Ace wouldn’t have noticed you if it weren’t for the sound of your sniffles in the desolated hour, but he’s glad he had not brushed it off.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.” A pair of hands cupped your cheeks, so gentle and fondly that it took everything in you to stop yourself from another round of tears. His voice was different from usual you noticed; it was soft and careful, as if he’s threading on glass. You took a deep breath as you finally met his eyes, glittering amber that focused only on you. It was obvious how terrible your current state was—with tears and snots all over your face—yet he didn’t show any hint of disgust, nor had he teased you with his sharp tongue that’d long turned blunt when he saw you crying in the hidden corner of the botanical garden.
“What’s…wrong?” he cautiously asked, brows furrowing in concern. Scenarios had flashed through his mind—even the worst possibilities—but he held his tongue from bombarding questions that'd overwhelm you even more. He sighed, using the cuff of his shirt to wipe your cheeks instead. “Nevermind that. Here, wipe your face for now. Or do you want me to grab tissues for you?”
A quick shake of your head was all you could do, though he’s quick on the uptake as he nodded in understanding. Crouching further in, he finally sat next to you with his head resting against your arm.
“Then I’ll stay here with you. Just take your time, alright?”
A shaky nod. He took your hands in his and gave it a squeeze.
Ace stayed uncharacteristically still as you tried to even your breaths, the gentle pressure of his fingers against your palm kept you grounded. It's a pleasant surprise that his silence calms you down, yet you gratefully accept his comforting presence with you.
No more words were needed to be exchanged for you to know his intention to stay by your side until you're better.
Summary: I think Ace Trappola is a ruby type of person.
If one were to compare Ace to a gemstone, the answer might’ve varied, though most would’ve gone for the easiest answer: Ruby.
“It’s the hair,” You pointed out, “and eyes. I should’ve mentioned that first.”
“Obviously.” Ace huffed, flapping his shirt back and forth in an attempt to cool himself down. Both of you sat next to each other, spending the leftover time you had left before the hustle and bustle strikes again. Trey surely wouldn’t mind the detour they took on their way back from getting ingredients, he just had to make sure the fact that they had taken the detour never came to light.
The occasional gust of wind became their saviour in this hot weather. Though the ice cream from the shop lessened the unbearable heat, it was only when you found the perfect shade of tree, clear of obstacles that the heat magically worsened.
It didn’t take much convincing for both of you to take a short break from carrying the heavy bags of flour and eggs.
“But also because you’re affiliated to Heartslabyul, the embodiment of red as their trademark,” you continued, “and probably because they lack choices they could muster up in their brain too, I guess.”
Ace nodded in cue. It’s a solid argument, knowing most people, including him, were not well-versed in the art of gemology. You leaned further to rest your back on the bark of the tree, stretching your arms outward.
“Personally, I would’ve chosen garnet instead.”
“Any reason why you’d pick that?”
“That’s the only other gem I know that is red.” You grinned mischievously. “But at least my answer is different from the rest, right?” To that, He let out a laugh. You had your ways to turn things unexpectedly again.
“Ruby…” you place a hand on your chin, seemingly deep in thought. “I can see why it suits you. And your personality. You reek red.”
Ace raised an eyebrow at your accusation, unsure whether or not to feel offended by it. “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily.” Ah, he knew that look on your face—one you make whenever you’re engrossed in something. “You have this fiery passion within you, and you’re stubborn to a fault—which is not a bad thing to me by the way. It just means you’ll never give up on the goals you held onto.”
“And that’s…red to you.” He deadpanned.
“Isn’t it?! Does it not seem that way to you?” You waved your arms exasperatedly as if it could prove your point further. “But too much red—or ruby in your case—is never a good thing. Like your reckless attitude for example.
You, my friend, need a sapphire in your life.” You said with much conviction. “Only then can you balance the ruby in you.”
“How did a sapphire even appear…”
“It matches don’t you think? Ruby and sapphire.”
It makes no sense, it truly doesn’t, he thought to himself over and over to make heads and tails over this bizarre conversation. From the outrageous statement you’ve made that he somehow understood, to the underlying hint of what it meant. Ace unconsciously repeats after you, the syllables rolling off his tongue easily. Maybe you had a point.
“...And who’s the sapphire in my life though?” He managed to stop himself from saying ‘my’ that almost slipped from him. “Are you saying you will be the sapphire?”
(He blames the summer heat that’d loosened his lips, clouding his judgement over his course of action. For what, by Great Sevens, did he think such? He shouldn’t have asked this question in the first place, though he couldn’t be bothered to correct himself anymore.)
The heat and the loud noise of the cricket drilling on his ears. The humid air and sweat that trickled down his face. The passing cloud and ice cream tube dangling by his teeth. You finally had the guts to look flustered, he noticed. A silence, followed by a nervous laughter as you looked at him shyly. The redness of your cheeks did not calm his nerves at all.
Ace lets out a long sigh. That of defeat.
“It’s really hot today, huh?”
You hummed in agreement.
(He thought again later that you might be babbling nonsense to look philosophical, and he almost scoffed in fondness at the idea that you out of all people would try to impress yourself to him. It’s adorable, really.)
Between your bodies pressed close to each other, the clacking of footsteps echoing on the dance floor, and the shift of light that casted shadows on the seemingly endless window sills, Sebek had once again thrown you off.
“So you do know how to dance!” Another gasp of surprise left your mouth at the sharp turn he took. Your eyes twinkled in amaze that he couldn't help but feel his chest surged with pride.
“Of course!” He huffed, though his voice failed to hide his excitement. “It's one of the things you need to excel in as someone who'll serve for Malleus-sama, especially during formal parties hosted by the kingdom so as to not bring shame to his name."
You couldn’t help but laugh at the answer, unsure if it’s due to the exhilaration from the fast-paced steps, or from the giddiness of seeing the lit in his eyes that seemed to enjoy this as much as you do. It’s certainly like him to put in that much effort for the sake of his master, but that is still another part of him you’d come to adore; the passion and dedication to be of worthy. The room seemed to spiral just for the two of you, and your eyes focused on the man in front of you, whose hands shared a warmth you couldn’t find elsewhere.
“You're amazing, you know that?” Another laugh. Then came a soft whisper. “This is why I love you to bits.”
It was as if a spell was broken and time continued. And seconds after the majestic turn and a slip on the footwork, it was now the floor that greeted your hands. Though greater concern lies on the face that was inches away from yours, namely your dance partner, who was quick enough to take the fall instead.
The expression he held was fascinating, to say the least.
Trey Clover, despite his kindness, had always found himself unable to admit that he’s nice.
Because it’s true, to a certain extent, that he’s not a nice person. Not once did he care whether the strawberry tart Riddle ate was filled with ‘love’, but instead whether it’s palatable to his tongue to placate his fury. And he turned a blind eye to many pleas for help, blinding himself with a fabricated reality where everything was in place. The gracious help he gave was only to avoid more problems that would come around to him in the future.
Trey Clover truly thought that he’s not a nice person.
Yet he finds it odd that he couldn’t say those words when you’re around.
“You’ve helped me again, you’re too kind.” You muttered, crouching down with a basket on one hand, the other reaching out for the ripened fruit. The leaves of the plant brushed against your hands before you plucked the stem off.
“This much is nothing.” Trey smiled, placing the basket he held on the floor. The botanical garden wasn’t crowded during this hour, and it was a coincidental luck to encounter you, who hadn’t known your ways to navigate through the arrays of herbs across the plantation. All he gave was a simple offer to direct you to the ingredients you need for your next alchemy class.
“Had you not showed me the way, I’d have been late to Mr. Crewel’s class.” You laughed nervously. “You know how scary he could be to latecomers.”
“Haha… I guess you’re right.” He chuckled, remembering the scoldings he’d given to his classmates that weren't fortunate enough to come a few minutes late to his class. “But I’m sure there are others who’d help you, even if I’m not around.”
The sound of your harvest rolled against the woven basket you now placed on your lap. You only hummed in response, eyes scanning through the plants as you pondered the best ones to pick. Trey stared at your crouching figure. He could’ve left you on your own by now, he thought to himself, but his feet remained unmoving as his eyes followed your hands that reached out for another pluck.
“Even now you’re still being humble of yourself,” a playful lilt laced your voice, “you really are a nice person.”
“You’re overpraising me.” He said, though his heart soared from your remark. “I’m not that nice or—”
“Or kind?”
“Y-yes, that.” Trey cleared his throat. Those words rolled off his tongue as if it’s his second nature to deny the gratitude sent towards him, so it caught him off guard to be interrupted. Your laughter could be heard, clearly amused by his reactions.
“You’ve said that countless times, I could memorise it in my head by now!”
“And you’re still throwing your praises at me?” He raised his eyebrows. “Is this your way of buttering up to me? I’ll have you know that it won’t work.”
“Quite the opposite, actually.” you shook your head. “I was hoping you’ll be kinder to yourself this way.”
To be kinder to himself? Trey tilted his head in confusion, now wondering the meaning behind your words. Standing up onto your feet, you dusted off the dirt off your pants before you turned around to take a few steps towards him.
His breath hitched at the contact between your hands as you took ahold of his hands that rested by his side. You guided his hands to curl against the handle of the basket, and when he looked down he noticed the freshly picked strawberries, now in his basket as well. Had you picked it this whole time?
“You approached me first when you could’ve gone along your way. That’s enough for me to think you’re a nice person, Trey.” Your hands still stayed atop his, along with the blinding smile etching wide on your lips; one he couldn’t look away from.
“And you should too.”
Trey Clover truly thought that he’s not a nice person.
Yet he finds it odd that he couldn’t say those words when you’re around, as he begins to doubt his own thoughts.
You weren’t sure of the turn of events that had led to your current state. It started off from a small discovery—your flustered expression and your dismissal over his approaches that had caught his attention, which then developed into a challenge he wouldn’t back down from.
Leona was mostly amused by the whole exchange. It was rare for him to feel this motivated in proving someone wrong and he knew it wasn’t like him to act this way, but the reactions you gave were far more rewarding than he’d expected; he couldn’t get enough of it.
That’s why it’s unsurprising that things had led to the exact situation you’re trapped in. In the hallway, though empty of students risked the possibility of being caught red-handed easily, he’d caged you between him and the wall he’d shoved you over. Leona let out a laugh, tails swinging lazily before it wrapped itself on one of your legs.
“Fine by me, I’ll repeat it until that’s all you can think about.” his arms tightened around you, preventing you from escaping. You could feel his body flushed against yours and his breath close to your ear as he rested his chin on the crook of your neck. His hand stroked the side of your body in an agonizingly slow manner that made you feel light.
“Hey herbivore, did you know?” you could feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke, his drawled out voice audible only to your ears sending shivers down your spine. “Everything you do drives me crazy, did you know that?”
His smirk ghosted against your skin and you froze on your spot. It was a form of mockery—a taunt that tested your limits. You almost let out a shriek when you feel a cold sharp nab on your neck. He knows what he’s doing; he’s doing it on purpose.
“Wait—” You couldn’t finish your sentence as he crashed his lips into yours. Any sound you made was swallowed hungrily by the beast who had you trapped in his intoxicating kiss, leaving you weak in his arms as you feebly clutched onto his clothes. Only by the mercy of the Great Seven were you given the chance to pull away, taking in as much breath as you can. Your bleary eyes close to tears were only able to focus on the sight of his emerald eyes that were staring at you like a lion would at its prey craving for more.
Warning: Content contains suggestive theme, and vampire stuff
A vow he declared within the depths of his heart to keep you pristine from harm.
Never once had Trey drawn a single drop of blood from you, despite your reassurance that he had your full trust. Knowing him, you’re sure he’d treat you with utmost care and respect. Yet he insisted on finding alternative ways to keep his quench, avoiding the possibilities to fall into such situations itself.
“—the last thing I want is to hurt you.” He said softly, with a soft embrace and peck on the cheek. You could only nod as you bury yourself into his scent, drowsiness kicking in fast.
But alas, things must come to an end when his impulse sprung on him way too sudden, and now you lay beneath him—arms pinned up against the soft fabric that he could visualise to be stained red soon. His mouth was wide agape, though it's trembling from moving any closer to your neck that looked utterly delectable right now.
He bit his lips to shut his mouth.
It quickly bared open its fang without his permission.
God, does he wish he could stop his primal instinct sometimes. It didn’t help that you remain unmoving, void of the will to struggle despite being at the close proximity with danger itself. A danger he’d be if you didn’t push him away as every second passing by became unbearable to him.
"Trey." you called out in a low voice that turns his already clouded mind into haywire, as if your presence was not awful enough to break his will. "Drink."
And how could he refuse such a tempting offer? A hesitant pause, then a gulp filled with desire when you'd compliantly offered your body to him, ever-so-slowly inching closer to your neck. Hot breath against your neck that had your skin tingling in anticipation of the incoming pain made you unconsciously hold your breath.
A mutter of heartfelt apology and a promise to make up for it later, before his teeth broke into your skin.
Epel with the word “macaron” and a fem s/o please!
A/N: Although this is a fem s/o as per the request, I generally avoid using gendered terms so it is free to interpretation!
Epel Felmier | Macaron
Summary: Epel Felmier’s hair.
“Cotton candy...no, macaron...”
“What’s up with you and food?" Epel raised his eyebrows, stopping his hand movement as he took a glance at you across his seat. Although you were initially the one who suggested the study session, your works were long forgotten in favour of a thought that’s running through your brain. Your face rested on your arms that were outstretched to his direction, holding back your grin from looking at his confused face.
"I'm just listing the food that reminds me of you." You answered.
“And what is this based on?”
“Your hair colour.” You pointed at his hair, to which he unconsciously pinched between his fingers. “They have a similar colour as your hair, right?”
“You’re not wrong ‘bout that but…” Epel hummed, placing his chin on one hand as he fiddled with his pen on the other. “I’d prefer if you could compare me to something much more…”
“Much more...?” You trailed along.
“Bitter, I guess?” He raised his voice towards the end as if he questioned his own suggestion. His hands now rolled the tip of his pen over his lips as he pondered his statement. “Like dark chocolate for example, that sounds manlier to me.”
“But I think something sweet suits you better!” You exclaimed as you shot up on your seat, your sudden outburst rattling him awake from the drowsy evening. “It doesn’t make you any less manlier and..!”
You stopped. Epel noticed a blush growing on your cheeks but you were quick to hide it behind your arms.
“And I love sweets, so...”
It was fortunate there was no one other than the two of you in the room for he’d surely get scolded from the lack of properness he’s displaying right now. Was his hair enough to cover the coursing heat across his cheeks?
You’ve heard of the term sun-kissed skin. Along with the term comes a warm and bright atmosphere that surrounds the person, full of vigour and vitality.
On the contrary, the moon had instead kissed upon his skin. One could mistake him as a mirage—delicate and intangible to the slightest touch of hand with the way the moonlight was hitting the right places on his face to give him the most ethereal look you’ve ever seen yet. Your brave and gentle hands stroked his head gently as you marvelled the beauty that laid on your lap. His eyelash fluttered a few times, revealing the pair of eyes that held an infinite array of hues as he stared back at you.
Silver raised his hand to cup your cheeks, seemingly in a daze.
“Have you finally woken up from your deep slumber, my prince?”
“You made it sound like the old fairy tales.” He mumbled, his voice barely catching up with him from the grogginess of rousing awake. “How long was I out?”
“Not too long.” you combed your hand through his silvery locks of hair; it was as silky as you imagined it to be. “You could’ve stayed asleep anyways, it’s already late.”
And true to your words, a glance at the clock that adorned the wall indicates it’s the time where people would’ve tucked themselves to rest within their abode. Silver stared back at you, whose face laid atop his. Your lap provides the proximity and warmth that tempts him to leap back to his dreamland, yet he forces his eyes to look at the smile across your face.
“I was hoping we could talk a bit longer…” he trailed off, feeling a yawn about to leave his mouth.
“We have all the time tomorrow.” you giggled, moving away from him, before you repositioned yourself to lay by his side on the bed. “For now, let’s sleep.”
