Zaunite reader x Heartslabyul
Request by anonymous: Maybe how about a headcanons with Yuu who is born and raised in Zaun? Most importantly how would cast reacts to Zaun's environment once Yuu trusts them enough to tell about it? (Or maybe cast would see for themselves somehow?)
Synopsis: You have always kept your past a secret, but as their relationships deepen, the truth about Zaun slowly unravels. A city of smog, struggle, and survival far from the world of NRC. How will their lover react to the harsh reality You once called home? And more importantly, can they bring comfort to the one who endured it all?
Warnings: â Mentions of poverty, crime, substance abuse (shimmer), survival struggles, and environmental pollution. The setting of Zaun includes themes of danger, societal disparity, and rough living conditions. Reader's past involves hardships, but the story focuses on comfort, understanding, and romance.â
Since you didn't specify her past,I'm just gonna assume that she's an orphan like 99% of the Zaunite cast.
Heartslabyul,Savanaclaw, Octavinelle,Scarabia Pomifiore, Ignihyde, Diasominia
Riddle never imagined life could be anything but orderly. His world had always been one of rules and discipline, of neatly trimmed rose bushes and perfectly arranged tea parties. The idea of chaos, of living without a clear structure to follow, was something he had never truly comprehended,until you.
When you first mentioned Zaun, it was almost in passing, like it was just another place on a map. But as your words lingered, as you spoke of the smog-choked streets, the towering factories that never stopped churning, and the ever-present desperation that filled the air, Riddle realized that Zaun was not just a place. It was a battlefield, a world that had shaped you in ways he couldnât yet understand.
At first, he didnât know how to respond. The thought of you, his beloved, having to fight for survival in a place where lawlessness reigned,it was almost too much to bear. He had spent so much of his life believing that rules were what kept people safe, that strict order was the key to happiness. But your existence, your very survival, was proof that life didnât always work that way. He wanted to understand, to know what it truly meant to have grown up in a place so vastly different from what he knew.
So when the opportunity arose, when he found himself in Zaun with you leading the way, Riddle braced himself for the unknown. Yet, no amount of mental preparation could have truly readied him for what he saw. The moment you stepped into the city, you seemed to melt into the shadows, walking with a confidence that only someone who had lived here could possess. Riddle, however, was rigid beside you, his crimson eyes darting around at the unfamiliar sights. The streets were narrow and winding, the air thick with the scent of chemicals and burning metal. People moved quickly, their faces guarded, their steps calculated. He had never felt so out of place.
You turned back to him, your expression softening at the sight of his furrowed brow. âItâs overwhelming, isnât it?â you murmured, taking his hand. Riddleâs fingers twitched at the contact, his grip tightening as if he feared losing you in the crowd.
âThis⊠this placeâŠâ he struggled to find the words, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. âItâs nothing like I imagined.â He had expected disorder, but this was something else entirely. It was a world that thrived on resilience, where people didnât wait for permission to live.
You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. âI know itâs a lot. But this is home, Riddle. Or at least, it was.â
He swallowed thickly, his heart twisting at the thought. The idea that you had once walked these streets as a child, vulnerable and unprotected, sent a sharp pang through his chest. He had spent so much of his life believing that rules were what made a person strong. But now, seeing you move with unwavering certainty through a world so unforgiving, he realized that strength wasnât always about following rules,it was about surviving in spite of them.
That night, when you finally led him somewhere quieter, somewhere safer, Riddle couldnât stop the thoughts that swirled in his mind. You had spoken of Zaun with such ease, but now that he had seen it, truly seen it, he understood that it had shaped you in ways he had yet to comprehend. He lay beside you, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.
âYouâre thinking too much again,â you whispered, rolling over to face him. Your fingers found their way into his hair, combing through the soft strands in slow, comforting motions. Riddle stiffened at first, but slowly, his body relaxed under your touch.
âI just⊠I donât understand how you do it,â he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. âHow you lived through all of that⊠how you still smile, still love despite everything.â
You gave him a small, knowing smile. âBecause I had to. Because I wanted to. And because, no matter how hard life was, I knew there was something worth fighting for.â
Riddle turned to face you fully, his gaze searching yours for answers he wasnât sure heâd ever find. âI donât want you to carry this alone,â he murmured, his voice filled with unspoken promises. âYou donât have to anymore.â
Your heart ached at the sincerity in his eyes. You had spent so much of your life fending for yourself, believing that no one could truly understand the weight of your past. But here he was, holding you as if you were something fragile yet infinitely precious.
A small smile tugged at your lips. âI know,â you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. âI have you now.â
And for the first time in a long while, the weight of Zaunâs past didnât feel so heavy. Because with Riddle by your side, you finally felt like you had a place to rest. A place where you were safe.
Ace had always known you were different. It wasnât just the way you carried yourself or the way you spoke,it was the way your eyes scanned a room like you were always searching for exits, the way your body tensed at loud noises that others barely noticed. At first, he thought you were just cautious, maybe even a little paranoid. But when you finally told him where you were from, it all started to make sense.
Zaun. A city that sounded more like a warning than a home.
Ace had never really thought about what life was like outside of NRC, let alone outside of his own world. Sure, heâd heard of rough places, but nothing like the way you described Zaun. A city built underground, choking on its own fumes. A place where the weak got eaten alive and even the strong barely scraped by. The way you talked about it was almost casual, like it was just another fact about yourself. But Ace knew better,he saw the way your fingers tightened around your cup, the way your gaze flickered just slightly when you mentioned certain things.
At first, he tried to joke about it. âSo, what, you were some kind of badass street punk or something?â He grinned, nudging your side. But when you didnât immediately laugh, when you just gave him a small, tired smile, the weight of your words hit him in a way he wasnât prepared for.
ââŠWait, seriously?â His grin faltered. âYou actually had to fight to survive?â
You leaned back, exhaling softly. âItâs not like I had a choice, Ace.â
That shut him up real quick.
For once, he didnât have a witty remark. Didnât have some teasing comment to throw at you. Because, damn. Youâd really lived through all that? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
Ace didnât like thinking about things too deeply,he was more of a âgo with the flowâ kind of guy. But now, the more he looked at you, the more he realized just how much he didnât know about you. Sure, he knew the now,the way you laughed at his dumb jokes, the way you rolled your eyes when he got too cocky, the way you somehow always managed to keep him in check without actually bossing him around. But the before? That was something he had never even thought to ask about.
And now that he knew⊠well, letâs just say it hit him harder than he expected.
So, when he somehow found himself standing in the middle of Zaun, courtesy of some magic mishap, he quickly realized that he was way out of his depth.
The first thing that hit him was the air,it was thick, heavy with the scent of oil, metal, and something acrid that made his throat burn. The sky above was murky, covered in a haze of smoke and neon lights. People moved fast, their faces set in hard expressions, their eyes scanning him like they were sizing him up. Ace wasnât used to that. At NRC, he was usually the one throwing people off their game, always one step ahead with a smirk on his lips. But here? Here, he felt like fresh meat in a lionâs den.
âOkay. Yeah. This place is definitely sketchy,â he muttered under his breath.
You chuckled beside him. âTold you.â
He turned to you, ready to make some sarcastic remark, but the words died in his throat when he saw the way you stood,calm, confident, completely at ease in a place that made his skin crawl.
Ace had seen you fight before. He knew you could handle yourself. But watching you here, in your element, was something else entirely. You moved like you belonged, like you knew every dark alley and every hidden danger before they even appeared. And maybe you did.
That realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
You had grown up here. Survived here.
Ace had always known you were strong, but now he was starting to understand just how strong.
That night, when you finally found a quiet place to rest, he was still trying to wrap his head around everything. He sat beside you, his usual carefree grin nowhere to be seen. Instead, he just⊠stared at you for a long moment, like he was seeing you for the first time.
âYou good?â you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
He huffed, leaning back on his hands. âI dunno. Kinda feel like an idiot for not asking about this sooner.â
You tilted your head. âWhat do you mean?â
Ace let out a breath, ruffling his hair. âI just⊠I never really thought about where you came from, yâknow? I mean, I knew you had it rough, but actually seeing this place? Itâs a whole different thing.â He glanced at you, his usual playfulness replaced by something quieter. âI guess I just feel kinda stupid for never realizing how much youâve been through.â
Your expression softened. âYou didnât need to know all that to care about me, Ace.â
âYeah, butââ He groaned, flopping back onto the makeshift bed. âUgh, this sucks. Youâre way cooler than me, you know that?â
You blinked before snorting. âIs that really what youâre taking from this?â
He turned his head to look at you, his grin returning, though it was softer this time. âI mean, yeah. Here I was thinking I was the troublemaker, but turns out my partnerâs the real badass.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âYouâre impossible.â
He reached out, tugging you down beside him. You let out a small yelp as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. His usual teasing was still there, but there was something else too something real. His grip was just a little tighter, his touch lingering just a little longer.
âHey,â he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. âFor real, though. I donât care where you came from. I donât care how rough things used to be. Youâre here now. With me. And I donât plan on letting you go anytime soon.â
Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. You had never needed saving,Zaun had made sure of that. But knowing that someone wanted to stand beside you, wanted to stay no matter what⊠that was something else entirely.
You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax in his embrace. âI know.â
Ace smirked. âGood. âCause Iâd hate to go through all this emotional crap just for you to run off.â
You smacked his arm, and he laughed, pulling you closer. The neon lights of Zaun flickered outside, but for once, you didnât feel trapped by them. Because in Aceâs arms, for the first time in a long while, you felt like you had something worth holding onto.
Something worth staying for.
Deuce had always known you were tough. From the way your eyes sharpened in tense situations, it was clear that you had seen things most people hadnât. But when you finally told him where you came from,Zaun everything clicked into place.
He listened intently as you explained what your home was like. The smog-choked streets, the neon signs flickering against metal buildings, the constant hum of machinery filling the air. You spoke about it with a mix of fondness and bitterness, your words laced with memories of struggle.
Deuce didnât know what to say at first. He wasnât good with words, and honestly, he wasnât sure if anything he said would be enough. So he just held your hand, squeezing it tightly.
ââŠIt sounds rough,â he finally murmured, his voice quieter than usual.
You chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. âThatâs one way to put it.â
From that moment on, Deuce started paying more attention. The way you flinched ever so slightly at sudden loud noises, how your shoulders tensed when someone stood too close, how your instincts always seemed one step ahead of everyone elseâs. It made his heart ache.
And then, by some twist of fate, he found himself in Zaun.
The first thing that hit him was the air. It was thick, heavy with the scent of oil and metal, making it hard to breathe. The streets were dimly lit, neon signs casting eerie glows over damp cobblestones. People moved fast, their eyes sharp and guarded, their hands always close to their pockets,ready to defend, ready to run.
His uniform was too clean, his movements too stiff. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he knew it. His fists clenched instinctively, the old delinquent in him screaming at him to be ready for anything.
You stood beside him, completely at ease. You navigated the streets like you belonged,because you did. While Deuce felt overwhelmed, you looked⊠at home.
You had grown up in this. In these streets, in this constant tension, in this world where survival meant being two steps ahead.
Deuce swallowed hard, his heart pounding.
He had always thought of himself as strong. But now, seeing where you had come from, he realized,you were the strong one.
That night, after finally finding a safe place to rest, he couldnât stay quiet anymore. He sat beside you, his usual confident expression replaced with something more uncertain.
ââŠHow did you do it?â he asked suddenly.
You raised an eyebrow. âDo what?â
Deuce exhaled, ruffling his hair. âSurvive here. Grow up here.â He turned to face you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldnât quite place. âThis place⊠itâs dangerous. Itâs harsh. But youââ His jaw tightened. âYou made it through all of this. How?â
You stared at him for a moment before giving a small shrug. âI had to.â
Deuce frowned. âThatâs not an answer.â
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. âI fought. I stole when I had to. I ran when I couldnât win. I learned to pick my battles.â You paused, glancing at him. âSame way you did, right?â
Deuce hadnât grown up in a place like Zaun, but he knew what it was like to fight. To struggle. To feel like the world was stacked against him.
ââŠYeah,â he admitted.
You smiled slightly. âThen you get it.â
Deuce was quiet for a long moment before he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady,comforting.
âI donât want you to go through that again,â he said softly.
You blinked. âDeuceââ
âI mean it.â He looked at you, his expression serious. âI know you donât need me to protect you. Youâre strong. Youâve always been strong. ButâŠâ He swallowed. âI still want to.â
Your chest ached at his words.
Because you knew. You had survived Zaun on your own, but now? Now, there was someone who wanted to stand beside you. Who wanted to shield you from a world that had already taken so much from you.
You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. âYouâre an idiot.â
Deuce chuckled, squeezing your hand. âYeah. But Iâm your idiot.â
You smiled, closing your eyes.
And for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.
Trey had always known that you were careful.
It was in the way you carried yourself calm, careful, always observing. You had this edge to you, this quiet awareness that never seemed to fade, even in the safety of Night Raven College. At first, he thought it was just your personality. But as he spent more time with you, he noticed the little things.
How you never sat with your back to a door.
How your steps were always light, controlled, ready to move in an instant.
How you scanned a room the second you entered, like you were mapping out exits.
Trey was patient. He never pushed, never pried. He just stayed close, letting you set the pace. And eventually, when you were ready, you told him.
About the smog-filled streets, the makeshift homes stacked on top of each other, the neon glow that never quite hid the darkness beneath. About the baron that ruled the alleys, the shimmer addicts slumped against walls, the fights that broke out over scraps of food.
You didnât sugarcoat it.
Trey listened in silence, his usual gentle expression unreadable. And when you finished, he just exhaled slowly before pulling you into a hug.
ââŠThatâs a lot,â he murmured.
You snorted against his chest. âYeah.â
His arms tightened around you. âI canât imagine what that was like. But Iâm glad youâre here now.â
But nothing could have prepared him for seeing it himself.
It wasnât supposed to happen. You had no reason to go back. But somehowâthrough some twist of fate,Trey found himself standing in the middle of Zaun.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt completely out of place.
The air was thick, a strange metallic taste settling on his tongue. The streets were alive with movement, people rushing past, their gazes sharp and wary. The flickering neon lights cast eerie glows on cracked pavement, and every corner seemed to hide something dangerous.
He felt it in the way people looked at him,like he was a mark, someone too clean, too easy to take advantage of. Trey had been in rough neighborhoods before, but nothing like this.
You moved through the streets effortlessly, slipping past people without a second thought. You didnât hesitate, didnât flinch. This was your home.
And suddenly, Trey saw you in a new light.
Not just as the person who teased him in the kitchen, who stole bites of his pastries when he wasnât looking. But as someone who had survived in a place that chewed people up and spit them out.
How many times had you gone to sleep hungry?
How many fights had you been in just to keep yourself safe?
How many nights had you wondered if youâd even see the morning?
Trey didnât like thinking about it.
That night, when you finally found a place to rest, he sat beside you in silence. He hadnât said much since you arrived, and you noticed.
ââŠYou okay?â you asked.
Trey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. âI donât know.â He glanced around. âThis place⊠itâs rough.â
You huffed. âYeah. But itâs home.â
Trey looked at you, his green eyes softening. âI get that. I justâŠâ His voice trailed off before he shook his head. âI wish you didnât have to grow up like this.â
You had expected pity, maybe even discomfort. But Trey just sounded⊠sad.
You leaned against him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. âI didnât have a choice,â you murmured.
âI know.â His voice was quiet. âBut it still doesnât sit right with me.â
For a while, neither of you spoke. Then Trey exhaled, a small smile playing on his lips. âYâknow, I bet the people here would love my pastries.â
You snorted. âTheyâd rob you before you even finished setting up a stall.â
âThen Iâd just have to bake fast enough to keep up.â He nudged you gently. âBet I could win them over with a good tart.â
You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. âYouâre ridiculous.â
Trey chuckled. âMaybe. But if weâre ever back here again, Iâm making you something sweet. No arguments.â
You tilted your head, watching him.
Even here, in a place that was so far from his world, he still found ways to make you feel warm. Safe. Loved.
You reached out, intertwining your fingers with his. âYouâre too good for this place.â
He squeezed your hand. âMaybe. But Iâd still follow you anywhere.â
Your chest ached at his words.
Zaun had never been kind to you. But with Trey beside you, it didnât feel so heavy anymore.
Maybe, just maybe, you werenât as alone as you thought.
Cater had always known you were different.
Not in a bad way,if anything, it made you more interesting. There was something about you that drew him in, something sharp and unshaken, like you had already seen the worst life had to offer and come out standing.
At first, he chalked it up to you being a little reserved, a little more observant than the average NRC student. But then, he started noticing things.
The way you never fully relaxed in crowded places.
The way you always positioned yourself near an exit.
The way your eyes flicked to people's hands before their faces, like you were checking for threats.
It wasnât just street smarts. It was survival.
But Cater wasnât one to pry. He just smiled, played along, made jokes to see if he could get you to laugh. And eventually, you let him in.
The undercity, the toxic air, the towering factories that never stopped running. The gangs that ran entire districts, the shimmer dens hidden in plain sight, the people who learned to fight young or didnât last long.
Cater had been expecting something dark, but not this dark.
He didnât interrupt, didnât joke. He just listened, his usual playful expression giving way to something softer, more serious. And when you finally stopped talking, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours.
âWhoa,â he murmured. âAnd I thought my home life was rough.â
You huffed a quiet laugh. âYeah, well. You get used to it.â
His fingers curled around yours, holding on tight. âDoesnât mean you shouldâve had to.â
And for once, you didnât have a response.
But hearing about Zaun was one thing. Seeing it was another.
Cater had always prided himself on adapting to any situation, on blending in wherever he went. But here? Here, he did not belong.
The second you stepped into Zaun, it was like entering a different world. The air was heavy, thick with pollution, and the neon lights flickering overhead barely cut through the smog. The streets were damp, filled with the scent of oil, metal, and something chemical that made his head feel light.
For once, Cater wasnât sure how to act. He could feel the stares, the way people sized him up in an instant. It was the kind of attention he didnât like,the kind that made his skin crawl.
And you? You werenât fazed at all.
You moved through the streets with practiced ease, dodging a broken pipe here, slipping past a group of people there. You didnât hesitate, didnât second-guess. This was home to you.
Cater had always thought of you as cool, but now? Now, he was just in awe.
At some point, he grabbed your wrist, holding on just tight enough to let you know he was there. He didnât say anything, didnât complain about the air or the way his head was starting to pound. He just followed you.
And when you finally stopped, finding a place where the two of you could breathe, he let out a breathless laugh.
âOkay, I definitely underestimated what you meant by âZaun is rough.ââ
You smirked, leaning against the wall. âTold you.â
Cater shook his head, running a hand through his hair. âNo, likeâthis place is next level crazy.â He exhaled, glancing around. âAnd you grew up in this?â
ââŠDamn.â He whistled low, looking at you with something different in his gaze. It wasnât pity, wasnât discomfort. It was admiration.
Because damn, you were strong.
Cater wasnât the sentimental type, but something about this made his heart twist. You had survived all this, built yourself up from this, and somehow, you were still here. Still standing, still fighting.
And yet, you had let him in. Let him see this side of you.
ââŠYou know,â he said after a moment, his voice quieter, âyou donât have to handle everything alone anymore.â
You blinked, caught off guard. âCaterââ
âI mean it.â He stepped closer, his usual grin softer now. âYouâre a total badass, no doubt. But if you ever wanna lean on someone? Iâm right here.â
You had spent your whole life relying on yourself, on your instincts, on your ability to survive. And now, here was Caterbright, unpredictable, carefree Cater,offering you something you never thought youâd have.
You swallowed hard before nudging him lightly. âYouâre too soft for this place.â
He chuckled, bumping his forehead against yours. âMaybe. But Iâd follow you anywhere, babe.â
For the first time, Zaun didnât feel so cold.
Because with Cater beside you, even the darkest streets felt a little brighter.
English is not my first language !
