Sometimes, Crying Is The Strong Thing.

Rivalry

summary: After Grim loudly claims that you’re "the only one allowed to be my hench-human forever" in front of Ace and Deuce. Deuce takes it very seriously. He’s suddenly determined to prove he’s the better choice to be your number one by showing it to you through various means. And now you have a love struck Heartslabyul student and a jealous cat monster fighting for your attention.

pairing: deuce spade x gn!reader

warnings: very dialogue heavy, the usual stupidity that comes with heartshackle.

word count: 1.6k

Lunch had started like any other day. You, Grim, Ace, and Deuce were crowded around a table, eating and chatting between bites. Grim, as usual, was stealing from your plate despite having his own food.

"Ugh," Ace groaned. "Pairing us up for alchemy project without even letting us choose? That's unfair!"

"It's Crewel," you said.

"Seriously, we're the ones who have to suffer." he huffed, "What if we get stuck with some lazy bum who expects us to do all the work?"

You wanted to comment that knowing Ace's grade in alchemy, he would be the one to drag his partner down but you instead settled on a shrug and said, "It's supposed to teach us teamwork."

Ace scoffed. "More like it's teaching me how to carry someone's dead weight. What about you guys? Who'd you get?"

"I got some guy from Pomefiore," you answered, poking at your food. "He seems nice enough."

"Eh, how lucky," Ace mused. Then, he turned to Deuce. "And you?"

Deuce, who had been oddly quiet, frowned slightly. "Some student from Ignihyde. He barely talks."

"Yikes." Ace shook his head. "Bet you wish you had a better partner, huh? If you could pick anyone, who would it be?"

Deuce hesitated. He looked at his plate, thinking for a long moment. Then, as if the answer had been obvious all along, he turned to you.

"The Prefect, probably."

You blinked in surprise. "Me?"

Deuce nodded.

"You're reliable. You actually try to get things done instead of slacking off. If I had to do a project with anyone, I'd want someone I can count on."

You laughed, a little flustered. "That's a nice compliment, thank you."

Before the conversation could continue, Grim suddenly slammed his paws onto the table, nearly knocking over your glass of water.

"NO WAY!" he barked, fur bristling. "No one gets to be their number one but me!"

Ace burst into laughter. "What!?"

Grim turned to you, puffing out his chest. "You're the only one allowed to be my hench-human forever!"

Silence followed his statement.

Ace recovered first, snorting. "Whoa, where's this coming from? Who's trying to steal your 'hench-human,' furball?"

Grim scoffs. "No one! I'm just sayin' you two dunces don't stand a chance."

"Grim. This is not a competition." you sighed.

"But we're a team!"

There was no arguing with him when he got like this. "Sure, Grim. Whatever you say."

Satisfied, Grim went back to eating, clearly believing the discussion was over.

But…

"So, you're saying anyone who wants to be their number one has to prove they're better than you?" Deuce asked, his expression serious. Something about the way he said it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Grim scoffed. "No one's gonna do that 'cause no one's better than me!"

Deuce frowned, but his expression quickly turned determined. You didn't like that look.

"Alright," he said, clenching a fist. "Challenge accepted."

You stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I'll prove I'm the better choice to be your number one!" Deuce declared, eyes burning with conviction.

Grim shot up. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"

"No! You two are not doing this!" you raised your hand to grab their attention, but your words fell into deaf ears as Grim and Deuce had a stare-down.

You let out a sigh for the nth time that day.

Deuce and Grim were not lying when they took 'being your number one' as a competition. The very next morning you had to deal with them.

Deuce was already at your side, reaching for your bag.

"I'll carry that."

"Deuce, I can carry my own bag."

"But I should do it," he insisted. "A good partner helps out however they can."

Before you could protest, Grim leapt onto your shoulder.

"Well, I help out by keeping 'em company! Try beatin' that!"

Deuce frowned, considering something. Then, his eyes brightened with realization.

"I could walk them to class every day."

Grim gasped in offence. "I already do that!"

"Yeah, but I'll make sure they actually get there instead of wandering off and getting roped into trouble."

"Myah! No, I don't wander!"

"Okay!" You stepped between them before a fight broke out. "That's enough!"

The two of them turned to you expectantly.

You exhaled through your nose. "Look. I appreciate the thought, really. But I don't need to be walked to class. I don't need someone carrying my stuff. And I definitely don't need you two constantly trying to one-up each other!"

There was a long pause.

"... So what you're saying is," Deuce began, rubbing his chin, "I need to do more than just carrying things?"

Grim's ears flattened. "That's not what they said!"

Ace smirked, seemingly enjoying the scene. "Wow, Prefect, tough crowd today."

I need new friends, was the only thought that occupied your mind all the way to your class.

When lunchtime rolled around, you expected to enjoy a quiet meal. If anything went wrong, Riddle would definitely collar both Grim and Deuce. So, you were not worried about anything actually going wrong.

Unfortunately (well, fortunately, but Grim got involved) Deuce had gone ahead and brought you lunch.

"Here," he says, setting your food in front of you before sitting down. "You like this stuff, right?"

You blinked. "Yeah, but…"

"What do you think you're doin'?" Grim butt in.

"Just helping them out." Deuce frowned.

"Oh yeah?" Grim huffed. "Well, I always share my food with them!"

Which was the biggest lie anyone would ever hear from Grim. You had to fight him off every time his paw would reach for your food.

You turned to stare at Grim. "Grim. You literally steal food from my plate."

"Myah! It's called sharing!" he insisted, crossing his little arms, then turned to Deuce. "Besides, what makes you think the hench-human wants you buyin' their food, huh?"

Deuce stiffened, suddenly looking uncertain. "I mean… I just thought–"

"Hey, if you're bringing people lunch, I wouldn't mind one too," Ace cut in, grinning as he reached for your plate.

"This isn't for you," Deuce smacked his hand away without hesitation.

"Ooh, I see how it is," Ace snickered.

"There's nothing to see," Deuce said quickly, ears turning pink.

You sighed, shaking your head. "Deuce, I appreciate it, but you don't have to bring me lunch."

"I wanted to," he said, stubborn as ever. His eyes were set with the same determination he had when he swore to be your number one.

"Then I should be the one doin' it!" Grim declared, puffing out his chest.

You shot him a look. "Grim, you steal my food."

"You're missing the point!" he said, scrambling for some sort of rebuttal. "I don't need to bring lunch to be the best! I got charm! And loyalty! And–" He trailed off, ears flicking as he struggled to think of more reasons. Finally, he threw his paws up in frustration. "And I am the Great Grim! And I don't see you tryin' to be a better number one than me!"

"Because I don't just say it. I prove it." Deuce said in a smug tone.

Grim slammed his paws on the table. "Fine! I'll prove it, too!"

Deuce met his challenge head-on, slamming his own hands on the table. "Fine!"

"Keep this up and Riddle will come here and collar both of you," you grumbled, which shut both of the idiots up.

"What are you doing, Deuce?" you asked the boy with a toolbox in your dorm. Something always kept happening, and you were on your last straw.

He cleared his throat. "I noticed your door's been sticking out, so I thought I'd fix it."

You blinked at him. "Deuce. That's… actually really nice."

You barely had time to be touched by the gesture before a blur of gray fur shot past you.

"OH, NO YOU DON'T!"

Grim skidded to a halt in front of the door, standing his ground like a knight protecting their master.

"I already fixed it!"

Deuce frowned. "You did?"

"Yeah! Used my claws to pry it loose!"

You slapped a hand to your forehead. "Grim, that's not fixing it–"

"But I did it for you!"

Deuce narrowed his eyes. "I can actually fix it. Properly."

"Like I'd let you take my job!" Grim's fur stood on their end.

And then they started arguing again. Right outside the door.

It took forever to separate them, and by the time you did, you had enough.

You planted your hands on your hips. "That's it! I am done with this stupid competition! Stop this nonsense!"

Deuce and Grim froze.

Grim blinked up at you. "Huh?"

You exhaled, dragging a hand down your face. "Look. I get it. You both want to be my 'number one', but you don't have to prove anything to me."

Deuce bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're both important to me," you continued. "And I don't need ridiculous competitions or going out of your way to do things for me to prove that. Just be yourselves."

There was a beat of silence. Then Grim huffed, crossing his little arms. "Fine. But I still say I'm your number one."

"Grim." You glared.

"What? You said I don't have to prove anything!"

Deuce let out a quiet chuckle.

You turned to him, exhausted. "And you. Are we done with this?"

A faint pink dusted his cheeks. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Good."

You closed the door behind you, rubbing your temples. You couldn’t help but think about how much energy had been wasted on this ridiculous competition. You had things to do. Assignments to finish, a half-broken dorm to manage, and you had to handle the biggest troublemaker in NRC.

As you sighed, relieved the ordeal was over, Deuce hesitated before speaking.

"But if I did have to prove something, it wouldn’t just be about being your number one." He swallowed, his usual determination wavering. "I… I like you." His face was burning now. "Not just as a friend. I– I wanted to show you that."

Grim gagged. You ignored Grim, meeting Deuce’s nervous gaze. Then, you smiled. "You didn’t have to prove anything for that, either."

His eyes widened, then softened, lips curving into a grin.

© ladyfocalors

Jealousy, Jealousy with: Housewardens

Riddle Rosehearts

It was honestly impressive how oblivious some people could be.

You weren’t even doing anything particularly inviting—just standing in the courtyard, minding your own business—when someone you barely knew strolled up and started laying it on thick.

“Wow, you must be tired,” they grinned, leaning a little too close for comfort. “From running through my mind all day.”

You stared. Slowly blinked. “...I literally don’t know who you are.”

They laughed, undeterred. “Oh, a little mystery! I like that. We should get to know each other. How about a—”

Before they could finish, a very distinct presence materialized beside you, and suddenly, your hand was clasped in a vice grip.

You turned your head, already stifling a grin. Riddle stood stiffly at your side, his expression carefully neutral—too neutral—but his fingers tightened around yours with unmistakable possessiveness.

And then, in the most Riddle way possible, he opened his mouth and immediately started critiquing their uniform.

“Your tie is loose, your shirt is untucked, and your posture is abysmal,” he declared, gaze sharp. “It’s disgraceful. If you have time to loiter and bother people who are clearly uninterested, then you certainly have time to fix your appearance.”

The person, previously brimming with confidence, visibly withered. “I—wait, you’re—”

“Housewarden Rosehearts,” Riddle confirmed, tone clipped. “And if you ever plan to talk to my partner again, I strongly suggest you do so properly dressed.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—without another word—the person bolted, nearly tripping over themselves in their rush to escape.

The moment they were gone, you turned to Riddle, your amusement barely contained. “Riddle,” you said, voice dripping with mirth. “Were you jealous?”

He scoffed, tugging at his collar. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You raised a brow, glancing pointedly at the way his grip on your hand hadn’t loosened in the slightest. Then, you took in the very obvious, very intense red dusting his cheeks.

He refused to meet your eyes.

You laughed, delighted, and before he could protest further, you leaned in and kissed him, pressing a quick, affectionate peck to his still burning cheek.

Riddle went still.

“…You are jealous,” you whispered against his skin, just to tease.

“I am not,” he insisted, but his voice cracked ever so slightly, and that was enough to send you into another fit of laughter.

Still smiling, you tugged on his hand, leading him away. “Come on, let’s go do something fun before you start assigning uniform inspections as an act of vengeance.”

Riddle let out a heavy sigh, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he laced his fingers more firmly with yours, the corners of his lips twitching—just barely—before he let you drag him along.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was going to lose his mind.

Three days.

Three days of watching you run around with those two idiots and that furball, pouring over textbooks, muttering formulas under your breath, completely oblivious to the fact that he existed.

You were studying. Fine. He got it. But you were studying with them.

And not him.

The moment the door to Ramshackle creaked open, you knew.

It was a sixth sense at this point—an awareness of a certain presence, of a lazy kind of arrogance that filled the air like a storm cloud waiting to break.

And break it did.

Because before you could so much as blink, a heavy arm was slung around your shoulders, and your entire world tilted.

You let out a startled yelp as you were bodily dragged from the dorm, Ace and Deuce frozen mid-review session, Grim’s tail puffed up in sheer betrayal.

“Oi—!”

“Not oi,” Leona drawled, utterly unbothered by your flailing. “Mine.”

You spluttered. “Leona, I have to study!”

“You can study later,” he dismissed, hauling you across campus with a grip so firm you had no choice but to stumble along. “You’re overdue for a break."

“I don’t have time for a break—”

“You do” he interrupted smoothly, and that was that.

You huffed, glaring up at him. “This is kidnapping.”

“Tch. If I was kidnapping you, I wouldn’t be this obvious about it.”

That was… not reassuring.

By the time he finally dumped you onto his bed, you were half-expecting him to declare an official study ban, but instead, he settled in beside you, his arms casually looping around your waist, his body half-draped over yours like an oversized, incredibly smug blanket.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against your shoulder, voice low and easy. “Study.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Here?”

He hummed. “Why not? I got old notes. Bet they’re better than whatever those idiots are using.”

You blinked. “You actually have notes?”

Leona scoffed, reaching over to grab a notebook from his desk. “What, you think I just guessed my way through school?” He flipped it open and, to your absolute shock, the pages were filled with neatly written summaries, key points highlighted with the kind of precision that suggested he did actually pay attention. “See?”

“…I hate that this is actually useful.”

“Told you.”

You sighed, already feeling yourself sink into the warmth of him, the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing, the way his fingers tapped lazily against your side, like he knew you were starting to relax and was deliberately making it worse.

Still. If you had to study, this wasn’t… terrible.

You let your head rest against his shoulder, flipping through the notes. “Fine. But if I fall asleep, it’s your fault.”

Leona smirked, his breath warm against your skin. “Then I guess you’ll just have to take a nap right here.”

You rolled your eyes, but the next time you felt him shift, the unmistakable curve of his smile pressing into your neck, you didn’t even bother fighting it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul Ashengrotto was a patient man.

A calculated man.

A businessman.

Which was the only reason he hadn’t already torn his hair out strand by agonized strand over the fact that you had been frequenting some other café for the past two weeks.

At first, he’d assumed it was a novelty thing. Maybe you had a moment of curiosity. Maybe they had some limited-time drink that you needed to try. Maybe you’d simply gotten lost—it happened more often than you liked to admit.

But no. You had kept going.

Loyal, devoted, regular patronage.

To a café that was not the Mostro Lounge.

Azul could not abide it.

So, instead of despairing in silence, he took action.

The next time you announced you were heading there, Azul smiled, adjusted his glasses, and accompanied you.

Because if there was something about this place that had captured your attention, then he would analyze it, perfect it, and eliminate the competition before they could even think about stealing away his most treasured customer.

(And partner. But semantics.)

At first, it seemed innocent enough. You gushed over some ridiculous limited-menu item with a starry-eyed enthusiasm that made him fond despite himself, but it was just cake. Cake was replaceable. Cake was replicable. Cake was nothing.

And then the owner came out.

Azul didn’t move, but his businessman’s smile settled into place with all the calculated precision of a predator fixing its gaze upon its prey.

The café owner, meanwhile, had their full attention on you.

And they were far too familiar.

Far too comfortable.

Far too eager.

Their eyes crinkled with warmth when they spoke to you, their laughter was just a touch too soft, and their entire demeanor—

Azul’s fingers twitched. He did not clench them into fists, because that would be petty, but—

He was going to destroy them.

With a pleasant, affable smile, of course.

By the time you finished your cake (which Azul had methodically analyzed with every bite), he had already formulated seventeen different ways to not only outdo this café, but to erase its relevance entirely.

He escorted you back to your room, silent for once, but his mind was racing.

And then, after a long pause, he asked, “Do you enjoy their presence?”

You blinked. “Who?”

“The owner.”

You stared at him, visibly baffled. “…I like their cake?”

Azul opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

And then, after a long, suffering pause, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, because of course you hadn’t noticed.

Because of course you had been utterly, entirely oblivious to the way they had been practically fawning over you.

He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

So, in the end, he simply pulled you close and kissed you, long and lingering, with a kind of slow, consuming possessiveness that had you melting against him in pleased surprise.

He held you the entire night, unwilling to let go, much to your delighted confusion.

And if, a week later, the Mostro Lounge mysteriously unveiled a bigger, better, and undeniably tastier version of that limited-edition cake, effectively nullifying any reason for you to return to that café—

Well.

Azul had no comment.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim insisted on picking you up after class every day, no matter how many times you told him it wasn’t necessary. He always laughed, dismissing your protests with a wave of his hand, as if the very idea of not meeting you after class was ridiculous. “Why wouldn’t I? I like seeing you first thing after class! It makes my whole day better!” And, honestly, how could you argue with that?

So, as usual, you waited outside, looking for that familiar flash of red and gold. You didn’t mind—Kalim was always quick, always eager, and always a little over-the-top about it, greeting you with his usual sunbeam of a grin and a greeting so enthusiastic it was like he hadn’t just seen you that morning.

But today, before Kalim arrived, someone else approached.

At first, you thought it was just an overly friendly upperclassman looking to chat, but the way they leaned in, the way their eyes swept over you, made your skin crawl. Their words were dripping with false charm, their smile just a little too knowing, and the moment they took your hand, something in you snapped.

You were seconds away from yanking yourself free and letting them know exactly what you thought about their audacity—

And then, before you could react, a firm hand wrenched theirs away from you.

You turned, eyes widening in surprise, and saw Kalim standing beside you.

Only—this wasn’t the Kalim you were used to.

There was no bright, carefree smile, no cheerful energy. His expression was carefully blank, his eyes steady and serious in a way that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. He wasn’t angry—no, you’d seen Kalim angry before, and this was something different. This was controlled, quiet disapproval as he stared the person down, his grip on their wrist unyielding.

“Don’t touch them.” His voice was even, but there was no room for argument.

The person sputtered something, an attempt at an excuse, but Kalim’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t shout, didn’t make a scene, didn’t need to. The sheer weight of his presence was enough, and after a tense pause, the person hurried off, clearly rattled.

And just like that, Kalim let out a breath and turned back to you, his usual grin slipping easily back into place, warm and reassuring. “Are you okay?”

You blinked.

Your heart was pounding. Not from fear—not even from lingering discomfort—but from something else entirely.

Because, apparently, Kalim without his smile was unfairly, ridiculously attractive.

You managed to nod, clearing your throat, forcing yourself to breathe as he took your hand—gently, reverently, the complete opposite of the unwanted touch from before. He squeezed it lightly, beaming at you as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.

Later that night, as the two of you lounged together, he confessed, a little sheepishly, “I hated seeing them touch you.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if just remembering it made his stomach twist.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, leaning in to kiss him. He hummed against your lips, pleased, the jealousy from earlier completely forgotten.

And if, after that, Kalim insisted on being even quicker to meet you after class, practically appearing the second you stepped outside—well, who were you to complain?

Vil Schoenheit

You had been meticulous in your planning. A surprise party to celebrate Vil’s latest movie role—because, really, any excuse to throw a party for him was a good one. You coordinated with Rook (a double-edged sword, given his enthusiasm), found the perfect venue, picked out a cake that was as extravagant as he was, and carefully avoided any suspicion.

Or at least, you thought you had.

Vil, on the other hand, was about five minutes away from losing the last thread of his sanity.

You had been avoiding him. Not in the obvious, dramatic way—but in the subtle, infuriating way that made his stomach twist unpleasantly. Shorter conversations, quick kisses before running off, whispering in dim hallways with Rook, of all people.

Rook, who delighted in keeping secrets and spoke in riddles even when he wasn’t actively trying to be cryptic. Every time Vil so much as entered the room, your conversations stopped, and all he got was your innocent, suspiciously wide-eyed smile.

It was unacceptable.

But Vil was not jealous. Of course not. He was above something so irrational. Why should he feel threatened? The very idea of it was absurd. He was merely… curious. Concerned. Watching you sneak around with Rook had been horrible for his blood pressure, but jealous? Certainly not.

(And if his skincare routine had gotten even more rigorous to account for stress-induced breakouts, that was purely coincidental.)

So when you finally waltzed into his room, all bright-eyed and smiling, telling him to get dressed, his patience—what little remained—snapped.

In one smooth motion, he had you caged in against his vanity.

You blinked up at him, startled. “Uh. Hi?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You have been distracted lately.”

“Uh.” Your bluffing instincts kicked in, but it was useless. Vil’s gaze was sharp, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t look angry, exactly—he looked… hurt.

And, well. That was enough to shatter your resolve immediately.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!” You blurted, hands flying up in surrender. “We planned a surprise party for your movie premiere, and I didn’t want to ruin it! That’s why I’ve been sneaking around!”

Silence.

And then—

Vil laughed.

Not a quiet chuckle. Not a delicate, amused exhale. No, he laughed so hard that he had to lean on you for support, his entire body shaking with it.

And just like that, the tension was gone. He exhaled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before straightening. “Next time,” he said, smoothing his hands over your shoulders, “just tell me.”

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-fond. “That ruins the surprise.”

“Surprises are overrated,” he declared. “Now, come. You planned this party, and I refuse to let you attend it looking anything less than perfect.”

Before you could protest, he had already grabbed your wrist, dragging you toward his closet.

And honestly? After all that turmoil, matching outfits was the least he deserved.

Idia Shroud

Idia had been off all evening.

Not in the usual, grumbly, "the outside world is a waking nightmare" kind of way. No, this was different. This was pointed.

He was pouting.

You had first noticed it when he refused to meet your gaze, keeping his head turned at an almost comical angle whenever you tried to look at him. Even when you sat next to him, close enough that your shoulders brushed, he still wouldn’t acknowledge you.

At first, you thought he was just having an introvert moment. But then you noticed his fingers—tapping on his controller in short, stilted bursts, his usual fluid movements replaced with something far more sulky.

Something was wrong. And worse, he was refusing to tell you.

So, naturally, you did what any reasonable person would do.

You grabbed his face.

“??!!??!” Idia made an undignified noise as your hands squished his cheeks, forcing him to finally look at you. His wide eyes darted around frantically, looking for an escape, but you just leaned in, resting your forehead against his.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did.”

For a second, he wavered. You could see it—the way his hands twitched, his lips pressed together in a battle between staying mad and melting like he always did when you held him like this.

But then—betrayal. Pure, unfiltered betrayal flashed in his eyes.

“If you don’t even realize your crimes,” he huffed, “then you don’t deserve to be told.”

…Huh.

You blinked at him, torn between concern and immense amusement. His cheeks were puffed up in an actual pout, his shoulders slightly hunched like an offended cat. His hair even flickered with a dramatic little sizzle, the blue flames crackling indignantly.

So, you did what any responsible partner would do in this situation.

You kissed his cheek.

He made another noise—this one more flustered than betrayed—but at least he wasn’t turning away anymore.

“Idiaaaa,” you coaxed, voice lilting as you gently rubbed soothing circles against his jaw. “Come on. Tell me.”

He hesitated.

Then, in a grievously wounded tone, he finally muttered:

“You did your dailies… without me. Who did you do them with?”

You stared at him.

“…That’s it?”

He gasped, looking even more betrayed. “That’s it?!”

Okay. Maybe not the best response.

“I just—” You tried to stifle your laugh, but failed miserably. “I didn’t know it was that serious—”

“IT IS,” he declared. “We have an unspoken promise! Every night! We do our dailies! We do our pulls! We suffer together in the gacha mines!” He gestured wildly, his voice spiking in distress. “And today—today, you—you—” His voice wobbled. “You betrayed me.”

You clutched your chest in mock horror. “I have committed the greatest of sins.”

“You HAVE.”

You bit your lip, barely holding back another laugh, but then—then you saw his face. The dramatic pout, the still-flickering flames, the way his fingers fidgeted against his sleeve.

And suddenly, it hit you.

This wasn’t just about the dailies. This was his time with you. The one moment of the day where it was just the two of you, side by side, relaxed and rambling about nonsense while farming loot drops.

And you had accidentally robbed him of it.

Your amusement softened into something warmer. You pulled him closer, letting your fingers trail through his hair as you pressed another kiss to his cheek—longer this time.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, resting your chin against his shoulder. “I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I did them alone, by the way.”

He mumbled something under his breath, still sulking, but at least he wasn’t pulling away.

“I promise I’ll wait for you every day from now on,” you continued, letting your fingers trace comforting patterns into his back. “Okay?”

“…Tch,” he muttered. Then, after a long pause, he finally slumped against you, his entire weight pressing into your chest.

You grinned. Victory.

“…You are watching the Premo concert reruns with me as compensation, though,” he grumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, amused. “Fine, fine.”

And that was how you ended up in Idia’s room for hours, marathoning concerts.

And if you showed up to class the next day completely wrecked from lack of sleep?

It was fine.

As long as Idia was happy.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia is above petty emotions.

He is the Prince of Briar Valley, an ancient being of immense power, the strongest fae in existence—he does not succumb to something as trivial as jealousy.

…That is what he tells himself as he watches you, once again, being hopelessly kind to people who clearly do not deserve it.

He watches as you nod along to Crowley’s latest absurd request, despite the fact that everyone knows that the headmaster is little more than a well-dressed menace with a penchant for delegating all responsibility to you.

He watches as some random student—a student who has never once acknowledged your existence before—approaches you with a bright, eager smile, undoubtedly about to ask you for yet another favor.

And he feels a peculiar, simmering sensation coil in his chest.

Malleus is not petty. He does not get jealous.

But he does dislike seeing you taken advantage of.

So, before this interloper can even get a word out, Malleus simply appears by your side, materializing in that eerie, seamless way that only he can. His presence alone is enough to make the student stumble back in terror, but then—just to be certain—he reaches out and takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours with casual ease.

The effect is instantaneous.

The student goes pale. Their entire body stiffens, eyes darting between you and Malleus as if calculating whether their life is worth whatever ridiculous request they were about to make. The answer, apparently, is no, because they immediately spin on their heel and flee.

Malleus watches them go, his expression carefully neutral.

He usually dislikes the way people fear him. But today?

…Today, he finds himself rather pleased.

Satisfied, he turns back to you, fully expecting you to be grateful for his intervention. Perhaps a soft smile, a quiet "thank you," maybe even a fond squeeze of his hand—

Instead, he is met with your grin.

That knowing, teasing grin.

The one that says you know exactly what he just did. The one that says you know he is not as above jealousy as he claims to be. The one that says, without words, oh, so you’re feeling possessive today?

Malleus pointedly ignores it.

“Come,” he says smoothly, giving your hand the lightest tug. “Let us go somewhere… peaceful.”

You let him pull you along, but not without looping your arm around his and leaning into him with unmistakable amusement.

Malleus pretends he does not notice.

Masterlist

Since Xmas is almost upon us, can you do one with the dorm leaders receiving a present from their s/o on Xmas? Thank You

this is your official fairestwriting christmas post. i decided to go all out and give each one of them a little scenario! i hope you like it. merry late crisis everyone!

Riddle Rosehearts

Since talk of holiday season started showing up around Riddle, he'd been stressed. With his mother being herself, she'd been expecting him to come home for winter break, and that had been a whole argument of its own, but with the help of you and his friends, you'd been able to set up a party at Heartslabyul with the rest of the students who stayed.

When it's time to exchange gifts and you hand him the strawberry-themed tea set you'd felt lucky you even found, plus a loving note about how proud you were of him for standing his ground, Riddle's eyes go as wide as the dinner plates, you swear you could see tears prickling at the corners.

"I'm... thank you, so much." He says, his voice small and frail for a second, before a big smile makes its way through his face. "I think I can remember a rule regarding present wrapping now, but... I guess we can make an exception tonight. Besides, I did want to give you a gift of my own too, so..."

Leona Kingscholar

Does Leona even celebrate any holidays? When you asked him, he shrugged and made this noncommital noise. You squinted your eyes at him, and he said nothing else. You could tell then that it wouldn't be so easy to get him a present. You end up making him a bracelet anyway, matching the ones he often wears, in both your favorite colors.

Your celebration is more of a private one, a little early on before he leaves for the break with his family. Savanaclaw was holding its own little party that night, exchanging gifts, food and drinks, and you were there with Leona, who you knew was going to leave early, as he did for every event. When he asks you to come with him, you're assuming it's for that, and there's your opportunity.

Before you can get it from your pocket, though, he pulls out a package of his own. "So, Herbivore, I don't really care about the holidays, but since you do, I decided I'd..." He notices you're holding one as well, and smirks. "Oh, did you get me a present too? I guess I can't say you owe me one now, then..." He chuckles as he leans into your space, always so smug, but his tail swishes happily.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul does not like gifts. You have known that since way before you started dating, yet you couldn't help yourself in how you wanted to give him a little something for christmas. It takes some talking to, but he'd been inviting you to spend the break with his family anyway, and he finally caved in when you framed it like a gift trade rather than just you giving him something.

You make sure to pick it as carefully as you can way before he takes you to meet his family, and it's intimidating, the thought of seeing your boyfriend's parents for the first time, plus the whole underwater factor, but the dinner with the Ashengrottos turns out to go by quickly, everyone appreciating your company.

He steps up to tell everyone to skip to gift giving time when his mother is about to get the baby pictures out, which you all agree on, laughing to yourselves. You finally get to show him that you got him a fountain pen for his work, then! And his huffiness instantly subsides. "That's... I'm really not one for gifts, but it's beautiful. Thank you." You finally get a smile from him, and he grasps your gift in his hands. "Ah, I can only hope mine will be enough to cover this. But if it's not, I'll find a way to make up for it as well..."

Kalim Al-Asim

Scarabia was having one hell of a christmas party. You knew that before you even really did, it was just as obvious as common sense. When winter break is nearing and Kalim skips over to you to tell you about his plans, you aren't surprised in the slightest, though it lights up one new thought in your mind: You needed to get him something.

Getting Kalim a gift actually proves itself to... not be very easy. He's excitable and loving, sure, and you know he'd appreciate anything you gave him, but you wanted to make it a good surprise, and he's capital R rich... you try getting information out of Jamil when you're helping him with his tasks, but even with that, it's still hard.

Eventually, you figure it out, and when you do, you're proud. You join Scarabia in their party that night, everyone's spirits high. You pull him aside when the gift giving starts, showing him the gold necklace you got him with a big smile, wishing him a merry christmas. Kalim's eyes sparkle, he envelops you in a big hug. "Merry christmas! Thank you so much!" He chimes, twirling you as he laughs. "Now I just need to give you my gifts! They're in the other room, though...I didn't know what to pick so I just got everything I liked, hehe."

Vil Schoenheit

Christmas was approaching, and you were nervous. You've been dating Vil for a while now, and you know very well how picky and strict he is. You know your boyfriend loves you, of course, but you can't help but feel anxious about the holidays, especially since Vil had invited you to come meet his father.

Your roles revert for a little bit, in that now he’s the one telling you to loosen up a bit, you’re already doing a great job at being his partner, he trusts you with all of this. Though he does offer help in picking the present, but you refuse it, adamant about the fact that you want to surprise him.

And as he said, it all goes alright. You’re a little shy, but his father is kind and the Schoenheit home is warm, the three of you eat and share stories comfortably, you feel like you have a place there. You pull him aside to give him his gift, though, because you wanted it to be one-on-one as you’re handing him the brooch you picked. “Oh, you have such good taste, potato. I’m impressed.” He says, chuckling when he takes it in his hands. “I’ll definitely be wearing this. Now, I just need to give you mine, too. I hope you like it, you know I don’t settle for anything but the best.”

Idia Shroud

In a scale from one to ten, how surprising is it that Idia is kind of a grinch type? You knew of his opinion on the holidays as soon as talk of it started to emerge in Night Raven, him grumbling about how all the bright jolly energy was “hurting his eyes”, but when you asked him if he would be okay with getting a present, he stammered, voice pitching up high, that he wouldn’t mind. And so you go on your mission.

Luckily, you spend a lot of time with him in his room, and he tends to ramble a lot about the anime and games he’s currently into, so choosing what to get him isn’t difficult! He does have some holiday stress though, seeming a bit conflicted over going back home to his family, but you tell him you’ll hang out with him in his room before you leave for break, and it seems to make him happy.

There’s not much of a christmas atmosphere going on while you’re there, but there are a few holiday events in some of the games you play together, so it kind of feels like you’re celebrating in your own unique way. After some of that, you decide to hand him the gift, and he just burns red. “You got it for me...!” He squeaks, grabbing the box in complete shock, holding it to his chest. “S-Seven, that’s... thank you, merry christmas, c-can I get you something after break too? I was already planning to, but... um, I mean, it was supposed to be a surprise.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus does quite enjoy christmas. He doesn’t celebrate it himself, since it’s not really as much of a part of the culture in the Valley of Thorns, but he can’t help but appreciate the warm, celebratory atmosphere. You ask him if he’d mind if you got him anything, and you swear you see his pupils grow a little as he says he wouldn’t.

You two schedule a dinner by Ramshackle the day before he has to leave for break, he does make a point in telling you he’d bring you over to the Valley, but thought it might be better to take it slow, since it’s your first year in Twisted Wonderland. You wonder about what to get him for a while, until you come across this miniature gargoyle in Sam’s shop.

The way it goes is kind of like it was all scripted by fate. You get food together, mostly bought, and you’d decorated the dorm beforehand. You talk and watch the snow, light the fireplace to sit in front of it in comfortable silence, when you decide to break it to hand him the gift. You don’t have to say much, just placing it on his hands as you smile. “I love it.” And he says, smiling back with his voice full of wonder. “You know me better than anyone else, don’t you, Child of Man? Thank you for spending the holiday with me. I’ve also picked out a special gem to gift you, though that’s not much of a christmas tradition, I think...”

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

I need some teasing romantic fluff, can I request the housewardens reaction to being pulled into a random room by their lover and being smother with kisses. Please and thank you 💖💖

Kiss And Make-Out

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] dormleaders

- [𝐩:𝐬] suggestive themes . mentions of making out ofc

Note: Honestly thing took me shorter than I thought it would to write Lol. And I tried my best to not make it extremely suggestive... But I then realized I have free will and just made it regularly suggestive.

Riddle Rosehearts

The hallway was quiet, lined with the dignified wallpaper and polished wood of Heartslabyul’s east wing. Riddle was walking beside you, dutifully listing the upcoming events for the next dorm meeting, when you suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Wait—what are you—!" he sputtered, blinking rapidly as you tugged him into a nearby, empty reading room.

The door slammed shut behind you. Bookshelves stood in neat rows, sunlight streaming through high windows. But you didn’t give Riddle a chance to take in the room. You spun him to face you, pressing your body close, your hands already cupping his cheeks.

“[Name]!” Riddle gasped, eyes wide, ears turning red. “This is highly improper—”

You kissed him before he could finish.

His breath hitched as your lips met his in a flurry of soft, passionate kisses—one on the lips, another on the cheek, then two more down his neck. His back gently met the shelf behind him, a soft thump muffled by his uniform. He stood stiff for a second, flustered beyond belief, but then…

"...You're being completely unreasonable," he mumbled between kisses, although his hands were now resting on your waist. "I can't focus when you do that."

But he didn’t stop you.

Your kisses moved down to his collarbone, and Riddle squirmed just a bit. His face was a flaming red now, his breathing shallow. You could feel the way his heart was thudding under your fingertips as you ran your hands through his soft red hair.

“I’m trying to behave…” he whispered.

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you replied sweetly, stealing another kiss from his lips.

Eventually, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a quiet, surrendering sigh. “Only you could get away with something like this…” he muttered, arms now wrapped around your waist. “But if Trey walks in, I’m blaming you.”

Leona Kingscholar

You knew Leona was headed back from Spelldrive practice—his shirt clinging to his broad chest, his hair tousled, golden skin glistening with sweat. You had timed it perfectly.

As he turned the corner toward the dorm hallway, you jumped out from behind a tapestry, grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“Tch—what the hell—”

You dragged him into an unused music room, slamming the door behind you.

“Oi, herbivore, are you trying to start a fight?” Leona snapped, eyebrows furrowed, tail lashing in confusion.

But your only answer was kissing him hard.

The snarl caught in his throat immediately vanished as you caught him by surprise, hands sliding up his toned chest, lips moving over his with soft, heated insistence. For a moment, he stood stock-still, blinking, your kiss leaving him dazed. Then you kissed the corner of his mouth, then under his jaw, and he let out a slow, very audible groan.

“You really woke up and chose chaos today, huh,” he muttered against your lips.

He let his bag drop with a thud. “You could’ve waited ‘til I showered, but nah, you want your king like this?”

You nipped at his lip playfully, whispering, “I want you like this especially.”

That was enough.

Leona’s hands gripped your hips with a growl, spinning you and pressing you back against the wall, kissing you with fierce hunger now. His tongue brushed yours, his fangs grazing your lower lip as he kissed you harder, deeper. His tail flicked behind him, betraying his rising desire.

“I should punish you for ambushing me like that,” he murmured against your ear, voice gravelly.

“But I won’t.”

His smirk was dangerous and lazy all at once.

“Not yet, anyway.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had just finished another long meeting in Mostro Lounge. You waited until the twins had left him alone in the hallway before you struck.

“Azul, can I borrow you for a second?” you said sweetly, tugging at his sleeve.

“Ah, certainly, my pearl—wait, where are we—?”

You pulled him into a supply closet of all places. It was dimly lit, a little dusty, but private. Azul looked around in confusion, pushing up his glasses.

“I—is this about the contract I was drafting—?”

You didn’t answer. You kissed him.

The poor boy short-circuited. He froze as your hands slid into his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp. You kissed his lips, then his cheek, then the underside of his jaw, and he visibly shivered.

“[Name]—w-wait—why now? I-I didn’t prepare—!” he stammered, glasses askew, already blushing violently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again, long and slow this time. Azul's knees buckled slightly, and he caught himself by gripping the shelves behind him. His breath was trembling as you ran your fingers down his sides.

“You… you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, eyes wide behind his fogged glasses. “This is too much for a man of my constitution…”

But even as he said that, his hands found your waist, gently pulling you closer. His lips brushed your ear.

“I suppose I shouldn’t complain about having such an affectionate girlfriend…”

You smiled. “You love it.”

“…Don’t tell the twins.”

Kalim Al-Asim

You caught Kalim just as he was coming down the golden staircase in Scarabia, humming to himself, all sunny and unbothered. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you.

“[Name]!! I was just about to look for—WHOAAA!!”

You didn’t let him finish. You grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the nearest room—one of the spare guest suites with gauzy curtains and sun spilling in through the arched windows. He stumbled in after you, laughing the whole time.

“You’re so full of surprises today—ACK!”

You tackled him onto the cushions, landing right on top of him with a mischievous grin. Before he could ask anything, you started kissing him—peppering his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and his lips with kisses so fast he couldn’t even catch his breath.

“Wha—mmf! Wahahaha—[Name]!! Wait!!” Kalim laughed uncontrollably, trying to catch your hands in his. “You’re kissing me too fast—I’m gonna pass out from happiness!!”

You finally paused just long enough to look down at him. His white hair was a little messy, his golden eyes gleaming, his face flushed and grinning like the sun itself.

“Was that all for me?” he asked breathlessly, cheeks glowing.

You nodded and leaned in again, kissing his lips a little slower this time.

He melted under you like butter on hot sand.

“Wow,” he murmured, now dazed. “You’re… amazing. I think my heart just did a triple somersault. I should throw a party just to celebrate this moment!”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You really would, huh?”

“Of course!! I’ve never felt this lucky in my life!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was walking briskly through the upper halls of Pomefiore, hair and uniform immaculate as ever, when you stepped directly into his path.

“Vil,” you said, breathless and determined.

He arched a single, elegant eyebrow. “Yes, darling?”

Without answering, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a side hallway, then pushed open a door into one of the unused dressing rooms. The full-length mirrors and velvet furniture gave the room an intimate feel—one Vil would usually approve of.

“What exactly are we—mmph!”

You shut him up with your lips.

You kissed him firmly, again and again, ignoring his stunned stillness. His back lightly hit the vanity table, and your hands found his jaw, tilting his head as you kissed a path from his lips to his cheek to that spot right below his ear.

Vil sucked in a sharp breath.

“[Name]… this is hardly a—ah—suitable location…” he said, voice breathy despite himself.

You kissed down his neck, and he gripped the edge of the table hard enough for the wood to creak.

“…I’m trying to remain composed,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re ruining my lip gloss.”

You kissed him again, slower this time, tasting the faint berry gloss on your lips. “I’ll buy you another one,” you whispered.

His hands finally slid up your arms, resting on your waist. His expression softened, pride melting into fond exasperation.

“You’re so bold when you want to be,” he murmured, brushing his forehead against yours. “But you should know… if you keep kissing me like that, I might not let you leave this room for a while.”

Idia Shroud

You had to be sneaky with Idia—if you startled him too hard, he’d vanish into a puff of blue flame and digital pixels.

So when you saw him walking back from the library with headphones in and Ortho floating behind him, you waited until he was alone—just outside the server room in Ignihyde.

You pounced.

“AHHH—SYSTEM ERROR, WHAT THE—?!”

You yanked him into an empty tech room and closed the door behind you. Idia stumbled backward, hair flaring slightly blue with panic.

“W-Wait, are we being chased?! Is this a boss battle? Did you glitch through reality again—?”

You didn’t let him finish.

You kissed him. Right on his startled, slightly parted lips.

His brain blue-screened.

Idia’s body stiffened like a glitching NPC. You kissed him again, this time on the cheek, then again, trailing little kisses along his jawline. His hoodie bunched under your fingers as you leaned into him, holding him close, while his hands flailed in the air like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“M-M-M-M-Moe overload—emergency shutdown imminent—!!”

You giggled and pressed a softer kiss to the tip of his nose.

That seemed to reboot him. Slowly, his shaking arms wrapped around you, awkward at first, but growing tighter as you kept going. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Are you real? Like… for real real?”

“Very real,” you said, kissing him one more time.

He leaned into you then, forehead pressed to your shoulder, still flustered but clinging to you like you were the only stable thing in his world.

“…You’re OP,” he mumbled. “Totally broken character build. It’s unfair. Nerf girlfriend pls.”

Malleus Draconia

It was late evening, just after sundown, and you spotted Malleus walking alone through one of the lesser-used halls of Night Raven College—moonlight catching on his horns, his cape flowing behind him like royalty incarnate.

“Malleus!” you called, jogging up beside him.

He turned with a small smile, the kind that he reserved just for you. “Ah, my love. What fortune brings you to this path?”

Without warning, you grabbed his hand—cool, calloused, always gentle—and tugged him through the closest heavy oak door. The room was empty, dark except for the faint shimmer of magic-laced torches. Dusty furniture and a grand window gave it an old, castle-like feel. Perfect.

“Where are we going?” he asked, tilting his head. “Is there danger?”

You didn’t answer. You pushed him back gently against the wall and kissed him.

His eyes went wide, not in shock, but in the quiet kind of awe that only Malleus seemed capable of. You kissed his lips, then his cheek, then the pale stretch of skin along his neck. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, kissing him again and again—slow, soft, reverent.

“Dearest,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion, “your affection is… overwhelming.”

You kissed the tip of his jaw. “Is that a problem?”

“…Not in the slightest.”

His voice dropped low, velvety and deep, as he rested his forehead against yours. “You wield power greater than most—did you know? Not in magic, but in how effortlessly you undo me.”

You smiled and kissed him again, this time slower, and something in him finally gave way. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as his lips met yours again, more certain now, more claiming. His kisses were intense and unhurried—like time stopped for you and him alone.

“If this is what it means to be mortal,” he whispered between kisses, “then I never wish to be a god again.”

— "HIS COMPLETE DEVOTION" malleus draconia

SYNOPSIS: "Don't touch me! I have a lover!" - After accidentally getting hit in the head with a powerful spell, Malleus is left delirious and confused. You try to help him but he doesn't seem to recognize you.

Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

Tags: Fluff, Established relationship, Malleus is a loyal dragon, Reader is part of the gargoyle appreciation club, Mentions of nausea, He keeps a locket of you aww

A/N: This prompt/idea was requested by a friend!

WordCount: 800+ | 💌Masterlist | PART II HERE

Green lightning began to strike and forsake the grey sky. Every student on campus could hear the wind howling through the thick dripping rain, a sinking feeling of dread permanating through the atmosphere.

The aged concrete walls shook from a shrill scream, the anguished cry echoing out through the hundred chambers in the castle.

"YOUNG MASTER!" Sebek drove his fingers into his scalp, screaming as thick tears dribbled down his flushed face. From his reaction, you'd think he was the one who got hurt instead.

Lilia tutted and carefully inspected Malleus' head. The young prince was laying on the ground writhing in pain. Lillia pressed his thumb against the dragon's temple, examining the Fae's reaction.

Sebek and Silver surrounded the two, ensuring that no one could get past them. Malleus was in a vulnerable state right now, he had to be protected at all costs.

"The spell was quite powerful however it's not serious. Other than some temporary mental confusion, he should be fine." Lilia muttered, helping Malleus stand up. The young prince stumbled around for a bit, almost as if he was intoxicated.

"Malleus!" You threw the doors to the dorm open, running over to the group. It's only when you got closer did you notice your lover's spinning eyes, glazed over as he blinks at the blank concrete floors. Worried out of your mind, you rushed over to him.

"Tsunotarou! I heard what happened…are you okay?" The fae appeared a little puzzled. You stood before him and he fixed his gaze on you, confused and...disgusted?

With a hint of hesitance, you reached your hands up to cup his cheeks. Only to gasp when Malleus glowered and grasped onto your wrists, ripping your hands off of his face.

Silence fell over the room as he dropped his grip on your arms, allowing them to hang limply by your sides. Everyone gawked at Malleus as if he had just grown two heads.

Malleus? Malleus rejected your affection? The Malleus who waits outside your dorm an hour before classes just to walk you to school? The Malleus who once caused a week-long storm just because he couldn't sit next to you in class? Your Malleus?

You felt your heart sink. They say drunk words were sober thoughts. Did Malleus secretly despise you?

"Listen here-" Malleus snarled, his unfocused eyes flashing a luminous emerald green. The radiance and illumination hypnotizes you for a while. A kaleidoscope of green and blue swirling around the gems that were his eyes.

"No matter how alluring you look-you can't tempt me. I-" Malleus lurched forward, nearly falling over. You ran to catch him but he pushed you away, stepping back blindly. He raised a finger at you. "I-I already have a lover!"

"Yes-That's…me?" You blinked, confused out of your mind.

Malleus only scoffs at you, shakily taking a few steps towards the entrance. It was clear that his head still shook and ached from the spell's blow. Sebek was quick to stop him, holding Malleus steady. "Young Master! Where are you going?!"

"To my-my treasure. My darling prefect." Malleus slurred, leaning against Sebek for support. He continued his rambling. "It's Thursday- We have a club meeting."

"Tsuno-I mean-Malleus, today is Tuesday." You piped up, pressing a hand against his back. With shaky legs, he pushed Sebek off and turned to glare at you.

"Silence. It is not."

Lilia laughs hysterically, doubling over and grabbing onto his knees. Oh, this was comedy gold for him. Shaking his head at his father, Silver strode up to Malleus and placed his hand on the young prince's shoulder.

"Malleus, you're still delirious. Why don't you sit down."

Both Silver and Sebek started to guide the woozy fae onto the couch. You followed suit, taking a pillow and placing it under his head. He turned to face you, his head spinning, a loopy snarl and glare on his face.

"I...I already told you- I have a lover." He groans into his hands, nausea washing over him like waves.

The fae begins frantically rummaging through his pocket. He yanks out a little locket in the form of a heart, holding it up for you to look at. He hands it to you with an arrogant smirk on his face.

"See?"

"O-Oh?"Gently taking it into your hands, you flipped the metal cover over to see a picture of you inside.

It was a photo from your very first anniversary. You were wearing a flower crown made with roses Malleus grew himself, it was one of the many gifts he gave you that day.

Though only your head and neck could be seen in the picture since his coat had almost completely engulfed you. It was a chilly day and Malleus graciously lent you his coat after you had forgotten to wear one.

You stared at the photo fondly, shutting it close before handing the necklace back to the fae.

"Your partner must be lovely." You whisper softly and Malleus sighs, lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling lovingly.

"Oh. They are much more than that."

PART II | Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

a private meeting

summary: yuu makes a list of the top five cutest third years. the following conversation type of post: short fic characters: cater, trey, leona, rook, vil, idia mentioned, lilia, malleus additional info: romantic?? platonic?? idk, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, this is more for character interactions. and fun

"I'm sure you're all well aware of why we're here,"

The eight gentleman standing around the dark, candlelit room look between each other.

Leona yawns.

"How long is this gonna take, exactly? I was dragged outta bed for this,"

Vil glares. "Hush. I wanted to deal with this matter in the quietest manner possible, without disturbing the prefect. Sevens know what happens when your egos go unchecked,"

"Look who's talking,"

Another glare, but Vil chooses not to waste any more time.

"Two nights ago, the prefect hosted a slumber party for Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and our own Epel Felmier,"

"I remember that," Lilia says, rubbing his chin. "Sebek was invited, but refused in case someone attacked Malleus whilst he was away."

Malleus shakes his head.

"During this event, the prefect created a list of the top five "cutest third years", as we all know. And, to avoid any childish squabbling, I've gathered you all here to open it as an ensemble. Rook?"

A slim, folded sheet of notebook paper appears from the dark of Rook Hunt's pocket. He holds it up, as if presenting it to the heavens.

"Where did you even find that?" Trey asks, adjusting his glasses.

"Facile! It was buried under a stack of homework assignments in our dearest Trickster's bedroom," the blond says merrily.

"Logistically speaking, that's almost too easy. Are we sure it isn't a fake?" Ortho pipes up.

"Ortho?" Vil asks. "What are you doing here?"

The boy giggles in an electronic chime. "Idia is hiding under his covers and won't come out, so I'm here in his place!"

"...Alright,"

"I don't know what he's so nervous for," Vil goes on. "When I am already guaranteed to be in the first place slot."

Leona scoffs, kicking back with his feet on the table. Vil glares again.

"How rude,"

"He's not wrong. You are the most beautiful here..." a smile creeps up Lilia's face. "But, as I recall, you said cutest third years, not most beautiful. And if anyone is the cutest, it's me."

"Oh, spare me," Leona sighs. "Let's just get this over with. Open the damn thing."

"You're not the least bit curious, Leona?" the fae asks, batting his large eyes.

"Don't patronize me. And no, I'm not. I couldn't care less,"

Lilia smirks, but says nothing more on the matter.

He turns to his tablemate. "And what say you, Malleus?"

Every person in the room falls silent, and then turn to the prince sitting at the furthest corner of the table with his hands folded in front of him.

He hasn't shared a single thought all evening.

"...The contents of this list make no difference to me," he finally speaks. "My feelings towards the prefect will be unaffected."

Rook sets a hand over his heart. "Quelle beauté! I am moved! Not even the strongest of winds could make your friendship bow,"

Leona groans as if he's in agonizing pain.

"Open it!"

"Okay, hold on. Isn't this like, a major privacy violation?" Cater says. He doesn't sound eager to see the results, either.

"I would hate for someone to read my private thoughts to a room full of people."

"He may have a point. This was a list made between friends at a slumber party. Taking it out of that context could be disastrous," Trey agrees.

"There's a 96% chance this will end in conflict!" Ortho chimes in, merry as ever. Leona sighs.

"Can I just leave?"

"No," Vil snaps. "Rook, open it."

"Rook, don't,"

"Rook!"

The poor man observes the conflict slowly unraveling before him, and he sets the folded sheet of paper on the table.

"Now, now, do not squabble! Let this be a chance to celebrate our bonds with the lovely prefect!"

"I agree with Rook," Lilia smiles big. "We should all agree that no matter what is on that list, we'll leave it after tonight and move on."

Vil sighs. "Yes, yes. You're all right. We can't let what they wrote at a private slumber party affect our relationships with them,"

"No matter what, we leave them out of this. Agreed?"

Everyone in the room nods.

"Alright. Rook, read it,"

Rook reaches behind him, the anticipation building, and... is met with a cool wooden surface.

The note seems to have disappeared into thin air.

Before anyone can express their obvious confusion, an evil cackling pulls their attention to the doorway.

Vil gasps.

"Grim! Put that down!"

The small direbeast, now holding a crumpled piece of paper in his paw, smiles wickedly.

And then, to everyone's horror, he eats it whole.

Leona is the first to react, storming over and lifting Grim by the scruff of his neck. "Seriously?!"

"Fufufu. Looks like someone cared, after all," Lilia chuckles. Vil rolls his eyes.

"Hey! Not my fault you guys were so loud! You woke me up from my nap over a stupid list!" Grim says, crossing his arms.

A brief silence follows, and then a sigh. Leona drops him and he lands on his feet.

"Perhaps Grim is right," Ortho says. "Instead of worrying about the numerical grade the prefect assigns you, you should focus on the unique and special aspects of your individual relationships!"

"How eloquent!" Rook coos. "Oui, you are right! Sometimes it is best to let secrets remain secrets."

"Something about the way he says that tells me he already knows what it said," Leona grumbles.

"Ohoho. A fascinating mystery, non? Did I sneak a peek before tonight, or am I just as clueless as you?"

The prince rolls his eyes.

Vil sighs. "Ortho is right. Now I feel ridiculous for getting so worked up over what amounts to a joke at a slumber party,"

Everyone grows quiet, seemingly reflecting on themselves for the duration of the brief silence.

Lilia's giggles change the melancholic mood of the room.

"Perhaps Malleus had the right idea all along. It doesn't matter who the prefect thinks is more attractive; they're still a wonderful friend. How wise- I'm very proud,"

Malleus beams.

"Yeah yeah," Grim grumbles, turning to the door. "I didja a favor, anyway. None of you weirdos were number one."

He leaves, and he takes the peace and reflection with him.

Slowly, everyone turns to each other.

A Confession Through Written Words — Housewardens x gn! reader

summery: you confess through a love letter, it doesn't fail to warm his heart.

tw: none.

a/n: idk I was bored

wc: 1.6k (~200 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

You had put your all into the presentation of the letter. You tried to make your handwriting as neat as possible while spilling your feelings astutely so as to not overcloud the meaning or make it look like a joke. Perhaps you were overthinking the whole ordeal, but who wouldn’t when confessing your feelings? You had managed to slip the letter into his bag without him noticing. In fact, he wouldn’t find the pristine white letter until he was getting ready for bed. At first he was confused, he hadn’t recalled receiving a letter, but it was addressed to him, and he carefully opened it, making sure to not rip the rose sticker holding the envelope closed. Riddle wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t a meticulously written love letter from you. His heart rate sped up, his face burning a bright red once he got to the end. He could barely sleep that night, not with you running through his head. The next day he dutifully wrote his own letter as a reply, handing it to you without meeting your eyes. Open it once you’re alone, yeah? He doesn’t think he can handle your reaction even though you were the first to confess. 

❥ Leona Kingscholar

You weren’t sure how to approach Leona with your feelings. He tended to be a bit snarky and you were a bit sensitive about your feelings. You don’t think you could handle him dismissing you or making a rude comment in your moment of vulnerability. So what better way then to write a letter? You knew he wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t perfect, if anything he’d tease you for not saying it to his face, but you could handle that. After you rewrote the letter for the eleventh time, you decided it was good enough and you made your way to Leona’s room. He watched you lazily as you entered. You thought he was asleep, so you placed the letter on his nightstand before taking a seat on his bed. Curiosity ate at him, but he refrained from making any comments, using the guise of sleep to pull you into him so he could finally get some good rest. When you left, he took no time to rip open the letter, carelessly ripping the lion sticker in two. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, even though he was the best, it was still a surprise to read your genuine feelings for him. He won’t let you worry for long, tomorrow he’ll make sure you know that you're his herbivore. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

You had tried to confess to him before, but his suaveness had left you tongue tied everytime. Or when his suave facade crumbled into a genuine care…that left your mind reeling, unable to mutter how much he meant to you. So you wrote a letter, and even though writing how you felt was easier than speaking it…it still wasn’t easy to write. Your trashcan was filled with crumpled up papers with pencil marking scratched out. When you finally had a letter you deemed good enough, you tried to make it look as fancy as you could. Unfortunately, Floyd had snatched the letter the next day before you could even greet him. You watched him run away with genuine horror, hoping that he wouldn’t read it before Azul at the very least. Fortunately for you, Floyd held off on opening it, handing the letter to Azul with an eager smile. Jade watched on as well, somehow already aware of the predicament. Glaring at the two, Azul  opened it later when he was alone in the VIP of Monstro Lounge. He had recognized your handwriting right away, carefully thumbing the pearl sticker before opening it with a letter opener. Azul could barely get through the first sentence without becoming an overheated mess. He’s another one tossing and turning that night. Instead of blatantly stating his feelings out in the open, he offers you to go on a date so you know that he’s serious about you as well. 

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

You had tried to confess to him…many times. Every time you told him you loved him, he just smiled back and told you he loved you too…but you knew he didn’t understand you meant it romantically. Every hand hold, cheek kiss, hell, you both had cuddled multiple times and he never seemed to get that you were interested in him as more than just a friend! So you decided to write exactly how you felt, getting all your messy feelings out in the open. With how bubbly he was, you didn’t feel too awkward handing him the letter in person, only telling him to read it later when he’s alone. Unbeknownst to you…Kalim had almost lost your letter multiple times that day. Not that he doesn’t care for you! He’s just a bit of an air head that has too much on their mind. Please thank Jamil for hanging on to it, reminding Kalim to read it after dinner was over. When Kalim finally read the letter (after fawning over the adorable golden retriever sticker), he couldn’t contain his excitement. He almost ran straight to your dorm if it weren’t for Jamil blocking him. Expect multiple gifts the next day along with more affection than you thought was possible. Kalim needs to get his bouts of cute aggression out, and what better way than drowning you in jewels?

❥ Vil Schoenheit

As much as you adored Vil, he was a bit…intimidating. His lilac gaze could pierce through the toughest metal, but it could also melt the coldest heart. You had unsurprisingly found yourself falling for the star, but you couldn’t help but feel like a fan no matter how you thought approaching him with your feelings. If anything, the letter felt like the most cliche fan stereotype ever, and even though he called you a friend, you feared he’d take it the wrong way. So you decided a letter was the best bet, that way you didn’t have to see his reaction. Yet when you had tried to sneak the letter to him, it was out of your hands in the blink of an eye and you stared in horror as Rook offered it to Vil. At first, Vil thought it was fanmail, staring at it with slight disdain, but he opened it anyway, not caring how the crown sticker tore. He barely scanned over the letter until he read your name at the very end, eyes glancing up to see your terribly anxious expression. So he reread it, this time carefully scrutinizing over every word, and although a letter wasn’t exactly how he wanted you to confess, he still felt his heartbeat increase with every lovely feeling you felt towards him. Closing the letter, he watched fondly as you fidgeted, clearing his voice and demanding you to ask him on a date properly. 

❥ Idia Shroud

You had been secretly fawning over Idia for so long you felt like you were going to burst. You had wanted to confess to him for so long…but you feared that you’d break the poor man. So you decided to write him a letter…er more like a text. You weren’t sure if he’d even know how to open a letter… Poor, poor Idia. He nearly had five heart attacks when he saw your chat bubble appear for twenty minutes then disappear only to appear again. He tried to play his game, ignore the damned three dots that kept taunting him, but his eyes couldn’t stop trailing down to his phone. Do you know how many times you caused him to die? Oh boy, and when you did send it? The little blue heart at the end had nearly ended him before he even read a word! He had read and reread the text so many times you couldn’t even count, and don’t mind that he screenshotted it and saved it to a super secure private photo album so only he could see it. Don’t expect a reply. He’s too busy having a meltdown, hair burning a bright pink for the rest of the night. Do expect Ortho to ramble about how happy his brother got the night before, unsure of why but happy nonetheless. And when Ortho finds out why? Expect a text from Idia saying that he doesn’t mind your presence too much…yes Ortho forced him to say something back and yes that was him confirming that he likes you back.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Malleus was traditional to an extent, that was something anyone could tell. He also always had you feeling like you were living in a fantasy romance novel with the way he treated you. You hadn’t even thought of confessing your feelings in person, a letter seeming like a traditional and very Malleus adjacent confession. You tried your best to write with fancy curling letters…if you failed at that task…that's up to you. What stumped you was how to give it to him. In those old timey romance movies and novels they sent it through the mail…but you both lived on the same grounds. Handing it to him seemed a bit too forward, and you either didn’t trust or felt too embarrassed to ask his retainers to pass it to him. But you sucked it up and went to your safest option, Silver. Malleus was surprised to have a letter handed to him, another one to open it with a letter opener. He felt his breath hitch with each word you lovingly wrote, warmth blooming in his chest. Like the gentleman he is, he writes you a loving letter back (one that you can barely read with how loopy the cursive was), and it’s the most poetic thing you have ever read. Be prepared to cry at how much he loves you. 

need overblot boys with epel, and floyd with a reader that randomly lore drops as if they're an old dad like "yeah lol my old school had a shooting once....anyways *SNOREE*" and when asked they just agree and walk away and never elaborate whatsoever💀 if you feel uncomfortable feel free to delete or ignore‼️love ya pookie💥

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reader with a backstory

I got u 🫡🫡

summary: wacky reader lore type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

you find new ways to raise Riddle's blood pressure every day

little guy is worried enough as it is

you've already got your school work, taking care of Ramshackle, taking care of Grim, taking care of all the other freshmen, taking care of-

well... you get it

the last thing he needs is to hear another one of your stories

"oh, yeah, that's like the time I got stabbed"

"????? WHAT??"

what's entertaining to you and ADeuce is mortifying to Riddle

if you're not careful you'll end up sleeping on the floor in his room

where he can keep a close eye on you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you're like Leona's little court jester

and he takes you with him everywhere

it's not easy to get a genuine laugh out of him, after all

besides, what's so bad about a little dark humor? it's not like you died or anything

he knows you're a resilient little thing

and you seem to love telling him about "that time you crawled into a drainage pipe", anyway

you make him laugh; he likes you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul indulges you

his white noise machine stopped working last month and you make for excellent background ambience

so, he lets you talk yourself in circles about your school work, your friends, Grim, Grim again

and then you drop the most HEINOUS bombshells in the middle

"blah blah blah Grim, blah blah Crowley, blah blah, that one time I got lost in the woods for a day, blah blah-"

he loses his train of thought every time

now, Floyd is the complete opposite

he will hyperfocus on the most mundane details

and ignore the bombshells

will give you an, "oh, that's cool" to your ghost story but will find you the pair of socks you mentioned liking three months ago

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil is just fascinated by you

you as a person, of course

but also the fact that you're still alive

one night, he's explaining the reason he makes all of Kalim's food and you're like

"oh, yeah, I get it. I got mold poisoning once and hallucinated for a week"

?????

then you go right back to asking him about the recipe

sitting on the counter, as happy as could be

"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!!!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is used to this

he knows that look on your face

he will shush you with a finger to your lips before you even start

"don't tell me, I'm stressed enough as it is"

he's going to break out if you keep at it

he finds you quite... macabre

which is entertaining until he sees you going down a flight of stairs without holding onto the railing and remembers all those stories you'd told him

he's just... concerned for you, that's all

and he does NOT appreciate Epel for encouraging it

"tell us more about the time you fell down that hill into that pile of rocks, Prefect!"

:D

like a kid in a candy store

learning new Lore is like the highlight of his week

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"talk about having a high luck stat..."

Idia is more entertained than anything

he thought these kinds of things only happened in anime, but...

...there you are

it sounds like you experience more in a single month than he has in his whole life

and you know what?

GOOD

you can keep your freaky real-world experiences!

he'll just live vicariously through you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's been putting so much effort into learning and blending with human culture, and now here you are with your terrifying stories

you tell him in such earnest, too

you seem so... unbothered by it

perhaps humans are less fragile than he thought?

of course, he shouldn't have underestimated you in the first place :)!

then you come over for dinner one night

"hahah, yeah, last time I was at someone's house their grandma threw a lamp at my head and I got a concussion"

Silver and Sebek both go >_>

Lilia goes <_<

and then Malleus is there like, "ah, another fascinating tale :)"

Reckless Road Trips

𝖆/𝖓: since I did first years, why not write something with second and third years [coming soon] too? no romance once more btw

𝖙𝖜: none, usual nrc chaos

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: second years x reader

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 1144

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

The van swayed gently down the sun-soaked highway, packed with eight eccentric second-years and you crammed somewhere in the backseat between Jade and Floyd. It was meant to be a "relaxing getaway," something Azul had insisted would be good for your health and interpersonal development. You weren’t sure if being in a vehicle with this much raw chaos counted as relaxing.

Floyd’s legs were draped across both yours and Jade’s laps, a foot tapping idly to a playlist Kalim had made—an energetic mix of party music, pop, and oddly enough, frog sounds. Riddle had already protested twice. "We are not listening to amphibian mating calls!"

“Are we theeeeere yet~?” Floyd groaned dramatically.

“That’s the fifth time,” you muttered.

“Sixth,” Jade corrected pleasantly.

“Stop keeping track!” Azul called from the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity. “If anyone else asks that question, I’m cancelling the shaved ice.”

A beat.

“Are we there yet?” Kalim asked cheerfully.

Azul visibly died inside.

When you finally reached the beach, it was like a switch flipped. Everyone exploded out of the van, hauling towels and umbrellas like it was a timed race. Ruggie took off toward the water, yelling, “Last one in buys lunch!” before leaping straight into the waves.

You hung back a moment, stretching out sore limbs before grabbing a beach ball from the trunk.

“Hey Floyd,” you called, tossing it toward him. “Game?”

“Ooh~ Shrimpy wants to play?” Floyd’s grin spread wide. “Let’s see how long you last!”

The game started off easy. Light volleys, lots of laughter. You had just gotten into a nice rhythm when Floyd’s competitive instincts took over. His next spike sent the ball screaming across the sand.

“NO—!” you shouted.

Too late.

It slammed right into the back of Riddle’s head.

His ice cream went flying.

There was a moment of dead silence.

Floyd whistled innocently. “Oops~”

Riddle turned around, the picture of quiet rage. “FLOYD LEECH.”

Even the seagulls went quiet.

You doubled over laughing. Ruggie cackled from the shore. Kalim gasped, “Oh no! Riddle, I’ll buy you another!” while Jade said calmly, “You had to know that was going to happen.”

Later, you knelt near the tide line, carefully constructing a sandcastle with Kalim’s help. Jade occasionally offered eerie suggestions—“Add a trench for dramatic flair. Perhaps some bones?”—while you shaped towers with seashell windows. It was kind of nice, getting lost in the simple rhythm of sculpting.

But you had built it too close to the shore.

You realized it the second the wave came barreling in.

“No no no no—!”

Your castle crumbled in one powerful surge of water, reduced to a slurry of wet sand and disappointment.

“Nature is a harsh mistress,” Jamil said from a beach chair, sipping coconut water.

You glared. “I worked hard on that!”

He raised an eyebrow. “So does the tide.”

Azul walked over, shielding his eyes. “Everyone ready to head to the cabin?”

“Already?” you asked.

He gestured to a very grumpy Riddle, now coated in sand and scowling. “I think we’ve reached the ‘cut our losses’ part of the day.”

You expected a log cabin. Maybe something rustic with questionable plumbing.

What you got instead was luxury.

The glamping site Azul had booked looked like a forest resort—glass windows, warm wood paneling, a fire pit outside, and a kitchen that looked straight out of a magazine.

“...You rented this?” Riddle asked skeptically.

Azul adjusted his glasses. “I negotiated. Extensively.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruggie said, flopping onto one of the beanbags. “Bet it still cost more than all my groceries for a month.”

There was one small hiccup.

Only six bedrooms.

Which meant one room had to be shared.

“We’ll take it,” Jade offered calmly. “We already share a dorm room. The bunk bed arrangement won’t be awkward.”

Floyd threw an arm around his brother. “Jade snores like a kelpie! It’s like sleeping next to a drowning walrus.”

Jade smiled serenely. “At least I don’t talk in my sleep. ‘Mmm shrimp, don’t leave~’.”

You ended up paired with Kalim, who had somehow brought his own disco ball. He plugged it into the ceiling lamp, turned on music, and invited everyone to an impromptu dance party.

Jamil’s soul visibly left his body.

By the time the sun dipped below the trees, you were roasting marshmallows at the fire pit, wrapped in a borrowed hoodie, and nursing a cup of hot chocolate. Silver was already asleep beside you, Floyd was trying to toss popcorn into Riddle’s mouth (he missed, a lot), and Azul was casually checking stock charts on his tablet.

“This was... nice,” you said softly.

Azul didn’t look up. “I plan thoroughly.”

Ruggie raised a skewer. “To glamping!”

“To glamping!” the group echoed.

You thought that would be the end of it. But the next morning, Azul announced one final detour.

“There’s a secluded hot springs inn nearby. I already booked us a night.”

You blinked at him. “When did you do that?”

“Before the beach. I anticipated fatigue.”

“You mean this was the cooldown for the cooldown?” Riddle muttered.

Still, no one objected. The moment you arrived, any hesitation melted into the mountain mist. The inn was traditional and beautiful—wooden beams, soft lanterns, and the scent of mineral water drifting through the cool air.

“Only one spring?” Kalim asked.

“It’s mixed,” said the innkeeper with a smile. “It’s fully private tonight, so you have it all to yourselves.”

You shuffled toward the changing rooms with a towel clutched to your chest, cheeks already warm.

The outdoor bath was surreal. Steam rose into the night sky, stars twinkling above as warm water lapped gently at the stone edges. You slipped in with a sigh, letting your body melt.

“This is heaven,” you mumbled.

Until Floyd cannonballed in.

Water exploded over the edges.

Riddle screamed. Azul’s glasses fogged up. You got a face full of wave.

“FLOYD!”

“Hot soup time~!” Floyd sang, splashing around. “Mmm, shrimp stew!”

“Stop calling it that,” Jade muttered.

You sank lower in the water, shoulders shaking with laughter. Silver drifted in, practically asleep, and Kalim floated on his back, humming happily.

Ruggie was balancing rocks on your head.

Jamil was too tired to fight it.

You and Azul ended up side by side, staring up at the stars. He exhaled slowly, tension fading from his shoulders.

“You really went all out,” you said.

“I wanted something we’d remember.”

You bumped your knee lightly against his. “Mission accomplished.”

That night, after a second soak and way too many snacks, you curled up on a futon between Silver’s gentle snores and Kalim’s soft singing. Floyd had fallen asleep halfway through a horror story, and Riddle was still arguing with Jade about the proper way to wear a yukata.

You smiled.

Yeah. You could definitely get used to this.

credit to @enchanthings-a for divider

Plot: Read to find out :) Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al' Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, and Malleus Draconia + special platonic guest Warnings: Mentions of depressive themes and anxiety. Spoilers for TW main story. A/N: This is a doosy. I hope you like it. It might be one of my favorite works to date.

Difficult to notice, yet deadly if ignored. The smudge of black on Grim's magestone went unnoticed by many as the days at Night Raven College passed. Each as chaotic and entertaining to Grim as the last. Over time the spot grew. A dot turned into a speck, and the speck soon turned into a splotch. Which then became a streak, and finally a stain that screamed "Look at me! Notice Me! I am here!". It remained unseen, until an eerie sensation overtook our feline friend. One that sparked panic as his ability to cast magic dwindled - as if whatever was maintaining the stone was on the cusp of breaking.

By then it was too late.

Grim had no time to panic or think about what caused his magestone to sour. Neither did the Ramshackle prefect or any other student at Night Raven College.

Funny enough. The stress of yet another possible overblot occurring was enough for the last inch of purple to be overcome by darkness. Grim ran away from his friends in a panicked frenzy, afraid that they'll be hurt and scared for what pain he would feel. Arms yanked the school's magicless tactician out of harm's way - the prefect had solved many cases and would do so successfully again. They would save him.

Tension tight enough to suffocate hung in the air as students either prepared for battle or fled. All eyes watching Grim as he desperately tried to shake the blot out of his stone; yet, he never turned. No monster bleeding black ooze was in sight. Just a trembling cat.

Mass confusion overtook all as they looked between each other for answers.

"Looking for me?"

A monotone voice echoed from beyond the barricade of students. A voice many spoke to on a daily basis that normally sang with snarky quips and lovable anecdotes. Students barreled away from its direction as black ooze overtook the ground beneath them.

Screams fell to deaf ears as the the overblot manifestation crawled up their legs and encased those fleeing in a midnight chrysalis. Any who tried to fight received the same fate. It toyed with them mercilessly until they resigned themselves to their insignificance.

"Please stop running. It makes this much more difficult on me...but then again, when did that ever matter?"

Compared to other overblots, the prefect held no shadow. No presence. They stood idle - like a husk - as the blot wreaked havoc in their place. Lifeless eyes scoured a crowd of pleas and cries with no signs of feeling or mercy. Like they were a puppet.

Their eyes met his, and momentarily the darkness ceased its spread. As some students took the chance to run in the distance - they reach out a hand. His name stutters from their lips as a pitch-black tear fell to the floor.

"Riddle"

He gasps when you say his name. For a moment Riddle is caught off guard, and it's enough time for the ooze to begin crawling up his calf. His own magestone suffered greatly from trying to keep the dark magic at bay while aiding nearby students in their escape.

It's light flickers in his hand as he tries desperately to cast another warding spell. Alas, it was out of mana.

And Riddle is out of time.

He thought of his own overblot on occasion. Some parts were foggy, and others he could remember vividly enough to believe he was still there. Trapped in his own self-loathing. Scared. Angry. Vengeful.

Then there was you. Strong. Independent. Respected. You had merely been at his school for a few weeks and somehow managed to take charge of situations he could not begin to fathom. You saved him when he did not know he needed to be saved. Riddle envied it at the time. Wanted the ability to guide others and still be loved by them - like you.

At some point he no longer wanted to become you. He wanted to be with you. He was proud of your intelligence and always made sure you were aware that it was superior to many he knew.

He wonders what you are feeling. If you are aware like he was, or if you are in a slumber like the students you have captured. At least, he hopes that is what happened to them and you have not done any 'permanent' harm.

Riddle stops struggling when the ooze reaches his waist. He needs a new approach...your approach.

"MC...MC can you hear me?! You need to fight it! There is no logic in mass hysteria!," he screams above the chaos with clenched fists. Your eyes meet once again and Riddle sighs in relief. He may have a chance -

"I am not logical," you say calmly, and return to watching the chaos, "and I never want to be,"

The ooze stretches over his arms and in the distance he sees the remnants of his dorm succumb to the blot. His frustration overpowers his fleeting confusion at your words. Now red contrasts to black, as his face burns in anger.

"Clearly so! If you're going to behave so childishly!"

"Maybe. It will be over soon. Logic is unnecessary when there is nothing,"

"What's wrong with you?! Suddenly doing all this - what example are you setting for other students? You were a role-model to - "

"None. I was a role-model to none," the ooze halts abruptly at the top of Riddles neck and he strains his head away from it. You glare at him with clenched teeth, "I did not ask for their expectations. Since I cannot escape them or this place...I will be rid of them permanently,"

Your hands fly to fist at your head and your breaths become ragged. Riddle found the land mine he was looking for...and he greatly disliked the familiarity.

"Expectations are given to people worthy. You may not agree, but it is the truth. Every expectation you receive is determined by a bar that you have put into place. You are in control MC. You have always been in control," Riddle releases a breath as the ooze begins to recede to his shoulders.

You go quiet, and gaze down at the ink staining your hands in terror, "I failed everyone. I failed you," you cry, "I'm so so sorry,"

The ink recedes to Riddle's feet and he sprints to your side. He kneels and takes your hands in his. Around you, students escape as the blot begins to fade away.

"If anyone needs to apologize...it is I. Let it be known that I expect nothing of you other than your happiness. Even then, it is and always will be your choice..."

"Leona"

Leona tenses in place and his ears twitch. His guard is still on high alert, but his heart thrums in his chest at record breaking pace. For a brief moment, he heard your voice. Not the distorted mutilation coming from the blot...but your voice.

Weak. Fragile. Suffering.

His legs act alongside his head and Leona dodges the spike of ooze aimed for his wrist. His quick reflexes protect him from becoming trapped in whatever cocoon you were encasing other students in.

His first instinct is to use King's Roar...but doing so would hurt you in the process. There's no doubt in his mind that it's why you called for him. That...and one other reason. He knows you can handle it. You're strong. He's pointed out your admirable strength for a human on many occasions. From nearly fist-fighting a groom-seeking ghost, keeping up with his spell drive practices, lugging him across campus, to even outrunning the leech twins every other hour - your ability to take a hit was well known.

Even now. Leona did not predict that you could overblot, but your form does not surprise him in the slightest. If anyone was to reek with such raw power, it would be the one person on campus surviving through pure grit. Leona may have underestimated you in the beginning, but he knows better now.

"If you don't stop then I have no choice but to fight you! Is that what you want?! Because I don’t hold back. Not for you - not for anyone,” he threatens, yet it reaches no one. You don’t spare Leona a glace when he aims his wand at you, “Never thought you’d fall like this, prefect. Tsk. What a disappointment,”

Leona shoots a burst of magical energy your way, but it meets a wall of ooze. It molds around you in a protective barrier, blocking any attack and keeping others at a distance.

Brute force would not work. Yet it was all Leona could do in a situation with no tactical edge. No insult or snarky joke rewarded him with a response. You were merely toying with him - and it made him simmer in rage. As his mana quickly depletes, he begins to believe that ‘saving’ you is a lost cause.

“There was nowhere to ‘fall’ from. Gravity holds us in our place. You of all people should know this, Leona,” you lift an arm, and suddenly he’s pinned down and kneeling on the ground.

“The hell are you talking about?! You’ve gone insane - look at this place,”

“It’s not fun to live in denial Leona. Aren’t you tired of fighting a 'lost cause'? I know that I am…”

You approach and kneel down in front of him at eye level. A macabre underlaying in your movements as you sway in the sea of black - and it clicks.

Leona found his edge…and it burns. His stomach lurches knowing what he has to do. With all his strength he pulls his remaining mana to rip his arms from the ooze and grab your shoulders. Tightly. His claws dig into your skin and draw crimson.

“I will never give up,” he grits, “but I can reevaluate. I might not be first born but I’ll be damned if that stops me from getting what I want…and I was right to peg you an idiot if you're thinking otherwise,”

Your eyes narrow at his words, and suddenly every ounce of darkness in the area is pointed like sharp needles at Leona.

“Too bad you’ll die before-“

“Sure, like you have the gull to kill me? You haven’t given up either,” Leona speaks out confidently, “stronger than I am. You would never kill someone for personal gain…and you know it. Why else have you come this far, huh? To play mage? No, you’re doing it to live so quit throwing a fucking tantrum and grow up. Whatever it is that you want to do…,” he stands abruptly and you quickly pull the needles away - proving his point and he smirks.

“I’ll help you to do it, alright. So let everything go and only look my way,”

And you do. Leona catches you just as your consciousness gives out and all the miasma from the area slowly fades away. Not a scratch or sign of distress in sight….as if everything was a bad dream that NRC just awoke from. Leona picks you up and escapes the area quickly. Health now, theorizing after.

"Azul"

A shiver snakes down Azul's spine. Your voice hangs still in the air - clouding his mind and his eyes sting as he forgets to blink. He never pictured you begging. Not like the poor unfortunate souls he would ensnare with his contracts. Azul has heard you yell, he's seen you jump when startled and seen the color drain from your face when being scolded.

Yet, never desperate. Never terrified.

He doesn't know what to do. His magic is useless. Azul is useless...in the face of this. You.

Beautiful.

Even now. He finds you astonishing. The way you stand tall in a sea of black. He only sees you from behind yet even that feels like a forbidden pleasure. The miasma radiates from you like ocean waves on a calm evening. Your movements are fluid as you fall in sync with their flow and to Azul it's like you are dancing. Like an angelfish in the depths of the sea...you call to him.

Something cold and slimy wraps around his wrist in Azul's moment of weakness. It yanks him down and he's nearly dragged into a cocoon of black - almost. Luckily Professor Vargas is stronger. He grabs Azul by the shoulder and rips him out of the trap before demolishing it. Vargas' expression is steel as the blot retreats towards it's source...

You are reaching out in Azul's direction one moment, and in the next Vargas is standing protectively in front of him - blocking you from sight.

His professor yells, "Enough MC, fight me head on! I will protect these students with my-" and is blasted away before Azul can offer assistance. Just as he began to comprehend the situation...you overtook him once again.

A gust of air whips by and he squints. When his eyes open, you're a hairs length away from Azul's face - one move and your noses will touch.

Your hollow gaze bores into him, "Even in chaos, you won't look me in the eye. Your attention is always elsewhere," and his heart shudders.

He speaks without thinking, "My attention is never not on you," and he's completely forgotten about his likely injured teacher.

"Lies,"

"Truths," he breaths, "Even now. You are all I see," and he means it.

"You only look because I am now worthwhile," one of your hands slides up his shoulder and wraps around his bowtie, "I now have power to offer you. Would you like to make a contract?"

What was happening to him? Why...were the things he couldn't say days before slipping from his lips like butter.

His heart pounds at the offer. The power of an overblot at the reach of his fingertips...it's never been done before. If successful it would open doorways of new magical discoveries. Everyone would envy him-

and yet

'Azul,' your plea from earlier surfaces in his memory.

An offer has never disgusted him more. He cannot resist gagging at the thought..."Not on my life," he spits out in a haste.

You give no reaction to his distaste - or so he would think, if thick blot did not begin to curl between your bodies. Azul ignores the way it grips his clothes and steels himself.

"You do not need a contract to have me. You have always been - and will continue to be - my strength," he reaches to gently grab the hand around his neck, "this form is but a piece of you, yet I still cannot look away. You are everything,"

Insecurity. He doesn't know what could breed such a painful emotion in you - but from the way the world crumbles he must have assumed correctly.

You look away as the air begins to clear, and crystal tears prick the corners of your eyes.

Azul lifts his hands to your cheeks and brushes them away with his thumbs.

Beautiful.

"Kalim"

Quick on his feet, Kalim summons Oasis Maker to flush out some of the toxic mist spreading across the area. He falls into action like clockwork, guiding students out of the area and serving as a distraction until higher mages arrive. He is positive that the situation will be handled - except now you are not there to solve it.

Which isn't your fault. None of this is.

If anything, it's Kalim's fault. Which means he needs to work extra hard so that you don't blame yourself for anything. Which he knows you will do.

Because you're honest.

Which is something many people say about Kalim himself - they call it his fault. His 'defect'.

They're half-right. Kalim's honesty is not the same as yours. He chooses positivity and openness. You? It comes naturally. In ways that don't require a smile and energetic outlook on life. You are someone Kalim never has to second guess with - and that is a gift.

Your honesty is what Kalim loves the most about you. Your blunt nature and ability to stick with your gut. It is one of your biggest strengths...and he does not want you to lose it.

The way you called for him - knowing. You knew this overblot was coming yet said nothing. There was nothing that could have been done to stop it. Whatever you have buried beneath the surface - Kalim understands.

This image of you. This 'blemish'. It is your honesty. It’s your grimace every time someone comments on your “fortune” for getting free enrollment. It’s your relief when a harsh exam is over with, or when you lay in bed after a long day. Your excitement when Kalim takes you on a particularly adventurous ride on his flying carpet…your despair, when someone you care about is in trouble. It’s all of that wrapped in a bundle and put on display for everyone to see.

Kalim is scared. Not of you - but for you, because this emotionless monster wreaking havoc is what you perceive yourself as.

He feels guilty for not looking your way more than once. For leaving you to needlessly fight with the people you care about…but as the last student flees to safety he feels relief.

As he turns to face you with a grin - he feels happiness.

“Go on. Everyone’s gone now MC! Let it out!”

You turn away from fighting with your close friends. Ace and Deuce are weathered to dust and collapse on the floor. Rain still pours from Kalim’s signature spell and it mixes with the black miasma in puddles on the ground.

The two boys shout for Kalim to run - that you won’t see reason. He laughs and tells them not to worry before running towards you.

“Everyone’s safe now…you don’t have to worry anymore,” he says, and takes off his cardigan to lay over your shoulders. He adjusts it with a gentle smile and lifts his hand to wipe off a smear of ink from your cheek, “I hope you don’t catch a cold. I’ll take care of you, but I bet that wouldn’t be fun for you,”

“I was not worried,” you say, unblinking as he continues to fiddle with your garments, “the cold is irrelevant. As are you - flee you yellow pest,”

“Yes, you were,”

“No,”

“Yup!”

You slightly narrow your eyebrows at him, “and what makes you so certain?”

Your hand extends to the side at that moment, and ink lifts to encase the exhausted first years up to their necks, “would you like to join them?”

Kalim clutches the jacket tighter and ignores the panicked yapping of his friends.

“If that would make you happy, then sure! Take me! Just let them go…I don’t want you to be upset over this later,”

“And what makes you sure that there’s going to be a ‘later’?” You ask.

“Well…,” Kalim looks at his friends over your shoulder and then back to you, “because you know it too. Otherwise I’d be gone right now and so would everyone else. Deep down you’re getting ready to let go! And when you do we’ll all be ready to help you,”

Kalim pulls you into a tight hug. His arms wound over your shoulders and shield you from the rain above. A moment passes, and he feels your arms reach up around his back. Not once during the entire encounter did the ooze attack him. Even in a slumber of darkness you still held onto yourself. Just like Kalim knew you would.

“You really are a naïve idiot,” your voice - now full of sorrow - whispers in is ear, “I could have killed you,”

He hugs you tighter, “you could have, and I probably would have let you haha. Next time let’s talk - I’ll always be here for you,”

“I know. You always are,”

"Vil"

An explosion of grime blackens his uniform in a matter of seconds. It covers Vil from head to toe - soaking his hair, dampening his cape, and filling his boots. As students slip across the floor in an attempt to flee, Vil is halted in place by the sickening feeling of filth overtaking him.

Ever calm in the face of chaos, he pulls out a handkerchief to clean himself. The scene before him utterly dull and disinteresting.

"I expected more. Is this all that results from your spite?...honestly, prefect. At least put in some effort beyond this putrid slime,"

And he has you in his clutches. As he tosses the handkerchief over his shoulder, your head snaps robotically in his direction.

He eyes rake over you callously. Nit picking every little 'imperfection', from the bags underneath your eyes to the veins bulging out of your neck from strain. Vil's heels click against the ground as he approaches. Magic trickles from his fingertips and pushes away the barrier of blot that you've created. Effortlessly, he passes through it all.

At your feet kneels a new freshman from his dorm. A young man eyes him with a mix of fear and relief. Vil notes his shredded uniform and eyes bloodshot from crying - likely from begging for mercy.

He lifts his chin at the lad, "Run or fight. Pick now, Pomefiore students do not grovel," and the boy wastes no time escaping with a strained 'thank you'.

"He was not yours to free," your voice echoes. Airy and meaningless to Vil's ears and he watches as ooze captures the boy in a cocoon before he makes it ten paces away.

"It's hypocritical," Vil chuckles, "that you trap them like insects...or is it a metaphor? Do you feel caged, prefect?"

Vil raises a singular eyebrow, taunting you to respond. You do not, yet he expected such due to this 'artificial' state you've taken on.

"Of course you do. I certainly would...although I thought you more determined than resorting to an overblot's power to free yourself,"

Around Vil more people fall prey to your traps. Neither brute force or trickery allows them to leave the miasma's boarder, and he cannot help but feel a smidge of awe at the sight. To bottle the essence into a potion...it would be marvelous. The miracle of a magicless producing an overblot is astounding on it's own, yet the entire scenario is remarkable.

You are remarkable.

Arrows soar and he watches as Rook falls. The hunter turned prey - Rook becomes a bird locked away in a cage. Epel is not far behind him. A string of uncouth curses leaving the boy's lips when he looses his footing to the darkness.

Vil tuts, "If only I could make Epel submit so easily during mannerism lessons...perhaps I can learn from you yet MC,"

"Will you ever cease speaking?"

"First, rude," he sighs, "second, why not force me? People in an overblot state normally do not entertain chatter...what makes you special?"

You eye him, "I don't need to immobilize what's already broken," and he smirks. Of course you would say that of all things. Vil knows you better than you know yourself...he's observed up close and at a distance. Vil knows that you have doubts in him, in the school, in your friends, and in yourself the most.

but you cut no corners. Your dedication to being the 'perfect prefect' is something often admired...to where even your overblotted form is unconsciously maintaining it. Had you not kidnapped half the school in goo prison - none likely would notice an overblot walked the halls.

Until you spoke, at least. This gravelly undertone does not suit you...or does it?

"You may be correct," Vil raises a hand to his chin and pretends to think, "but you are not broken MC. Merely misguided. Your sheer determination has given you the strength to persevere, and I was convinced that it would be enough. I thought you and I to be similar,"

He reaches out and lays a steady hand on your shoulder. You look up at him through your eyelashes, and he takes it as a sign to reach down and hold your hand. His delicate fingers intertwine with yours.

"I was wrong. You are capable of more than brute force - so cage me. Otherwise you will have to hear my ramblings for all eternity. You won't, because you are more determined than I was to break through this spell...but go on and try. You have my cooperation,"

Your hand tightens around Vil's and for the first time since coming to your side - emotion is clear on your face.

Thick tears stream down your cheeks and Vil breaths out in relief.

"You're right...ugh, why are you always right ya pompous asshole," you say and bring his fingers to your forehead. A faint blush dusts Vil's cheeks and he smiles.

"I am the fairest, after all. My voice was bound to reach you eventually, my dear"

"Idia"

Oh no. Nononononon this can’t be happening. Not them. Anyone but them.

Great seven. He must have misheard amongst the screams or the reception in his dorm must have bugged out.

Whichever it is, Idia panics and yanks his earphones off of his head. Multiple monitors within his room show the catastrophe playing out from different angles. At the center is his main screen, which is black despite the video signal still being active. The moment his name left your lips a harpoon of blot shot at his tablet . Then there was nothing.

What the hell just happened? Idia thinks, a cold sweat dripping down his spine. His hair flares an anxious orange as he chews on his nails. The last thing he saw before dark was your face - void of expression yet morphed in pain. Then there was Ortho. His beloved little brother was trying to reach his tablet before everything snapped.

“Ah! What is this - the final boss?! Some kind of plot twist?! We think it’s all over just for a normie to blot? This is ridiculous-“

Despite the dark - Idia can hear. Muffled rustling echoes from the headset on the floor as he paces back and forth in his room. He knew there was a reason he felt so energized when you were around! Ortho said it was because he was …eugh…feeling things - but you were practically smothering him with your blot.

To energize Idia of all people…it must be strong. How the hell is he supposed to save you from that? No way!

"Big brother…please! We….need you!….MC….needs you!" Ortho's voice fades in and out but Idia can hear him clear enough. He halts in his tracks and clutches his head from stress. In one hand, he could stay in his room and let someone else handle you. In the other, he could leave the safety of his bedroom like an absolute idiot and try something. Anything - and pray it works.

He grabs a pillow and screams various curses into it. His hair flairs up into blood red from frustration and angry tears prick his eyes.

Curse him for being a total coward. Courage…bravery…they were your traits - not his. You stopped so many others and saved them - even him! A worthless wimp. You found a way and now he gets to live happily with his brother.

And despite it Idia can’t bring himself to return the favor. Who asked you to help him in the first place anyway!? Now he has a debt and … ugh, no. That’s not it. This isn’t about a debt and never was.

“Please! You’re the only one,” Ortho yells again and Idia can hear the sound of a battle. He looks at the security cameras to see blot covering the main building and slowly inching it’s way outwards. Not to long and it would reach him anyways…

He grabs his wand along with his uniform jacket, slips on his boots, and finds another one of his tablets. What’s he going to do? - Idia has a plan but it’s definitely something you’d take to a lvl 10 raid with friends and not a lvl 100 boss.

His heart pounds in his chest as he reaches the blot boarder. It flocks to him and he grimaces in disgust before barreling through - flickering through cctv feed on his tablet and making sure Ortho can stave you off until he arrives.

Ortho does, but the moment Idia enters the scene his brother falters. He’s swallowed up by blot right at the last second and Idia has no time to be frightened. The campus had become a sea of black cocoons by the time he arrived…and amidst them all you stood in silence. As if you were waiting for the chosen challenger…

“M-MC? What are y-you doing?! E-everyone’s d-d-dead?!”

“Not dead. Sleeping. Soon I will join them…as will you, Idia,” you say, and one of the cocoons opens to reveal his broken tablet. Idia’s hands shake when he realizes that there is no one else left.

It was up to him to save you. To save everyone and himself.

You begin to walk towards him and Idia takes steps back as you approach.

“Are you afraid of me, Idia? Oh - who am I kidding…you always have been. Worry not. There is nothing to be scared of here,”

The words you speak would normally comfort him - perhaps even leave Idia flustered and feeling protected.

But they’re cold. They might come from your lips but they lack meaning behind them and he can’t hear your voice. The way you say Idia’s name makes him shriek and hold his wand defensively.

He lets out a shaky breath, “I might be too dysfunctional for many things - but I’ve never been bested by a normie. Give back my brother!”

Idia quickly casts a spell -- and it hits! He fully expected you to dodge or for something to deflect it - but you’re struck in the chest. He jumps when you're sent flying backwards and into a wall. A sickening crunch accompanies the impact

He hurt you, and the realization costs him to shake harder. The thought of you resenting him for it makes bile rise to his throat -

"Shit- are you okay?? What kinda villain doesn't dodge an attack?" he yells but keeps his distance.

You pick yourself up effortlessly, and he's almost relieved - if not for the blood dripping from your forehead.

You lift two fingers to the cut, "That was an unexpected development," and bring them down to admire black ichor, "yet not unwelcome"

"Tell me, does it feel good? All this blot must be an endless source of mana...why not fight me? You know you want to,"

Idia always believed you were crazy, but this? What the hell were you feeling to become so creepy? He takes a step back and eyes you warily.

Idia grits his teeth, "The hell is wrong with you? I can't believe that I'm saying this but we're not in a game, idiot! I almost killed you!"

"Isn't it though?," you chuckle dryly, "it must be, considering how dangerous this world is. You agree, don't you? That hiding away is what's best when this," you gesture to yourself, "is what you find outside"

You've backed Idia into a corner with his own outlook on life as the ammo. He's lost for words. Unable to disagree since you are right - life outside is difficult.

"I-if I meant that then I wouldn't be here, now would I?" he smirks.

Yet you know better, "Truly? Then where were you before? I recall a young boy calling for his brother -for a 'savior' - long before you arrived"

You smile at the word 'savior,' yet it does not reach your eyes. In an instant you're in front of him, and Idia drop his wand in shock.

"Tell me - do you believe that you can 'save' me?," your lips point to frown, "do I even want to be saved?"

He goes quiet. That was definitely a villain monologue if he ever heard one...and if you currently weren't skirting death then he would cringe.

"Likely not," he whispers, "you have never needed to be saved. Out of everyone here MC, you are definitely the most meta character in this 'game,'"

You look down at him disinterested. Neither in his words or in how -for once- he is staving off your insults before they throw him into self-deprecation mode.

Idia gestures to the scene surrounding you, "I mean - just look at this! You've decimated half the school! I'd be crazy to think that sappy words and playing half-baked hero could stop this..." he places down the tablet in surrender and reaches out a shaking hand to grab your ankle. Blot curls from your body to his arm and he bites into his cheek to avoid shirking away, "...but I had to try. Normally when something bad happens - I wait for Ortho to step in. You too, you're so fearless that it's laughable,"

He glares up at you, his hair singing the floor surrounding him, "but this version of you took him away - and I know the real you is scared shitless. I may be spineless, but I'm not blind. You're freaking out more than I am at this mess, and I'm going to drag you back to fix it. I do not have the capacity to handle the social aftermath of being in the 'last survivor' trope, so let me save you, "

He pulls you down on top of him and secures his arms tightly around you. Idia doesn't let go through your squirming and the blot trying to worm it's way through his hold.

He can't save you alone, but he can make you save yourself. The crappy he speech was embarrassing enough so just give in already! Stop struggling and quit being so self-sacrificial. Be selfish for once and let him do something.

He longer he holds you, the less you struggle. The blot coating the area begins to clear as your body begins to tremble just as much as Idia's. Students begin to free themselves and he keeps you in a tight hold - for safe measure! Until someone comes to take you to the nurse! Definitely not because he can sense that you're crying, and is now conscious of the people staring at you both. He definitely is not trying to hide beneath you.

"Malleus"

All was silent. Malleus sat on the loveseat in his bedroom while reading a book to pass the time until nightfall. Then he would head over to Ramshackle dorm for his evening walk with his beloved. You would talk, and he would listen. The fireflies would light a path for you both to follow in the Forrest as he leads you by the hand. It is his favorite part of the day - these routine walks. Merely seeing your face brightens his mood, and having your attention solely on him is a kindness he does not deserve. He thanks whatever power that summoned you here every night before falling asleep.

The way you make idle chatter by asking about his day and take genuine interest in the mundane things he shares. Malleus' heart holds nothing but adoration for his caring sweetheart. He is attuned to every little movement, every mannerism and tick that sums you up.

Which is why his heart plummets and breath halts when your voice thrums in his ears. It was distant, but he would hear your call no matter how far.

What startles him most is the fear in your tone. You know well that he would allow no harm to befall you - ever. He has come to your aid countless times. During each you remain calm and ever the pacifist. Only asking him to support you in solving a problem.

This fear was new. He hadn't pondered it longer than a moment before Lilia burst into his bedroom.

"We have a problem. A big one," he says, with no trace of humor or playfulness in his voice.

Malleus all but throws the book at his bed and dashes out the door. With a poof, he vanishes.

Thunder and lightning echo across Night Raven College in his wake.

Malleus feels unsettled at the sight before him. He prepared for the worst - monsters, explosions, a psychopathic twink named after candy. He was ready to shield you from all evil and banish whatever made you to say his name in any tone other than bliss.

What was he to do, when faced with you? A corrupt, stomach-churning, inconceivably warped version of you...but still the person he cares for deeply? He cannot use force. That is for certain.

Then there is the matter of the students. In one corner a defenseless few cower together, as those braver stand guard to fight off figments of blot. He hears familiar voices in the distance - some cursing you and others pleading. They notice him and cry out in relief. That is a first - very few find his presence comforting.

"Malleus? How curious, that you'd join me before nightfall," you appear in front of him. Waves of miasma fly off you but it does not bother him in the slightest. As if he was infectious, the blot filters around him in waves to find its next victim.

His eyes visibly soften at what you've become, "MC...what should I do? How can I help you?"

"Help me? I am fine," you say, and he notes your dazed appearance. As if he was a figment of your imagination and you can see beyond him.

"No, you are not," he reaches out, "you are hurting. You would never dream of harming others. You are overcome by negative emotions,"

"I do not feel 'overcome' by anything. They are the ones who chose to run. I merely stopped them. If everyone would comply then I wouldn't have to hurt them," you slap his hand away and Malleus glowers, "they asked for this. You are as well, if you decide to oppose me,"

Retreating a few paces back, Malleus rethinks his approach. He cannot help you if you can't tell him what is wrong, but he cannot deduce what's wrong if you think he is 'opposing' you.

Malleus knows that he can end this with the snap of his fingers. It would save all of NRC's students, but in the process you could be hurt - and in his humble opinion, you have suffered enough. The mere memory of this incident will leave you in emotional pieces that he is more than willing to help collect. He cannot do the same for physical parts.

"I will not fight you," he says definitively, "but I will not leave you either. I promised to protect you and I do not go back on my word. Until the day you are willing to listen, I will wait for you,"

"and what if that day never comes to pass?"

"Then I will wait beyond forever. Until you give me a chance to repay the kindness you have shown me, and ensure nothing causes you pain ever again,"

Malleus is genuine despite the cries of his school mates and teachers. He has no doubts that you will see reason, be it within the next hour or in the next millennia. You will never be too far gone because he will be there to keep you within reach. He is willing to wait.

You clutch your hands at your sides, "Kindness? I have never been kind. Only desperate,"

Malleus steps forward and removes one of his gloves. He remains at a safe distance despite wanting to hold you in his arms. Instead, he repeats his earlier actions and holds out a hand.

"Desperation can take many forms. Anger, anxiety, impulsiveness, - but you have always acted in the interest of others. Even now, in this state, you believe your harmful actions are necessary to 'stop' people and admit not desiring to hurt them. You may not see it, but you are kind,"

You stare at his ungloved hand before laying your own on top of it. Normally your skin would be a welcome warmth against his reptilian temperature, but your touch is like ice. He lightly wraps his hand around yours, and steps forward to rest his chin on your head.

"I'm cruel,"

"No, you are caring,"

"I hate this place. I only help because I have to,"

"You dislike being trapped, yet cannot help but care for the people here,"

He lifts his hand behind your head, and pushes your face into the nape of his neck. The air begins to clear, and he smiles in relief.

"I might hurt you," you say softly, and clutch his sleeves.

"And I will forgive you,"

"Grim!"

In your last sane moments, you call for your friend. The little cat that's been by your side since the very beginning. He was scared to become a monster...but Grim knew deep down that you would save him. You're his best friend! You always bail him out of trouble.

So what should he do? Tell him MC...what can Grim do to help you?

He's scared. You both may make up a team, but he's always been the troublemaker while you are the intelligent one! He might brag about a test or two - but he can't make a plan! That's your job!

The floor shakes under his paws, and he loses his footing. The black magestone slips from his claws and is lost to the crowd. There is no strength in this little body. He normally runs into your arms when it's time to run.

Hands grab him by the scruff of his neck and Grim's hoisted in the air. He struggles against your grip, but is forced to look at your face.

Do you know how many suitors he has had to scare off because of that face? You're beautiful - which pisses Grim off because people keep trying to sway his henchman away from him.

Do you know how tiring that is? Protecting you from jerks and wannabe's. You don't have any family here to help. He owes them that much since you are HALF of the reason that Grim gets to be a student.

You've always been naïve when it came to other people...too honest. Which Grim took advantage of from time to time - but only he can do so! You are his meal ticket after all!

Your grip on his neck is tight enough to prevent him from escaping, but it doesn't hurt. As you look on at the people trying to fight - some to escape like wimps and others to 'save' you - Grim gives up. If you're determined to destroy the school...well, he can't stop you. No one can. You always find a way to make things work in your favor and Grim secretly thanked the Great Seven that you were not his enemy. Until now, that is. Now he's cursing them out heavily in his head.

The students fighting. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, - anyone and everyone who's become your friend. Some yell for you to let Grim go and others focus on trying to make you see reason all together. They can't get close.

If you weren't 'busy,' Grim knows that you'd be there with them. Being bossy as hell and taking charge. He wishes that he had that courage.

You finally move when everyone has fallen. With Grim still in your grasp, you walk across the sea of blot to admire your work. It's then that a glimmer catches Grim's eye, and your foot kicks the dropped magestone from before.

You reach down to pick it up - cautiously.

"Is this yours?" you say, and hold it up to him. Grim's eyes widen and he quickly snatches it in his paws.

Upon close inspection, he sees that he was mistaken before. In the far corner a sliver of purple stands out against the black stone. You could be saved.

Grim could stop this.

So he does what he does best, and clings to your side. His claws dig in to your waist and no matter how hard you pull he does not let go.

"It's my fault you're like this, right? I annoy ya and demand things all the time. I'll stop getting ya into trouble - I promise! I won't mess with your lovelife or steal your snacks anymore. I'll start studying for tests and help clean around the house! I'll even quit stealing your phone! Please just give me my friend back - "

Somewhere amidst his garbled sniveling - you stop pulling at him and instead begin to stroke his fur. His last resort resonated with the ounce of kindness that still remained. As you held Grim safely in your arms, the world shifted back to normal.