You seem… unsteady.”

The words leave him carefully, like porcelain set on a table. His tone is gentle, but edged with that earnest firmness only Riddle carries.

The fading light spills across your face, and he sees it—your exhaustion, your quiet ache. It startles him more than any rule broken or protocol ignored. His expression softens, the way clouds soften before rain.

Around you both, NRC hums with life—laughter, footsteps, magic sparking in careless arcs—but Riddle shifts subtly, positioning himself between you and the brightest of it, as if he could shield you from the world’s glare.

His hands fold neatly, but you notice the slightest twitch in his fingers—as if he is fighting the urge to reach out. “… I apologize if I intruded. I simply… noticed.” His voice catches on the last word.

When you kick another small stone, he watches it roll, the motion mirrored faintly in his own eyes—recognition, not reprimand. “You walk like someone trying to outpace their thoughts.”

He offers his presence with the same seriousness he gives his duties: “We can walk together. You needn’t speak until you choose to.”

The sunset brushes his red hair with a violet sheen, and he glances at you sidelong, voice dropping to something fragile but sincere: “… The world can be… unbearably bright. I know that feeling more than most.”

“If my company lightens even a fraction of the weight on you… then you have it.” He walks with you—small, measured steps that match your rhythm, his presence like a narrow corridor of calm carved through the noise.

“… You matter more than you believe. Allow me to prove that, one step at a time.”

[groundzerosgirlfriend]

Twisted Wonderland:

Riddle Rosehearts & Reader who smokes.

Hey everyone! I'm not dead lol. College is currently kicking my ass and life got away from me. *Dramatic sigh* being an adult is hard 😞. Anyway enjoy this small little drabble I made while freezing my ass off at home when I suddenly remembered my account.

Riddle Rosehearts 🥰

Does not approve boyfriend number #1 (I plan to do all the dorm leaders!)

Second most furious about this habit of yours only being beaten out by our glorious Queen Vil who unlike Riddle will silently shame out of smoking so hard it actually hurts. (Stay tuned?)

You had probably stopped for a little while as obtaining cigarettes without any legal documentation of your age was a hassle in this universe and Sam despite always looking for a way to make money wasn't too keen on selling cigarettes to you despite your insistence of being old enough (whether this is a lie is up to you).

You eventually persuaded him (though it took some serious begging on your part) to give you one carton to which he deviously upsold to you of course. But at this point you really didn't care simply desperate for a smoke. Broke or not.

You had just failed another one of Trein's history tests which you're sure was worth half your grade, Ace had thought of the 'bright' idea to skip Crewel's class dragging you, Deuce and Grim into it causing a punishment of a weeks' worth of detention and now Crowley was up your ass with more paperwork. You deserved this smoke you reasoned with yourself what nobody knew (besides Sam) wouldn't hurt them.

Finally cooped up in your dorm room (for once you were grateful to be in Ramshackle all by yourself well if you don't count the ghosts or grim) cigarette in hand mere seconds away from lighting the butt and having some well-deserved relaxation. A firm knock on Ramshackle's main dorm makes you aware of a visitor and makes your eye twitch with the awful timing of whoever it was.

You grunt shoving the cigarette in your pocket making sure it was well hidden from prying eyes and stomping downstairs. As you swing the door open about to aggressively tell whoever it was to go away, you get quiet and meek at the sight of Riddle standing there politely arms folded checking his pocket watch. Your attitude immediately changes at the sight of your boyfriend and suddenly your smoke break doesn't seem so important.

He finally notices you've opened the door and immediately begins speaking to you politely and gentlemanly a habit he refuses to drop despite the flush on his face so deep he looks like one of the painted roses her fusses about on the daily (though it is quite endearing). "Rose, I apologize for the extemporaneous arrival, but I would like to formally invite you to a unbirthday party in Heartslabyul." He looks at you the expression on his face solemn though his fingers are interlocked a tell-tale sign of his nervousness as he waits for an answer.

You giggle softly at his hidden nervousness knowing that he probably just wanted to spend time with you, stepping out of your dorm and outside with him and closing the heavy rickety door and giving a curtsy. "I'd love to My Queen." As he leads you to the Magic Mirror to Heartslabyul asking you cordially about your day you can't help internally sigh at having to wait for your smoke break once more before lamenting and ranting to him about your ever-growing stress.

You finally reach to Heartslabyul and 'surprise surprise' nothing is ready as yet, (we're not surprised) the table isn't properly set, the roses aren't all painted the familiar red color, even the desserts and tea aren't finished, causing Riddle to sigh as he gives you an apologetic look and storms off to look for his misbehaving upper and under classmen.

You only give him a smile back secretly grateful for the incompetence of Deuce and Ace for once as you use this opportunity to utilize your much needed smoke. Trekking into the maze of roses into a secret and hidden area Riddle had showed when he first asked you to be his romantic partner (a fond memory to this day of the red-haired tyrant stuttering and as red-faced as his beloved tarts) you sit legs crossed in the grass hidden by the shrubs and take the cigarette out of your pocket.

The sound of your lighter clicking and producing the singular fiery flame brings back memories as you let it flicker at the butt of cigarette for a moment turning a golden orange red as it burns before putting the lighter away securely and placing the cigarette between your licks sucking and blowing effortlessly. With every plume of smoke that leaves your nose. The toxic fumes leaving a familiar burn in your lungs you fall deeper and deeper into relaxation tuning out all the stress in your life in this moment.

In fact, you're so lost in your relaxation that you don't hear the approaching footsteps or the suspicious rustling of the leaves. In fact, you don't notice anything until a firm and equally confused "My rose? What are you doing?" pulls you out of your daydream. You hiss as you look up and spot Riddle immediately licking the fingertips of your thumb and pointer finger and extinguishing out the butt and stand up slightly embarrassed.

Riddle doesn't say anything at first, he just simply leads you out of the maze and to the unbirthday party table where the students wait for the two of you to arrive to begin. Throughout it all Riddle gives you a knowing look causing you to sigh and slump in your chair knowing you were in for a lecture.

And a lecture you received indeed after the unbirthday party was over Riddle invited you to his dorm room (though it was less of an invite and more of a 'you don't really have a choice') practically interrogating you all sorts of questions about your smoking habit "How long have you been smoking" "How many times do you smoke a day?", "Is there something that makes you feel like you need to smoke." "Would you consider other ways to deal with your stress?"

It's overall a headache to listen to and answer all his questions in a way he deems acceptable (but he's doing it because he loves you!). This man is so extra he'll go out of his way to make a PowerPoint presentation invite (force) all of the students of the dorm including you even though you're not an official member to talk about the danger's drugs and alcohol and how they affect an adolescent's growing body (even though you never told him anything about liquor he assumes if you're smoking, you're drinking he might start talking about acid).

Youre just sitting there face stoic face with all the other house memories but in the inside you're actual dying laughing about how overdramatic he is. How in the world did he connect cigarettes to doing acid? Was acid even a thing in this world?

It gets a little graphic with pictures of bleeding gums, black charred lungs, and a bunch of medical jargon no one really understands but the thing is Riddle doesn't really understand the other student's squeamishness due to being desensitized to it all. He's like yeah? It's bleeding gums what's the issue here? 🤨 This is a serious topic to him.

He also mentions erectile dysfunction in men which causes Ace to make an inappropriate joke and then him trying to calm down laughing rowdy boys for the next 10 minutes scolding them for their childishness.

Everyone is pissed about the mandatory 4-hour long presentation (he also gives them homework packets to prove they were listening) and immediately many boys of the boys go about playing detective to figure out who the culprit of smoking or drinking is, causing them to be subjected to what they deemed mental torture. Of course, no one suspects you. You're Riddle's sweet cherry tart. You smoke? Never. Honestly, you've never been more grateful to be dating Riddle being presumed to be a stickler for the rules just like him.

He also doesn't use his signature spell on you for breaking a rule (though you're pretty sure there isn't an exact rule on smoking in the Queen of Heart's rulebook). Why he would never use such a brutish spell on you. Now if it were one of his male peers? Then most definitely. But for you, he thinks a stern talking to along with his presentation will do just the job to deter you from such things. (Even if nobody else does the packet he makes you do it since the presentation was mostly for you)

He doesn't talk down to you or anything like that when he finds out about your habit, at least not purposefully he just doesn't want the one person in his life he loves so dearly to ruin themselves with smoking of all things. But don't fret he'll help you break this habit by offering all sorts of things to keep your mind off of it and to keep your stress levels down (since it's what you mentioned is your main reason why you smoke).

He keeps your focus on things like studying in his dorm to together so that tests and exams are easier, he suggests you switch over to sweets and other sugary items when you're having a craving for nicotine, and regularly walks with through the maze as a form quality time whilst asking (interrogating) you with many questions to see if you've relapsed.

[twst-quotes]

Ace, Deuce, Grim and Jack: *screaming*

Yuu, running into the room: Jack, what's wrong?

Grimm: how come you're only asking Jack? We're all screaming

Yuu: because Jack wouldn't scream unless it was an emergency, you guys scream whenever you can.

[dibbledoodle]

BAKING THERAPY 🍰✨

I can’t stop laughing bros 😭

[ancientevilbaby27]

??????!!!!!!!