── out on a dinner date with your beloved, how would they react seeing you slide over a 50$ bill.
✉︎𓏲ּ𝄢 featuring; leona x reader, vil x reader, azul x reader, idia x reader, malleus x reader, and kalim x reader.
␥ imagine / small reactions . sfw , fluff , established relationship , hehehe rich men , princess treatment. possibly ooc, not-beta read.
𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 ✉︎
LAZILY FLIPS THE BILLS BETWEEN HIS FINGERS, leona sits across from you silent counting the cash.
when you reach into your wallet unknown to him, pull out a fifty and slide it toward him on the table...he freezes.
he eyes the bill, then you. the look in his eyes screams annoyance, his ear flicks as he asks, "what are you doing?"
he sounds unimpressed, and he listens when you say sweetly how you wanted to help bay the bill.
he chuckles, low and amused.
"who do you take me for?" he asks, taking two hundreds from the stash in his wallet and cups them over your hands with the fifty and slides it back to you.
you blink, mouth gaped open slightly but before you could ask, he cuts you off.
"buy yourself some pretty~"
𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐓 ✉︎
HE LOST COUNT WHEN SEEING YOU SLIDE THE FIFTY TOWARDS HIM. vil pauses, completely composed but there is a glint of confusion on his face.
he looks up at you and blinks once, eyes sharp and posture straight.
"my dear, what are you doing?"
you explain, in the sweetest tone, how you wanted to help him pay the bill.
he doesn't even let you finish, already sliding the bill back at you──shaking his head sternly.
"oh, nono please, put that away."
you forcefully pull the cash back towards you, blinking up at him as he finishes collecting the cash and placing it on the bill given.
"generosity is admirable, but let me treat my beloved whenever i please~ you deserve to be spoiled, and i intend on fulfilling it."
𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎 ✉︎
HE DOESN'T EVEN LOOK UP AT YOU, azul just flicks the bill back toward you and you slide it back.
a smile forces its way to your lips when he finally grabs the bill and twiddles it between his index and middle finger.
"my pearl, are you trying to make me laugh?"
his eyes are narrowed, posture confident and a sly smirk on his face. you say you wanted to help pay the bill, and he chuckles.
his polite laughs just sounds like money is raining before him, and he slides the bill back in your direction on the table and pays for the dinner from his card.
he'll take your hand and kiss your skin gently, eyes glaring behind his glasses as he smiles fondly.
"what a lovely gesture, my dear, but you need not worry about money as long as im with you~"
𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃 ✉︎
HE'S ALREADY HUNCHED OVER AT THE TABLE, hair styled to show his face, suit ironed and fitted, poking at his food unable to make eye contact with anyone other then you─he even had a hard time ordering his plate.
he's already awkward as is, so when idia sees you slide over a fifty he immediately flinched.
what are you doing? why are you handing him a fifty? do you think he's broke?
he blinks once and immediately drops his fork with a clank. "wh―what are you doing ?..." you explained softly, smiling so much he can feel it in his soul.
idia shook his head, immediately wiping out his wallet and fumbles for his cash while panic explaining, "but―but i asked you out, you can't pay ! this isn't how it was supposed to go, put that away and just let me pay... please?"
at the end of it, he ends up paying and secretly sliding a few extra hundreds in your purse when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom―never will he let his woman pay for a meal.
𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀 ✉︎
WHEN YOU SLIDE THE FIFTY ACROSS THE TABLE CLOTH, malleus doesn't even bat an eye. he simply watches you retract your hand and smiling sweetly up at him.
"...what gesture is this?" he asks, curious as a child, tilting his head while he already planned to pay ahead.
you say you wanted to help with the bill, and malleus smiled. he's not offended, but more amused.
"your offering?"
little do you know, malleus already has the cash ready to hand over to the waiter.
as you nod your head, malleus already took the bills from his wallet and placed it into the billfold, taking another hundred and hands it to you back with the fifty.
"don't make me laugh, my love. it's said the man pays for the woman, yes? as future king and queen of briar valley, please, take the money, you deserve all the wealth in the world~"
𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌 ✉︎
HE'S EXPECTING TO PAY FOR THE BILL, kalim doesn't register the fact you slide a fifty forward until he finally looks down.
he was mid-ramble, saying how good the food was―jamil having to be convinced multiple times─when he cuts himself off at the sight of your money.
he blinks, eventually understanding your intentions.
kalim gasps slightly, shakes his head and immediately pushes the cash back to you. "oh, no baby, you don't have to do that! it's my treat, don't worry!"
no matter how hard you try and say otherwise, kalim ends up paying for your meal and even sends you an extra two hundred for shopping<3
"let me treat you, okay? you deserve all the riches in the world ! besides, my mother wants you to shop at this store, she says you'll look beautiful in their clothes!"
end notes ― "but-but-but kalim won't eat anything unless cooked by jamil─" okay, if it makes ya feel better jamil was one of the cooks I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE YOU HAPPY.
Masquerade! hide your face so the world'll never found you
SUMMARY: You're always supposed to travel with the delegation, whether you want to or not. This time, you did want to attend the festival—but Crowley decided your name wasn't on the official list.
Naturally, you ignored him. With Grim at your side and a plan held together by stubbornness alone, you slipped into Fleur City and its dazzling masquerade—the most colorful, musical night the city had to offer.
The only problem? You hadn’t planned on running into the seven dorm leaders of NRC…or on being personally escorted by them straight to the gates of Noble Bell College.
CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Kalim Al-Asim / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia x F!Yuu (reader) ft. Crowley and Rollo Flamme
TAGS: crack, humor, drama, flirting without knowing.
WORD COUNT: 23k
COMMENTS: this is hella long, so buckle up!! I took some narrative liberties, maybe not entirely event canon but oh well, there's full chaos.
Soundtrack recommendation: God help the outcast - Topsy Turvy - The Bell Tower - Paris Burning - Make a Wish - Masquerade - Bells of Notre Dame
What does one have to do to get a little peace in the middle of a haunted dormitory that’s almost crumbling down to its foundations, with a cat shooting fire left and right?
That was what you were thinking when a letter showed up carried along by a cascade of black feathers. It was as if peace and order didn’t exist in the vocabulary of this magic-filled school.
One moment Ramshackle was quiet, or as quiet as it could get with Grim arguing with one of the ghosts, who had stolen a can of tuna just to mess with him, and the next, a whirl of glossy black feathers burst in through the broken window and spiraled dramatically down onto the first steps of the lounge staircase.
“HEY! We’re under attack!” Grim growled, jumping back when the envelope landed with an unnecessarily theatrical thump on the coffee table. “Protect me, Henchman!”
You sighed, keeping Grim upright as he climbed up your arm until he settled on your shoulder. You picked up the letter and looked it over; burgundy-colored, with a wax seal faintly gleaming in gold.
A letter that screamed official and important no matter how you looked at it.
It definitely wasn’t a bill or some annoying request from the administration. Crowley never handed those out in person, much less with a flock of black feathers; which meant the bird-brained headmaster was nearby.
And with that, the front door swung wide open on its own with a creak.
“Well, well, my most honorable and dependable residents!” he said in a voice far too cheerful and far too polished, stepping into the dorm as if it belonged to him and not like he had dumped it on you in terrible condition. “What fortune to find both of you at home! Truly, the stars themselves align for the diligent!”
Grim shot him a flat look and narrowed his eyes. “When you talk like that it means nothing good”
Crowley brushed off the comment with professional skill. “My dear prefect,” he continued, turning toward you with a wide smile, his cape swishing as if he had practiced the move in the mirror about ten times. “I require your presence in my office immediately. It concerns a matter of prestige, honor, and, naturally, inter-academic relations”
In other words… trouble.
You glanced sideways at Grim; the cat met your look, and you murmured to him when you saw Crowley turn to head out of the lounge without even checking whether you were following or not. “Yeah, nothing good ever comes from him”
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The office gleamed and buzzed more than usual, once again showing off dear Headmaster Crowley’s vanity.
The dorm leaders were gathered around the table, composed, radiating different levels of authority, boredom, or barely-contained chaos. Kalim was practically vibrating with happiness, just like Idia… although he was probably vibrating because he wanted to go back and lock himself inside his room; the fact that he was here, surrounded by people, was already an achievement.
Yes, obviously something was about to go down.
There were expectant looks from the others—except Leona, obviously. He was one step away from turning around and heading off to sleep in his usual spot in the botanical garden. The atmosphere had that specific tense shine that meant the announcement about to drop was going to be, indeed, catastrophic.
You took your place beside Kalim, who bumped your hip in greeting and grinned from ear to ear. You returned the gesture, lightly bumping his hip back, and let Grim settle himself on top of your head.
Crowley cleared his throat, which was always the beginning of one of his boring, overly theatrical, and unbearable monologues.
“My dear dorm leaders,” his eyes gleamed at the sight of the seven young men waiting in front of him. Grim coughed, and Crowley’s expression tightened slightly. “And prefect,” he continued. “Today we have received an extraordinary honor”
With a flourish, he raised seven invitations, seven burgundy letters with shining golden seals.
“Noble Bell College has kindly sent official invitations requesting the presence of representatives from Night Raven College at their upcoming cultural festival”
Your eyes widened. An event outside NRC, allowing you to explore more of this world and see another school; considering they barely let you leave for the nearby town on the Island of Sages, and RSA was still out of the question— that school was still a mystery to you.
So Noble Bell College would be your next magical stop.
Grim looked excited too, gripping your hair tightly and whispering to himself all the things he was already plotting in his small and chaotic head about what he was going to do: eat lots of tasty things, maybe sweets or bread, or tuna made in some way he had never tried before; the possibilities were endless for your little cat.
“And to enhance the experience, the school will treat this event as a masquerade. Isn’t that fascinating?”
Okay, the pinnacle of dramatics—very Twisted Wonderland and very Crowley… you like it.
Crowley was smiling like a man who definitely intended to send teenagers straight into imminent student chaos. He opened one of the invitations and read the contents in his characteristic dramatic voice.
“The event celebrates unity, refinement, and the highest traditions of academia. Naturally, they have requested our… most distinguished students. And of course this dear and most generous headmaster”
And that was where the seven invitations came into play. Seven letters addressed to each of the seven dorm leaders… and to no one else. He didn’t mention the vice leaders’ names, nor your name, nor Grim’s.
Crowley lowered the letter with a satisfied nod. “And with that, the official delegation is concluded”
On your end, silence. A small, polite silence, while the others were already straightening their postures, ready to hear when they would depart and how they should present themselves.
Then Crowley’s head tilted, looking forward, not directly at you, nor at Grim, as if remembering something slightly inconvenient. His eyes were fixed firmly on the office door.
“Ah! But of course… our reliable prefect!” he turned toward you with a bright, performative smile. “As the head of Ramshackle dorm, it would be inappropriate not to include you in this announcement. Transparency is the hallmark of this benevolent administration, after all.”
You heard Leona snort loudly, as if the words “benevolent administration” were completely accurate. If you weren’t harboring a bad feeling right then and there, you would have snorted along with him.
Grim puffed out his chest when he saw that the headmaster was now addressing his beloved henchman. “I knew it! We’re going to—”
“However…” Crowley cut him off, and you felt Grim’s tail deflate against the back of your head. The bird-brain laced his fingers together in front of him. “The invitation, unfortunately, extends specifically to recognized magical students who participate in the official exchange. As you do not possess any measurable magical ability…”
Grim opened his mouth to argue back, ready to launch a fireball that would leave him flat on his back after such humiliation.
“Master Grim, you and the prefect are essentially one student,” he cut him off again. “And given that Ramshackle is, shall we say, administratively… unique…” he made a vague motion with his hand, annoyed at having to find the word that best fit the situation without making it more tense than it already was.
Reading between the lines: you’re not invited, and neither is the cat. It’s not negotiable. Not even by accident.
Crowley gave a sympathetic nod, his eyes showing a very well-acted sadness. “How unfortunate! Truly unfortunate. Perhaps next time”
Next time… like being told there was no more of the cake you liked in the cafeteria and you’d have to wait until tomorrow to eat it. Or like being told you had to try a little harder on the next assignment.
As if you hadn’t literally fought overblots throughout the school year, monsters, ghosts, and whatever the hell lives in the school’s ventilation ducts.
Life isn’t fair, right?
The other leaders didn’t react strongly, but they didn’t give you the reactions you expected either. A couple of shrugs, Kalim looking at you with genuine sadness at not being able to enjoy the evening by your side.
Crowley broke the silence, and the damn spell, with a clap. “Very well then! Preparations begin immediately!”
The meeting dissolved into excited chatter from the headmaster and completely formal, rather critically thought-out discussion from the leaders. Malleus, in particular, looked especially fascinated by the idea of having been invited.
Grim’s tail flicked over your shoulder. “…they’re really not taking us”
The office suddenly felt a little louder… and a little farther away while the two of you watched the others discuss travel plans, formal attire provided by the school, speculation about the festival, music, foreign food.
“Make sure to keep the dorm in order while we’re away, prefect! Such an important responsibility!” Crowley waved a hand at you, signaling you were already dismissed from the meeting.
Grim’s ears flattened against his small head as you headed for the exit.
“…this is bullshit.”
“Yeah,” you huffed. “Yeah, it really is.”
The murmuring followed you out of the office like static.
Crowley was talking louder than usual, Vil was already arguing about the weight of the luggage and the makeup he’d have to do for everyone, yes, even Leona, whom you heard growl when Vil so much as mentioned it. Azul was bringing up the odds of expanding NRC’s prestige to other cities and colleges.
None of it helped.
Grim walked beside you on two legs, stomping down the hallway, his tail bristling, the claws of his hind paws visible and tapping against the stone.
“This is a total scam!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the stone corridor. “We beat ghosts, monsters, more overblots than I can count—”
“—and we still aren’t ‘official’ enough for a school trip,” you finished with the same level of offense.
“EXACTLY!” Grim threw his paws into the air.
You shoved the castle doors open harder than necessary, grumbling under your breath. That damn bird-brain was really getting under your skin; any moment now you’d kick him in the rear so hard you’d send him flying… if it weren’t for the small amount of money the school administration paid you.
The cool afternoon air hit your face, but it didn’t loosen the tight knot in your chest. The voices continued behind you, just as enthusiastic; a glance over your shoulder was enough to make you blow out a breath and start walking down the steps.
“Even Idia’s going,” you muttered.
Maybe bringing up the most antisocial and anxious guy in the school wasn’t the fairest or most honorable move right now, but you were really angry. Not at him, obviously, you were angry at the damn headmaster.
“RIGHT?!” Grim went down the steps jumping two at a time, ears pointed up and seconds away from shouting all the injustices he had suffered thanks to our beloved headmaster. “That guy considers opening his bedroom door a major life event!”
You flinched. “Okay, that was too much, Grim,” you said, your voice a little sharp, staring at the steps because you knew that the moment you took your eyes off the stone it was statistically likely you’d trip, considering the anger leaking out of every pore.
“Hey! You started it” He raised a paw and pointed at you.
“Yeah, well…” you continued, “I didn’t mean it to put him down. Idia comes from a prestigious family and has plenty of money...of course he got an invitation.” You crossed your arms as you reached the last steps. “What’s surprising is that he’s physically going”
Grim kicked a pebble down the steps and jumped the last stretch again.
“He’s physically going and we’re stuck here doing… what. Guarding our dorm from the ghosts we already live with?”
You crossed your arms tighter and rolled your eyes. “I can’t even step off campus without paperwork, supervision, or a miracle,” your voice came out laced with venom, and with every second you were losing what little patience you had left. Spiraling with a grumpy cat wasn’t helping the situation. “But sure, let’s send the entire walking disaster of NRC abroad”
“I should be famous,” he growled. “Hero Grim saves the day again! Where’s my cultural exchange, huh?”
You snorted a laugh despite everything. “Apparently saving the school multiple times doesn’t count as an extracurricular activity”
You crossed the courtyard, the fountain, the last stretch of stone that led toward the castle’s back doors and the path back to Ramshackle. The words kept coming out—half complaints, half that tired bitterness that shows up when something unfair hits a little too close.
When you reached the door, the bridge visible connecting the next stretch of poorly kept land, you stopped. Grim kept walking, now on four paws, and lifted his tail when he realized you had stopped and he was crossing the bridge alone.
You looked at the horizon, spotting the haunted house in the distance and the perfect midday sun over the skyline.
The idea began to take shape slowly, putting down roots little by little, but decisively. The solution to both your frustrations was right there; simple, obvious, both stupid and perfect.
“Why did you stop?” Grim asked, walking back toward you.
You didn’t answer right away. You let the idea keep forming in your mind, running through all the chances of it going right and the ones where it wouldn’t, mapping out everything needed for it to actually work.
Your fingers tapped against your arm. “…it’s a masquerade”
Grim tilted his head. “…yeah?”
Your eyes met his, now wide as he looked at you in a way he hadn’t all year. Your face carried an expression that meant trouble; the kind of trouble that historically ended in explosions, rule violations, accidental heroics, and at least three disciplinary reports from Crewel.
“A masquerade ball,” you repeated slowly, tilting your head toward him, silently urging him to catch on quickly. “Everyone wears masks”
Grim’s ears twitched.
“No one’s supposed to stand out,” you crouched down so you were closer to him. “No one’s supposed to know who’s who”
You let the words settle in his mind, letting the silence guide the realization. One second passed, two, three—until Grim’s eyes flew open wide, pupils dilating and his tail shooting upright as your words finally clicked.
“Oh… you’re kidding”
Your lips curled into a dangerous smile, the kind that promised a thousand reprimands if you got caught, but that would be worth every damn second.
“If no one knows who’s who,” you said quietly, making sure the conversation stayed between the two of you, “then no one knows who wasn’t invited either”
Grim gasped like someone had just handed him the keys to a kingdom made entirely of cans and cans of fresh tuna.
“Prefect… who would’ve thought you could be so devious”
“We definitely shouldn’t do this,” you said, staring at him.
“…but we’re going to do it anyway,” he shot back.
A second of silence passed. Then another. And a third.
“Yeah.”
“HEIST MODE!” Grim threw his paws in the air, jumping with excitement.
You shut the castle door, not a trace of frustration left on your face. No, that had disappeared, replaced by determination. Who would’ve thought your mind could be just as troublesome as Ace’s?
Your steps were decisive, and you didn’t head toward Ramshackle. If you were going to sneak into a cultural event where formality and proper attire were the currency, nothing in that dusty shack would do. No; there weren’t any clothes formal enough or well-made enough there without getting you exposed the moment you set foot, or paw, into the cultural event.
“We need supplies,” you said, veering off the path to the right, following the dirt road.
“Supplies to commit a crime?”
“Supplies to attend formally without prior authorization”
“…crime then,” Grim confirmed, running after you.
The path to Sam’s shop felt like walking deeper and deeper into a very bad idea; and at the same time, a very promising one. The campus stretched around you, wrapped in that late-afternoon haze where the stone towers glowed gold and the buzz of excitement over the news drifted through the cool air.
“Okay, but... I can’t just put on a mask and call it a day. I’m a talking, flame-shooting, very handsome cat”
“Yes, that’s the main problem” Sam’s shack was already in sight—just a few more yards and you’d step into territory both familiar and unknown, ready to show off its haunted wonders.
“My ears! My tail! My flames! My incredible natural charisma, nya!”
“Mostly the flames” you gave him a look.
Grim deflated a little. “…yeah, okay, the flames”
A few more steps and you were already standing in front of the shack. That mystical atmosphere around it always made the hairs on your arms stand on end.
You pushed open the crooked wooden door and a small bell chimed. The air inside the shop wrapped around you like warm smoke, carrying a faint scent of cinnamon, something that made the place feel both comforting and creepy. The shelves were stacked to the top with all kinds of things: enchanted fabrics, suspiciously labeled bottles, and objects that definitely moved when you weren’t looking straight at them. You could swear a pearl necklace you had seen on a shelf near the door was now resting on a display in the main window.
“Well, well,” Sam’s smooth, enchanted voice echoed through the shop from behind the counter. When he had gotten there, you had no idea—five seconds ago the counter had been completely empty. “If it isn’t my favorite prefect… and judging by the look on your face and on your cute and definitely not troublesome cat…” he leaned forward, “…you’re not here for anything legal.”
Grim puffed out his chest, slightly offended by the comment, but he was still the first to speak, or rather, yell.
“We need stealth!”
You’re never going to get that by shouting
Sam’s smile widened, as dangerous as someone could look while being the entrepreneur running one of the most useful and necessary shops on a school campus. “Say no more”
With a snap of his fingers, the counter suddenly looked like the backstage of a theatrical crime, or a theater dressing room, which worked better for carrying out the plan.
Masks, capes, gloves, fabric samples, a monocle that Grim definitely tried on and that you definitely didn’t let him keep; with the way he walked he’d break it any second.
Sam tapped the counter thoughtfully with one finger.
“So,” his voice sounded as soft as velvet, but you knew underneath it hid the layer of a hardened entrepreneur who always kept an enchanted clause up his sleeve, “you need formal masquerade outfits convincing enough… while hiding the presence of a highly combustible feline”
Grim bristled. “HMNYA! I’m not combustible—!”
“How did you know we needed masquerade outfits?” you cut in. Your eyes narrowed at Sam suspiciously.
“My Queen… nothing happens in this school without me hearing about it.” It was a vague answer, but also a very unsettling one. But this wasn’t the moment to stop and argue, so for now you let it slide.
“He’s the real problem. I can blend in with a dress—”
“And masking your scent.” You still weren’t used to the way Sam interrupted conversations to drop information as if you were already supposed to know what it meant.
“Excuse me?”
“If my informants haven’t failed me,” Sam drummed his fingers on the counter and gave you a sly look, “a certain lion and a high fae will be attending the event, meaning they would be the first to spot both of you just by catching your scent.”
Damn it. He was right.
“…okay, point taken” You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact that you’d have to pay for more than just fancy clothes. “With something to mask my scent, a dress, and a mask, I can blend in. But him…” you pointed at Grim without looking at him, “he needs to look… like a normal familiar.”
Sam hummed and gave Grim a full look from head to toe—and if it had been biologically possible, he would’ve circled him with his eyes.
“Not normal,” he corrected at last. “Expected”
“…expected?” you repeated, frowning.
Sam opened a drawer and pulled out a violet velvet cloak with a hood; deep, formal, the kind that screamed ceremonial elegance. Another of the great mysteries of Sam’s shop: who knows why the entrepreneur had a cloak exactly Grim’s size waiting inside a drawer.
“Cultural events in magical academies bring familiars all the time,” Sam commented as he adjusted the hood over Grim’s ears. “Magical creatures, bound spirits, enchanted companions. Half the time nobody even knows what species they are”
The cloak, now arranged over Grim’s small body, wrapped around him completely, barely showing his shape. The fall of the fabric looked heavy and dramatic; the flames of his ears illuminated the inside in a way that felt very theatrical and very on-theme. Then Sam added a carved masquerade mask, elongated, elegant, slightly decorated with claw-like details but still stylized enough to look ceremonial rather than suspicious.
Only Grim’s bright eyes were visible beneath the shadow of the hood and mask. Sam stepped back, admiring his work.
“With the hood down, the mask set properly forward, and strict instructions not to shout…”
Grim shifted his posture. Now almost none of his face showed and his tail was hidden neatly beneath the cloak. Suddenly he looked less like “chaotic campus threat” and more like “arcane familiar belonging to someone extremely important.”
“…wow,” Grim whispered when he saw his cloaked figure reflected in the glass of the counter.
“Pretty convincing,” you added.
Sam’s smile widened as he leaned over the counter, both hands holding up his head. “Exactly”
“I look expensive” Grim spun in a small circle to admire himself, the heavy cloak barely making a dramatic swirl and giving no hint that he might be exposed when he moved.
“You are expensive,” you shot back. “You eat like you’ve got a black hole in your stomach”
Grim decided to ignore you and kept spinning around admiring himself. Sam, meanwhile, straightened and clapped his hands once, making your attention snap back to him.
“Now for you, prefect”
Another snap of his fingers and a dress slid onto the counter—dark, outrageously expensive fabric, black brocade with elegant lace details and a red overlay that made the black stand out even more. Off-shoulder, low-cut, with a skirt that would obviously require a crinoline.
Elegant wasn’t the right word, it was more than that. It was refined, breathing opulence and formality. Semi-transparent sleeves, ruffles and lace layered over more lace.
“A mask that hides, not dazzles” Sam placed a light black fabric mask on the counter, decorated with brocade and gothic embroidery, soft to the touch and perfect for covering half your face. “The best disguise isn’t the loudest one…”
He set the last pieces down on the counter: a choker of black pearls with a rose in the center, the strands long enough that when worn they would drape over the shoulders; a pair of short black lace gloves; and a very gothic-style hat, pompous, with a fall of fabric that resembled a veil.
A very gothic set… perfect for a masquerade.
“…but the one no one remembers”
You lifted the dress carefully with both hands, making sure not to snag the lace on anything, not even the buttons of your uniform.
“…how much is this going to hurt?” you asked cautiously. You knew a dress this extravagant wasn’t cheap.
Sam leaned on the counter again. “Oh, don’t worry” He paused dramatically, clearly fascinated by how your whole body tensed as you worried internally. “This goes on credit”
“Oh… that’s worse,” Grim whispered in horror.
Sam burst out laughing and straightened again, quite satisfied with himself at the sight of the desperate, horrified expressions on both your faces.
“Relax. Consider it… an investment in the chaos the two of you are about to unleash at an international diplomatic event”
You and Grim exchanged a knowing look.
Yeah… that sounded about right.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
Fleur City shone as if it had stepped straight out of a Renaissance painting.
The warm glow of lanterns spilled across the white stone streets, reflecting in long ribbons of gold and amber. Garlands of flowers hung from the balconies, woven so densely that the scent of wildflowers lingered in the air, sweet and heavy. From somewhere along the cobblestone corners came music: violins, laughter, the slow rhythmic pulse of festival trumpets.
Around you there were people, so many people. It was barely possible to walk peacefully through the streets. Carnival decorations and food and trinket stalls made both you and Grim stop every five steps.
And everywhere… masks. White porcelain, golden filigree, feathers, silks, velvet. Cloaks gliding over the stone and polished shoes gleaming in the lanternlight. There were no faces, no questions, no names.
You adjusted the delicate fabric mask slightly as you moved with the crowd, letting the flow of festival guests carry you naturally along the wide avenue leading to the central plaza. In the daylight the dress blended in exactly as Sam had promised: elegant and formal, perfectly matching the spirit of the festival—just another face in the tide.
Beside you, a small hooded figure walked with a rather exaggerated air of importance, little paws tapping lightly against the stone as he took one step, then another. Grim walked as if he were leading his own theatrical march toward the main stage.
“This is the best thing we’ve ever done in our lives” Even though his steps were determined, and fairly amusing to watch from your taller perspective, Grim’s words came out in a whisper; for once he had understood he needed to keep his voice down.
“You also said that when you stole extra pudding from the cafeteria” You gathered your skirt with one hand, adjusting it so you wouldn’t end up face-first on the ground. The dress was beautiful, yes, but the crinoline made walking a bit difficult.
“THAT WAS HISTORIC TOO!” Apparently his lesson in stealth hadn’t lasted long. You hid a smile behind the back of your hand.
Grim looked around at the glowing towers, the decorated bridges, the endless swirl of masked students and nobles. Your gaze drifted to the pink and violet decorations hanging between the rustic, colorful houses. One more step and you nearly collided with the long leg of someone obviously walking on stilts. You managed to turn in time and grabbed Grim so he wouldn’t get crushed under the wooden stilts.
“Woow” Grim settled into your arms and lifted his head to watch the person gracefully walking toward the end of the avenue. “This place is insane”
He wasn’t wrong.
Farther ahead there were people dressed in multicolored outfits—diamonds and pompoms, ribbons and exaggerated patterns showing off immense amounts of fabric in sleeves and trousers. Orange and red jesters, violet and burgundy ones too, with painted faces and five-pointed hats tipped with bells. The lantern lights flickered along the walls of the houses and the stone structures, turning the shop windows into vivid, deep colors. In the main plaza, dancers spun—skirts and cloaks flashing in carefully choreographed circles.
Everything around you looked mundanely normal, peaceful within the limits of what a carnival could call “peaceful.” No fire, no chaos, no problems to solve.
“With this many people, it’ll be impossible for them to find us,” Grim said as he jumped back down to the ground to keep walking.
“If you say it out loud, you’ll jinx it”
“Right. Silence. Stealth mode”
You moved deeper into the plaza, letting the enormous scale of the festival unfold around you. Masked performers breathed streams of colored fire, puppeteers staged small dramatic and amusing shows for the children, and the food stalls now had floating lanterns illuminating them in orange and ochre tones, making the shine of the food look even more appetizing.
Grim sniffed as he stopped in front of one of the stalls.
“…is that roasted meat?”
You sighed and grabbed him by the sides, lifting him until he was level with the food on the stall.
“One stall. And eat quietly”
“BEST HENCHMAN IN HISTORY!”
He jumped toward the vendor, still trying to look dignified in the ceremonial cloak—and failing completely the moment food entered the equation.
You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the slow, dangerous smile spreading across your face as you watched him try to cram two roasted meat skewers into his mouth in one bite.
For the first time since the invitation announcement, the pressure in your chest eased. You hadn’t been left behind. You hadn’t been left out. This might not be entirely legal—and if you got caught the punishment would probably be worse than anything Ace and Deuce had ever gotten—but seeing Grim enjoy himself was worth every second you spent outside Ramshackle.
You’d do it again a thousand times. To hell with Crowley and his official invitations. You had the right to enjoy an event without worrying about running errands for the headmaster.
“Target located” Grim sniffed the air again after finishing the meat. “Honey buns with a light sugar glaze, ten steps ahead”
What a remarkable nose
“Grim, slow down,” you said, walking after him at a reasonably quick pace.
“You’re the slow one” Unfortunately, he had a point about the damn crinoline. You were starting to hate it a little more with every step.
You lifted the skirt with both hands, mentally calculating how much more you could afford to spend at the festival. Considering how much this cat ate, and how little you had managed to eat thanks to the nerves from traveling through the mirror, you’d have to find some way to stop Grim from devouring everything in sight.
“I said one stall!” You barely raised your voice, but Grim ignored you, as always when he didn’t want to hear that you were right.
As you followed him, out of the corner of your eye you spotted a pair of figures you absolutely did not want to spot heading your way.
On the other side of the plaza, near the staircase leading to the main road toward the cathedral, a very specific formation of figures held a perfect alignment: Crowley at the front, with seven leaders behind him, each displaying different levels of diplomacy, excitement, or boredom.
Riddle walked with a rigid posture even in this festive setting, though he wasn’t oblivious to the fun happening around him. Leona was slouched, visibly bored at being dragged into an official event. Azul carried himself with a calculating air, probably already visualizing his next clients. Kalim was the most energetic of them all, practically glowing even while standing still. Vil was sculpted perfection, every step immaculate. Idia was trying to occupy the smallest possible amount of physical and emotional space. And Malleus simply followed the flow of people, hands behind his back, looking around with complete fascination.
Crowley, meanwhile, walked with an annoyingly radiant and pompous stride while speaking with another figure: tall, composed, with a firm and controlled posture. If you had to guess, that person wrapped in an air of ceremonial authority must have been someone important from Noble Bell College.
Your throat let out a tiny squeak and your shoulders curled inward. You were in danger mode.
You stepped sideways, avoiding turning your back on them all, but also not walking backward so obviously that it would make it clear your focus was on those figures who weren’t threatening at first glance—but were extremely inconvenient for your enjoyment. You reached Grim just as he was about to buy a small honey bun and crouched to whisper in his ear.
“Don’t even think about moving”
Grim’s small body went completely rigid. “What’s going on?”
“If you turn two degrees to the left,” you continued, the dorm leaders getting closer and closer, “you’ll be in their direct line of sight”
Grim, completely ignoring your instruction, slowly followed your gaze, barely turning his body to get a good look. Then he inhaled so sharply he nearly vacuumed the honey bun straight into his mouth.
You clamped a hand over his mouth and grabbed his cloak, dragging him behind the stall and hiding behind the side canvas. The vendor shot you both an irritated look but said nothing, another customer was already asking for an entire bag of buns.
“Okay, new plan” You let go of Grim’s mouth but still signaled for silence. Now he had to act like a normal familiar. “We walk calmly in the opposite direction, and you… quiet”
Grim nodded with the intensity of someone trying very hard to be stealthy and stay out of trouble, still holding the sweet in one paw. You adjusted him on your arm and stepped away from the stall.
One step. Then another. And a third.
Someone in the crowd suddenly turned toward your direction. You bumped their shoulder, jolting back in surprise.
“—Sorry!” you blurted automatically, trying to step backward.
Exactly the wrong move.
Because stepping back made you collide with someone else in the crowd. Your shoe stepped on an expensive, heavy cloak, and as you lifted your foot to avoid ruining it further, your heel caught on the uneven stone. You felt your balance tip backward.
For one horrible second, the world tilted; the lantern light, the masks, the people, the realization of oh yes, this is how we die… physically or from embarrassment, falling face-first in front of a crowd.
But the fall never came.
A gloved hand shot forward and caught your wrist just in time, stopping you a few inches before disaster.
“…please be careful,” a smooth, composed voice said. “These festival streets can be treacherous if one isn’t paying attention”
You turned your head toward the voice and saw Azul looking at you with concern...but without the slightest hint of recognition. Your disguise was working perfectly, even in a situation as dangerous as the one you were currently in.
You straightened carefully, pulse hammering, but posture controlled. Out of nervous reflex you adjusted Grim’s hood so his face was completely hidden, forcing his body to hunch so he’d look like an ordinary cat.
“Thank you,” you said in a neutral voice, though anyone paying attention might have noticed the nervous edge and the faint grinding of teeth as you forced yourself not to scream.
Azul released your wrist slowly, waiting for you to fix your dress before stepping back to a polite distance, still close enough while observing you with that sharp, polite curiosity so characteristic of someone whose entire life ran on information.
Behind him, the others had already turned, abandoning whatever conversation they had been having. Six new pairs of eyes locked onto you—the young lady unlucky enough to collide with the octopus entrepreneur.
Grim made a small strangled noise inside his hood, and you felt a tiny vibration against your arm. It was obvious he wanted to bolt as fast as his four paws could carry him, and if you were honest with yourself… you wanted to do the same.
You didn’t look at anyone in particular; certainly not at Crowley, nor at the tall, composed figure representing Noble Bell College in this diplomatic procession. You made the smallest formal bow of your head, the kind appropriate for slipping by unnoticed even after such a collision. You even tilted your hat slightly lower to cover more of your face.
“Apologies for the collision. The crowd is… lively tonight”
Vil’s gaze traveled over you from head to toe. Knowing him, he was evaluating the outfit the way an art critic would analyze a gallery piece; or in this case, the way Vil always did, searching for wrinkles, imperfections, or cracks.
That crack was about to split wide open if he didn’t stop looking at you so intently.
“Finally someone who knows how to dress appropriately,” he murmured loud enough that everyone else heard.
“Hey! We’re all dressed for the occasion,” Kalim huffed, though he didn’t sound offended.
“Yes, because we were dressed” Vil replied.
If that was the case, then point to Vil.
“Watch where you’re stepping next time” Leona exhaled through his nose.
“That is no way to address a young lady!” Vil snapped back, shooting him the most venomous look imaginable without losing an ounce of grace or letting a single wrinkle touch his face.
Leona simply crossed his arms and held Vil’s stare. The tension between rivals was thick enough to feel.
Azul took the opportunity to cut through that tension and prevent an international incident. He inclined his head toward you again, adjusting his glove.
“Well then,” he said, extending his hand toward you, palm open and facing up, “please be careful, miss—”
Your entire body went rigid in a single heartbeat. On your arm, Grim was seconds away from combusting from the stress this situation was causing him.
You returned the slight bow of your head, just formal enough not to raise suspicion despite your heart pounding at a thousand beats per minute.
“Isn’t the whole point of tonight that we don’t ask those kinds of questions?”
There was a pause long enough for you to offer a sideways smile, hoping you hadn’t sounded rude.
Vil’s lips curled upward slightly, approving, almost amused, mentally acknowledging that at least someone knew the rules of the evening.
Azul’s smile changed immediately, shifting from his usual interrogation-ready expression to one suited for social performance.
“Ah,” he murmured. “Quite right. My mistake. A masquerade loses its charm when identities come to light”
Okay. The plan was working beautifully—far better than you had expected. You made a mental note to thank Sam for that potion masking your essence, since neither Leona nor Malleus seemed suspicious of anything.
“If it helps,” you said, testing the waters a little more to confirm your theory, “I’ve never seen figures quite so… unique” Your gaze drifted across each of them. “So your identities would remain a mystery—with or without masks”
Riddle gave a small nod at your comment. “Indeed. The evening discourages such personal revelations unless they are formally necessary”
Thank the Seven that Riddle bought it. And luckily for you, it seemed Idia had too, he was muttering in the background nonstop.
“Thank the gods… minimal social interaction with anonymity settings enabled…”
You let out a quiet breath through your nose, trying to keep it as subtle as possible despite the pressure tightening in your chest during such a surreal interaction. You bowed your head again, ready to give your farewell and move along, taking your first steps toward the plaza.
That should have been the end of it.
“Although…”
Damn it, Azul.
His voice rose again, smooth and composed, turning just enough to place himself at your side as you began to walk.
“It would be negligence on my part not to ensure the safety of the young lady I nearly caused to fall”
Vil moved at the same time, with a grace so natural it was almost insulting; suddenly you had two impeccably dressed elites flanking you like the most elegant bodyguards in the world.
“Cobblestone streets tend to be uneven—especially in heels,” Vil commented, evaluating your posture. Of course he would notice that beneath all those meters of expensive fabric you were wearing heels. Not very high, but high enough to alter your height. “And the crowd is quite enthusiastic, as you mentioned earlier. You shouldn’t be wandering alone”
Azul nodded slightly, adjusting his glasses. “Particularly when a certain tendency toward accidents has already been demonstrated”
The arm holding Grim tightened slightly, drawing a faint squeak from him that only you heard. You looked from side to side, first at Azul, then at Vil, and your gaze dropped straight to the cobblestones.
Oh no. This is very bad.
Behind you, Leona’s voice sounded rough.
“Hey. Don’t crowd her”
All three of you turned to look at him. Leona was dragging a hand down his face, visibly irritated by the situation.
Vil arched a brow, stopping with runway elegance.
“I beg you pardon?”
Azul did the same, forcing you to stop as well and remain right between them. The height difference, privately, was a little funny, if you hadn’t been the center of attention for a very irritated lion.
“Courtesy…” Leona scoffed. “That’s what they call it now?”
You heard Kalim whisper, “Are they flirting?”
And Riddle respond, sounding slightly tired of his classmates, “Knowing them… yes. They are flirting”
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
Leona shoved both hands into his pockets, leaning back slightly as he approached, glancing sideways at your two escorts.
“The girl almost fell. You caught her. End of story. You don’t need to start an escort mission for every stranger you run into”
Vil crossed his arms and offered him a sharp smile. “And since when do you care about social manners?”
“Since watching you two circle her like peacocks in heat started giving me a headache,” Leona shot back.
You let out a quiet snort, covering your mouth with your free hand. Grim seemed to snort too, barely holding back laughter, the vibration against your chest made it obvious.
Azul released a soft sigh and pressed his fingers to his temple. “Honestly, is it necessary to reduce every refined interaction to such vulgar interpretations?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation, flashing them a half-smile, fangs included. “It’s funny and irritating at the same time watching you act so confident about something that isn’t one of your contracts”
The situation would have been comedic if you weren’t still stuck in the middle of it—and if you weren’t one wrong sentence away from catastrophic exposure.
Unfortunately, you locked eyes with Malleus.
He looked taller than the last time you’d seen him. A glance down confirmed it—he was wearing heeled shoes. This fae added a few extra inches whenever he felt like it, and in the process made you look even smaller.
From his height, Malleus observed you in silence. One arm rested over the other, a finger beneath his chin, studying you. As if he were chasing an echo, something about your voice, your posture, the way you held your shoulders like someone used to dealing with chaos every day.
Your heart thumped harder in your chest.
You looked away and gave another small nod, taking a step back, hoping this time you could finally continue your evening.
“I appreciate the concern, gentlemen,” you said, keeping your voice calm and neutral even though internally you were screaming. “But I assure you I would hate to delay such distinguished guests during their evening”
Both Azul and Vil inclined their heads, accepting the farewell with grace. Leona simply clicked his tongue and turned back toward the others—he had been ready to leave five minutes ago.
With elegance you weren’t even sure where you pulled from, you stepped toward the crowd, letting the skirt spin slightly as the crinoline gave the movement the air of something taken straight from a royal etiquette manual.
“Ah…”
Just that single word was enough to cut off your second escape attempt and push your frustration even higher.
The same notable figure Crowley had been speaking with earlier approached the group. The Noble Bell College uniform was immaculate. Perfect posture, perfect alignment, an expression composed, though clearly carefully practiced to appear so.
“Gentlemen,” he said calmly, “if you would be so kind as to proceed. The welcoming is prepared at the academy, and the festival program is… quite structured”
Crowley, who five minutes ago hadn’t been remotely in sight, reacted immediately, suddenly appearing from behind you and making you jump.
“Ah! Of course, of course! We wouldn’t wish to delay such a beautiful evening!”
Then the student’s eyes shifted toward you, finally registering why the seven leaders had stopped or drifted away from their intended path instead of following him.
And in that precise moment, his gaze changed to recognition.
Recognition that didn’t look good.
Not good for you, anyway.
“I must apologize,” he said, stepping toward you and placing a hand over his chest. “It seems I have committed an unforgivable lapse in courtesy”
The student bowed in a formal, precise, respectful greeting.
“I have spoken with these distinguished guests,” he continued, voice calm and controlled, “and yet I have neglected to acknowledge the presence of a lady among us. Such negligence falls below the standards of Noble Bell College… and my own.”
He straightened with the same refinement with which he had bowed and extended his hand toward you. In your stunned state, you noticed Grim become so perfectly still he could have won a gargoyle contest.
“I am Rollo Flamme,” he said. Now you could finally put a name to the face. “President of the Student Council and host of tonight’s ceremony”
Of all the people you could have drawn attention from at this event, it had to be the highest authority in the entire academy. The host himself. The worst possible person.
“And regardless of the anonymity permitted at this celebration,” Rollo continued, “it remains my responsibility to ensure that every guest within our city is treated with dignity and appropriate protection”
With his palm still extended, he took your hand and bowed again slightly, pressing a kiss against your gloved knuckles. His eyes remained locked onto yours, sharp, observant enough to make you swallow hard.
“Welcome to the festival”
Rollo straightened again and folded his hands in front of him.
“You have indicated that you do not wish to delay these gentlemen,” he continued solemnly. “A considerate sentiment”
There was a pause—and it felt heavy, considering this man still hadn’t taken his eyes off you. If you ran now he would notice. Obviously he would notice your nerves and terrible manners, and you’d look incredibly suspicious.
“But allowing a lady to wander the festival without escort amid such a crowd would be an equivalent lapse in decorum”
Vil offered him an approving smile, and judging by the look Leona was giving the blond from behind, your escape plan was now miles away from happening.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Leona muttered.
Rollo turned halfway toward the dorm leaders and Crowley. “I trust one of you would be willing to provide a brief escort to guarantee her safe passage before rejoining us at the academy”
Kalim, being the sweet, trusting, hyper-energetic Kalim, immediately raised his hand.
“Oh! I can—”
“Absolutely not,” whispered Idia in a panic. “You’ll get lost in these weird streets and probably end up buying the entire festival”
Kalim pouted but didn’t argue.
Azul stepped forward, trying to appear smooth but looking a little too eager to close this contract. “As it happens, I’m already somewhat familiar with the young lady—”
Vil moved at the same time and cut him off. “And I, naturally, would never allow someone dressed so exquisitely to be abandoned to the chaos of the central plaza”
Why do I always have to deal with the chaos? Why?
The plan had been simple: jump through the mirror without the academic staff noticing, lose yourself in the cobblestone streets, avoid eight walking disasters of charisma and complications, eat festival food, take a couple of pictures with Grim, and go home.
The universe really hates me
Crowley, watching the scene half-delighted and half-offended that he wasn’t the center of attention, fanned himself dramatically. “Ah, such gallantry among my students! How my heart swells! You seven are the pride of Night Raven College!”
Rollo folded his hands behind his back, perfectly composed.
“There you have it,” he said calmly. “A simple solution”
And with that, Crowley and Rollo continued on their way toward who knows where—leaving you with seven distinguished students and one problematic cat who was internally seconds away from exploding or fainting.
The procession moved forward...there really was no other word for it.
The dorm leaders walked in immaculate formation along the lantern-lit avenues, and in the middle of that flock you were trying with all your strength not to implode from stress. Grim shifted into both your arms, leaning against you; it was safer that way in case he wanted to whisper something instead of accidentally yelling something incriminating. Now he sat like a very tense, very judgmental decorative accessory beneath his velvet hood.
Kalim bounced closer first. “So! You’re from another school?” he asked cheerfully.
Alright. Time for lies—and the greatest skill for stealth missions: improvising without hesitation.
“I’m not part of the official exchange,” you said calmly, which was technically true. “I came with my family”
Which wasn’t entirely true… though if you counted Grim and the seven people around you who apparently didn’t know the definition of personal space, then maybe it was a… creative reinterpretation.
Azul also approached, much closer than necessary. “I see. Attending an event of this scale independently suggests either excellent connections… or excellent planning”
Vil added lightly, adjusting his sleeve where a button had come undone. The small imperfection clearly offended him. “Or excellent taste”
The button snapped back into place and his gaze returned forward, specifically toward you. “No one assembles such an outfit without understanding the magnitude of the evening”
You turned slightly and offered a half-smile. “I had help.”
Extremely true. Sam deserved several medals, and probably hazard pay.
Grim shifted in your arms, trying to lean closer to whisper something, but halfway through his cloak snagged on your sleeve and you had to adjust him quickly before the hood slipped and exposed him.
Of course Azul noticed the movement beneath the cloak. “And that little companion?”
Dangerous question.
“This?” you tightened your grip slightly. “He’s my brother’s familiar. I’m taking care of him while he’s away at Night Raven College”
Malleus finally joined the conversation. One step brought him only inches behind you. “A creature temporarily bound under your supervision”
His voice was so deep you almost felt it rather than heard it. A chill ran down your spine. “That explains such an elaborate cloak. A responsible choice on your part. You understand how to present the creature with the dignity it deserves”
Grim puffed up slightly beneath the fabric.
“He appears loyal,” Malleus added, his voice calm and serene now, still close, but with the strange sense of omniscience that came from his towering height.
At the comment, Grim let out a small emotional squeak and fought very hard not to respond. You rested a hand over his back through the hood. “He is,” you nodded.
Also extremely true… sometimes… when it suited him… especially when food was involved.
“What kind of creature is the familiar?” Kalim asked, leaning closer again, dangerously close to stepping on your skirt.
You grabbed the fabric with one hand while adjusting Grim onto your shoulder. “He’s a cat. A bit grumpy, especially in the mornings.”
No lie there. Grim tried to object, maybe by digging his claws slightly into your shoulder, but before he could you bounced him upward a little. He made a tiny complaint and stayed still.
“So cute!” Kalim said excitedly. “Hey! Does he need something to eat?”
“No! No!” you answered quickly. “He’s fine, he already ate a lot a few minutes ago.”
The last thing you needed was for this ray of sunshine to feed him the way he had with cookies back in Scarabia.
“Your familiar eats human food?” Riddle asked, clearly puzzled.
“…sometimes”
You wobbled slightly as if thinking, though really you were scrambling for the right words to fix the mistake you’d just made. “Not much—mostly fish. But there was a familiar food stall a few blocks from the central plaza, so I bought him a little treat”
You patted him gently to demonstrate how well-behaved he was.
“Aww, what a shame,” Kalim deflated. “I would’ve liked to feed the little guy”
The little guy shifted slightly, probably remembering the same thing: the time Kalim had stuffed him with endless cookies. Grim shrank into your shoulder and whispered barely audibly.
“Prefect… when we’re done, I want another snack”
That sounded so Grim you had to pinch him to keep the humiliation of staying quiet from going to his head.
“Don’t be discouraged,” Azul said, stepping beside Kalim. “We were allowed to enjoy the festival, so we may indulge a little in the culinary arts of this city”
“You’re right!” Kalim brightened instantly. “We can try the éclairs! Or croissants! Baguettes! The honey buns from that stall behind us!”
What a combination of flour and carbohydrates. But it sounded so good...and sooo necessary.
All day Grim hadn’t let you eat in peace except for breakfast, the little gremlin had devoured snack after snack. You, on the other hand…you were actually starving.
Maybe the discomfort showed on your face, or maybe your stomach growled beneath all those layers of fabric. Either way, Vil noticed.
“Perhaps we could offer our escorted young lady something sweet?” His hands folded behind his back as he leaned slightly toward you.
“That seems appropriate, although…” Riddle added thoughtfully, “young lady, would you actually like us to treat you to something?”
In theory, yes. In practice… was it sensible to let them buy you something? You really did want to eat, and you hadn’t brought much money. Well...Grim had already spent more than half of it on everything he’d devoured, plus a small trinket he bought from a craft stall.
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you with such a triviality,” you began calmly. “It would be imprudent—”
“Nonsense!” Kalim cut you off. “We can buy you anything you want!”
Before you could even think of a counterargument, he had already rushed to a nearby stall and paid for five different types of sweets. The others stopped to wait for him, and you took the moment to adjust your skirt and Grim on your shoulder. Standing still, Grim quietly stretched himself across both shoulders like a scarf and settled there, balanced enough for when you started walking again.
“Can I eat some of what he brings?” he whispered.
“No,” you whispered back, barely moving your lips.
When Kalim returned, he carried two paper bags in both hands.
In one bag he had bought eight different flavors of macarons—some common ones like chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla. Others were bizarre flavor combinations you would have preferred to donate to the ghosts of Ramshackle.
In the other bag were two chocolate éclairs, two pains au chocolat, two crescent pastries with a bright glaze, and two honey-cinnamon puff pastries.
A direct trip to diabetes.
The bag with the assorted sweets he handed to Riddle with such enthusiasm that the redhead actually leaned back a little from the force. Riddle blinked once, twice, then opened the bag and tilted his head to inspect the contents. He passed an éclair to Idia, who took it with a trembling hand and immediately retreated to eat it where no one could see him.
With the other bag still in hand, Kalim offered you a strawberry macaron. “Here! Take it! My treat!” he said with the brightest, warmest smile you had ever seen at NRC.
You hesitated for a second, but the sweet was so perfectly made, round and glossy, that refusing it would have felt like a crime. You took it delicately with your fingers and gave it a small bite instead of shoving the whole thing into your mouth out of habit. You might have been hungry, but manners and appearances mattered right now.
“How is it? Is it good?” Kalim was already handing out the other macarons to the rest, even to Leona, who took one between two fingers and inspected it with mild disinterest.
“It’s delicious. Thank you for such a generous gesture” You took another bite and the macaron was gone. You brushed your hands together and were about to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but stopped yourself, licking your lip to catch any crumbs.
Riddle pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offered it to you. “Here”
You took it with slight embarrassment and wiped the corners of your mouth. When you tried to return it, he shook his head. “Don’t worry. You can keep it”
You looked down at the handkerchief, delicate, red with black embroidered details. His initial stitched neatly in one corner. It had the look of something personal, perhaps a gift from his mother or something he had commissioned himself.
“Are you sure?” you asked, uneasy about keeping something so personal.
“I’m sure. It’s a handkerchief, it doesn’t carry emotional weight” He accepted the bag of sweets back from Kalim as the other boy handed him a macaron.
You looked at the handkerchief again and folded it neatly in four. The only problem now was where to put it. A mischievous idea crossed your mind for less than a second: tuck it between your breasts the way people used to do to tease admirers.
But no. You absolutely could not do that...though it would have been hilarious.
Instead, you slipped it into the folds of your skirt, improvising a small pocket. After adjusting the dress and crinoline again, you waited for the group to resume walking. The sun was beginning to dip, the first orange rays of evening spreading across the sky.
This time Leona resumed walking beside you.
His stride was heavy, hands in his pockets, his expression carrying such profound boredom it could qualify as an art form. You had no idea what he had done with the macaron; whether he ate it or casually discarded it somewhere with stealth so refined that no one noticed.
All the while he had been watching you fuss with your skirt, holding it with one hand so it wouldn’t tangle around your feet.
Then, with the faintest sigh, as if remembering he shouldn’t be too obvious about observing others, he stepped a little closer.
“Watch your step,” he murmured low enough that only you could hear. “These streets are uneven”
It sounded suspiciously like Azul’s earlier warning, but filtered through Leona’s flavor of bluntness.
Before you could answer or adjust your pace properly, he extended his arm, wiith no ceremony, as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.
But the gesture itself was pure etiquette.
“If you trip again,” he added in a flat tone without even looking at you, “that bird’s going to make us repeat this whole escort nonsense. I’m not dealing with that again”
In simple terms: take Leona’s arm so this ends faster.
Your eyes drifted to his face, half-hidden behind a mask, his hair tied in a simple ponytail. His lazy aura was still there, but layered beneath it.
Even if he showed little interest in events like this, the fact that he was wearing a mask at all was already significant. To you—the mysterious, nameless young lady—he was simply another stranger. You had no reason to recognize the second prince of Sunset Savanna.
And that gave him the advantage. If he wanted to act with the princely manners he had unfortunately been taught, he would use them, especially if it earned him a few points in front of the others. If everyone else was interacting with you, he wasn’t about to sit out.
To the passing crowd, it simply looked like a stranger offering steady support to a young woman in a crowded foreign city whose shoes were poorly suited for cobblestones.
You gently hooked your hand around his arm. “Thank you”
Leona said nothing, just clicked his tongue and gave the faintest nod.
The streets narrowed as you moved toward the academy district. The lanternlight softened. The crowd thinned just enough that conversation no longer sounded like shouting over the festival and began to feel… almost private.
Which unfortunately meant questions; Polite ones, curious ones, persistent ones.
Kalim, as usual, took it upon himself to begin. “So how did you arrange this visit?” he asked. “You said you didn’t come with the official delegations”
“That’s right,” you replied—truthfully. “My family organized the trip. I’m mostly… exploring while they attend to their obligations.”
Which, technically, was also true.
Azul slipped smoothly into the conversation. “Exploring an unfamiliar city suggests remarkable confidence,” he said, adjusting his glasses and smiling the way he did just before landing a new client. “Or considerable experience”
“A bit of both”
“Have you attended events of this scale before?” Riddle asked next, his tone measured but curious rather than strict. “The protocol at gatherings like this can be… overwhelming”
“Not exactly like this,” you admitted. “But I’ve dealt with large gatherings. And… unpredictable situations”
Behind everyone, you heard Idia mutter quietly: “…that sounds like nightmare difficulty in social interactions…”
Frankly, the poor guy already looked like he was about to log out of the event if they didn’t reach their destination soon.
“Yet you don’t seem intimidated,” Malleus said, speaking over Idia’s murmuring.
“I learned that most disasters start the same way,” you replied, pausing to choose your words carefully. “If nothing is exploding yet and no one is screaming… things are usually going well”
That comment earned you seven pairs of eyes.
Because what you had just said perfectly summarized life at a certain academy where mornings often began with students yelling, magic spiraling out of control despite professors supposedly teaching discipline, and overblots happening far too often.
Leona glanced sideways at you and huffed thoughtfully. Azul simply folded his arms and seemed to consider your answer.
“An interesting philosophy,” he said, tapping his fingers against his arm. “Quite pragmatic… and resilient”
Grim shifted slightly on your shoulders, practically vibrating with the effort not to shout HNYA, we’ve fought literal overblots every month, you have no idea!
You scratched his head lightly over the hood as a warning, and the trembling stopped. Riddle stepped forward slightly and inclined his head toward the gesture, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
“Your brother must trust you greatly if he left his familiar with you”
“He does,” you nodded.
Riddle responded with a thoughtful hum. “Responsibility reflects well on both of you”
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and smiled.
If he knew how responsible you really were—sneaking into a festival and academic event without authorization, in a country far from the island, in a world you barely understood—well… that comment would collapse like a badly built card tower.
But as you watched him, you also noticed something else.
The way Riddle politely guided passersby out of your path. Azul adjusting his pace so you wouldn’t have to walk faster. Vil subtly steering the group away from the rougher patches of cobblestone without saying a word. Even Idia hovered closer than usual, like some socially terrified wizard who had nonetheless decided he was the party’s defensive mage in a DnD campaign.
Leona kept his stride steady beside you, perfectly matching your pace. And Malleus remained watchful, hands ready to guide a passerby aside or catch you if you stumbled.
The shift was obvious, they weren’t escorting a random girl anymore...They were engaging with her.
“It’s unusual to meet someone at this sort of event who speaks as directly as you do,” Azul said, almost as if the conversation he wanted was simply… a conversation.
Vil nodded from the front of the group. “Most attendees here are desperately trying to impress,” he said, turning his head toward you. “Whereas you, my lady, manage to impress simply by walking”
“And you’re easy to talk to too! It’s really nice!” Kalim added brightly.
From behind you, Idia muttered: “…low-pressure NPC with unexpectedly high dialogue quality…”
Oh. My. Sevens.
They’re flirting.
They are actually flirting.
And they have absolutely no idea that the person they’re flirting with is you—the extremely human, magicless prefect who attracts catastrophic overblot-level disasters like seasonal colds. All you needed was a mask, an expensive dress, and no identity.
Suddenly the seven of them were treating you like royalty.
Your cheeks flushed faintly pink. Part of you wondered—just for a second—if you could take advantage of this a little longer. It wasn’t every day these well-trained disasters behaved like gentlemen.
Another part of you was on the verge of imploding because the same seven who usually competed in ego wars (Kalim excluded) now seemed oddly invested in your company.
Please do not let this night end with all seven of them having a crush on me.
You would never survive looking them in the eye tomorrow. One or two you could handle.
Seven? That would end in a battlefield.
Ahead of you, the academy gates came into view. Tall. Ornate. Illuminated by elegant lanterns while guests streamed inside.
The perfect place for this illusion to end, before their gazes got any more intense. Your steps slowed slightly, and the others adjusted automatically.
Beyond the gates, upper balconies glowed with light and stained-glass windows scattered multicolored shards across the courtyard.
Vil glanced toward them. “A beautiful aesthetic, exactly what one would expect from the student council president,” he commented, violet eyes bright with approval. “Fleur City always delivers the finest spectacles”
Leona exhaled softly beside you. “Tch. If this thing runs longer than it should, I’m leaving”
Your lips curled faintly upward. That was such a Leona comment.
And then Idia, apparently unusually chatty tonight, talked loud enough for everyone to hear. “…pretty sure this ends with a final boss spawning in the middle of the hall at biblical difficulty…”
You couldn’t stop the laugh.
You tried to make it sound like a small huff—but the laugh slipped out naturally. Bright, familiar, too familiar.
The sound hung in the air like a memory someone had just pulled out of a locked drawer. Leona’s arm stiffened under your hand; Azul’s eyes sharpened; Vil tilted his head; Kalim blinked; Riddle froze; Idia looked like someone who had just connected two impossible dots; And Malleus’s gaze deepened.
Your pulse skyrocketed, you closed your eyes for half a second and pressed your lips together.
Idiot.
You cleared your throat quickly and stepped back. “I'm sorry,” you said lightly, smoothing your tone. “Just… the moment”
You released Leona’s arm. Another step back gave them space as the academy gates loomed only a short distance away.
“I believe this is where our paths separate,” you said with an elegant bow. “You have fulfilled your duty admirably”
Azul recovered first. “Well,” he said, though his eyes were still attentive, “this has been… unexpectedly pleasant.”
Kalim waved energetically. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the festival!”
Leona looked at your hand, then folded his arms again. “Watch where you step.”
Malleus returned your bow with one hand over his chest. “If fate allows it, I would welcome another conversation.”
You straightened. “Then perhaps fate will be kind.”
You picked Grim up in both arms, because you needed something to do with your hands, and turned toward the academy entrance.
One step...then another. Trying to look composed, just another guest entering the celebration.
Internally? You were about three seconds away from completely losing your nerve.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The moment the academy doors swallowed you, you didn’t stop, nor you didn’t slow down; in fact, you sped up.
You didn’t admire the architecture, the vaulted stone corridors, the candlelit banners, the elegant streams of guests drifting toward the grand hall.
You took a side corridor, then another, then passed through an open arch into a quieter cloister, with tall windows and ivy climbing the walls. Only when the distant noise of the courtyard softened into a manageable murmur did you finally exhale.
“…Okay,” Grim whispered from your arms. “…we’re still alive.”
“Barely.” Your lips tightened, the pressure in your chest still fighting to break free.
“That laugh almost killed us.”
“I know, Grim.” You leaned against the cold stone column and adjusted his hood so you could see his face.
“…those idiots seemed to like you, huh?” His eyes bulged slightly, and judging by his posture he was as close to a stress-induced meltdown as you were.
You shut your eyes at the memory. “Don’t remind me… that’s a problem”
“I’m glad to see my earlier concern wasn’t unfounded”
The lantern light flickered softly across the cloister floor. Somewhere deeper inside the academy, the music began again, more structured now, more ceremonial.
Why? Why can’t I have one moment of peace?
Your spine stiffened instantly, you turned.
At the entrance of the cloister stood Rollo with a posture so perfect it could belong to a movie villain. Hands clasped behind his back, expression calm and attentive. The lanternlight traced a warm outline around him… almost like flames.
“I trust the escort provided by Night Raven College proved sufficient,” he said calmly. Grim froze again like a gargoyle—after ducking his head and burrowing into your chest.
You inclined your head politely. “More than sufficient, President Flamme. Your hospitality is… thorough”
“It is my responsibility,” he replied. “A host must ensure that no guest experiences discomfort within our city”
He stepped closer, not intruding, simply shortening the conversational distance with careful etiquette. “I must admit,” he continued, thoughtful rather than stern, “it is rare to encounter attendees whose affiliation is not immediately apparent”
Another step forward. You stayed exactly where you were, clutching Grim like a plush toy.
“May I ask…” he said, choosing his words carefully, as if trying to avoid creating a scene, “whether you come from another academy?”
You didn’t allow yourself to hesitate. “My family travels frequently. I accompany them this season” The answer came out quickly, too quickly to sound completely natural.
Which, technically… wasn’t entirely false.
If one ignored the circumstances of that accompaniment.
“And do you personally practice magic?”
A simple question. Simple—and judging by the atmosphere this man radiated, a dangerous one. You didn’t know why, but the way Rollo always remained composed and asked such direct questions made something in your instincts prickle.
Your gaze dropped briefly to Grim as you scratched his head, forcing a small smile like you were remembering a relative who didn’t actually exist.
“My brother is the gifted one in the family” You looked back at him. “He’s the one formally enrolled at Night Raven College”
Rollo’s eyes sharpened slightly. “I see” His gaze lowered toward Grim’s hood. “And that bundle is a familiar, I assume?”
“Correct,” you replied, adjusting Grim again; your arms were starting to ache. The cat was definitely getting fat. “He belongs to my brother, I care for him while he’s occupied.”
His eyes studied you for a moment, like someone inspecting the symmetry of a cathedral window. If he was looking for something suspicious, he didn’t say it aloud.
But he made you sweat. A cold drop slid down your spine, you were getting tired of this much stress.
“How fortunate,” he said at last, allowing you to breathe again. “To have family capable of assuming such responsibility”
He and Riddle would probably get along, you thought. Both had that particular pride in responsibility and decorum. Which made it odd that Rollo wasn’t currently with the NRC delegation discussing formalities with Riddle.
Why wasn’t he there with them?
“In my experience,” Rollo continued quietly, walking past you to look toward the garden beyond the cloister, “those born without magic often develop… a clearer perspective on consequences”
You frowned slightly, unsure where that comment was going. “Perhaps,” you replied neutrally.
His gaze returned to you. Now he stood directly in front of you, but his posture wasn’t interrogative, although something about the moment felt like the beginning of a tense conversation.
Great. Add another person to the list of people you had to be careful speaking around. As if dealing with every student at NRC wasn’t already exhausting enough.
“At Noble Bell, we place great value on the upbringing of our guests,” he said. His voice remained firm and formal. “Often, that reveals more than titles or affiliations”
A polite way of saying tell me about your background.
And what a background that was.
“What does your family do, if I may ask?”
Your eyes widened slightly. You remembered questions like this from your own world...a little classist, a little creepy, if you were being honest.
Your mind started spinning. Whatever you said now would have consequences—and could unravel your lie instantly.
Rich merchants? Too easy to verify.
Minor nobility? Far too risky.
Foreign lineage? Absolutely not.
You needed something visible, difficult to check, socially plausible… and open to interpretation.
“…performance,” you said finally, tilting your head with a small smile.
Rollo narrowed his eyes slightly, mirroring the tilt of your head. “Performance”
“My family works within musical circles.” You stepped toward the cloister columns, letting your eyes drift toward the small garden to buy yourself a breath of space from his scrutiny. “Ceremonial events, private patronage, festivals like this… occasionally.”
Technically…not entirely false.
If one counted the endless chaos-filled performances NRC dragged you into cleaning up afterward.
“And you?” he asked, moving to stand beside you.
“Me… what?” You had been staring at a flower you thought was an orange lily-of-the-valley and hadn’t processed the question. Your body turned slightly toward him, hip angled casually.
“What do you practice?”
“Ah…” Your expression faltered for half a second in embarrassment. You hadn’t prepared that answer.
“Vocal training.” Your eyes returned to the garden. “Beginner”
If yelling at Grim every morning so he wouldn’t make you late for class counted as vocal training. Or shouting at Ace and Deuce when their clown-level stupidity dragged you into disasters. Enough practice to develop excellent lungs.
“Singing,” you finished.
For one terrible second you thought you had overplayed it. But Rollo didn’t react, he simply nodded.
“A disciplined art,” he said. His brows lifted slightly, careful not to appear judgmental. “Music, when practiced with devotion, reflects order.”
He extended his hands in front of him, left hand outward. “Structure” Right hand outward. “Harmony” His palms opened, fingers long and precise. “The sacred ceremonies of this city rely greatly on vocal precision.” His head turned toward the distant sound of a choir rising from the main hall. “A poorly trained chorus can ruin an entire liturgical sequence”
You followed his gaze toward the archway leading to the side corridor and listened to the choir for a few seconds. “I prefer small audiences.”
“A wise preference,” Rollo nodded, exhaling softly in time with the rising harmony of the chorus. “True refinement rarely requires spectacle”
You leaned slightly to study his face—pure curiosity. His expression softened for a moment under the layered voices of the choir, as if the music were something sacred to him.
The moment lasted only a few seconds. Then he composed himself again, hands folded neatly before him, his attention returning to you. You straightened as well.
“You speak with unusual composure for someone outside the academic delegations,” he said, stepping closer. “Most visitors tonight are eager to attract attention”
You pressed your lips together in a small thoughtful pout, tilting your head toward the music as if weighing the idea. Thinking, and thinking.
“It’s easier to listen first…” You gave him a crooked smile. “Attention can be exhausting sometimes”
Rollo exhaled again—subtle, but visible. “Yes…” His eyes lingered on yours. “…it certainly can be”
Then, like a dramatic punctuation mark in a poorly timed story, a massive bell rang out. The sound cracked through the academy like thunder; deep, heavy and close. The vibration rolled through the stone around you.
“It seems the ceremony is about to begin.”
You turned toward the corridor as the footsteps of guests echoed more strongly through the halls, a tide moving toward the grand hall.
Rollo adjusted his attire, the robe, even the large hat, then extended his hand to you exactly as he had earlier in the plaza, the other hand behind his back.
“It would be improper to allow a guest unfamiliar with the academy to navigate the inner corridors alone during a formal assembly”
Ah… damn
“I will escort you personally.” There was no room for debate. Decision made. End of discussion.
Refusing now would be far more suspicious than accepting.
“You are very thorough, President Flamme,” you said with a bow that nearly reached the floor, holding Grim with one arm and your hat with the other so it wouldn’t slip.
“Thoroughness prevents disorder,” he replied calmly.
He waited patiently for your hand. When you placed it in his, his fingers closed gently around yours. The cold edge of his ring brushed your skin even through the glove. “This way”
The academy corridors unfolded ahead of you. Candles lined the walls in strict rows, the stained glass windows were fading under the last rays of sunset. Immaculate white columns framed the space while the ceremonial atmosphere gathered like a curtain before a stage performance.
“For someone outside the formal delegations,” Rollo commented as you approached the reading hall entrance, “you carry yourself with remarkable composure”
“I’ve learned to adapt quickly,” you said, tilting your head slightly. That, at least, was the most honest thing you had said all day.
“A valuable skill.”
Grim’s small claws pressed into your sleeve, his silent signal that things were going very wrong.
Ahead, the corridor opened. Golden light from enormous chandeliers flooded the hall, marble floors gleamed beneath towering stained-glass pillars, the ceremonial music swelled as hundreds of voices gathered at the center.
Rollo slowed his pace as you approached and gently guided you closer so the entire hall opened before your view.
“The seating is organized by delegation,” he explained, gesturing upward with his free hand. “However, independent guests may observe from the upper galleries”
Translation: He was personally installing you in the best observation point in the building.
Most likely surrounded by staff, highly visible, no escape routes.
Wonderful.
He pointed toward a marble staircase rising along the hall wall. “From there you will have a perfect view”
You lifted your gaze toward the upper gallery, marble and stone just as ornate as the rest of the hall, and quite spacious.
“If you require anything, attendants will be nearby” Then he released your hand.
Standing straight as a ceremonial statue, he bowed once more—legs aligned perfectly like a prince finishing a formal greeting. “I trust the presentation will justify your attendance”
And with that, he left.
Once again, you were alone with Grim.
“…hey… henchman…” a small whisper came from inside the cloak.
“…yeah?” You still hadn’t taken your eyes off Rollo’s retreating figure down the corridor.
“We have VIP seats”
“…yeah”
Grim sighed. You felt his tail go limp across your shoulder. “…this night is going spectacularly”
You released a long breath. “…absolutely.”
Then you turned and started up the stairs.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
The bell never finished its final resonance.
One moment the reading hall was perfectly synchronized with the ceremony, waiting for the famous magical bell artifact to sound… and the next moment fire.
Not the warm glow of decorative candles lining the hall. Not a ceremonial brazier. Not a controlled magical flame meant to add theatrical flair.
These were real flames, hungry ones, full of magic—and disturbingly selective.
They burst upward along the cathedral columns in violent ribbons of orange while the massive bell roared like a living thing. Heat tore through the hall, guests screamed, the polished order of the ceremony collapsed instantly into panic.
“My magic—!”
“It’s not activating!”
“What’s happening?!”
The sound spread in waves, confusion becoming fear, fear becoming absolute chaos.
From the upper gallery, smoke already curling over the carved railing, you clutched Grim tightly to your chest.
“This has officially turned into a disaster!” you inhaled as deeply as you could, staring down at the inferno rising below.
“HNYA!! FOO! FOO!” Grim tried blowing at the approaching flames. “PREFECT, THE FIRE’S GETTING CLOSER!”
“I CAN SEE THAT!”
Guests surged toward exits in disorganized waves, assistants shouted directions nobody followed, sparks rained down as part of the decorative canopy collapsed in a burst of embers.
You backed against the stone wall, keeping distance from the fire. The flames were climbing quickly now, you could feel them licking the hem of your skirt. You yanked the fabric away and moved sideways along the wall toward the corridor exit.
“If this dress burns,” you said with deadly seriousness, even as the smoke made your breathing ragged, “I swear by the Seven, Grim, I will make you work overtime to pay off our debt to Sam”
“THAT’S YOUR PRIORITY RIGHT NOW!?”
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS FABRIC COSTS?!”
A small explosion cracked beside you and you hurried your steps. You pulled off your hat and held it over your nose, shielding both you and Grim from the smoke.
The bell thundered again. But now it wasn’t announcing a ceremony, or the hour, or the arrival of magic into a new era.
It was weaponized.
“…Okay,” you muttered, forcing yourself to stay calm and conserving oxygen as best you could. Your eyes scanned the gallery exits, fallen chandeliers, and the storm of wildflower petals drifting through the hall. “Time to save their asses… again.”
The bell roared, the metallic blast split the air so violently the stained-glass windows trembled, and with that resonance, more petals erupted into the burning air.
At first it looked almost beautiful, orange petals floating down toward the flames, dozens, then hundreds. A storm of glowing flowers falling from the bell tower like drifting embers.
One brushed the sleeve of a fleeing mage, the flower ignited bright red on contact, its petals burned from within. Smoke rose as the student’s spell collapsed instantly, magic ripped out of the air like someone unplugging reality itself.
“My magic—! It’s gone!”
Another flower fell, another flare, another failed spell. Understanding spread faster than the fire.
“They’re draining it—!”
“Don’t let them touch you!”
More petals rained down, brushing cloaks, masks, bare hands, triggering bursts of flame wherever they landed, leaving scorched fabric and a dead silence where magic should have answered.
The grand hall—seconds ago filled with the most skilled magical students from several academies—was now packed with people who couldn’t conjure a single spark.
Grim twisted in your arms. “PREFECT THIS IS BAD—REALLY BAD—”
You saw one flower drifting toward you and flattened yourself against the wall. The corridor behind you was already engulfed in flames, the staircase was starting to burn. You couldn’t stop the petal gliding over the gallery railing straight toward your sleeve.
It touched the fabric…Nothing happened. No flame, no burn, no magic drain. Because there was nothing to drain, the petal simply slid off your sleeve and landed harmlessly on the floor.
You lifted your arm, no damage. You squeezed Grim tighter against your chest and turned toward the stairs.
“It only drains magic!” you shouted over the roar of the fire.
“That means—”
“That means,” you snapped, voice sharp with the absolutely terrible decision you were about to make, “while everyone else is getting drained—”
You took the stairs two at a time, dodging small flames licking across the marble. “—someone without magic is the most useful person in the entire building!”
Grim’s eyes went wide, he realized it instantly. The only one who could move freely through this chaos…was you.
Without thinking twice you leapt the final stretch of stairs, landing inelegantly on the main floor. Before the flames could reach the hem of your dress you yanked the fabric aside and bolted across the hall.
“Hot! Hot! Hot!” Yes, talking while running through a smoke-filled hall was stupid, but it was the only way to vent the stress as you sprinted through the wide arches.
And at the center of the inferno...the seven dorm leaders stood in formation, imposing order on chaos the only way they knew how; loudly, stubbornly.
“Clear evacuation routes!” shouted Riddle. “We need civilians out—now!”
Idia was shouting too, panic turning his brain into a rapid-fire analysis machine. “The flowers are linked to the bell! It’s a distributed power source!”
Kalim and Azul were already dousing nearby flames with water magic. Even Malleus, with his power weakened, had air swirling around him like a contained cyclone, deflecting falling petals.
All seven were staring upward toward the tower. Where the bell still rang, where more flowers kept falling, and where one man stood watching the chaos below with chilling superiority.
Rollo.
“This world has suffered too long under the rule of magic!” he shouted, completely unhinged. His staff swung wildly, sending waves of burning flowers across the hall. “Power brings only arrogance! Destruction! Chaos!”
Another bell strike, more petals, the last scraps of magic began to fail.
“I will end this suffering!” His voice cracked into something almost like a sob. “Even if the flames must purify this city!”
Grim buried his face deeper in the cloak against your shoulder. “…yeah okay… he’s lost it”
The leaders moved before you could blink. All seven redirected the remaining magic they could muster, pushing the falling flowers away in bursts of wind—though the currents also fed the fire.
“Watch the flames!” shouted Vil, already extinguishing a decorative banner that had caught fire.
Leona had launched himself toward a pillar, dodging both the flames and the falling flowers with the kind of speed he only used during Magift. With King’s Roar, he turned every piece of furniture already on fire into sand.
Tiny grains scattered through the air as more flowers fell from the bell tower, only to dissolve the moment they touched the drifting sand.
“NO!” shouted Rollo, staggering slightly. “Magic must disappear! Even if I must burn this city to its foundation, I will finish what I started!”
The flames burst upward again, bathing the entire reading hall in violent orange and red light, smoke was already swallowing the last breathable air.
You ducked as a piece of the structure collapsed, crushing a bench beneath it, splinters of wood scattered everywhere.
“Henchman!” Grim coughed. “This is the part where the villain stops being organized and becomes erratically dangerous!”
“…good call, Grim.” He was right. After dealing with multiple overblots, both of you knew the pattern by heart.
And if there was something else you’d learned after months inside a school full of wildly irresponsible magic users, and a few outright fanatics, it was this: You don’t argue with them.
Especially not a fanatic who’s currently burning down a city.
You placed Grim beneath the archway entrance of the hall, hiding him from the flames under a stretch of marble structure, the doors were already open where civilians had escaped.
Then you ran straight toward the fire, toward the seven idiots fighting inside it. Or maybe you were the idiot for charging into an inferno wearing a highly flammable dress with zero magic.
But hey—adrenaline does wonderful things to a person’s judgment.
“WAIT—!” you heard Grim squeak over the crackling fire.
You didn’t look back, your eyes were locked on the chaos ahead. You didn’t think rationally either—because sometimes the optimal solution…is interrupting a villain’s speech with physical violence.
You ran, and ran and ran. You rushed past Riddle, who only caught a glimpse of a swirl of black and red fabric from the corner of his eye, unable to see clearly through the heat distortions.
But when you planted your foot, twisted your body, and raised your arm—every dorm leader became very aware of your presence in the flames.
Crack.
Your fist slammed directly into Rollo’s face. A solid human punch, powered by frustration and adrenaline. His head snapped sideways, the speech he was about to shout died halfway up his throat.
He staggered back a step, hand flying to his cheek, his eyes went wide, pure disbelief flooding his expression. No one in his perfectly ordered life had ever punched him.
The fire flickered, then slowly began to die down. The hall inhaled again, tThe room seemed to exhale with it.
You lowered your hand slowly, breathing hard, then bent forward as the pain finally hit your knuckles.
“…ow”
The pain shot up your arm, you shook your hand violently, hopping slightly on your feet.
“Shit,” you muttered, clutching your hand for a moment before shaking it again. “That hurts...oh hell that hurts”
You looked at Rollo, voice rough from the smoke. “Could you maybe not burn down a city over your personal issues for five minutes?!”
You bent forward again. “Damn! Your bones are hard!”
Behind you—
“SHE JUST DEFEATED THE FINAL BOSS WITH A HOOK PUNCH!” shouted Idia, unable to contain what he had just witnessed.
“…okay,” you groaned through clenched teeth. “That was one of the worst decisions of my life” Under the glove, your knuckles were already swelling.
“Don’t move” The voice of Vil arrived calm, sharp, perfectly controlled now that the end-of-the-world situation had paused.
He gently took your wrist and carefully removed your glove. The skin around your knuckles was red and throbbing, you could barely move your fingers without a stab of pain running all the way to your shoulder.
“That impact could have fractured something,” he said, lifting your hand and examining it. He turned it carefully in different directions, moving your fingers slightly, visibly irritated. “Honestly. Barbaric… effective, but barbaric”
Azul stepped beside him, his tone smooth but edged with concern. “Allow us to help. We can perform basic healing spells”
Riddle was already clearing space nearby, dragging charred furniture aside. “Give the young lady air!”
Kalim rushed over as well, dodging debris and wilted flowers. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?” he asked, leaning in beside Vil to inspect the damage.
You tried to pull your hand away. “I’m fine—”
Vil didn’t allow it, tightening his hold slightly, though not painfully. “Do not argue while you are injured”
“…okay”
Azul placed his fingers lightly against your knuckles. A faint spell flickered between them, much weaker than his magic normally shone. A soft blue glow wrapped around your hand, cold, like pressing an ice pack against the injury.
The swelling eased slightly, the pain dulling from a sharp stab to a manageable ache.
“This is only temporary relief,” Azul said, withdrawing his hand. Vil released your wrist as well. “You will require proper treatment later”
You flexed your fingers carefully, the muscles moved without too much resistance.
“…thanks” You slowly pulled the glove back on. The soft fabric brushed the injury and you winced faintly.
Leona had been watching the entire time with narrowed eyes, arms crossed. “Do you usually run into burning buildings?”
His tone was flat, not mocking, nor scolding, just… curious. You tilted your head, thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “Seemed like the fastest way to stop him.”
“Speed is not always the most efficient method,” remarked Malleus as he stepped closer, checking if you’d been injured anywhere besides your hand. “Do you require further assistance, miss?”
“I’m fine now, really. Thank you” Malleus inclined his head and didn’t press further.
Instead he stepped back and cast a small spell—simple for him even in his weakened state, but still effective. The air cleared instantly, smoke and ash were swept away. At last, the reading hall could breathe again, even with the aftermath of the fight still hanging in the air.
Without the smoke, the damage was impossible to ignore. Several pieces of furniture had been reduced to ash, none of the decorative fabrics had escaped the flames, some burned down to their first threads, others halfway through their tapestry. Black scorch marks stained the marble floor, several stained-glass windows were cracked. A few more seconds and the glass would have exploded.
“…I…” Behind you, a trembling voice finally broke free from its daze.
Rollo was still standing exactly where the punch had left him, his hand pressed to his cheek, shoulders rising and falling with uneven breaths. His voice was faint—barely more than a whisper. The fury that had filled it minutes ago had collapsed entirely.
“…I only wanted…” His voice cracked. “…to stop everything tied to magic… to remove the world’s pain”
His gaze drifted across the ruined hall, the ashes, the chaos his plan had unleashed. “This… is…”
His knee buckled and he nearly collapsed to the floor if you hadn’t moved quickly and caught his arm. The others stiffened immediately, stepping forward, ready to protect you from the suddenly fragile fanatic. You raised your hand to stop them.
Then you guided him toward the small central step and let him sit. Silence stretched as you allowed him time to breathe normally again.
On the floor beside you lay a violet handkerchief, scattered with ash. You picked it up, shook off as much dirt as possible, and held it out to him. Rollo stared at your hand, then at your eyes, then at the hand again.
His jaw tightened as he swallowed before finally taking the cloth and pressing it against his cheek, which was already darkening into a bruise.
His shoulders slumped. “…I have failed,” he whispered. “My obsession endangered thousands of citizens… and my students”
He took a shaky breath and bowed his head where he sat. “…I offer my most sincere apologies.”
The apology wasn’t just meant for you, or the seven standing behind you. It was for every guest, for his city, for his school, for the entire world he had nearly burned to the ground.
“The evening is ruined,” he said before trying to stand, you helped him again, slipping your arm under his. “The ceremony cannot continue under these conditions.”
He looked genuinely distressed, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. You kept your grip steady and glanced toward the entrance. Grim was still waiting there, sitting quietly—but clearly trying not to vibrate from the tension. The doorway itself was intact, and the area around it too.
Yes, the hall was wrecked…but wasn’t magic also meant to help, not just destroy?
Also… where the hell was Crowley when someone actually needed him? Of course. Useless bird.
“…is it?” you said, breaking the thick tension.
Rollo turned toward you, startled, and you gave him a small, almost amused look and shrugged again.
“The structure is still standing, fortunately” Your gaze swept the damaged hall. “And the guests are safe”
It seemed Malleus shared your thinking, he stepped forward. “A ceremony is not defined by perfection,” he said, extending his arms slightly toward the hall. “But by those who gather within it… and choose to remain”
Rollo blinked, slightly disoriented. Malleus stepped closer, now standing in front of both of you.
“If the host permits,” he continued, his eyes sincere and calm, “Night Raven College would be willing to offer a performance in place of the interrupted program”
Kalim’s eyes lit up instantly as he joined the circle. “Oh! We can do that!”
From further back, Idia fiddled nervously with the sleeves of his very extravagant suit. “…are we activating emergency concert mode…?” His face looked like someone ready to teleport back to his room and lock the door for the next week.
Azul removed his hat and tapped it against his leg, knocking loose a few ash particles clinging to its ocean-themed decorations. “A collaborative performance would calm the guests and stabilize the atmosphere”
Leona let out a loud grunt. “You guys are annoying”
Clearly uncomfortable with the resolution, he turned and walked down the hall, but not toward the exit. Instead he kicked a fairly intact bench and dropped onto it.
“…you’re not going to help, are you?” snapped Vil, arms crossed.
“I’m not singing if that’s what you’re asking, pretty boy” Leona leaned back, arms behind his head, eyes closing as if savoring what little peace remained before chaos resumed.
You snorted softly and turned your head away, covering your mouth to hide a smile.
“This night does not have to end in ashes,” Malleus said again. “Not if you decide otherwise.”
Rollo studied Malleus carefully, perhaps searching for resentment, disgust, or superiority. But Malleus didn’t look at people like that; you knew that. But that was something only you understood… and something you’d keep very quiet.
No, Rollo found none of those things. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes.
When he exhaled, his composure had returned. “…very well”
He slipped his arm free from yours and stood straight again. “If your school truly wishes to offer such generosity… Noble Bell College will be honored.”
The decision spread through the room like a spark catching dry wood.
Rollo moved toward the doors with renewed purpose, you followed at a slight distance, your good hand lightly touching the knuckles of the injured one through the glove. When you reached the doorway, you crouched and picked Grim up. Rollo was already speaking to the attendants, directing them into motion.
Lanterns were relit, broken furniture beyond repair was carried outside, pieces that could still stand were pushed aside, some attendants used magic to clean the soot-darkened marble. Malleus helped with that as well.
Within minutes the hall had nearly returned to its original state. The musicians who had once prepared the ceremonial music brought out instruments again, students from Noble Bell College hurried to reconstruct something resembling a formal—if now acoustic—evening.
Rollo stood at the center of it all, overseeing the work, ensuring nothing was misplaced, watching the Night Raven College delegation help, issuing calm instructions to his students.
His gaze moved across the entire hall, until it returned to you.
“I wish to offer my most sincere apology,” his voice carrying clearly across the room, the bruise on his cheek was now unmistakable. “I failed my guests… and those who showed the courage I lacked in that moment.”
His bow was so deep he nearly folded in half. You tightened your grip around Grim against your chest as you watched him straighten again.
“You intervened when reason could no longer reach me,” he continued. “And for that… you have my sincere gratitude. And my apology”
How many times had people bowed or inclined themselves before you tonight? Five? Six? Who knew.
It certainly wouldn’t be the last.
“I placed you in danger inside my own academy.” You held his gaze, but this time you didn’t bow. Your neck was already starting to ache from all the earlier ones.
“I’m just glad the city isn’t on fire.”
Rollo simply nodded and looked around again. The students of Noble Bell were nearly finished restoring the hall, and the seven dorm leaders had regrouped in their usual cluster of dramatic personalities.
Their attention was now very clearly fixed on you, you could practically feel their eyes drilling into your back. Behind the thin mask you gave yourself a completely deadpan look. They couldn't possibly be more obvious. You huffed quietly and waited while the last details were set in place, a student lit the final candle on a low chandelier.
“Earlier you mentioned that your family works in the field of musical performance,” Rollo said. You turned your head so quickly your neck nearly cracked.
“And… that you yourself train your voice.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Kalim elbow Azul so he would stop talking to Idia and pay attention. Vil's eyes sharpened with sudden artistic interest...That was definitely not a good sign.
Rollo clasped his hands together near his chest, almost pleading. “The choir scheduled for tonight has been… interrupted”
He then extended his hands toward you. “If the young lady who helped save this ceremony would be willing—even a brief performance—” His palms opened upward. “…it might help restore calm among our guests.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop a tiny panicked squeak.
Kalim suddenly jumped forward, stopping far too close to your face. “That sounds fantastic!” He grabbed both your hands enthusiastically. You flinched slightly at the stab of pain in your knuckles. “Oh! Right, sorry!”
He released the injured one immediately, though his excitement didn’t dim in the slightest. “You can sing? You didn’t mention that earlier!”
You tried to respond, anything, but your mouth stayed half-open when Azul stepped closer too, wearing an expression of dangerously genuine curiosity.
“How convenient,” he said smoothly. “It seems the young lady possessed hidden talents” His sincere smile somehow made you even more nervous.
At lightning speed your eyes scanned the seven dorm leaders and Rollo, completely unable to form a single word. Every possible response in your head was immediately replaced by another, or interrupted by something someone in front of you said.
“…this is either the best narrative resolution ever or the beginning of a catastrophic post-credits scene,” Idia whispered to Riddle, he rolled his eyes and ignored the comment.
“Well then…” Vil crossed his arms, visibly expectant. “Can you?”
His smile looked like that of a film director who had just discovered his next muse and was about to shoot the best scene of his career.
“Here we go again,” groaned Leona, pinching the bridge of the nose. “Stop crowding her again” Vil gestured for him to be quiet.
You closed your mouth...Opened it again...Closed it again; then slowly inhaled. Honestly… it had already been a very long day: You had snuck into an international festival without an official invitation; dodged lethal magic-draining flowers; lied to the host of the entire event and punched him in the face in the middle of a burning hall.
At this point…
what was one more bad decision?
“…I can try”
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
From one of the tall windows of the hall, you had a perfect view of the performance unfolding below.
Malleus stood right at the center of the marble circle—calm, steady, almost statuesque. When he sang, his voice carried through the entire hall with a strength that everyone could feel. Beside him, Azul and Idia accompanied the song with suspicious precision; you had never seen them rehearse this performance, and you were fairly certain you had never heard this song echoing through the dorm corridors either.
“…wow,” Grim whispered from your arms, barely peeking out to watch. “They’re actually killing it”
“Yeah…” You leaned forward a little more.
The other dorm leaders stood off to one side of the hall watching the performance unfold, and just as he had promised, Leona had absolutely no intention of participating.
You leaned a little farther when you noticed something odd about Idia’s performance in front of the guests. “…Is Idia using a voice device?”
“…that guy really can’t live without technology,” Grim muttered, crossing his arms. His expression flattened when he spotted the small device Idia was clearly using to sing for him.
And even so…The performance was magnificent.
Malleus’s voice sounded so majestic it was both deep and almost angelic, probably one of the many perks of being a high fae and future prince. Idia’s voice—unexpectedly delicate despite being technological—and Azul’s tone blended perfectly together.
You rested your arms on the stone window frame and closed your eyes, finally allowing yourself to enjoy the evening the way you had originally planned. Grim climbed onto the window ledge beside you, adjusting his mask so he could see better. Both of you swayed gently with the rhythm of the music, and a smile slowly spread across your face.
“They’ve got this,” you murmured quietly, tapping a finger against your arm in time with the music. “Bastards… is there anything they can’t do well?”
Grim snickered, covering his mouth with his paw to keep the sound down. “They’re totally showing off.”
You laughed quietly along with him. When you opened your eyes again, you found Grim staring at you. “You’re next.”
Your smile, which had started out sarcastic, shifted into something more mischievous.
You looked back down toward the hall. The voices still flowed together in harmony, moving around the marble circle with a grace that Vil was probably mentally approving from somewhere nearby. The second chorus was about to begin.
“Well…” you straightened up, adjusting the fall of your skirt and the lace miraculously still intact over the red brocade. “I suppose it’s time to close the night with a golden finish”
Grim looked up at you, eyes narrowing skeptically, his little paws stretching toward you to be held again.“You know how to sing?”
You lifted him and settled him onto your shoulder, both of you looked down toward the stage one last time. Your voice obviously wouldn’t sound as perfect as Malleus’s, but at least it would sound human, warm.
Or so you hoped.
You adjusted your mask and stepped toward the staircase, running your hand along the stone edge of the window and grabbing a small black fan.
“…Where did you get that fan?” Grim asked.
You opened it, revealing a simple design of floral embroidery and delicate lace. “It was on one of the benches”
“Hng… you’re adding more drama.”
Right then, Malleus’s voice surged through the entire hall structure as he reached the final note. The sound vibrated through the room, leaving behind a faint but powerful echo.
You paused mid-step and glanced upward as if your eyes could follow the note sliding through the air, then you gave Grim a playful look. “Come on” You turned toward the stairs. “We’ve got to compete with our prince”
The final chord echoed for a few seconds, applause followed, warm and energized, proof that the performance of those three had worked. The night had been saved.
You set Grim down at the top of the stairs, placing him beside a small decorative window at his height so he could watch the next act. When your heel touched the first step, the lighting along the staircase dimmed slightly, casting a softer contrast around your silhouette.
Fan open, one hand resting lightly on the railing, your heart racing a mile a minute. This would either go spectacularly well…
or become the most embarrassing moment of your life.
You glanced once more at Grim for support, he lifted one paw in a tiny thumbs-up; that was apparently the feline version of encouragement.
And so you began your descent, slow steps, measured, careful. Falling now would be catastrophic. No one wanted to watch the mysterious masked woman who had saved the evening tumble down twenty marble steps.
“Masquerade
Paper faces on parade
Masquerade
Hide your face, so the world will never find you…”
The applause died instantly, your voice wasn't loud nor powerful like Malleus’s, it didn’t have Azul’s precision, nor Idia’s delicate tone...But hopefully it was unmistakably human, and familiar. Almost… comforting.
Each step down the marble curved with the melody, the lace of the dress catching the candlelight, the fan tilting slightly, slow movements as if you were stepping into a courtship circle.
Below in the hall, the seven leaders stood still. Malleus, Idia, and Azul had returned to stand with the others and now the entire group once again had their eyes fixed on you.
Both Azul and Riddle tensed in unison, not expecting your voice to emerge so soft. Singing while descending a staircase could be rather complicated if you didn’t have proper vocal control; walking while singing alone could already be tiring and might make your voice tremble.
Kalim, who stood on the opposite side of Riddle, grabbed his sleeve and began shaking it, pointing at you as you continued your descent. His mouth hung open, nearly reaching the floor, forming a small wow while you fanned yourself with each descending step.
“Masquerade
Every face a different shade
Masquerade
Look around, there’s another mask behind you”
You continued downward, slow but steady, each step landing precisely with the tempo of the lyrics. Now the fan moved a little faster.
Vil followed your figure with every step, every movement of your dress flowing smoothly over the stairs; your posture perfectly straight, your weight settling properly onto each foot as it should, the heels striking neatly in time with the tempo. He watched how you moved the fan, as if it were a supporting actor that required very little to be perfect.
Idia stood behind Vil, slightly hunched with his mask poorly positioned; it looked like he had removed it for a moment after the performance, or rather, like he had deflated after carrying out such an intense social activity in front of so many people. His head barely leaned past Vil’s shoulder as he watched how you didn’t need much to sound… simple, soothing.
The last curve of the staircase opened beneath your feet. The light framed you warmer there, spilling gold across the newly polished floor. You extended the hand holding the fan slightly to the side as the verse neared its end, and when your foot touched the final step…the music swelled, the violins accompanying the delicate chimes while a few percussion instruments followed.
“Flash of mauve,
Splash of puce,
Fool and king,
Ghoul and goose,
Green and black,
Queen and priest,
Trace of rouge,
Face of beast”
You advanced farther into the open hall, guests stepped aside to give you room, as if the song itself were clearing a path for you. The warmth of your voice filled the space the fear had left behind earlier, moving through the hall softer than magic, steadier than the ceremony.
Leona had remained leaning against a pillar, watching without making any visible movement or comment toward the others. His arms rested at his sides, palms against the pillar, his gaze moving up and down your figure as he watched you walk through the crowd. But he wasn’t looking at you the way Vil was.
No. He observed you as if trying to solve a puzzle that had been gnawing at him since the afternoon in the plaza. The mysterious masked girl who had stumbled into the group and carried herself with a natural ease almost humiliating for the seven of them clearly had an ace up her sleeve… an ace that felt strangely familiar, though he couldn’t remember from where.
And Malleus…was doing exactly the same. Watching you; but with a softer gaze, as though he were seeing a nymph within her own spring and he were merely a mortal fortunate enough to stumble upon her, fate too generous to allow him to witness such a spectacle.
Then…more voices joined, almost by accident. A voice close to you murmured quietly, then a couple near the edge of the circle, just above the violins, then another pair, cautious but slightly more confident.
All of those voices testing whether they were allowed to join—as though they were forming a chorus to accompany your performance. And you allowed it.
A performance so human was always better when accompanied, wasn’t it?
“Faces
Take your turn, take a ride
On the merry-go-round
In an inhuman race…”
A pair of masked dancers stepped onto the open floor, slowly and cautiously at first; no choreography, only instinct, their movements catching the rhythm just as the candlelight caught the stained glass.
More joined. It wasn’t a full dance yet—just a movement here, another there. And gradually, what had begun with only your voice started turning into a complete spectacle.
You moved the fan in flowing motions upward with the rhythm of the lyrics—the dramatic courtship play Grim had mentioned.
“Eye of gold,
Thigh of blue,
True is false,
Who is who?
Curl of lip,
Swirl of gown,
Ace of hearts,
Face of clown”
The chorus of guests was unmistakable now, harmonizing with yours—not raising their voices to compete with you, but filling the space so the performance reverberated just as powerfully as Malleus’s voice alone had earlier.
Dozens of voices intertwined softly beneath yours; it was like watching the masquerade itself sing to close the night. Silk skirts began to spin, cloaks gliding across the floor, candlelight casting soft shadows over every figure and across the marble.
“Faces
Drink it in, drink it up
Till you’ve drowned in the light, in the sound
But who can name the face?”
You turned your head toward a woman dressed exquisitely, wearing an immaculate violet gown, a mask almost identical to yours covered her eyes, she also carried a fan matching her dress.
With a movement that seemed rehearsed, the two of you raised your fans in front of your faces at the same moment. Everyone nearby who held a fan did exactly the same.
And for the third time that evening—after an inconvenient encounter, after an infernal chaos—the event finally felt like a masquerade again.
Right there, at the center of everything, this time a center you had actually sought, you found yourself surrounded by a ballroom that had willingly become part of your song.
“Masquerade!
Grinning yellows, spinning reds
Masquerade!
Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!”
The dance burst to life.
No longer were there hesitant couples barely swaying, now they spun with confidence to the sound of the violins, gowns and suits tracing wide arcs across the marble floor. You moved among the turns like a master of ceremonies, your skirt’s movement blending with the others, spinning not to dance but to carry your voice to every corner of the hall.
Kalim’s eyes widened as he watched the sea of fabrics spinning and spinning—it was dizzying just to see so much coordination. “Oh! People are really joining in!”
Azul watched keenly. “Fascinating… she’s stabilizing the entire room”
A few steps away, a Noble Bell student, tall, immaculate, his uniform pristine and untouched by ash, walked directly toward you.
Closer, closer still, until he stood only a single step away, moving in rhythm with the crowd, following your steps before bowing and extending his hand.
A formal invitation, a very legitimate one, the kind of official invitation you had hoped for ever since the festival had been announced. All afternoon you had hesitated about where to walk, hesitated about what to say so you wouldn’t be discovered. Now…
you simply wanted to dance, and you accepted the invitation without stopping your singing.
You snapped the fan closed softly against your hip while allowing him to guide you into the swirling mass of couples turning across the floor. Some dancers even lifted their partners into the air, far too bold a movement for you, so you wisely didn’t attempt it.
Your dance was coordinated and fairly simple compared to the others, whose steps already carried the etiquette of ballroom tradition, yours remained softer, movements that allowed the dress to breathe and form dark circles trimmed with red, and enough stillness that your voice could continue floating above the chorus.
The student spun you once just as the orchestra swelled, your dress opened in a dark flare that caught the golden light like a glowing ember refusing to fade.
Across the floor, the seven dorm leaders watched as the performance had truly become that— a performance.
Dance, music, lead voice, chorus. Had you really not planned this from the start?
Vil murmured more to himself than the others, captivated by the way your dress followed every turn. “Control, breath rhythm, audience integration.” He adjusted both sleeves before adding his final verdict. “She has stage instinct”
He walked straight into the crowd and invited the first person he saw waiting near the edge of the dance floor. The others stared in silence for a few seconds before Kalim burst into laughter and strode toward the center as well, inviting a Noble Bell student to dance.
The hall had fully surrendered now, no more uncertain steps or scattered movements—only a sea of silk and velvet, feathered hats swaying in the air, lace glimmering beneath the softened lights.
Couples changed hands in coordinated turns, everyone pulsed with the rhythm of the music.
“You can fool
Any friend who ever knew you”
The student guiding you spun you once more, then another step, then he released your hand with elegant timing within the flow of the dance, allowing another guest to take it. Then another, and another; You remained on the dance floor as if you had been born to dance until sunrise.
The orchestra never truly stopped after that.
One song melted into the next, the tempo rising and softening in waves while the lantern light grew warmer, as though the night itself had finally remembered what it was meant to be.
And you danced, and danced, and danced. Occasionally glancing upward toward the window where Grim watched from his hiding place, until he grew bored and hurried down the stairs toward a small table where snacks and drinks had been arranged.
And Grim, being Grim, went straight for the snacks. You shook your head, amused, unable to suppress the smile at the irony of it all: Grim worrying only about food, completely forgetting the stealth part…while you danced with strangers.
At first.
Because in the middle of another turn, Kalim arrived. He practically bounced his way over, bowing with an enthusiastic sincerity that somehow remained perfectly polite.
“May I?” he asked, already smiling as though the answer could only be yes.
His dancing was open, slightly less precise than the formal protocol demanded, but relaxed enough that the turns felt light and smooth rather than rigid and ceremonial.
If the music hadn’t dictated the style, Kalim probably would have dragged you into a dozen far more energetic moves across the entire floor.
“Best night ever,” he laughed softly as you spun together. His laughter was so contagious it made you laugh too—though you kept it much more controlled this time.
“I’m really glad you stayed” He spun you again in a partner exchange.
Next came Riddle. He stepped forward with impeccable posture, offering his hand with textbook ceremonial formality. “I would like to request this dance,” he said, composed, but unmistakably sincere.
His steps were perfect, structured, exactly as ballroom manuals likely instructed for someone leading a partner. Not stiff, simply precise—as if every movement had been practiced until he could guide another person with absolute confidence.
“You handle chaos surprisingly well,” he admitted quietly during a turn.
Ah…if only you knew
Then came Azul. He bowed with a touch of theatrical flair, though still formal, like a merchant about to greet a valuable soul. “It would be a tragedy not to experience a dance with you”
He guided you effortlessly, every step deliberate, every movement calculated so that you appeared exquisite, as though you were a rare piece in an impossibly expensive collection. And he remained in the background…letting you shine.
Vil arrived afterward as if the night itself had set a timer so he would appear at the exact right moment, balancing the aesthetic of the three who had gone before him.
His hand was firm, confident; the dance elegant without effort, posture impeccable, movement fluid—the kind of partner who doesn’t just dance but shapes the entire image of the ballroom around him.
“You understand presentation,” he murmured near your ear. “Presence. That’s rare to find” He released your hand for an open step, ending with you spinning on yourself and landing briefly in the blond’s arms before he let you go again.
You were surprised when Idia came next. His expression showed he was fighting every ounce of his anxiety and preparing himself like someone about to face a hidden final boss.
“…okay.” He took your hand in his, visibly trembling and a little hesitant. “Statistically speaking I’m going to regret this—or die—if I don’t at least try once…”
His steps were clumsy, but not enough for you to step on his feet, nor for him to step on yours. Idia had more secrets tucked up his sleeves than he liked to show the world.
One step, then another, and then, surprisingly, he became careful, mentally counting the next movements so you could continue looking radiant in your dress. “It’s easy… being next to you,” he admitted quietly, placing a hand on your waist. “That… that’s not common for me.”
Leona came next. He didn’t arrive in a spin, handing you off to the next dancer. No; he simply appeared when the music slowed slightly, one brow raised and the corner of his mouth faintly lifted, refusing you the honor of seeing a full smile.
His hand extended with the same casual inevitability he had shown in the plaza. “Come on. You already survived the worst of it”
His grip was firm, steady, strong enough that dancing with him felt like walking beside someone who had temporarily decided not to bite anyone.
Like with Idia, you were surprised by how careful Leona could be while dancing. Of course, as a prince he had been forced to learn etiquette and ballroom lessons. And now you were witnessing the results of that irritating education.
Very good results, to be honest.
Because when the choreography called for the lead to lift his partner again, Leona didn’t hesitate, nor did he give you a warning, he lifted you by the waist. You let out a small yelp before touching the floor again, Leona steadied you against him so you wouldn’t stumble during the next steps.
“You don’t show panic,” he said quietly, leaning closer to whisper near your ear. “Didn’t expect to find someone like that at an event this pompous.”
And finally...Malleus.
He appeared without hurry, not interrupting the moment you had with Leona until the partners changed naturally. He stepped forward as the music reached the last measures of the slow dance, transitioning toward something deeper and more intimate, an instant carved into midnight itself as the first rhythm came to a close.
“May I share this dance?” he asked softly, bowing slightly before taking your hand and guiding you through the final movements of that first rhythm with the other dancers.
His hand was warm around yours, his steps slow, deliberate, impossibly gentle for someone so tall and imposing, as if the music being played had been written specifically for the two of you.
“You brought light back to this hall tonight,” he said quietly so only you could hear him, ignoring everyone else around you. “Whether you intended to or not”
Laughter floated through the air as the first rhythm of the night ended. Seven dances, with seven boys, all stepping away from you carrying the same strange feeling, that they had just spent time with someone important… and somehow familiar.
And you allowed yourself to keep smiling and dancing. For once, you allowed yourself to have the night Crowley had stolen from you.
One dance became two; two became five.
At some point the evening stopped feeling like something you had infiltrated and barely survived, and became something you were simply living. Living far from the cold walls of Ramshackle, far from the magic-soaked stone of NRC.
In the distance, the spell of the moment broke with a bell chime, small and practical. A bell announcing that it was already very late.
Your eyes shot toward the tall clock mounted against the marble wall. “…oh no.”
You had approached the snack table, where Grim had apparently devoured everything edible and was now curled up beside it waiting for you.
When he heard you mutter, he lifted his head. “Mm?”
“We’re out of time,” you said, looking at him in horror.
“HMNYA?!” he jumped up.
“If we don’t leave now,” you whispered in his ear, avoiding attracting attention, the earlier squeak had already made several guests glance toward the table, “we won’t get back to campus before they do”
You scanned the crowd, searching for an escape route. “And if Crowley gets there first—”
Grim gasped and jumped into your arms. “We’re dead”
“Exactly”
The music swelled again and several people stepped back into the center of the hall for another round, perfect cover. You adjusted Grim in your arms and reopened the fan, hiding him slightly as you began walking quickly.
“Okay, we walk fast,” you said quietly while heading toward the reading hall doors. “No running. We blend in with the people leaving and slip out before anyone notices.”
You pushed your way step by step through the living sea of masks, guests, and students, gliding between couples mid-turn, passing laughing students.
Every movement controlled to avoid suspicion, but urgent.
You were only a few steps away, close enough to feel the cool night air slipping through the carved gap in the wooden door, close enough that one more step would take you out of the lantern light, the music, the masquerade entirely.
And you pushed the enormous door open, stepping straight into the outer corridor.
╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌
“This was probably the most fun disaster I’ve ever attended.” Kalim had his hands behind his head, still smiling as if the night hadn’t stopped being magical.
The dorm leaders had gathered near one of the marble pillars. The music from the hall drifted faintly just a few meters away.
Riddle adjusted his gloves, nodded, and placed his hands behind his back. “The structural damage was severe, but the response was… effective.”
Azul had picked up a glass from the table, apparently unaware that Grim had already raided the food there. He swirled it in his hand, watching the liquid spiral slightly.
“Indeed” He took a small sip and looked toward the hall doors. “Although there is still one clause unresolved”
Vil had followed him and taken a glass of wine, sipping occasionally. He hadn’t even finished half of it. “The mysterious lady”
Idia nodded, by now he had removed his mask. “Mysterious young woman, SSR-tier character who punches the main villain with maxed-out stats.”
Kalim, who had only half been listening, glanced around—the others, the muffled music beyond the door, the outer corridor—his gaze bounced everywhere for a moment, then he suddenly straightened, exhaling through his nose.
“She said her brother studies at NRC.” That made the others turn toward him.
Vil lifted the glass to his lips thoughtfully, his eyes sharp though his mind clearly elsewhere. “Yes… that detail is useful”
“The NRC enrollment is not infinite,” Riddle said with a slight frown. “Establishing familial connections may take time” He sighed. “But it will not be impossible”
Vil set the glass carefully on a stone bench. “A voice like that won’t remain hidden for long.”
“Yes,” Malleus added calmly, his eyes drifting toward the hall. “Fate rarely introduces someone only once” Vil crossed his arms at that remark, giving a small nod before following the direction of Malleus’s gaze.
Leona had remained leaning against the column beside Kalim the entire time, hands in his pockets, head tilted toward the hall doors—still listening to the distant music and the crowd dancing, laughing, talking.
“Maybe we’ll see her again before the night ends—” Kalim started.
But Leona’s ears sharpened, his eyes narrowed toward the distance.
“…Oi” That was all he said to make the others pay attention.
On the other side of the outer corridor, the great doors of the hall opened—and there you were, moving quickly. The black and crimson dress was unmistakable even under the dim light of the corridor, the small creature tucked in your arms as you hurried toward the outer doors.
That alone was enough for the seven of them to straighten in unison, watching your figure cross the corridor. Kalim pointed at you and barely raised his voice to say, “There she goes!”
Vil stepped forward immediately, then another step, Azul set his own glass beside Vil’s, adjusted his suit, and followed him. The seven of them began to move closer, like a flock of crows closing in on a small prey, or rather… their little dove.
They were close enough to see you, but not close enough for you to notice them. Your figure passed beside a guest whose decorations stuck out everywhere, especially along the sleeves and shoulders.
And then the most cliché, ridiculous thing that could possibly happen at an event like this happened.
A strand of your hair snagged as you rushed past, and the ribbon of your mask caught on the guest’s decorations.
“Ah—sorry!” the guest said, quickly freeing your hair and the ribbon when your head jerked backward. The tug made you drop Grim, and he jumped to the floor.
“It’s nothing,” you replied, continuing forward once your hair came loose. The guest went his way while you headed straight for the outer doors.
The ribbon slipped free, the mask fell one step later. You instinctively turned, bringing a hand to the back of your head, startled as the fabric mask dropped to the ground.
One second, one undeniable second was all it took for your face to be completely revealed under the moonlight. The mystery shattered, and before the seven leaders of NRC, the young lady was revealed:
The Prefect of Ramshackle.
Meanwhile you were far too busy picking up the fallen mask, your heart pounding like you had just run a marathon when the realization hit you all at once.
“…oh shit—” You snatched the mask off the floor and bolted toward the door.
“GRIM!” you shouted, your voice now unmistakably clear in the night air and the quiet city. “MOVE OR YOU’RE SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR WITHOUT TUNA FOR A WEEK IF WE’RE LATE!”
The small hooded creature shrieked in terror. “YES, PREFECT—!”
The two of you ran like a princess racing back to her tower before the spell wore off...except you looked more like two idiots sprinting full speed toward the city lights as if your lives, and possibly your financial privileges, depended on it. Within seconds the darkness swallowed you both, disappearing down the outer corridor toward the main gates.
Silence followed, and the ones who had been pursuing you with steady steps… were left stunned by the revelation.
Kalim’s jaw dropped, not caring how dramatic or over-the-top he looked; Riddle’s eyes widened and a faint blush colored his cheeks; Azul removed his glasses to clean them with trembling hands, an entirely pointless gesture, as he pinched the bridge of his nose; Idia made a strangled sound, like his system had just crashed into a blue screen he couldn’t reboot; Leona and Vil blinked at the same time, shooting each other a sidelong glance; Malleus simply watched as the final piece of the puzzle clicked neatly into place, confirming that lingering sense of familiarity.
A pause followed...A long pause, far too long.
Vil didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his entire existence. He pressed his lips into a thin line, moved his hands aimlessly for a moment, and was just about to turn away in frustration. “…oh for fuck’s sake.” The fact that he had sworn meant you had played your move perfectly.
Idia crouched down and buried his face in his hands. “I want to die”
Azul, still pinching the bridge of his nose, let out a long breath. “We should have known”
And honestly, yes.
They had been idiots not to realize; inside their minds the gears finally started turning: The voice, her composure in danger, that laugh, the ridiculous courage, the familiar, the way she handled chaos without magic.
Leona dragged a hand down his face and let out a deep, irritated growl. “She masked her scent so we wouldn’t notice”
Kalim, whose mouth had still been hanging open, suddenly burst into a small laugh as he looked toward where you had disappeared. “Oh! That makes so much sense!” He laughed freely.
“No wonder we could flirt with her so naturally”
“FLIRT?!”
“NOBODY HERE FLIRTED WITH ANYONE!”
“MY CHARISMA STAT IS NOT THAT HIGH!”
Several voices erupted at once, some embarrassed, some shy, some in complete denial. Malleus, still perfectly composed in the middle of the chaos, simply closed his eyes and allowed his companions to argue, offering the night a small smile.
Leona didn’t even stay to watch the end of the debate over who had flirted more. He simply closed his eyes, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked back toward the hall, he shouting was already giving him a headache.
Imagine whats inside the mind and thoughts of the RSA cast when they realize you are dating their NRC counterpart, of course the heart of jealousy takes root.
Ooh, I care, I care, I care, like ribbons in your hair My stomach's all in knots, you got the one thing that I want
Twst men x reader ( minajael Tealrajah, rielle Corallia, Neige leblanche )
>> sorry if it's a little messy and I'm still waiting for the realest of the others.
MINAJAEL
When he first met you, it was outside of the palace–when he was running off from his attendance he accidentally bumped into you while you were eating at a food stand. He would graciously pay for it but he could hear the footstep of his attendance coming close, for some reason he decided to grab your hand and involved you in this conflict. When you and him manage to get away from the crowd, he immediately apologizes for dragging you into this. But first he is a Little confused that you seem not to recognize him, either his disguise is good or you don't know him–which is a relief for him because he doesn't need to worry about a scandal. Originally he wanted to follow you, originally you denied because you thought he was a theft due to the amount of people that were chasing him–honestly he doesn't know whether or not he should be impressed that you called a prince a thief or you deadass have no clue who he is.
By the uniform, it looks like you are a student of Night Raven College his rival school. Since there's extra time before the tournament began, you and him decided to explore. He was about to ask what route would you guys take to not be caught but in the corner of his eye, he saw you jump from the window–instead of hearing a thud he saw that you were sitting in a flying carpet, since the design looks similar towards ones that his cousin kalim own–he thought you might steal it so at first he was the one that didn't want to go with you. You started to get annoyed by him but decided to swallow it down because this dude might be a big shot due to the way he talks, you extended your hand towards him similar towards how your boyfriend kalim did when the first time he takes you on a joy ride–"do you trust me" you asked him. He replied with "no" but after a few seconds and you are still extending your hand to his, he sighed and took it.
That day was the best day of his life, despite being a prince–minajael would envy how his cousin was allowed to have such freedom. He saw the skies as well as going on adventures with you, heck you and him even almost got caught. The entire time, he could none stop looking at you with longing as well as amusement–he envies your freedom yet feels more relaxed around you. But it seems the sun's about to be settled and both of you have to return, it seems he was upset but agreed. That night, he dreams of the sweetest dreams about a person he wants to spend his life with.
Since you are a student of NRC, he assumes that he will meet you again and he did. During intermission, he decided to look for you wanting to keep talking to you–he did find you, but in the presence of his cousin kalim. A sudden punch in the gut happened inside his stomach, despite you and him met at such a short time–he genuinely feels a spark between you and him more than the princesses his family try to set up. It seems you and kalim are close... Seeing his cousin arms around your waist leaning his head on your shoulder make a brewing jealousy on his heart, yet you didn't push Kalim away–you simply enjoy his affection.
He retreated back towards the room he was staying passing rielle who looked confused why is he walking so fast and looking so distraught. Minajael refused to be seen like this, it makes him feel weak but the image of you and his cousin circle around his thoughts. "Do you trust me" is a line that is constantly repeated in his mind, a knife is twisting in his stomach. Thousands of thoughts come up in his head, do you like his cousins because he is energetic as well as beautiful. His cousin is nice and caring, while he's more tense as well as having a hard time letting people in–would you love him more if he changes his style to match his cousins, his thoughts were interrupted with rielle checking up on him because the announcement was soon to begin–and he started with a bitter pill to start.
RIELLE
You met the prince when you were, walking around–you were acting as an announcer for Crowley during the games as well as Crowley little helper. While you were carrying some paper, some guy was excitedly running around checking everything and slipping into you causing all the papers you were carrying fall. He immediately apologized and picked the papers, but suddenly stopped. Unfortunately it seems you were not focused on the seventh prince of the coral seas who was looking at you star struck, you pick up your stuff and left in a hurry.
As your silhouette fades away from the hall, rielle is left sitting in the floor starstruck and wondering who's that charming person. Life as the seventh prince is not easy you know, he is constantly overlooked by people as well as his own family but this strange new feeling in his stomach warms his heart. Is this what humans called falling in love at first sight, if it is–then it's a beautiful feeling because now he's looking forward to meeting you again. Every time, when he sees a glimpse of you–he would drop everything to see you even going against his headmasters orders, people of the sefurce are beautiful he has to admit and you are the most beautiful one.
But recently he's been seeing you around with an old classmate of his during elementary school, Azul. You and him seem to be very close, thinking as if you and him are just friends but there's an underlying feeling of jealousy and a pain telling rielle that you and Azul are dating–but he guess he denies it. Back then, Azul was nothing but a person who was targeted by bullying as well as mockery of others due to being squid merman. He would pretend to bump into you and azuls hang outs ( dares ) , hoping by doing this–he would gain your attention.
Yet deep down he knows that the truth is that you and Azul were dating, the way you look at him and as well as how Azul would express his care with affection would make him jealous and stop in his tracks. Originally he thought by also giving you gifts and presents, it would cause you and him to be closer but it has the opposite effect. He wonders why he is not allowed to give you a gift while Azul can, isn't he also allowed to have gifts towards you. He started to grow bitter, not towards you or Azul but himself.
Recently he's been doing a lot of self comparison towards Azul and him, rielle notice on how Azul hair is almost perfect as well as not messy like his. If he's hair is like that would you know him, I mean it's understandable that you like Azul. He is cool as well as smart, talented as well as handsome unlike him, rielle is more energetic, often too whimsy for others taste and naive. Rielle would try to copy Azul movements and the way he confidently walked into a room, but he's unable to project the same atmosphere as him. In the end the prince is defeated, and has to see his beloved in the arms of another person. He wishes that you would turn around and look at him but you didn't, because you are too busy looking at Azul then him. That night, rielle is in his room–his hands are covering his faces but behind is a heartbroken man with tears running down his cheek–he looks at the night stand and sees a picture of you he took, grabbing the frame and cuddling with it.
NEIGE
Neige always has a feeling that you and vil have something special between the both of you. When he first met you, he thought he finally met his princess. He was absolutely captivated by you, because you help him get away from a group of crazy fans not to mention putting yourself in harms way for his safety making sure he doesn't get lost or discovered amongst the crowds of observers. He sees how hard working you are during the VDC, which is a quality he respects and admires from you.
He continued to try to meet you, by sneaking towards NRC when he had free time. As well as asking for your number from your teammates, he sees how you care for others as well as despite being a little strict on your familiar–you deeply cared for grim as well as taking care of him. Grim would wonder why a famous actor like neige would keep visiting the ramshackle dorm just to meet you, but he would often brush it off due to the amount of sweets as well as gifts the famous actor bring.
The Media has been obsessing over who's the fixation over neige dreams. Many of his fans are heart broken by the news that neige already found a princess and is now courting them. Although neige haven't reveal anything much towards the public due to the Respects of your privacy, students of NRC like ace and deuce has been caught of guard when the actor is sitting in your dorm drinking cup of tea with grim on his lap talking towards you as well as wanting to get to know you.
These visits have become a weekly habit, neige would clear his schedule just to meet you and get to know you–sometimes if the weather is too bad, he would stay at the dorm. And in that moment, he feels right at home–being in your presence brings him comfort. One day, it was a normal visit but it was interrupted by another student of NRC–he believes that his name was rook but for some reason, the hunter is not allowing him from entering the dorm. The hunter simply look at neige with a pitiful look, and without saying a word lead the actor hands towards a window. The sight makes neige frozen in his spot, using the window he could see you and vil in an intimate hug with each other–it seems you and the Pomifiore dorm leader are close.
A sudden pang in his heart, as if a knife twisted upon his once beating heart. You were never and would never be his, after seeing the hunters look–he excuse himself and retreat back into his home. He did not even care if he gets caught, the entire time of his walk–his mind is constantly trying to find what makes vil better than him, he could understand your preference–vil has a sharp and regal look while neige has a cute yet beautiful face. The more he thinks about it, the more the knife twists in his heart. You only see him as a friend, no wonder you were distant –you were already vils one true love and not his. And that truth hurt him more than ever, the next day his management declared that neige will be going on a break for not apparent reason but people assume that he is gushing over romance but it's pretty the opposite.
I can't wait to write more fics with the RSA characters especially jealousy and yandere ones.
yup, it was a bad idea, you knew it but the idea seemed hilarious! you never really call him anything other than his name or love, honey or sweetheart. but bro? or even dude? yeah no, never.
he seemed genuinely offended, he was casually eating and savouring every bite of his favourite meal that you cooked and instead of intimately asking him "how's the food honey?" you go for "pass me the salt bro" ? criminal offense you should be jailed.
and he is so damn dramatic that he too refused to call you anything but bro. at first you passed it off as like him getting back at you but it's been 2 WEEKS FOR GOD'S SAKE! if pettiness was a human then it would be them, literally.
"okay fine! I'm sorry I shouldn't have called you bro even though it sounded silly!"
you cling to his arm, out of frustration, and touch-starved as creases between your brows and a frown adorns your face. you nuzzle your face and rub it on his biceps in an attempt to break down that wall. "please baby please?" you make puppy eyes at him. this one's gotta work...
he hesitates for a moment before sighing and dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your lips. "anything but bro dear... please... I would want nothing but endearments and my name falling from your lips" and another kiss.
SUMMARY: First, Skully kissed your hand and said all those sweet words to you, and now he's kidnapping you?! After they rescue you, they won't let him get near you again!
CHARACTERS: Overblot Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia) x Yuu (Reader)
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Cute jealousy; Hand kisses
WARNING: Spoilers from Twisted Thrills Vs. Classic Chills (Lost in the Book with Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas)
WORD COUNT: An average of 1.260 words per character.
COMMENTS: Since English isn't my first language, it's always a bit more challenging for me to write the dialogue for characters as eloquent as Skully, but I try my best.
Hope you enjoy 🎃
CONTEXT: I wrote this as a supplement to the original story. So here are just the parts that would change if they had a crush on you. 😉
Even knowing that Skully had done the exact same thing to him and everyone else, Riddle couldn't contain his sudden annoyance when he saw Skully kissing your hand.
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
“What do you think you're doing?” Riddle says instinctively and positions himself between you and Skully.
“Oh, I was merely extending my deepest gratitude for the occasion of our acquaintance.” Skully explains with a smile. “And, of course, I could not fail to do the same with the lovely personage who was fast asleep in my arms upon their arrival.”
“F-fast asleep...” Riddle repeats before raising his voice, almost outraged. “IN YOUR ARMS?!”
“Well, yes. A wonderful coincidence, wasn't it? And such a fortuitous event deserved my utmost care for this person's well-being.”
“A... coincidence...” Riddle says through gritted teeth, thinking. Then takes a deep breath and continues. “Skully... I ... apologize for my reaction. From what I can understand, you were looking out for (Y/N) and simply exercising your gentlemanship. I may have... overreacted.” He says with a mix of embarrassment and reluctance.
“There is no need to worry. I can see that they are extremely dear to you. May I be so bold as to inquire how close you two are?”
Riddle blushes bright red and stutters slightly.
“In fact...” Jade smiles with that shrewd look. “I've always been curious to ask myself.”
Jamil, Leona and Azul also looked at Riddle with the same smirk.
“We... I... am not sure I understand your question. Shouldn't friends look out for each other?”
“If you'll excuse me...” Trey interferes. “I believe that at this moment we have more important things to worry about.”
“Well, much to my curiosity's chagrin, I can't disagree with that.” Jade admits.
“And that's the gist.” Jamil explains, after returning from checking on Jack's house, because you guys were taking so long to come back. “The mayor's driving around alerting the townsfolk now. This is turning into a real mess.”
“How...” Riddle’s face turned red, his pupils and irises contracted, and his voice grew hoarse with anger. “HOW DARE HE?! The moment I see him, IT WILL BE OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”
“Riddle, please calm down.” Jamil intervenes. “We have to find out where Skully took them, and we need to remain calm to analyze the possible clues to do so.”
“Fu fu. I wonder what Riddle would be capable of doing in this... situation.” Jade comments.
“This is neither the time nor the place to find that out.” Azul reprimands him.
Riddle takes a deep breath and agrees with Jamil, but without apologizing for his reaction. He can't calm down enough for that.
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. Riddle was the first to reach you.
“(Y/N)! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Skully had removed your and Grim's gags, but you still had your hands and feet tied. Without a second thought, Riddle plunges his arms into the candies to pick you up from the bathtub. He set you down on the ground ans uses his magic to untie the ropes that bound you. Immediately afterwards he bent down beside you to examine your wrists.
“I don't see any redness on your skin. He didn't tie you up too tightly.”
“Aww, were you that worried about me?” You ask.
“Of course I was! You were kidnapped. How was I supposed to feel?”
He was closer to you than he thought, and seeing you looking at him like that, he moved away, flustered. He clears his throat and composes himself, while the others struggle to get Grim out of the middle of the candy and wake Jack.
“Oh, Jack...!” Sally approaches as soon as you arrive at the Halloween Town plaza. “I'm so glad you're all right. I was worried sick!”
“You were worried about me?”
“Of course I was!”
“Wow... Thanks, Sally.” Jack smiles reassuringly. “But you don't need to worry anymore. See this? Not a bone out of place!”
Riddle has never left your side since they rescued you, and he's not oblivious enough not to notice that this exchange between Sally and Jack is very similar to the one you two had. This, plus the fact that he was one of those who noticed that Sally had some kind of crush on Jack, made him wonder if his situation with you might be similar in some way. But he quickly dismissed that thought from his head.
Some time later, Skully approaches you to apologize for what he did to you and Grim. Riddle is still by your side, but not even that stoped Skully from trying to apologize in his own way.
“Allow me to express my remorse through actions.” Skully finishes by saying and extends his hand to take yours, but before he can, Riddle is faster and protectively grabs your hand instead.
“Your words shall suffice!” Riddle retorts in a tone very similar to his Housewarden's assertive one.
“Oh, but-”
“(Y/N) already said they accepted your apology.” Riddle interrupts him and places himself between you and Skully. “Why don't you go check on Grim? He was saying his paws were numb after being in that bathtub for so long. Perhaps he requires your assistance.”
“Very well then.” Skully sighs, but with a smile. “If Grim is feeling to weak, I shall carry him myself.” He bids you both farewell and walks away to look for Grim.
“Is something wrong, Riddle?” You ask.
“Wrong? No. Why do you ask?” He simply replies.
“I think I remember you commenting that you appreciated Skully’s gentlemanly bearing, but... that's not what it seemed like just now.”
“Gh! I... I just...” He blushes slightly. “I just didn't think it would be appropriate, after what he did to you, for him to have the privilege of kissing your hand... Huh, Wait! I mean...”
“It's rare to see you so flustered with words.” You comment with a chuckle.
“I... I'm sorry if I intruded too much.” He apologizes, ashamed of himself. “I just... don't like seeing him so close to you. If he had the nerve to kidnap you, who knows what he might do next.”
“Well, he kisses everyone's hand, including yours.”
“Well, yes, a somewhat... strange habit.”
“And he really seems sorry for what he did.”
Riddle doesn't answer that one, he just looks away.
“Are you sure you're not just a little bit... jealous?”
His gaze abruptly returns to you, and his cheeks flush even more.
“What?! Don't be ridiculous. I'm just concerned about your well-being... I... think...”
You tell him that it’s okay, that you even find this side of him cute, and that makes him even more flustered.
“Well, I saw how flattered you were whenever he kissed your hand.” Riddle says, somewhat sullenly. He looks at you and sees you smiling encouragingly. “Why are you looking at me like...” He blushes when he realizes. “Wait! You want me to do it?!”
“Would you like to do it?”
He thinks for a second until he sighs with a small smile.
“Well, perhaps I should practice my gentlemanly.” He smiles confidently, straightens up, and extends his hand to you. “Allow me to demonstrate my affection for you through actions.”
He waits for you to place your hand in his so he can hold it tenderly, lean in, and kiss it gently but affectionately.
Leona is not one to get jealous easily, or maybe not at all. He saw this Skully guy kissing the backs of everyone's hands, including his own. Kissing yours didn't bother him, or at least not for the reason you might think.
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
If you say "You do this with everyone, huh." Leona will give a slight, half-smile, away from the eyes of everyone, including yours, pleased that you’re a clever herbivore.
If you say "What a gentleman.” Leona will know you're saying that to annoy him. And to annoy you back, he'll ignore (or at least pretend to ignore) what you said.
Leona found out that Skully had kidnapped you through the Mayor's advertising car. The fact that he was near Malleus of all people when he heard this did not help his composure.
“I see...” Malleus said. “This is certainly unexpected.”
“Tch, stupid badger. Why'd he have to pull such a boneheaded stunt?” Leona says, not simply annoyed, but angry. “Guess I'll have to find him and get this mess sorted myself.”
“Where are you going, Kingscholar?” Malleus says as he sees Leona starting to walk away from him. “Do you intend to handle this matter alone?”
“Figured that much was obvious. I'm under no obligation to team up with you just 'cuz you happened to be nearby.”
“The child of man's whereabouts are also unknown.”
‘Grrr... That stupid nickname again.’ Leona thinks.
“We cannot risk the worst coming to pass. In the interest of as swift a resolution as possible, I'd prefer to avoid wasting any time.”
“Oh yeah? The only way I'd be wasting time is by sticking with you.” Leona retorts and smiles smugly. “Or does the great and powerful Malleus Draconia have trouble functioning if he's not constantly surrounded by retainers?”
And so they return to their usual bickering.
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. Leona wasn't among them because he was with Sebek and Jamil taking care of Skully so that the other group could rescue you safely.
Nothing seemed strange about Leona until you arrived at the Halloween Town plaza and Skully approached you and Grim to apologize in his own way.
“Allow me to express my remorse through actions.” Skully says, takes your hand and kisses it.
He did the same with Grim, and while he was trying to offer his help to carry him, you see Leona in the distance, looking at you discreetly in a unbothered pose.
Epel told you about Leona offering his arm to Miss Sally because he thought he looked so mature and cool. You agree, but you can't deny to yourself that you also felt jealous. He was never such a gentleman to you.
“(Y/N)? Is something troubling you, my dear friend?” Skully asks you.
You say it was nothing and try to dismiss it.
“Please, if anything is bringing you down, tell me. A person as lovely and kind as you deserves the best Halloween anyone could possibly provide.” He takes your hand and gently pulls you closer to him. “I know this won't make up for what I've done... But I shall follow you everywhere and do everything in my power to ensure your happiness on this very special day.” He smiles widely.
“What a lovely nightmare that would be.” Leona appears walking towards you with a sarcastic smile on his face. “You would be doing everyone a greater service if you kept an eye on that furball and made sure he didn't eat all the candy instead.” He points to Grim at a table surrounded by sweets, already eating many of them. “Babysit him tonight and give (Y/N) a break. That should be a valuable enough act of apology.”
“Oh dear!” Skully exclaims. “I must hurry and stop him! (Y/N), would you like to follow Leona's suggestion? Would I truly be helping you rest by watching over Grim for you?”
You think about it and you can't deny that it would actually be one less thing to worry about. So you agree and Skully leaves you with Leona, but not before giving you one last kiss on the hand.
“You really get flustered just by that?” Leona questions you, his smirk now replaced by his usual grumpy expression.
“What's your problem with him?” You ask. “He's just being a gentleman.”
“You think Skully’s a gentleman? You must be mistakin’ that for bein’ undisciplined. He just plants a kiss on the back of our hands without askin’… He’s nowhere near proper.”
“What do you think he should do instead? Offer me his arm and escort me through town?”
Leona is silent for a second before looking at you with a smug grin.
“Oh, were you jealous of Miss Sally? How cute.”
You cross your arms and look away.
“Do you want me to escort you through town?” He continues. “Well, too bad you've already seen it all.”
Annoyed, you say you're going to join Skully and Grim. Perhaps also saying that, even so, he is a more pleasant companion than Leona.
You turn to walk away but Leona gently holds your hand, which surprises you, and you turn around to see him lifting your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it in a somewhat sensual, yet respectful way.
“What? I thought you liked havin’ your hand kissed out of nowhere.”
After a moment of stunned silence, you start talking again.
“Are you only doing this to compete with Skully?” You ask. “Like a way to prove that whatever he can do, you can do better?”
“As if I need proof of that.” He crosses his arms and continues smiling. “You always forget, but I'm still a prince, and I was raised as one. That badger doesn't know a tenth of what I already knew at half his age about... let's call it gentlemanly. I just don't like practicin’ it on a daily basis. It's exhausting.”
“I believe that.” You say. “Now I just wonder if when you are truly a gentleman it's out of genuine respect or because you're somehow being forced to be so.”
“Who knows.” He shrugs. “Maybe I just want to sweeten my prey.” He turns to walk away, but not before throwing you a candy he had kept in his jacket.
A heart-shaped candy? How the heck did he get one?
Azul might be able to let the discomfort of having his hand kissed out of nowhere by Skully slide, but seeing him do the same to you is something he cannot ignore.
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
If you say "You do this with everyone, huh." Azul will feel less worried. He'll even have less trouble smiling knowing that you're smart enough to see through people's "kindness."
If you say "What a gentleman.” Azul’s jealousy will increase so much that he won't even realize it if you're just saying that to mess with him.
He'll approach the two of you and try, in the most subtle way possible, to position himself between Skully and you with that attentive, albeit fake, smile of his.
“Indeed. Your indulgence is an enviable trait. It only makes me feel even more guilty and ashamed of our lack of manners.” Azul says as he slides closer to Skully, making him move away from you. “As much as I would like to continue converse with you to make better amends, I fear we have more important matters to concern ourselves with at the moment. Namely, where are we?”
“What a real shame.” Jade says with his sharp-toothed grin. “It would have been such a pleasant exchange of thoughts. Especially if we had included (Y/N) in the conversation.”
Azul glances at him sideways with a smile that's unsettling to anyone who knows him. Fortunately for him, Jamil and the others followed his line of thinking and shifted their focus to where you all were and what might be happening.
Whenever you ended up in a group with Skully, Azul would get annoyed about it, but he'd hide it as much as possible. Something similar happened when you went looking for Jack. For some reason Azul had a bad feeling, but that was all, so he didn't say anything. And then, some time after, Jamil and the mayor returned after checking on you to see why you were taking so long to get back from Jack's house. Jamil then tells them that Skully kidnapped Jack, you, and Grim.
“HE KIDNAPPED THEM?!” Azul exclaims before clearing his throat and composing himself. “H-how terrible! Poor (Y/N) and Grim have terrible luck, getting dragged into it.”
“I never would have guessed Skully to be capable of taking such drastic measures.” Jade says. “I'm sure you'll contribute greatly to this rescue, Azul.”
“Me?” Azul adjusts his glasses and looks at Jade with a sly smile. “I'm certain you meant 'we', Jade. After all, they are two of our dearest first-years. Are they not?” Azul's smile remained friendly to someone who didn't know him, but to Jade it was a warning, or even a threat.
“But of course. They must be terrified right now. I will do everything I can to rescue them and solve this problem.” He said it with his usual smile.
“I doubt Skully would treat them too horribly...” Azul continues. “But the sooner we find them, the better.”
“Agreed.” Jamil follows. “Let's search for Skully and rescue the three captives.”
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. Azul was the first to reach you.
“(Y/N)!” As soon as Azul sees that you seem fine despite the circumstances, especially seeing Grim enjoying the sweets so much, his usual smile returns. “How are you? I believe that gentleman didn't hurt you, did he?” He emphasizes ironically.
“Well, at least his gentlemanly is honest.” You respond.
“You wound me, (Y/N).” He says it in the same dubious tone he always uses. “You really think my concern is not genuine? We were worried sick.”
“Well yes! You are our dearest friends, of course we were very concerned about your well-being and safety.” Jade says this with a normal smile, until he widens it and it becomes more mocking. “Especially Azul. He almost cracked his voice when he found out you'd been kidnapped. A heartbreaking testimony.”
“That's a clear exaggeration.” Azul replies, smiling at you. “My voice doesn't fail me that easily.”
“Precisely.” Jade points with the same sly smile.
“Instead of chit chatting,” Vil says impatiently. “How about taking (Y/N) and the others out of the bathtub and untying them?”
“Oh, how careless of me. You're absolutely right.” Azul says before glancing sideways at Jade for a second. Then he smiles at you confidently. “If you'll allow me.”
He buries his arms in the candy to hold you and lift you out of the bathtub bridal style. It's easy to forget how strong Azul really is. He puts you down on the ground, while the others deal with Grim and Jack, and unties you with magic. He holds your hand to check your wrist.
“Just as I thought, he didn't treat you badly.” Azul comments. “Skully didn't even tie you up too tightly. I don't know how you didn't escape on your own sooner.” He smirks.
“And take away your joy of rescuing me?” You say with a similar smirk. “That would be so mean of me.”
His smile is warmer and more genuine than any he would let others see. Which makes him a little embarrassed.
“How thoughtful of you indeed. It seems we're even after all.” He finishes by saying, before shifting the focus to the others having difficulty getting Grim out of the bathtub because he wanted to keep eating the candy.
Although discreetly, Azul never left your side again. Not even after returning to the Halloween Town plaza. But that didn't stop Skully from approaching you to apologize in his own way.
“Allow me to express my remorse through actions.” Skully finishes by saying.
He takes your hand and kisses the back of it, but not without feeling Azul's penetrating stare on him. What was most frightening was the fact that it was accompanied by a smile.
Hearing Grim complain that his paws hurt, Skully offered to accompany him wherever he went and would be his new hands and feet. Of course Grim didn't want any of that, he was just hoping Skully would give him more candy or something. However Azul saw an opportunity.
“What a thoughtful suggestion!” He says in a cheerfully approving voice. “That would be a great help, don't you think, Grim? A young man as helpful as Skully as your serva- assistant, would certainly be a very welcome support if I were you. That, and you could give (Y/N) a moment's rest.” He looks at you with that shrewd look. “I'm sure you're exhausted after these past few days too, aren't you, (Y/N)?”
You agree and go along with Azul's plan to get Skully and Grim to go away together.
“Do you really like it when he kisses your hand?” Azul asks as soon as you are away from unwanted ears.
He wasn't smiling, but he didn't seem exactly annoyed either; he was looking at you as if analyzing your response. Flustered or not, you end up admitting that you actually kind of enjoy the gesture. Maybe because no one had ever done that to you before.
“Truly?... So it's more about the gesture than the person doing it?” He adjusts his glasses, with a suspicious look. “Are you sure? Because even after what Skully did to you, you always seemed quite pleased with his company.”
You can't help but look at him with a little smirk. Is he jealous?
“Of course there is a way to prove what you claim.” He says, seeing you more interested in his words and with a certain glimmer of hope in your eyes. But then it's his turn to smile maliciously. “You can give permission to one of this lovely townsfolk to kiss your hand.
You widen your eyes in surprise and with a slightly... unpleasant expression.
“What's wrong?” He looks at you with that triumphant smug smile of his. “Didn't you say it was the gesture that mattered, not the person?” He contemplates your conflicted expression for a moment before continuing. “Or did you expect me to volunteer to do it?”
You get flustered, but try to fight back.
“Okay, maybe the person matters too.” You admit. “And isn't that the part that bothers you?”
“Bothers me?” He says, without losing his confident demeanor. “And why would that bother me? I simply wanted to better understand the effect this kind of gesture has on others.”
“On others or on me? I'm almost certain you didn't ask any of this to all the others whose hands Skully kissed.”
“Well, the others weren't kidnapped by him. Your perspective is much more... interesting.”
Debating with a silver tongue like Azul's is extremely difficult, but perhaps the best way to counter is with the truth. You admit that yes, it also depends on the person, and that despite what Skully did to you, he was always very careful and kind. The more you talk about what you like in Skully, the more annoyed Azul will get.
Suddenly, he takes one of your hands, leans down, and kisses the back of it with a surprising passion that leaves you speechless. He looks up to appreciate the expression on your face before straightening up, without letting go of your hand yet.
“Your praise for Skully suddenly stopped.” He says with a smug grin as he slowly pulls you closer by the hand. “I wonder why.” He lets go of your hand, turns around, and takes a few steps. “We've spent too much time here, don't you think? We should go back to enjoying the party.”
Having his hand kissed out of the blue by someone he just met is unpleasant enough, but Jamil would rather go through that again than see the same thing happen to you. And even worse, if you somehow enjoy it.
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
If you say "You do this with everyone, huh." Jamil will feel more reassured knowing you're not so easily fooled, but still upset that Skully had the audacity.
If you say "What a gentleman.” Jamil will be even more upset, and he'll wonder how you could be so naive as to fall for something like that. But thinking that maybe it's not a matter of naiveté only makes things worse.
“Now that I've sanitized my hands...” He says as he approaches you, but speaking to Skully. “Let's review our situation, shall we?” And discreetly, he uses magic to sanitize your hand, just as he did with his own.
“Skully kidnapped Jack, (Y/N), and Grim?!” Jamil inquiries to know if he understood Zero's barking correctly when he arrived at Jack's house and found no one there.
Both he and the Mayor panicked, but Jamil had more self-control and managed to calm the Mayor down enough to start organizing his thoughts. He had to inform the others first so they could start investigating and devise a plan to rescue you all once they found out where you were.
As expected of him, Jamil managed to control his emotions to such an extent that his concern specifically for you is masked by his natural stress in situations of this kind. He didn't need people like Jade or Azul messing with him in the meantime.
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. Jamil wasn't among them because he was with Sebek and Leona taking care of Skully so that the other group could rescue you safely.
As soon as you and the others met up with Jamil, Sebek, Leona, and an defeated Skully, Jamil promptly approached you.
“Oh, good. Looks like everyone's safely rescued.”
The others commented on how difficult it was to get Grim out of the bathtub because he wanted to eat the rest of the candy. And while Jack was talking to Skuly, Jamil's attention was drawn to you once more.
“From what I understand, Skully managed to tie you up. Can I see your arms?” He asks, offering you his hand so you can place one of yours on top.
You do so, and with his other hand, he pulls up your sleeve to see your forearm. He then does the same with the other, examining it carefully.
“The marks are very subtle.” He says, while adjusting your sleeves for you. “Just as I thought, he wasn't harsh with you. They'll disappear in no time.” He gives you a gentle smile. “How are you feeling? You didn't eat too many candy, did you? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
You can't help but smile, and probably chuckle.
“What is it? What's so funny?” He says with that annoyed face that with time you started to find cute. “We were worried about you.”
“Yes, I can see it.” You say.
He gets a little embarrassed, realizing his insistence, and begins to blush to the point of trying to hide his face with his hat.
Fortunately for him, it was relatively easy to change the subject to Skully, Jack, and what you guys were going to do next, namely return to Halloween Town and enjoy the party you'd been preparing for so long.
All the way back, Jamil never left your side again. You could also tell that he was always trying to position himself between you and Skully, no matter if he was 5 meters away from you.
And everything got much stranger after you arrived at the plaza, whenever you wanted to eat something, Jamil would try to convince you to let him taste it first.
“Jamil, I'm not Kalim.” You tell him. “We're the ones who made these candy, they're not poisoned or anything.”
“Believe me, I've seen poisoned food that was better protected than this candy.” He says, determined not to change his current stance.
Meanwhile, Skully approaches you two, and Jamil's reflex is to position himself between you two, glaring at Skully.
“Oh, I'm deeply sorry to bother you.” Skully says with great regret. “Well, it seems this is yet another action of mine on the list of ill-mannered deeds I must apologize for."
“Another?” Jamil maintains the same distrustful attitude. “Does that mean you came to apologize for kidnapping (Y/N) again?”
“But of course!” Skully replies, raising both hands to his chest. “(Y/N) is such a kindly personage. Even after all my most impolite behaviors, they always remained so understanding and empathetic. The least I can do is apologize as many times as humanly possible.” He then looks at you, partially behind Jamil. “Please (Y/N), allow me to express my remorse through actions.”
“Oh no, you won't.” Jamil answers bluntly.
“Jamil!” You say, disbelieving of his attitude.
“Okay, just say that you forgive him.” Jamil turns around and tells you. He was acting so much like he acts with Kalim, telling you what to do.
“I decide what I do.” You say determinedly, and move from behind Jamil to in front of Skully. “Very well, how do you want to express your remorse?”
“Ah, just as I said, such a kindly personage.” Skully says, takes your hand and kisses it. “Oh, but I don't see your companion here. I'd like to apologize to him as well.”
You tell him that Grim was probably around the food tables, and Skully asks your permission to step aside and go look for him with one last kiss on your hand. You turn around and see Jamil with his arms crossed, staring at you sullenly.
“See? Nothing bad happened. He just kissed my hand again.”
“Yes, and twice this time. Please give me your hand.”
“Are you going to cleanse it again with magic?”
“Sanitize it, more specifically.” He extends his hand, more insistently.
You sigh and give him your hand so he can do that.
“You're exaggerating.” You say. “I'm fine. And everything is fine now. There's no need for you to act like you're my bodyguard or something. Again, I'm not Kalim.”
“You were kidnapped once, and there's no guarantee it won't happen again.” He then looks at you with a smug smile. “Besides, it's not like you aren't enjoying this. Is it?”
You get flustered being caught.
“Look who's talking, the person who no longer wants to be apart from me.” You manage to reply.
“Indeed... Maybe you’re right.” He whispers, still holding your hand, and places a delicate but loving kiss on the back of it. “Perhaps I no longer have the moral authority to comment on that aspect.” He concludes by saying, looking back into your eyes to appreciate your reaction.
First, Skully had the audacity to kiss Vil Schoenheit's hand without his permission! And now he's kissing yours?!
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
Even if you say "You do this with everyone, huh." Vil won't be reassured at all, especially because he noticed your little smile.
But if you say "What a gentleman.” Vil is going to feel indignant. How can you be satisfied with such behavior? How can you be pleased by such a selfish gesture? To kiss your hand as if he had the right to!
However, he won't comment on that at all. His focus is on what's happening and how you can get back to Twisted Wonderland.
“Did you hear the loudspeaker just now?” Vil asks Epel.
“Yes, sir... This is turning into a real mess.”
They had just heard the announcement that Jack, you, and Grim had been kidnapped by Skully and that your whereabouts were unknown, so they needed everyone's help to rescue you.
“Then let's find Skully and make him realize exactly whose bad side he's gotten himself on.” Vil tells Sebek and Epel. “I believe it's just the four of us here. We'll have to look for Skully ourselves.”
Despite Idia's attempts to hide, he couldn't fool Vil or Sebek and was dragged along with them.
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. Vil was among them and was the quickest to approach you.
“(Y/N), how could this have happened?!” Vil says, but just when you thought he was being considerate, he quickly frowns and looks at you disappointed, arms crossed. “How could you have let that freshman capture you? That's it! No more deliberation! As soon as we get back to Night Raven College, I'll give you intensive self-defense lessons. Understood? And don't you dare try to make up an excuse. Just because you can't use magic doesn't mean you have to be helpless.”
If you look at Epel while Vil is lecturing you, you'll see him looking at you with pity, like a brother who knows what it's like to be in your position. When Vil finishes scolding you, he sighs.
“Let's get you out of this sugar bath.” He plunges his arms into the sweets and easily lifts you out of the bathtub, holding you bridal-style. He then sits you down on the nearest rock. "Did you eat any of those candy?" He asks disapprovingly as he unties you with magic. "How many did you eat?" And he examines your wrists to see if they had any marks from the ropes.
Depending on your response regarding the candy, you'll hear some more words from him about how too many sweets are bad for your health. But beyond that, you can see that he doesn't seem to want to distance himself from you.
Not even after returning to Halloween Town Plaza.
You didn't notice anything particularly strange apart from his sudden closeness. It was common for Vil to pay attention to your posture and what you ate (especially regarding sweets and whatever strange things the people in that town ate).
But then, Skully approached you and Vil's gaze did not spare him. However, he didn't say anything while Skully was apologizing to you.
“Allow me to express my remorse through actions.” Skully says, takes your hand and kisses it.
Then, he extends his apology to Grim and tries to kiss his paw.
“I, personally, don't know if I would consider those apologies sufficient.” Vil tells you, while Grim tries to dodge Skully. “But considering the way he ask for forgiveness, I would be content with this if I were you. Even though, unlike you, I wouldn't allow just anyone to kiss my hand without permission to begin with.”
“And yet he still did it.” You say.
“He is fortunate that in circumstances such as the present I can be more... forgiving.” Vil says this last word with a somewhat sinister smile. And then, he seems to have an idea. “Skully. Would you mind looking after Grim while (Y/N) and I go check the decorations? I heard there are some children playing with fire and I'd like to make sure nothing's been destroyed... yet...”
“Mrah?! And why do you have to take my hench-human with you?!” Grim inquired.
“Because that way Skully can compensate you both.” Vil explains casually. “He becomes your hench-human for a day and (Y/N) has some time to themselves.”
Grim opens his mouth to protest, but Vil gives him that menacing look of someone who will do whatever it takes to get things his way. So Grim swallows hard and ends up accepting the idea. And so did Skully, but without the swallowing part and much happier than Grim.
“We're not going to check any decorations, are we?” You ask, as if you already know the answer.
Vil simply gives you a smirk that confirms your suspicions.
“Vil... May I ask why you are... acting this way?”
“And may I ask you to elaborate on that question?”
“Well, you didn't seem too concerned about me or Skully before.”
“Exactly, before. Before he kidnapped you. I was already a little concerned that you didn't seem too bothered by his hand kisses, but I didn't think it would come to this, so I didn't express any displeasure or try to interfere in your conviviality. Although I would prefer to simply start teaching you self-defense techniques right away, now is not the time for that. This can wait until these celebrations are over and we return to Twisted Wonderland. Until then, I'll keep an eye on you and Skully. Which is not a bad way to pass the time. I quite enjoy your company.”
“Are you sure that's all there is to it?” You ask.
“Are you trying to insinuate something... dear?” He asks you with a smug smile. Seeing that you are hesitant to answer, he continues. “Perhaps that I feel some kind of jealousy?”
You look at him in a way that kind of confirms that.
“Please, I thought you knew me better than that.” He crosses his arms with a disappointed look. “Unless...” He smirks. “Is it really just something you'd like to witness?”
You look away and he laughs at your display of having been caught.
“I don't need to be jealous of anyone. Ultimately, anyone you liked more than me would either be because I wasn't your type or because you prefer to settle for less.” He takes your hand, leans in, and kisses the back of it. “But I don't believe in either option.” He finishes by saying, while looking at you, proudly beautiful.
First, Idia was dragged into that honking gaggle of extroverts, but at least you were there. He knew you could be his support when he needed it. But then there was this new guy, Skully, who apparently had a habit of greeting people with a kiss on their hand.
It was already a shock when he did that to Idia, but when Idia saw Skully do the same to you, the little voice in his head started spouting nonsense.
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
If you say "You do this with everyone, huh." Idia will think: “Yeah, that guy probably seduces anyone who crosses his path. He kissed all our hands like someotome game character flirting with all the players. You deserve better than this, someone who saves all the kisses just for you. If you like players, better get a gamer.” He will smile smugly, even though all of this conversation would have only taken place in his head.
If you say "What a gentleman.” This will worry Idia. “WUT?! What you mean, you like that?! Urgh... That silver tongue smiley extrovert thinks he can charm (Y/N) so easily? Slow burn is the best kind of romance, and I've known them much longer than you have! Especially since you literally only met them today... Love at first sight is so, like, brainlessly pathetic.” And he'll probably keep this conversation going in his head until someone speaks to him and he finally snap out of it.
Idia found out that you, Grim, and Jack had been kidnapped by Skully through the Mayor's car loudspeaker. He was in a group with Vil, Epel, and Sebek when this happened.
“HE KIDNAPPED (Y/N)?!” Idia yelled in his head, while the others discussed the matter amongst themselves. “Oh no no no no no! I don't like this! I’m no hero, I’m an otaku! We are spectators or, at best, a secondary character that fans can relate to. I'm the PC guy with the cool hacking tricks, not some knight who's going to save his beloved from the clutches of a kidnapper. Any one of them can... Wait... but if they do... They will be (Y/N)'s brave hero in shining armor! Oh... wait... I don't think that's (Y/N)'s type anyway. At least not from what I've heard them saying about their favorite anime characters. I think the closest thing to their type would be... AH! ENEMIES TO LOVERS! Could it be? Especially if Skully ends up having a whole redemption arc and feels super guilty about what he did to (Y/N) and wants to redeem himself in any way possible...”
“Come on out, human.” Sebek's voice abruptly brought him out of his trance. “Don't bother trying to hide!”
“Eep! H-h-how'd you know I was there? Did my anxiety make my breathing heavy?”
He tries to come up with an excuse for them to leave him behind. Not only out of cowardice, but also because he knows the others would do a better job than him, and he doesn't want to share the blame if the plan goes wrong. But Vil doesn't care and drags him along with them.
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. You almost didn't notice Idia between them because he had fallen so far behind, but it was hard not to see a guy with his hair.
At no point did he get very close to you. It was the others who pulled you out of the bathtub and used magic to untie you, while he stayed a little further away, observing.
It was only after you returned to the Halloween Town plaza, when you were alone with Grim, that he timidly approached you.
“H-hey...” Idia says in his low voice, with his right hand on his left forearm. “So... a-are you okay? Like, as okay as can be?”
You say yes, that you're okay now, and you seem very happy that he showed concern for you, even if it was only now.
“Well, it was to be expected that he wouldn't treat you badly. He liked you instantly. And I don't know who would put someone they don't like in a bathtub full of candy and let them eat whatever they want.” He said, smiling. “Well, unless you can't eat sweets... in that case I think it would be torture.”
You laugh, which makes him feel comfortable enough to laugh with you.
“My deepest apologies for interrupting such a delightful conversation.” Skully says, approaching you. He is there to apologize for everything he did to you and Grim.
You can hear Idia muttering sarcastically under her breath.
“Allow me to express my remorse through actions.” Skully says, takes your hand and kisses it.
He does the same with Grim and offers to keep you company for the rest of the night (or day, it's hard to tell in Halloween town).
“Yeah... And what about nope?” Idia tells Skully with a displeased expression.
This surprised you all. Even Skully had enough time to realize that Idia is the type to avoid talking to people.
“First, we're practically forced to prepare a whole Halloween party for this extroverts fueled town. Then you kidnap their big shot, (Y/N), and Grim. And now you want to monopolize their company after leaving them tied up in a bathtub? I mean, kudos to you on your complete lack of awareness and disregard for other people's feelings, I guess.” He finishes by saying with that sarcastic smile.
“W-What?!” Skully jumps in place and loses his composure, looking even more worried than before.
“Why don't you first ask what (Y/N) wants you to do to redeem yourself? Maybe just leaving them alone would be more than enough?” He still has that creepy smile. “For me, it would be, at least.”
“(Y/N)...” Skully says with some difficulty, as if gathering courage to speak. “I-is it your wish for me to disappear from your sight?”
You say no, that everything is fine, that you've even forgiven him. But, taking advantage of the opportunity, you suggest that Skully could accompany Grim and make sure he doesn't do anything crazy while you take a break from ‘babysitting’ him. This, of course, not in such a blunt way because Grim was listening. Skully thanks you again for your immense kindness and indulgence with another kiss on the hand and accepts your suggestion.
After he and Grim walked away towards the tables laden with food and sweets, you turned to look at Idia, perhaps with a disapproving expression.
“W-what?” He tries to remain assertive despite clearly disliking the way you're looking at him. “I-it's not like I lied. And if you really wanted to spend the rest of the night with that guy, you would have just gone and left me alone.” He puts his right hand on his left forearm and looks sullenly at the ground.
“Well, I chose to stay with you. Now you have to make sure my time with you is better than the time I would spend with Skully.” You smirk.
His eyes widen, startled.
“Wow wow wow wow! When did I ever make a deal like that? You stayed and sent him away because you wanted to. I didn't promise any quality time.”
“So in that case, maybe I should go join them.” You turn around.
“WAIT, wait, wait! Talk about changing your mind at the speed of light.” As soon as you turn back to him, his courage goes back into hiding. “Ah... H-h-hey, listen, I'm here alone, okay? Ortho isn't here and... hum...” He gets a little embarrassed. “Y-you're the only other person I feel... comfortable with.”
“I thought you got along well with Azul and Jamil.”
“That doesn't mean I enjoy being with them. There are three categories of people we introverts can classify someone as... well, technically I have more, but to make it easier I'll summarize it into three main ones. There are the people I avoid at all costs, mainly extroverted party animals, but not only. This category has the highest percentage of people I've met, unfortunately. Then there are the people I can ‘get along with’.” He makes quotation marks with his fingers. “Like, for example, the ones you mentioned. It's quite bearable, but I still prefer the safety of my room. Like, they don't make me want to panic quit from the chat. And finally, the people I... we... um... enjoy being around. Like... a pleasant party member... you know.”
“Funny, you elaborated much more on the first two categories.” You notice and he gets more embarrassed.
“Y-you know very well what I'm talking about.”
“Sooo... you're saying you enjoy being with me?”
He blushes and the tips of his hair turn slightly pink. He stammered a little, flustered, before sighing and letting his shoulders slump in a gesture of defeat.
“Fine... I might enjoy your company. Happy now?”
“Might?” You ask.
He looks away with a cute sulky face.
“Hum... I don't know...” You had an idea to mess with him a little more. “You know, I think Skully likes me more than you do.” You smile mischievously, to make sure he realizes you're not being serious. “After all, he's such a gentleman kissing my hand.” You extend your hand to him, playfully.
You thought he would just sigh or get embarrassed, but to your surprise he actually took your hand and kissed it with a quick, scorching kiss.
“Whee hee hee. See who's flustered now.”
Malleus is not the type to see Skully kissing your hand as anything more than a gesture of politeness. So, despite his surprise at having someone he had just met greet you all in that way, he had no other reaction.
“Likewise, (Y/N) and Grim, it's a delight.” Skully says before kissing Grim's paw and then the back of your hand.
If you say "You do this with everyone, huh." Malleus will probably just agree with you in his thoughts.
But if you say "What a gentleman.” Malleus will notice your small smile and start to wonder if you really enjoy having your hand kissed that much. And if so, perhaps he should start doing the same to you?
Thunder began to rumble and lightning to strike when Malleus found out that Skully had kidnapped Jack, Grim, and, most importantly, you.
“Pipe it down, will ya?” Leona complains. “The most your thunder will do is burst everyone's eardrums.”
“I often wonder if you are truly intelligent enough to know when it is not appropriate to provoke me, Kingscholar.”
“And I wonder if you're smart enough to know when I'm not doing it.” He stares at Malleus annoyed, but not angry. “The more of a spectacle you make, the harder it’ll be for anyone to find out where that badger took them.” He sighs. “Guess I'll have to find him and get his mess sorted myself.”
“Where are you going, Kingscholar?” Malleus asks as he sees Leona starting to walk away from him. “Do you intend to handle this matter alone?”
“Figured that much was obvious. I'm under no obligation to team up with you just 'cuz you happened to be nearby. Especially with the tantrum you're throwing.”
“Tantrum?” He smiles, but the thunder rumbles once more. “Must I remind you that the child of man's whereabouts are also unknown? We cannot risk the worst coming to pass. In the interest of as swift a resolution as possible, I'd prefer to avoid wasting any time.”
“Even if it means hitting everyone in the city with a lightning bolt?” Leona gives him a wry little smile. “Sure, I see your point.”
They continue the bickering, even bringing Trey into it, but eventually they move on with the investigation together... more or less.
You were tied up with Grim and a sleeping Jack in a bathtub full of candy when a group of familiar faces approached to rescue you. Malleus approached you so quickly that you could swear he had teleported.
“(Y/N)! Are you well?” He asks as he gently lifts you out of the candy-filled bathtub, bridal style.
Malleus doesn't even need to put you down to untie you. With a simple glance, he burns the ropes without the flames affecting you or your clothes in the slightest.
“Are you injured? Were the ropes too tight?”
You say no, that you're fine. Skully was kind and polite to you the whole time despite what he did. While you were saying this he walked away, so focused on you that nothing else happening made him look back. Aka Grim fighting the others because he didn't want to get out of the candy bath.
You'll need to tell him that he can put you down now, and even then he'll ask if you're certain.
Malleus never left your side again. Apart from that, he didn't seem to be acting strangely. Until, back at Halloween Town Plaza, Skully approached you to apologize for what he did. Malleus didn't say anything out of the ordinary, but you could feel his gaze piercing Skully like daggers, and his imposing presence right beside you.
“Allow me to express my remorse through actions.” Skully says, takes your hand and kisses it. But the moment his lips touched your skin, a thunder sounded.
You take the initiative to make up an excuse for Skully to distance himself from you again, and then suggest that he could go with Grim to the food tables. Grim protests, but you remind him that he was complaining that his paws hurt and he wanted someone (you, but that part doesn't matter now) to carry him around. Skully is thrilled by the idea of redeeming himself in this way, and eventually Grim reluctantly gives in.
The brief storm dissipates as Skully walks away with Grim.
“Tsunotarou...” You say.
“Yes?” He asks, too casually.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I think everything is fine. Why? Is something bothering you?”
“The thunder. Just now.” You point it out, as if trying to give clues to him to explain.
“Oh. Did that startle you?” He smirks. “My apologies. But shouldn't you be prepared for some frights during this day?”
You cross your arms, look at him, and Malleus makes that cute sulky face.
“It does not please me seeing him kissing your hand. Especially after what he did to you. Even if it is a sign of genuine remorse. But I did not speak of the matter, did I?”
“You didn't need to. Your storm spoke for you.” You say. “But he also kisses your hand.”
“That does not bother me.”
“But when he kisses mine, it does?”
“Yes, it does. Did I not make myself clear on the subject?” He calmly admits it, oblivious to what it actually means. “Why are you chuckling?”
You say it's nothing, and that he doesn't need to worry anymore. Especially if he stays by your side. You even admit that you like having him close to you and seeing him so concerned about you.
“I'm glad to know that my closeness is as pleasant for you as yours is for me.” Malleus says with a gentle smile, politely takes your hand, leans down and kisses the back of it. “I will not leave you unprotected again, (Y/N).”
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
— Overblot gang : x gn!reader : slight suggestive content : established relationship : dividers: uzmacchiato.
Context: you forgetting to kiss/say goodbye to them
note: surprise!! Didn't see this coming, huh!? I'm terribly sorry I've been offline for months now, ya girl has been busy with work and her apartment. But nonetheless, thanks for the likes and follows. I appreciate them very much. I'll try to post more whenever I can, but here's the long-awaited post with the newly added taglist!!
Riddle Rosehearts ༉⋆｡˚
He doesn’t say anything at first. He stands straight by the door, hands folded neatly, already rehearsing the polite goodbye. You rush past with a distracted smile, call out a quick “See you later!” and you’re gone.
No kiss, no "I love you", nothing. He replays the moment over and over. Did he say it too quietly that you didnt hear him? Was his tone improper? His chest tightens, and he hates that it does. This is childish. He’s being unreasonable. People forget things.
He spends the rest of the day correcting others more sharply than usual, tapping his pen against his desk until Trey asks if he’s feeling unwell.
By the time you return, he greets you politely. Too politely. When you finally pull him into a hug and laugh—“I was joking! Of course I love you,”—his composure shatters in an instant. His voice wobbles when he scolds you, face burning red, fingers gripping your sleeve like he’s afraid you’ll vanish again. “Don’t do that again,” he mutters, turning his gaze away, face burning. “It threw off my whole morning…”
Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚
He notices. Of course he does. You were leaving for class, half-asleep, bag slung over one shoulder. He sprawled on the bed, a lazy grin on his face, expecting his usual goodbye kiss — the quick brush of lips that made mornings bearable. But you left before he could even lift a hand. You were gone, and the grin fades. He sighs, flopping back onto the pillow. “Tch,”
He tells himself he doesn’t care. You’re probably distracted. Happens all the time. Not a big deal. Definitely not worth getting worked up over.
Still, he doesn’t fall asleep. Instead, he stares at the wall, jaw tight, irritation simmering just under the surface. By the time you came back, he stayed exactly where you left him—leaning over him, about pressing a kiss to his lips like always, when he suddenly grabs your wrist. “You forgot something this morning,” he murmurs. You can't help but smile, kissing him. “You thought I forgot?” He clicks his tongue, pulls you down by the wrist, and rests against you. “Don’t make me wait next time.”
Azul Ashengrotto ༉⋆｡˚
It’s a tiny thing, but to him, that "tiny thing" meant everything. You always kissed him on the cheek before heading out, always murmured "I love you" before leaving. But today? Nothing. “Did they just… forget?” He thought, trying to convince himself he’s being ridiculous. He adjusts his glasses, smooths his sleeves, and goes back to whatever he was doing—except he doesn’t actually read a single word. His pen pauses mid-sentence. His foot starts tapping. A minute passes. Then another.
The anxiety creeps in quietly. Did he say something wrong earlier? Was he too clingy? Not attentive enough? His mind starts running numbers, replaying conversations, searching for a clause he missed.
By the time you’re gone for five minutes, Azul is spiraling. He paces. He checks his phone. He drafts a message, deletes it, and drafts another. He doesn’t want to sound needy—but what if you’re upset? What if you didn’t say it back because you didn’t feel it?
When you finally return, he tries to act indifferent, but his eyes dart to you instantly. “Ah—welcome back,” he says, pretending to be busy with his papers. “I trust your errands went well?” And when you notice the slight pout on his lips and press a kiss to his cheek, whispering “I love you,” he stiffens—then exhales, tension melting into a shaky laugh.
Jamil Viper ༉⋆｡˚
He notices, but he doesn’t react—at least not outwardly. You wave to him, distracted by your bag, your phone, and your rushing. As you toss a quick “Bye!” over your shoulder, you vanish. The silence that follows is deafening. Jamil stares at the doorway, his expression unreadable. Yet, his mind keeps replaying the moment: you didn’t say it back. Normally, you never forget those words, which are the highlight of his day.
He shakes his head, telling himself not to take it personally. You’re probably just busy or running late. Still, the absence of that tiny ritual chews at him all day, a quiet ache in his chest.
All day, he’s quieter than usual. He knows it’s foolish — you clearly didn’t mean it — but something about the missing words leaves a faint ache in his chest.
The next time he sees you, he doesn’t immediately bring it up. Instead, he watches you — the way you light up when you see him, the way you reach for his hand. It takes only a few seconds for the tension in his chest to ease. “You seem distracted lately,” he says, guiding you to sit beside him. When you finally admit it was a prank, he exhales, slow and shaky, as if he’s been holding his breath for far too long. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your lips. “Don’t mess with me like that.”
Vil Schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚
Oh, he notices immediately—and he hates it. He’d leaned in for his usual goodbye kiss before your classes, lips faintly glossed. You’d smiled, said you’d be late, and hurried off without even glancing back. His lips remain parted for a second too long. The tiniest frown touches his face.
For the next hour, he remains restrained, polite, and maintains perfect posture. His makeup is flawless, and his voice is smooth. However, the compliments dry up. When someone asks if he is distracted, he replies, "I’m fine." (He is not fine.)
When you return as if nothing happened, he examines your face with a sharp, assessing gaze. “Oh?” he says coolly. “Back already?” You blink and reply, “Yeah, I forgot something.”
He continues to study your face. “You did,” he agrees. “Several things, apparently.” When you finally grin and confess that it was all a prank, he exhales, half-annoyed and half-relieved, and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “...Don’t do that again,” he murmurs. “I love you. now say it back, properly.”
Idia Shroud ༉⋆｡˚
He’s frozen in place when it happens. Usually, you say “I love you” right before heading out — sometimes even blowing him a little kiss from the doorway of his room. But today, you just waved and said, “See you later!” He waves back weakly, the faint blue glow of his hair dimming.
As soon as the door closes, silence fills the room. The monitors hum quietly, and the lights from his PC screens reflect off his wide eyes. His brain short-circuits for a few seconds and then immediately begins to spiral.
They didn’t say it. They always say it. Did they forget? No, maybe they didn’t forget — maybe they didn’t mean to say it. Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong? Oh no, oh no, what if I—
He buries his face in his hands, muffled groans echoing through the room. His hair flickers between anxious shades of blue and pink. He texts you immediately—then panics and deletes it. Then sends a different one. Then immediately regrets that.
By the time you come back, Idia is half-curled into himself, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, eyes darting up the second he hears you. “…Hey,” he says cautiously. “Um. Earlier. Did I—was everything okay?”
When you reveal the prank, there’s a long silence. “…That’s messed up.” When you kiss him and say it, he exhales shakily. He slumps forward and hides his face in your shoulder, voice muffled. “Please don’t do that. My brain can’t handle it.”
Malleus Draconia ༉⋆｡˚
He doesn’t understand at first. You always tell him “I love you” before you part. It’s a ritual he treasures, one he always looks forward to. So when you rush off one morning with only a wave and no kiss or words, his chest tightens with a strange, unfamiliar ache.
He stands there, watching you disappear, confusion slowly turning to melancholy. “Did I do something to displease them?” he murmurs. The day feels colder. The birds are quieter. He waits, patient as ever, but the silence gnaws at him more than he expects.
When you return, he greets you gently—but there’s a gravity to him that wasn’t there before. “Did something trouble you earlier?” he asks softly. “You departed… differently. When you finally admit it was a prank, his expression shifts—surprise first, then relief, then something deeper. “…I see.” There’s a pause, and then a small, embarrassed smile curves his lips.
“My heart is not accustomed to such games,” he admits quietly. “When you left, I felt as though something vital was missing.” He draws you into his arms, with his forehead resting against yours. After a moment, he leans down and kisses your lips softly, slowly, and lingeringly. “I beg… do not make me doubt your affection again.”
Other parts: Vice-housewardens + Ruggie ; First Years (-Ortho)
Riddle Rosehearts
After the breakup, Riddle acted like he'd read somewhere that repressing emotion was a perfectly valid coping mechanism. Which, to be fair, he probably had. And so he embarked on what could only be described as a grief management routine so structured and detail-oriented that you almost had to respect it.
First came the part where he behaved like nothing had happened.
He went about his day with all the usual pomp—collaring students, citing arcane dorm rules, and drinking his tea as usual.
If anyone brought you up (on purpose or by accident), he would simply blink, nod, and go back to arranging sugar cubes in a perfect geometric formation. "We are no longer together," he would say, as if it were an administrative change and not, say, a soul-crushing emotional catastrophe.
Then came the coincidences.
He began showing up in places he absolutely did not frequent before. The café you liked? Suddenly, he was a regular. The library on Thursday evenings? There. The very hallway outside your class despite Heartslabyul being on the opposite side of campus? Oh yes. There too. And every time you spotted him lurking (because that was the only word for it), he would give a startled little blink, like you were the surprise.
"Oh. I didn't see you there," he said, the fourth time in a week.
You stared at him from behind your drink. "I've been sitting here for thirty minutes."
"Well," he muttered, "public seating is for everyone."
By week two, he began inventing reasons to talk to you. Weird ones.
He approached you one day, armed with a rulebook and what looked like three sticky notes marking battle locations.
"According to Queen of Hearts rule 42," he said, clearly having practiced this in front of a mirror, "ex-partners must return borrowed items within twelve days."
You blinked. "You lent me a pencil."
"It was part of a set," he snapped, scandalized.
You told him you'll give it back and he looked like someone slapped him.
You thought that might be the end of it. But then, course, it escalated.
He showed up at your door one evening with a paper in his hand. A list. A physical list. Titled, in absolutely unnecessary cursive, "A Non-Exhaustive Record of My Missteps."
"It's not meant to change anything," he said stiffly, not quite looking at you. "Only to… acknowledge."
There were bullet points. Short, awkward, and occasionally baffling.
Should not have critiqued your sock choice in front of your friends.
I apologize for saying 'emotional outbursts are not strategic.' That was, in hindsight, a poor choice of words.
You are allowed to eat dessert before dinner. Even if it is cherry pie.
I realize now that asking if we could schedule arguments during free periods was not romantic.
I should have asked you to stay.
You didn't know what to do with it—him. He was so Riddle about everything. Polite. Procedural. Very slightly insane. But under all the awkward attempts at regulation and paperwork, it was clear he missed you. Badly.
And the truth was, you still hadn't returned the matching pencil.
You kept it. Not because you believed in fate or romance or even well-meaning tyrants who quoted rulebooks like love poems—but because part of you thought, maybe, if he was willing to be just a little more flexible, there might be a version of this that could work.
And you hoped it could.
Leona Kingscholar
After the breakup, Leona made it his personal mission to convince the entire world—Ruggie, his dorm, the mirror in his room, the literal wildlife outside—that he did not care.
He went around saying things like, "Tch. Good riddance," and "Like I got time to babysit someone who cries over movies," even though no one had brought you up. He slept more. Talked less. Got moodier, which no one thought was possible until he started growling at actual potted plants for existing near his nap spots.
Whenever Ruggie so much as hinted at your name—usually while dancing around some scheduling conflict or trying to explain why Leona's mood had tanked again—he'd get cut off mid-word.
"I wasn't even talking about them!" Ruggie would complain.
"Then stop thinking about them so loud," Leona snapped, face buried in the crook of his arm like the concept of you physically hurt his eyes.
But of course, the moment your name stopped being brought up, that became a problem too.
He started acting restless. Less asleep all the time and more awake and clearly trying to look like he's not looking around for someone. He'd frown when someone laughed in the hallway, then look annoyed when it wasn't you. He started showing up to classes he normally skipped, sitting in the back with his legs stretched out and arms crossed like he was doing the entire school a favor just by existing in the room.
And then the things started appearing.
First, it was his jacket—left casually across the back of your desk chair, like maybe gravity had just pulled it there on accident. Then his spellbook, shoved between your textbooks in a way that definitely required premeditated effort. Then a sandwich. An entire sandwich, wrapped up and labeled "Not Yours."
He denied all of it, obviously.
"Must've been Ruggie," he said, regarding the jacket that literally smelled like him.
When confronted about the book: "I don't even read, what're you talking about."
As for the sandwich? "You're imagining things. I didn't make that for you."
By that point, no one believed him—not even himself.
The final blow came in the form of a confrontation you hadn't expected. Late evening, when you were walking back to your dorm from the library. You were alone, or you thought you were, until you turned the corner and found him there—half in shadow, arms crossed, gaze trained somewhere just over your shoulder.
He didn't say hello.
Didn't say anything actually.
Just let the silence stretch until it started fraying at the edges, and then muttered, voice low and rough:
"You still want this, don't you?"
You stared at him. He didn't flinch, but you could tell he wanted to. He held himself like someone who didn't expect the answer to be yes, but still desperately needed to hear it before he gave up entirely.
And you realized somewhere between the jacket, the sandwich, and the way his voice cracked at the end of the sentence—that for all his snarling and attitude, he never stopped loving you.
He just didn't know how to ask you to stay without sounding like he might actually need you.
Which, of course, he did. Not that he'd ever say it out loud.
Not yet, anyway.
But the next time he leaves something behind, you think you might return it in person. Maybe even stay awhile.
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul handled the breakup the only way he knew how: with spreadsheets, surveillance footage, and a truly unhealthy amount of denial.
He claimed to be fine, of course. Said it with a straight face while color-coding inventory spreadsheets and inputting customer satisfaction data at four in the morning like a man unburdened by heartbreak. But when the tweels found the Lounge security footage paused—again—on a scene of you laughing near the bar, they stopped asking.
He'd memorized the timestamp.
And no, he didn't want to talk about it.
Azul had always been prone to spiraling in a unique way. After the breakup, that tendency mutated into something truly concerning. He didn't cry. He didn't wallow. Instead, he opened a blank document and began calculating. How many hours you'd spent together. How often you laughed in his presence. What the average rate of eye contact was in happy couples versus yours. There were charts. Graphs. Some kind of weighted affection index.
Unfortunately, Jade opened the file looking for the March sales report and instead found a document titled:
"Projected Probability of Them Still Loving Me (v6)."
He would not let him live it down.
"Idea," Floyd said. "You wanna run those numbers again but include the variable where you're super pathetic lately?"
Even Jade raised an eyebrow. "The correlation between desperation and appeal might not be as linear as you'd hope."
Azul tried to brush them off. He even lied (very badly) about what the spreadsheet was for ("Just… tax optimization. Personal hobby. Totally normal."), but the damage was done. The eels were smug. He was mortified. And worst of all, he still couldn't stop thinking about you.
So he pivoted.
If direct emotional vulnerability had failed him, perhaps passive-aggressive marketing would do the trick.
You started receiving coupons. Neatly folded, hand-delivered, no return address—but you recognized the ink. And the handwriting. And the aggressively formal tone that somehow still managed to sound like begging.
"One (1) free drink of your choice at the Mostro Lounge. Offer valid for exes statistically proven to be an optimal match."
Another read:
"Your preferred drink has been discontinued. Kidding. Please come back."
And your personal favorite:
"A reminder that our pairing was 94.3% ideal. Come back. For research."
You didn't respond. He didn't expect you to. But every week, a new coupon showed up—some increasingly ridiculous, some borderline romantic, all of them signed with that same flourish he used when pretending he wasn't panicking.
You weren't sure if it was pathetic or endearing. Probably both. The coupons had piled up in a drawer now, next to a coaster you never returned and a little napkin with a sketch he once made of you during a slow night.
You told yourself it was nostalgia. Curiosity. Scientific inquiry, if anything.
And one slow afternoon, you found yourself digging through the drawer, smoothing out the least crumpled coupon, and thinking—just for a moment—that you might stop by.
For research. Obviously.
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim took the breakup as well as someone who had never actually took a negative emotion in his life to heart could. Which was to say: terribly.
He cried. A lot. At first, it was appropriate—private tears, sniffles in the dorm room, a distant gaze over his drink. But then it started happening at other times. Like during an ad for laundry detergent where the happy couple folded towels together. Or during a weather report where the forecast mentioned rain, which, apparently, you once said made you sleepy. Or during absolutely nothing at all, except that the sun was setting "a little too much like that one day you held his hand, remember?"
He insisted he was fine.
"Totally fine!" he chirped, voice three octaves higher than normal, eyes red-rimmed and suspiciously glossy. "Breakups happen all the time, right? We're both growing and learning! It's healthy!"
No one believed him.
Jamil looked like he was considering reporting you to the disciplinary committee just to end Kalim's reign of emotionally unhinged sunshine. Even Grim asked if someone should "turn him off and back on again."
But Kalim doubled down. If he couldn't be fine naturally, he'd brute-force his way into happiness. Which, in his mind, meant: throwing parties. So many parties. For no reason. His calendar suddenly became a horror show of "themed celebration nights" and "spontaneous joy hours," all of which were weirdly tailored around your favorite things.
"Here!" he said brightly, handing out goodie bags. "Everyone gets this specific brand of chocolates and stickers! Because those are just objectively fun! Not because anyone used to love them or anything!"
It was transparent. Alarmingly so.
Even when he gave someone a little clay charm that looked exactly like the one you wore on your bag, Kalim waved it off with a too-wide smile. "Just spreading the joy! It's important to stay positive, right?"
Everyone knew it was a cry for help. The kind that sounded like party poppers and glitter and repressed sobbing in the school gardens.
The turning point came on a quiet afternoon when he showed up at your door holding a tiny cupcake. It had a frosting heart on it. His hands shook slightly.
"I know this is weird," he said, already teary. "I didn't wanna make you uncomfortable. I just—"
He swallowed, voice cracking like something inside him was giving up the act for good.
"Even if you don't love me again," he said, "can we still be something?"
You looked at him—his earnest eyes, his trembling lower lip—and you felt something soft and painfully familiar unfurl in your chest.
Because Kalim didn't know how to lie to the people he loved. Not well. Not really. He was all impulse and heart, the kind of boy who loved too loud and too fast and never quite knew how to stop once he started.
And maybe you weren't ready to be what you were. Not yet.
But looking at him, at the little cupcake with the slightly smudged heart and the the way he was holding it like he might shatter if you didn't take it—
How could you say no?
You took the cupcake. And maybe his hand, too. Just for a moment. Just to see if something could still bloom.
Vil Schoenheit
Vil did not mourn the breakup. Mourning was for people who couldn't maintain composure under pressure. For people who let emotion smudge their mascara. He was not one of those people.
At least, not publicly.
He was flawless. Unbothered. The exact picture of someone thriving post-relationship, thank you very much. His interviews were polished. His smiles were poised. His posture was impeccable. If anyone noticed that his usual acerbic wit had gone curiously blunt, no one said anything.
They wouldn't dare.
Privately, though, when the cameras were off and the spotlight blinked out, Vil cracked in very small ways.
He started using your favorite perfume. A subtle layer, never enough to be obvious, but just enough to make him feel like you were still somewhere in the room. Like maybe if he breathed in deep enough, he could hold onto something.
He flipped through magazines during lunch breaks, claiming it was for "market research." But every time he lingered on a movie review or a lifestyle spread, it was with the faint, ridiculous hope that you'd read it too. That your fingers might have touched the same paper. That your eyes caught the same line he was rereading for the fifth time.
He knew it was foolish. But Vil had always been prone to beautiful illusions. It was sort of his thing.
The unraveling came, ironically, in the most public of places: a toothpaste commercial.
He was halfway through filming, mid-speech about the importance of a radiant smile, when something in the script triggered a memory—something you once said about how his laugh.
He kept talking.
Kept improvising.
Went off-script entirely.
The crew let him go for a minute—Vil was known for his "emotional depth," after all—but when he hit the line "even the most polished smile can still ache when it remembers someone who made it feel real," the director had to call cut.
"Vil," they said gently. "It's a toothpaste commercial."
He didn't speak for the rest of the shoot. Just touched up his own makeup in silence, eyes a little glassy.
It took him another week to knock on your door.
He showed up in a soft sweater, smelling faintly of something familiar, holding his own hands like he didn't know what else to do with them.
He didn't ask for much. Didn't ask for forever. Just quietly, cautiously:
"Would you like to try again?"
And you thought—looking at him, at the person who once swore he'd never show up like this for anyone, at the vulnerability hiding under all that polish—
Maybe this time, you could make it work.
Idia Shroud
Idia handled the breakup the way he handled most things in life: with a complete and total digital meltdown, buried under forty layers of denial and an emotionally scorched Discord server.
He didn't text. Didn't call. Didn't even leave passive-aggressive emoji reactions on your old posts like a normal ex with unresolved feelings. He simply… disappeared.
Vanished like a ghost into his room, into his code, into the vast and uncaring expanse of the internet, where feelings didn't exist unless they were typed in all caps or conveyed through a crying anime girl gif.
And for a while, it was total radio silence.
Until you logged into that game.
The shared one. The one you used to play together after class, where the two of you ran a little shop in a pixelated fantasy village and spent an embarrassing amount of time farming digital potatoes.
Your shop was still there.
But now there was… a shrine.
Your character's pixel art face, recreated painstakingly in custom tiles and surrounded by in-game flowers, torches, and glowing pink mood crystals that did not exist in the vanilla version of the game.
He'd modded it.
There was a sign in the middle that just said:
"Here Lies Happiness (RIP)"
You stared at it for a long time. Then, just to confirm the ridiculous suspicion building in your chest, you checked the nearby player list.
Sure enough, his username had changed too:
"SadBoy420"
Online. Loitering.
You didn't message him immediately. Mostly because you weren't sure what to say to someone who had quite literally built a shrine to your relationship in a farming sim. But still—you lingered. Logged in more often. Left offerings of rare items near the shrine like it was some strange, silent conversation.
Idia never spoke to you directly, but you noticed the shrine changed a little every day. One day it had a sign that said "I'm Fine." The next, it was replaced with a drawing of your characters fishing together. One morning it was just a massive, pixel-art rendition of the word "SORRY" in bold letters with a sad face emoji.
Outside the game, his silence continued.
But Ortho?
Ortho was not subtle.
"Did you know my brother has been listening to the voicemails you left him on loop for the past 72 hours?" he chirped once in the cafeteria. "Not that he's, like, sad or anything! Just nostalgic. Definitely not crying."
Later: "He made your favorite NPC in our custom server the town mayor! Isn't that cute? I mean, objectively, not emotionally, haha."
Eventually, you got the call.
Your phone lit up with his name and you answered before you could talk yourself out of it.
"Uh—hey," Idia said, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't, like, mean to call. Or—I did, but. Crap. Okay. Hi."
You waited.
He took a breath.
"I was just wondering," he said, "if you maybe wanted to talk again. Or, y'know. Game. No pressure or anything. It's fine if you're, like, over it and I'm just like a pathetic ghost haunting your social life, haha, classic tragic NPC vibes—"
"Yes," you said, before he could spiral into apologizing for existing.
He paused. Long enough that you thought the call had dropped. Then, quietly—hopeful, almost disbelieving:
"Wait. Really?"
You smiled, even if he couldn't see it.
"Yeah," you said. "Log in."
Malleus Draconia
Malleus did not understand how something so radiant could simply… end.
He didn't throw a dramatic tantrum after the breakup. He didn't disappear in a swirl of thunderclouds or curse the moon or anything out of a tragic love story.
He didn't so much as frown in public, because the full gravity of the breakup hadn't quite hit him yet. Instead, it settled in stranger places—quiet things, strange habits.
Like how he started speaking to the plush bat you gave him on his last birthday as though it were you. Not in a creepy way, more like someone who didn't know what to do with the empty space you left behind.
He asked it questions. Told it how his day went. Laughed, sometimes, as if it had told him a joke—low and fond, the kind of laugh only you had ever coaxed out of him. And when he sat beneath the stars, plush cradled carefully in his lap, he whispered to it with a gentleness reserved only for the lost.
The gargoyles? They weren't even sentient, but even they seemed exhausted. Every night he stood in front of them, musing out loud about the way you smiled or how you always called him weird little nicknames. One of them lost a nose—maybe unrelated.
Lilia, bless him, said nothing for a long while. He simply watched as Malleus wilted, quietly and beautifully, like a flower sealed in ice. But one evening, after Malleus asked in the softest voice, "Do humans ever come back when they leave?", Lilia did not answer. He only wrapped his arms around his ward and held him close.
At some point, he started writing letters. Not to send, just… to say things. Things he didn't know how to tell you, or hadn't said enough when he could. Some were serious. Some were barely legible thoughts written in the middle of the night. But he kept them all, folded neatly in a box that lived under his bed.
And then, of course, Silver found the box.
Silver, ever helpful and half-asleep, assumed it was mail Malleus meant to send and delivered the whole thing to your dorm like it was completely normal to get a hand-bound novel of unsent love letters dropped off on a random day.
You read them all.
You didn't say anything at first. You weren't sure what you were supposed to say. But that night, you left your window open—just a little.
And sure enough, just past midnight, Malleus appeared outside your dorm. Just… standing there. Looking up.
He didn't ask to come in. He didn't even call your name. He just waited. Like maybe you'd hear the quiet, and somehow understand.
And when you finally stepped outside, he looked at you like he'd been waiting centuries.
"May I court you again?" he asked softly. "From the beginning."
