Being Reincarnated Into A New World As The Bad Guy Aka Villain/ess AU

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?"- Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Pt.1 !) (Pt.2 Here!) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. ALSO SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 7 IN SILVER Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. I had to break Diasomnia into 2 parts because I exceeded tumblr's character limit. I have favorites I guess :/

This man is a child masquerading as an adult. As in to say that he resists any illogical emotions until they bottle up and explode. The traditional pathway for finding a life partner typically follows: stranger -> acquaintance -> friend -> crush -> lover ->partner. You know, as it normally goes when bonds form.

Sebek....is not a textbook case in this regard. His path is a bit more customizable

stranger -> person he is forced to interact with -> acquaintance of Lord Malleus -> Acquaintance of Lord Malleus that Sebek approves of -> Friend that Lord Malleus approves of -> Repressed Crush -> Acquaintance that Sebek avoids at all costs -> Acknowledged crush -> Acknowledged crush that Lord Malleus approves of -> Respected individual with mitigated interactions -> Courting -> awkward situationship -> lover -> awkward situationship (with better communication) -> spouse

Enough said.

This process isn’t as complicated as it may seem on paper. While there are many steps, Sebek is fortunate enough to have people in his life willing to force commitments onto him. It also helps that he has blind trust in a select few. This makes him a bit naive and easily influenced. A boon in the right hands, and a bane in others.

In short, Sebek is emotionally constipated and only acts when there’s a driving force. Otherwise he just gets frustrated. This is extremely apparent at two stages: ‘repressed crush’ and ‘awkward situationship’. Scratch that. Three stages.

Beginning at ‘repressed crush’ - Sebek realizes that he likes you when you ask about how his training is going. He happened by your dorm during his morning jog, and was more than happy to go off on a tangent of the strict regimen developed to forge a perfect knight.

Except that’s not what you wanted to hear. You were more interested in his health and how he was enjoying himself rather than how his work was benefitting Malleus.

His heart fluttered, as if a shock of electricity thrummed through his body. Having never felt this before, Sebek mistakes it for a lapse in his strength and runs off at a much faster speed than before. Forget a light jog, he had enough energy to run 500 laps around the school track.

Don’t you get it human?! You were distracting him! His body was at rest too long. Now shoo, you’re hindering him from doing his duty.

He represses these budding romantic feelings and ‘misinterprets’ them as deviant behavior. He even goes so far as to blame it on ‘useless hormones’ and convinces himself that it’ll pass. He spares it no thought until his pining becomes apparent to everyone except for himself

Que the driving force. Despite Sebek believing otherwise, he does have friends and his entire love-life can be credited to their affectionate stupidity.

Simply put, Ace takes every chance to seamlessly flirt with you whenever Sebek is around. Not in a subtle way either - he's making some risky comments and trying to eat up every moment of your time. The others in your year are well aware of what he's doing too. Deuce thinks he's being unnecessary, but also agrees that Sebek needs a push so he lets it happen. Epel has his gripes with Sebek, but admires him for his manly tenacity. So he's 100% in support of giving an extra push and even tries to copy Ace. Except... yeah, he's pretty bad at flirting so he gives up after one try. Jack is against it at first, not wanting to hurt your feelings in the process but gets talked into it after seeing you get salty over Sebek being distant. Ortho, bless his innocent soul, thinks of it as a fun experiment. Lil guy just wants everyone to be happy.

You have no idea though, which is great because all of Ace's attempts fail hardcore. Sebek and his chivalrous ways (jealousy) won't stand by if you're being constantly bombarded with 'unwanted' romantic affections.

Nevermind that you don't seem to be taking Ace seriously at all. It is still not proper behavior! It would be a stain to his Lord's image if Sebek knowingly let Malleus' beloved friend endure such a hardship.

Every time Ace makes an attempt, Sebek shuts him down faster than you ever could. You have no idea how he does it, but Sebek is always around when it happens. The timing is honestly creepy....until you catch on to what's happening because the Ramshackle prefect isn't a dumdum.

"So....prefect, how about we go get dinner together tomorrow? Just you and me, what do ya say?" Ace slides into the seat to your right during breakfast. He leans in on his fist, eyeing you with a mischievous grin that crinkles the heart on his cheek. Just as he does, Sebek occupies the seat at your left and pushes Ace back with his palm.

"Do you ever rest?! They will do no such thing, now eat your meal before it runs cold. The chefs worked too hard for their efforts to be wasted by a delinquent!" Sebek answers on your behalf like clockwork. This event was not an uncommon sight to anyone, neither was Sebek failing to control his volume, so no other student paid the show any mind.

Normally you'd let them spit a few words at each other before returning to their own devices. Yet letting this continue just felt cruel, especially knowing that Ace was doing it to get a rise from your friend. Although Sebek wasn't innocent in the matter either

"Alright - Ace, would you knock it off? You don't even like me that way so quit messing with my head. I thought you were better than this," you say in between bites, side-eyeing your friend with a disapproving glare "And you!" you turn to Sebek, "I can answer for myself. Why do you even care? It's not like you're in charge of my love life. Just because someone wants to date me doesn't make them a delinquent...sheesh"

Why...why does he care? Sebek short circuits at your scolding, opening and closing his mouth to rebuttal yet coming up with nothing. Angered by his own turmoil, he grabs his meal and goes to sit with others from his dorm.

Stupid human. How dare you be so haughty and ungrateful? He was just protecting you from....from, what exactly? It's not like you going out with Ace would impact him in any way. It's not like you were in danger or upset with his advances. If anything. he was doing a good job at keeping your relationship professional for the sake of his liege!

Go ahead and date that childish hooligan for all he cares! Sebek won't be there to protect you when you're lost, or lend you a scarf on cold winter days. Ace can be the one to call you before bed every night, and keep your yearbook photo on his desk. Possibly keep his favorite candid photo as a bookmark for his diary, not that Sebek would know anyone that keeps a journal. He can have your birthday written in his calendar with a heart drawn around it, and have your picture in his wristwatch. He can set alarms to know when your classes end and walk you home. He can worry when you're sick and listen to your obnoxious prying....he can receive all your affections, and have your loyalty. Listen to your silly ramblings and receive those random 'i just thought of you' presents that Sebek always has a dilemma over what their purpose serves

You can be Ace's headache, and Sebek's heart will be lighter for it. These attachments he's formed were a lapse in judgement and will never be allowed again.

...

Sebek asks his lord for permission to court you. The next morning Malleus wakes to find the devotee bowed outside his bedroom, forehead attached to the floor and hands laid flat on the ground in reverence. Sebek proceeds to begin a long rant about how he's succumbed to his inner demons, and that he has sinned for letting another in his heart - Malleus cuts him off, happy to see love blossoming and interested to watch it all play out. He tells Sebek to take good care of you, before leaving. Meanwhile Sebek is sobbing at his lord's blessing

Once he's gathered himself, Sebek runs to your dorm and pounds on the door with fervor despite the early hour

Grim shakes you out of sleep, grumbling something about an 'annoying bastard' at the door before flopping back in bed. He shoves two pillows over his ears and tells you to fix the problem. That's when you hear the thumping, it's relentless and somehow sours your mood beyond what you thought possible. Mornings were not meant to exist on the weekend. So with an irritated groan, you slip on a robe over your pajamas and answer the door. A fist pauses in the air, moments from striking you. Sebek freezes momentarily, his body going ridged before coughing into his fist. A light blush dusts his cheeks.

“G-good morning, human. I apologize if I've disturbed your sleep, but I have an important announcement that cannot wait any longer" Sebeck studders, focusing on the door pane instead of your disheveled morning appearance.

“Alright" you sigh, resigning yourself to his whims, "what is it?"

Sebeck bows at the waist. "I am in love with you. Please accept my affections."

And so the motions continued on. A most unconventional pairing - possibly the hottest topic of the school year, in the words of Cater Diamond - was formed. Sebek was cautious of Ace at first, their previous spats leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. When he found out the truth, he was both appalled and grateful. So much that he scorned all his friends for weeks on end for pulling a stunt like that - but also thanking them. He apologizes for calling Ace a delinquent, and his heart changes a bit in response to their 'unique' display of care. Their intentions were good, and in the end it worked out. So he can pardon the indiscretion.

Life goes on until your relationship forms an 'awkward situationship'. The first time is brief. As it is with most cases of young love, the binding force that ties you to them crumbles. On earth it is highschool. In Twisted Wonderland it is NRC. Sebek knows where he's going - to serve the Draconias . The grey area is what you plan to do...because as much as his affections have grown, Sebek isn't willing to give up his dreams for you.

He's astonished when you decide to follow him to Briar Valley. He doesn't even have to breech the topic - arrangements were already being made without his input. You wouldn't be staying at the palace against his Lord's wishes. Instead a small cottage was built at a safe distance from the main city. Close enough for you to visit the castle, and far enough for you to feel comfortable and not out of place.

Seeing you taking his wants into consideration alters Sebek's perception of your relationship. You truly were lovers, and not a passing 'hormonal induced fling'. You loved him, and it's here when he truly begins to consider a forever. It was like the time when he first called your name, no longer calling you by 'prefect' or 'human'. He had done it many times in private, yet doing so to your face altered his brain chemistry. He loved the way your name rolled off his tongue, and the way your attention became his at the call.

Which leads us to the third and final major block-aid. Years have passed, and Sebek's well grown as an established knight for the Draconia family. He works alongside Silver, and many other comrades in arms. Everything is exactly as he dreamed. Malleus has become a beloved, strong king. Sebek is respected, and you are thriving as well. He didn't have much faith in your ability to last alone - it's not that he doubts your abilities, but he did doubt his people. When you first moved to Briar Valley Sebek was well aware that there were many like his past self - fae with a hatred for humans. He worried you would struggle to fit in.

Yet you surprised him. The tensions did exist against your kind, but you managed to card a space for yourself in Briar Valley with ease. You didn't even work in the palace, instead choosing to work towards becoming a children's teacher and work towards helping future generations of fae feel comfortable around humans.

His family adored you - with his mother in particular fawning over how Sebek fell down the same pipeline she did. His father offers you both advice on being an interspecies couple - and Sebek actually found himself listening.

Huh. Character growth. Is this what it's like to mature?

All is perfect, yet not. Sebek is forced to confront this when news travels that a human was attacked on their way to the palace. The dread that coursed through his veins was unlike anything Sebek's felt in his entire life. Under Malleus' rule, humans were slowly becoming more prevalent in Briar Valley. They hadn't mentioned your name specifically, but he jumped the gun.

Against his better judgement, Sebek abandons his post and rushed to the city's clinic. The injured human wasn't you, thank the seven, but the dread lingered. So he ran to the school you taught at and practically barged into your classroom. Luckily it was empty as the day was near end. Sebek hadn't known that yet still behaved recklessly.

He rushed to your side, talking faster than your brain could keep up with while checking over your body. He flipped topics like a teen trying to pick a college major - scolding you for worrying him, blubbering gibberish about how you'd no longer be allowed to walk alone, and myriad of other things.

Sebek was so shook, that he completely forgot about his knightly station. Malleus didn't punish him for abandoning his post. Not like it mattered, considering Sebek was already doing ample damage on his own. The realization hit him like a stone punch to the gut - there was a threat to his liege, and instead of focusing on apprehending the criminal he chose to find you.

Malleus' power or his dismissal of the matter meant little in the overall picture. Sebek failed. He's ashamed beyond belief.

and yet, he can't help but wonder what ight have been. What if you were the one attacked and he chose to stay? He would have failed you in that scenario.

He's surprised to find that the prospect his failure hurts just as much - if not more. His lord is powerful, and there are many to serve him. Your last moments could have been spent in a cold medical bed, surrounded by strangers. Fading away and taking Sebek's dreams with you.

............

Ah. Since when had that word become plural? His dream was always to serve Lord Malleus. Now there are more - he wants a family, and he wants to go to that play you were organizing with the valley's children next weekend. He wants to become a greater knight to protect the city that houses all the people he cares about. Again, plural. Lilia, Silver, his siblings and parents, all the human and fae who are loyal subjects to his most revered. You, and your decedents to come.

It's frightening. How valuable one's life can become. His always belonged to the Draconia bloodline to do with at they pleased - now Sebek's in pieces. Is he truly worthy of being a knight if he cannot give his whole heart?

He doesn't blame you for this. In his youth Sebek might have tossed your relationship aside in a heartbeat - that, or he might've demanded Malleus dismiss him and send him to repent in exile or whatever. Sebek has a problem with embellishing with dramatics.

BUT... he's more mature now. Mature enough to realize that maybe he can have his cake and eat it too.

So, he asks Lilia for advice. At this time the general merely lazes around the castle like a bat on the wall - acting as an advisor and observer. Surely he'd know what to do.

"There is nothing wrong with sharing a heart amongst many. If anything, the toughest decisions make us stronger. The more you have to lose, the stronger you will become to protect"

Preach it grandpappy. Lilia wants to see his grandkids so stop the slow burn already.

It's deja vu because Sebek wants to propose as quick as possible. Just like when he confessed, the man nearly runs to your home on impulse. You can thank Lilia for your proposal not taking place at 3am with your door being broke in two (Sebek is much stronger than he was in his teens, and sometimes miscalculates his strength).

Instead, Sebek finds himself anxiously clutching a ring in his pocket the following week. It was the night of a school play you were hosting - one he was looking forward to since you were so proud in your work. Ergo, Sebek felt pride as well by default.

How unfortunate that he can't focus on the show. With his mind reeling so much, it's taking all he has to sit quietly in the audience. His eyes follow your movements as you direct the kids, and for a brief moment you smile at him from the stage.

Zap. Alright. Don't clutch metal when you're a living thunderbolt. Duly noted. If anything the jolt of pain brings him back to reality.

When the play ends, and all the children have gone home with their families, he finds you back stage sweeping confetti. His plan was to congratulate you, and take you to a nice restaurant where he could do this properly.

Except he can't wait. When you turn around from putting the broom away, he's already taken a knee and holding the ring out. Those diligent gold iris' not pulling away for one moment, as he holds the ring out between two fingers and his other hand placed over his heart as if taking an oath.

"Before you say anything - You have sacrificed time and time again for my happiness - my efforts are insignificant in comparison. I have taken your patience for granted like a spoiled juvenile. There was a time when I found this kindness of yours unnecessary. I thought it a distraction - a test of my strength to fulfill my destiny. I see now that I was foolish”

Sebek pauses, grinding his teeth together in regret and anguish.

“I had not known fear until you. I have more to lose now than ever before. Last week I abandoned my post - my purpose- In that moment, all I could think about was if you’d been attacked, then my life would be over. You make me lose all sense of logic and reason…so I demand that you take responsibility and marry me!”

{A gold band with an obsidian base. Gold and silver flakes are sealed atop the obsidian plate using resin. Very practical, yet charming nonetheless. Humans typically wear matching bands, yes? Sebek sees no purpose in getting separate designs since the point is to show proof of partnership. He needs a practical shape that will not interfere with combat, yet also wants it to be an aesthetic choice. Sebek could care less about looks, but if he’s going to give you a ring then it will be the best possible option to match to your worth}

Silver is beautiful like still ocean waters. He's breathtaking - literally and figuratively. With the beauty of a fairytale prince, personality of a wise knight, and deadliness of the deep sea. It's easy to be sucked in when Silver seemingly has no flaws. So easy that at one point there were rumors of him being a living doll, created by the fae to be a perfect solider.

These perceptions all rely on his outward appearance: the knight in shining armor. Albeit so, being so perfect almost makes him unnoticeable. Compared to his rowdy peers with quirks and notable personalities - Silver truly is a doll. Like the complacent child praised for being more mature than their siblings. He is as easily forgotten as he is admired.

Some would say that this is a flaw in itself - because no one is naturally perfect. No one is so complacent and calm at birth. It's simply a desirable flaw. One that hurts him, yet has ben praised by others.

Silver is strong. Silver is diligent. Silver is beautiful. Silver is breathtaking and yet not the showstopper - like gold. Gold brings warmth while silver is cold. Imperfections in gold give it character, and can be seen as art. Imperfections in silver are seen as unsightly scratches.

Silver knows this, yet doesn't want to be gold. He doesn't deserve to be gold.

Silver doesn't deserve anything. He has already taken so much simply by living. He has a world to be grateful for, and not enough time to repay his debts.

He is content being Silver - if he could then he'd be copper. Lesser. Yet he is Silver, a reminder of the blood he carries.

He will remain unremarkable yet dedicated. He will dedicate everything to his family and friends - do whatever he can to break free of his sleeping curse and help others. He will give until he cannot give anymore. Then he will give more, to repay all he has received.

....For as much as he is content with this life, Silver still envies gold.

You are beautiful like a new dawn. Ushering in each day with a vibrant display that commands attention. People instinctively admire you despite the risk of hurting their eyes. You heal the world naturally, and help others simply by existing. People take you for granted, because inevitably the moon will rise, and the cold will inevitably return.

You were bathed in golden light. This Silver noticed the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

Silver envies gold.

........

You envy Silver. His calm, his family, his dedication despite being limited by his crippling drowsiness. Out of the students from Diasomnia, he was the one you lingered towards more often than not. The freshmen revered him for his skills, and he was a true gentle soul. You at first couldn't believe that he was Lilia's son - how did such a kind boy come from a rambunctious tease? Revelations of his past brought much to light, and now you couldn't think of him being anyone else.

Silver was loved like the first snowfall. He had a family that loved him dearly, no matter how short his time with them would be. He was raised to bring happiness to others, and protect their hearts using his demure temperament.

Silver was modest, and silver glistened when you'd expect him to the least. As the wind caressed his hair during an afternoon siesta, or sparks lit in his eyes while swinging his sword. How the horses nuzzle his side after equestrian practice, showing full trust and affection. Even in the sweat dripping from his brow, shining as he easily finishes a set of push ups.

Yet nothing struck your heart more than the melancholy he'd emit when no one was looking. How quickly he'd fade into the background, only popping in when necessary or if someone gave him note. In these moments Silver gleamed brilliantly, yet a shadow put out his shine.

You thought the melancholy inviting. It felt so natural, so real. Except you believed it balanced dangerously between despair and serene. The larger question being which side would he evidently fall towards.

.........

Silver admires gold.

He couldn't stop the pull. He just couldn't. Not with how you seemingly watch him when no one else does. Who wouldn't feel special? With the way you take note of things he normally wouldn't think of, and recklessly delve into helping others with no regard for yourself. Whether you desire the trouble is beyond him - the matter is that you see every issue through. There isn't a soul who doesn't know of the ramshackle prefect.

Perhaps this is his torment to endure. To get a taste for what he could have been, and willingly be tied to it.

Silver stares into a vanity mirror, his expression neutral despite the growing emotions inside. A slightly tattered sheet is tied around his neck like a bib, covering his front and part of his back. A shiver runs down his spine as you comb through his hair, deftly trimming the edges with a pair of kitchen scissors with the precision of a professional. A shiver runs down his spine every time your fingers linger against his scalp, either from tucking stray strands or combing through layers with your fingertips.

Your expression is stern, eyes intensely focused as you cut around his ear, afraid to nick him in the process. He finds the expression adorable yet bites his tongue. Silver couldn't think those thoughts. Not when you offered to do this out of the kindness of your heart.

Nonetheless, his heart thrums. If it were possible he'd think the organ about to pop out at any moment.

"Finished!" you smile in satisfaction and tussle Silver's soft locks for good measure. In one fell swoop, you undo the knot around his neck and pull the makeshift apron off of him. Silver nods, a slight smile teasing the edge of his lips. He stands from the chair and steps over any hair on the floor, reaching for the broom to clean before you could think to. "Thank you. I no longer need to schedule with a barber. This will save much time," In truth he had no intentions for a haircut. You were the one to notice how his bangs hindered his vision, and offered to help. Silver couldn't bring himself to deny your kindness. "You really like it? Hehe. Y'know, maybe I should start a shop on campus? I only started doing this since there aren't any affordable salons....maybe with it I can finally afford to fix the guest room!" you cheer and prattle on about all the different possibilities. Occasionally you'll ask for Silver's input, or even give an off hand compliment about how he was the perfect 'test subject'. Your company is intoxicating, he realizes. Talking with you is as easy as drinking water. Before Silver realizes, night has fallen and you've fallen asleep on the couch. Despite his better judgement, he finds himself wandering the Ramshackle door. He compulsively cleans up the mess you'd both left behind during his visit, doing the dishes from dinner and rearranging things here and there. As he does so, Silver notes all the little improvements around the dorm. It feels more like a home than a school building. Then again you do live alone. He wonders how often you host visitors, and if you unknowingly ensnared them just as you've done to him. He covers your shoulders with a blanket and steps outside under the moonlight.

It’s cold.

...............

You wake up the following day to find all the windows shut, your living room clean, and a warm blanket covering your shoulders. Your eyes peer around for silver, yet turn up empty.

Of course. Silver has a dorm to return to and people that would miss him if he returned late.

Shuffling around the silent dorm, the rickey old floorboards creek underneath your weight. In manufactured motions, you brew a cup of tea and pour it into the only well-used cup from the cabinet.

As your cup brews, you sit at the table with the blanket still clutched tight over your shoulders.

The tea goes cold, yet you are warm.

................

Silver loves gold.

but silver and gold don't mix. The question always is: silver or gold? When deciding a piece of jewelry to match your skin tone, people will ask 'silver or gold'? The metals are not meant to mix because they clash. It's an outfit catastrophe.

Yet, Silver cannot help but wonder. As he lays with his head in your lap and the sun and silence coaxing him to slumber - what if an outfit existed to compliment both silver and gold?

"Silver..are you sleeping again?" you tap his cheek with one hand, and his eyes open instinctively. Despite his drowsiness he will always look for you. Yet right now he's never regretted the magnetic pull more. With the sun casting a golden overcast, you peer down at him from above with tender eyes typically reserved for one's child. Your glow is breathtaking, and he cannot help the sinking feeling in his stomach that he is unworthy. With such gentle hands combing across his scalp and eyes that look upon him so tenderly - he is afraid to steal your warmth. And yet… "You are beautiful," Silver lets it slip, his hand reaching to brush against your jaw as if under a spell. He feels unnervingly calm. Not in his usual way, where he is constantly observing and playing a game of mental chess. This is a true calm, and he knows now that this is a point of no return.

Silver is beautiful like a still ocean. You are beautiful like the rising sun. When combined, a perfect image is formed just waiting for an artist to stumble upon it.

Against his wishes, the world has granted the child of dawn another gift. The gift of true love. 'True love's kiss will break the curse' and while it is childish to believe so in this case, Silver does so wholeheartedly.

When with you, the days pass like minutes. He wants nothing more than to forgo need for sleep, if only to work harder towards becoming a man worthy.

Silver envies gold for it's effortless demand for love, yet he no longer wants to be gold. He no longer wishes he were born copper.

Gold loves silver, so Silver he will be.

And with time, both Silver and Gold will be ground to dust regardless.

He thinks of this on a winter evening while holding a ring up into the moonlight. It's cold outside, yet he doesn't mind. The chill atop his nose does nothing but tinge it a lovely rosy color.

He looks through the windowpane into a home masquerading as a school building. His reflection is familiar yet changing rapidly in comparison to his family. The years have aged him, yet not by much. Silver is stronger, his soft jaw a bit sharper. His bangs have grown long again, it would soon be time for a cut. Perhaps he'd enlist a 'barber' after relocating back to the castle in briar valley.

Inside you sit at the couch, sipping from a well-used mug with Grim on your lap and watching cartoons. Silver's bag rests on the armchair, unzipped with nightly necessities spilling out the side. A slightly newer baby blue mug sits on the coffee table, with steam evaporating into the air as it waits to be used.

Silver smiles, walking towards the door and walking inside. Heat warms his cheeks and he is calm.

"I know I am unworthy of you, the thought plagues me to this very moment. Yet I cannot help but love you - like wishing on a star yet knowing deep in the depths of your heart that miracles are made not granted. I've received many, so I would know. My father gifted me life through love - and with you I understand how it is possible. I cannot imagine life without you. I promise this, I will cherish you and protect you for as long as you allow it. Would you marry me?"

Months later a ceremony is held in a secluded forest, in the yard of a cottage where a child first learned love. As an adult, he joins his most precious in matrimony, offering his sword to be sworn faithful.

You are beautiful like the first breech of daylight - and for once, Silver is happy to be a man of dawn.

Silver and gold.

Silver and gold.

Everyone wishes for silver and gold.

How do you measure it's worth?

Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.

{A ring forged from a silver band, gold leaf embellishments, and a moss agate core. Enough said.}

---

idk if its okay

but can I request for the tapis rouge boyos (vil, azul, jamil, ace) with a reader who gets hit on by a well known celebrity who has a reputation for being a playboy.

thank youuu

ACE, JAMIL, AZUL AND VIL X READER

Where a famous playboy actor wants to flirt with you in Tapis Rouge

How would guys react if, at the Vil's Red Carpet Cadets event, a famous actor with dark intentions approached you to hit on you?

I put Zane as the default name, if there is a Zane reading this, don't be offended😭 You don't need to have played the event to read the one-shot, I hope you enjoy it <3

Maquillaville was packed with rich, famous people who—according to Ace—were annoyingly full of themselves. He wasn't really used to this kind of fancy event, but he played it off well with his cocky grin and bold style. In his own way, he looked great.

You were chatting with a few guests when someone Ace couldn't ignore walked in.

Model, actor, and even film director. He had that fake-perfect smile and a dating history that probably broke some kind of record. Tall, tanned, and smooth-talking, he zoned in on you like a predator the second he saw you.

"Sorry to interrupt," "Zane" said with a charming smirk, "but your smile is brighter than the lights in this place. How about I buy you a drink… or better yet, take you out to dinner tomorrow?"

Ace stopped chewing his fancy canapé. He turned his head slowly, like he'd just heard the funniest joke ever.

"A drink? Seriously? Bro, do you think you're in some rom-com?"

Zane blinked at him, confused. “And you are…?”

Ace slid in next to you, his hand on your hip, flashing his most smug smile, though his eyes were sharp.

"The boyfriend. The only one who can make them smile like that without copy-pasting lines from Google."

Zane chuckled. "Well, lucky you, man. No harm in a compliment—"

“Sure, sure,” Ace said, crossing his arms.

"But there's a difference between a compliment and drooling all over my partner. If you want attention that bad, try flirting with a mirror. Bet it'll respond better."

Zane rolled his eyes and walked off in annoyance.

Once he was out of sight, you turned to Ace, one eyebrow raised.

“Jealous?”

“Jealous?!” Ace spun toward you, visibly offended.

"That wasn't jealousy! That was common sense! The guy was talking like you were a character in some cheesy pickup scene! And you laughed at one of his jokes! Like—seriously!?"

You laughed.

“Oh, Ace…”

He clicked his tongue, but his grin gave him away. He leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Look, I don't care if you're the center of attention. Honestly, I love it. Let the whole world stare… just so they know exactly who you're with—"

His voice dropped to a murmur against your ear.

“—and who they’ll never be.”

Then he pulled back, smirking wider.

“And if that C-list actor tries flirting again, I swear I'm going to stuff his ego in a box and send it back with a bow.”

Jamil was at your side, impeccable. Although he tried to appear calm, he kept scanning every corner of the room… especially whoever looked at you for too long.

And then he saw it.

Internationally acclaimed actor and singer, known as much for his musical hits as for his romantic history. He was the kind of person who turned every interview into an opportunity to flirt and every gala into a hunt.

He approached you with that well-rehearsed smile of his, champagne glass in hand, his eyes shining with that invasive interest.

"I didn't know stars walked this red carpet," he said, scanning you from head to toe. "Do you have a date for after the event?"

Before you could answer, you felt Jamil's firm presence at your side. His smile was barely perceptible, and his dark eyes, fixed on him.

"I don't think you heard correctly," he said calmly. "They're with me."

Zane laughed sarcastically, never taking his eyes off you.

"Oh, I thought you were a stylish bodyguard. I didn't know you were the… boyfriend?"

Jamil took a step forward, placing himself completely between you and him, like a protective shadow.

"I'll tell you this only once. I don't know what kind of games you usually play with your 'conquests,' but if you want to keep your reputation from falling further, I suggest you back off now."

He raised an eyebrow, still defiant.

"And if I don't?"

Jamil smiled with disturbing slowness.

"Then I'll make you understand. And believe me, I know exactly how to do it without ruining your image… although I wouldn't mind that in the least."

There was a moment of tension. He, perhaps for the first time in a long time, felt insecure around someone. And he left.

You looked at Jamil, somewhat impressed.

"Are you always so calm when you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jamil sighed, taking your hand.

"I'm not jealous. I'm irritated. Because that guy dared to look at you like a trophy."

He turned to you, his expression softer.

"And you're not a trophy. You're someone I chose, and who chose me. I don't need to shout it… but I won't let anyone dare touch what I respect."

Every flashbulb seemed to follow you as you walked beside Vil, so perfect it outshone even the biggest stars. The whole world felt like a runway, and you, at his side, were part of the spectacle.

You were used to receiving stares, but this time you felt a particularly insistent one.

"Do you know him?"

Vil whispered near your ear, without taking his eyes off a certain famous actor who was approaching.

It was an international star known for his leading man roles… and for his many love scandals. Vil pursed his lips with the elegance of someone who knew perfectly well who this man was and how little he liked him.

"Only by sight…" you replied, a little uncomfortable as you noticed the actor coming straight toward you.

"Then don't stare at him so much." Vil murmured with a charming smile, but his eyes were sharp.

The actor arrived and, as if he had no idea who Vil was (which was impossible), offered you his hand.

"I didn't expect to see someone so charming tonight. Have we met? Because if not, I'd love to change that."

Vil took a subtle step, standing half in front of you. His face, still sporting a polite smile, was tense like a perfectly placed mask.

"Funny, I thought charm wasn't enough when it came to respect," he said, in that tone of his as polished as liquid poison.

"My partner doesn't usually fall for such cheap tricks, Mr. Zane."

The actor laughed, as if he didn't take the hint.

"A couple? What a shame… Although that's never been an obstacle in romantic movies," he joked, winking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Vil was quicker. He took your hand and entwined it with his, raising his chin

"This isn't a movie. And if you think you can turn my relationship into just another chapter in your "red carpet romances," you're sorely mistaken."

The actor seemed amused by the reaction, but seeing Vil's sharp gaze with pride, jealousy, and elegance, he simply raised his hands.

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so committed, Schoenheit. Lucky for you. And for you too."

He winked at you with a mischievous smile before walking away.

The air seemed to have cooled a couple of degrees.

Vil turned to you, still frowning slightly.

"I warn you, that man is like cheap perfume: strong at first, but in the end, only an unpleasant aftertaste."

"Are you jealous?" You asked with a soft smile.

Vil stared at you, then sighed, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in your attire.

"No. I'm forewarned. Because I value you. And I won't let someone like him touch you with even the hint of an intention."

He leaned in elegantly, his lips brushing the line of your jaw, just enough for you to feel it only for yourself.

"You're too precious to be trifled with. And if anyone tries… they'll have to face me."

The hair, his thin glasses, and that brown suit with subtle pinstripes gave him an air of sophistication that contrasted with his inner nerves whenever someone approached you.

You'd been walking through with him, just chatting, when a tall man with an easy smile and a foreign accent approached you.

"Are you the person everyone is whispering is stealing the event tonight? My name is Zane Duclair but you can call me Zane. Although I'd prefer it if you called me later."

He winked at you.

Azul blinked. He smiled, but his fingers trembled slightly as he gripped your hand.

"Zane Duclair… the actor with three public breakups and five harassment lawsuits… charming track record," he murmured.

Zane gave a carefree laugh, as if everything was slipping away.

"Oh, all in the past. Tonight I'm only interested in this beautiful person," he said, taking your hand without permission. "Would you do me the pleasure of dinner after the gala?"

Before you could respond, Azul placed a hand on your shoulder. His smile was still there, but his eyes were pure ice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your attempt at 'conquest,' Zane, but my companion already has plans with me tonight. And they're non-negotiable."

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"And who are you? Their manager?"

Azul let out a short, almost mocking laugh.

"No, I'm a bit more complicated than that. I'm the person who knows their every taste, every gesture, every look. And also the person who can't stand it when someone with a questionable reputation tries to fish in waters that don't belong to him."

Zane looked offended, but Azul stepped forward, still keeping his voice polite.

"And if you insist, I can present you with a complete list of legal clauses regarding harassment and non-consensual advances. I'm sure your lawyers will be able to read between the lines."

Zane left, visibly irritated, and Azul took your arm to lead you away, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't expect someone like him to approach me like that."

Azul shook his head.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault there are men who confuse charisma with entitlement. But if he approaches you again… I won't need contracts."

He glanced at you, lowering his voice.

"You are valuable. I will not allow anyone to see you as something they can buy or conquer. Because you are already… firmly committed to me."

---

Trash Novel Chronicles: My Knight is Too Loyal || Sebek Zigvolt

You wake up as the villainess in a novel that had to be written as a joke. The heroine is trying to ruin your life, but if you refuse to acknowledge her, then it’s not happening. Right? …Right??

It doesn't help that your knight, Sebek, is annoyingly endearing.

Series Masterlist

You were finally done.

After a grueling week of unpacking, assembling furniture that came with instructions written in an eldritch language, and resisting the urge to commit arson when you realized your kitchen had exactly one electrical outlet, your new apartment was finally livable. Spacious, well-lit, and with an actual window that didn’t face another building? A true luxury.

With a sigh of contentment, you set your trusty roomba loose to clean up the dust bunnies while you kicked back with your favorite pastime—reading an absolutely garbage webnovel.

This particular one had come highly recommended in the “so bad it’s good” category, and hoo boy, did it deliver.

The plot, as far as you could tell, was this:

Prince Malleus (overpowered second male lead) was best friends with the villainess (actually cool).

Sebek, loyal knight, was also sworn to protect the villainess. He liked her. They were childhood friends. He was ride or die for her.

Enter the heroine, who spawned out of nowhere, latched onto Malleus, and immediately decided that she needed Sebek’s loyalty so she could get closer to him.

She then proceeded to sabotage the villainess at every turn, and somehow no one thought this was weird.

The villainess, kept fighting back—until she got poisoned on Sebek’s watch.

Sebek, devastated, exiled himself in disgrace.

And then the Duke of the North (where did he come from???) married the heroine.

You had to put your phone down because you were WHEEZING.

How. HOW???

How was this woman out here killing the prince's best friend and still pulling a wedding out of it?? Who was writing this? Why did Sebek go into self-imposed exile when the obvious answer was to punt the heroine into the sun???

You wiped a tear from your eye, clutching your stomach. "Exiled himself in disgrace—oh my god, bro, what are you doing—"

Feeling the desperate need for a snack to recover from this literary war crime, you got up and made your way to the kitchen.

At that moment, your roomba—your once-trusted ally in the battle against dust—made a choice.

It bumped into the precariously stacked pile of moving boxes you had yet to sort through.

You turned just in time to see your doom.

A full avalanche of books, kitchenware, and your entire collection of novelty mugs came crashing down on you.

Your last thought before the world faded to black?

"Should’ve never trusted a roomba."

There were several ways you expected to wake up. A soft ray of sunlight filtering through your curtains? Sure. The soothing sound of birds chirping? Ideal. Maybe even a hangover if past-you made bad decisions? Understandable.

What you did not expect was to be jolted out of unconsciousness by the auditory equivalent of an angry airhorn.

“LORD MALLEUS, SHE'S STILL UNCONSCIOUS—PERHAPS SHE HAS FALLEN INTO AN ETERNAL SLUMBER FROM WHICH SHE WILL NEVER—!!!”

“Sebek,” another voice interrupted, eerily calm in comparison. “It will be fine.”

Sebek?

Like. The Sebek?

Your eyes snapped open like a possessed doll in a horror movie, and standing in front of you were none other than—drumroll please—Malleus Draconia and Sebek Zigvolt, looking like they had been ripped straight out of that godawful webnovel.

Sebek was vibrating with fury, looking a split second away from detonating like a nuclear warhead. Malleus, meanwhile, seemed vaguely relieved that you were awake.

Your brain struggled to reboot.

You looked down. Fancy dress? Check. Lace gloves? Check. Suspiciously villainous vibes? Check.

Oh no.

OH NO.

You were the villainess.

Malleus, in his infinite patience, took your absolutely deranged expression as a cue to explain, “The heroine tripped you, and you lost consciousness.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You covered your face with your hands. “So now I have to deal with that dumbass?”

Sebek immediately whipped out his glove, preparing to slap someone into another dimension. “THIS INSOLENCE CANNOT STAND. I SHALL CHALLENGE HER TO A DUEL AND—”

“Sebek, no.”

“—VANQUISH HER FOR DARING TO—”

“Sebek. Put the glove down.”

“—BESMIRCH YOUR HONOR, MY LADY—”

“Sebek. No.”

Malleus, amused, simply observed as if watching an entertaining stage play. Probably because his solution would be to turn the heroine into a very apologetic pile of ashes.

Sebek begrudgingly reabsorbed his rage (for now), but he was still seething.

Malleus, after ensuring you were probably not about to die, excused himself and left the room. Sebek remained, arms crossed, radiating enough protective energy to function as a personal bodyguard and a security alarm.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Sebek, from now on, I’m just going to ignore her.”

Sebek visibly short-circuited.

“You—you're just going to let this blatant disrespect slide???”

“Yes.”

“But—”

“Yes.”

He looked like he had been personally betrayed by the laws of honor and decency, but after a long moment, he reluctantly agreed. Probably because you had the final say in this.

As soon as he left the room, you immediately face-planted into your pillow and let out the most guttural, despairing scream of your life.

Then, with great suffering, you dragged yourself up, because it was officially time to make a game plan to survive this absolute trash novel.

You did not want to go to this tea party.

In fact, if given the choice between enduring this or being launched via medieval trebuchet into the ocean, you would’ve chosen the ocean. At least drowning would’ve been fast.

But no. Your father insisted.

Something about “maintaining your standing,” and “showing the nobility that you are still strong,” and “not letting some lowborn upstart make a fool of you.”

As if the heroine had any power over you besides the supernatural ability to generate plot conveniences. As if you weren’t already suffering enough in this stupid novel, trying to survive a romance plotline with all the grace of a cat thrown into a bathtub.

And thus, you found yourself seated at an expensive table, sipping lukewarm tea, pretending to be interested in whatever the hell the noble ladies were talking about while resisting the urge to flip the entire table over and walk out.

To make matters worse, Sebek was having an existential crisis.

Not that he’d admit it, of course. But the way he was standing, practically vibrating with tension, scanning the tea party like a very aggressive meerkat—yeah. It was bad.

Sebek was on edge.

At any given moment, his gaze would dart from one thing to another, as if expecting a chandelier to drop on your head, a poisoned biscuit to be slipped onto your plate, or a rogue assassin to emerge from the hedges wielding a butter knife.

You finally had enough.

Turning toward him, you gripped his shoulders. Firmly.

“Sebek.”

His eyes snapped to you.

“Buddy.” You gave him a little shake. “Friend. You need to chill.”

“I AM PERFECTLY COMPOSED—”

Shake, shake. “Sebek. Chill.”

Sebek blinked. For the first time in history, he shut his mouth.

And then—oddly enough—you saw pink.

Like, an actual blush. A faint, barely-there dusting of color across his cheeks, the kind you’d associate with a lovestruck noble maiden, not a half-fae knight who could probably break your spine with his bare hands.

For a moment, you wondered if he was overheating. Should you dunk him in ice water?

But miraculously, Sebek actually calmed down.

At least, he stopped looking like he was about to tackle a waiter for breathing too close to you. That was progress.

And just when you thought you could finally coast through the rest of this miserable tea party in peace—

You saw her.

The Heroine.

She was across the garden, standing under a carefully curated arrangement of roses, twirling a delicate teacup in her dainty hands, looking exactly as picturesque as a main character should.

And she was batting her eyelashes at Sebek.

Like a lot.

Like some kind of malfunctioning Victorian doll trying to send Morse code with her eyelids.

Sebek, for his part, was slowly backing away. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with her.

Unfortunately, his retreat only seemed to embolden the heroine further. As if she had mistaken his disgust for shyness.

Sebek Zigzagged.

She Zigzagged.

Sebek took a sharp left.

She matched him, too fast, like an NPC with broken pathing.

And that’s when you decided enough was enough.

With the most subtle movement possible, you lifted a hand and motioned for him to come to you.

Sebek sprinted.

Like, full-speed, knocking over at least one butler in the process sprinted. By the time he reached you, he was breathing hard, eyes wide like he had just escaped something truly horrifying.

“Sebek,” you said, voice casual, “Stick by my side.”

"UNDERSTOOD," he immediately responded, standing directly next to you like a sentient stone wall.

And thus began the worst tea party of the heroine’s life.

For months, the heroine had followed the same battle strategy.

She’d make small, calculated jabs at you—little insults hidden under layers of fake concern, “Oh, you look rather pale today, are you unwell?” or “That color looks so… unique on you! Not many would be bold enough to wear it!”

The old villainess would always take the bait.

She’d snap back, argue, cause a scene. And in the process, the heroine would look like the poor, innocent victim just trying her best to be kind.

But you?

You ignored her.

And that? That was unacceptable.

The first attempt was a comment about your shoes.

She tilted her head, voice sickly sweet. “Oh, those shoes are… interesting. Are they custom-made?”

You blinked.

That was it. Just blinked.

Nothing more.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you turned to Sebek and pointed at the cake.

"Sebek, do you want some cake?"

“OF COURSE—”

The heroine twitched.

The second attempt was a jab at your hair.

She giggled, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh dear, your hair looks a little tangled today! Perhaps you should try this new serum I discovered—”

You did not react.

Instead, you casually picked up a sugar cube, inspected it like it was the most fascinating thing in existence, and dropped it into your tea.

Then you slowly turned away.

Like she was scenery.

Like she was part of the background.

The heroine’s eye twitched.

Then came the third and final straw.

She physically stood in your path.

Like, full-on NPC blocking a hallway in a video game levels of obstructive.

Waiting.

Wanting you to react.

You did not.

You simply stepped to the left and walked around her.

As if she were a particularly annoying potted plant.

That was it.

That was the moment.

The moment she realized you were not playing her game.

And she SNAPPED.

In a last-ditch effort, she actually grabbed at your dress like a cranky toddler in a tantrum. Unfortunately for her, you were faster.

With all the grace of a trained assassin, you sidestepped her so effortlessly that she nearly tripped forward. For one horrifying second, she flailed—arms windmilling—before catching herself.

Then, with a furious huff, she turned bright red, grabbed her skirts, and stormed out of the tea party.

Absolutely. Defeated.

The entire garden was dead silent.

Then, softly, Sebek cleared his throat.

“…Does this mean I can have another slice of cake?”

You took a victorious sip of your tea.

+1 point for you.

This was a mistake. A grave, sweaty mistake.

Sebek, in all his knightly wisdom, had decided that you needed to learn self-defense. That was fine in theory. In practice?

You were dying.

It had started simple—stance, grip, footwork. Except your stance was wobbly, your grip was weak, and your footwork consisted of tripping over absolutely nothing .

Sebek, ever the determined instructor, refused to give up on you.

“Again!” he barked, adjusting your posture for the hundredth time. “You must hold the blade firmly!”

You tried. You really did. But the moment he stepped back, the sword dipped dangerously in your grasp like it was actively trying to escape you.

Sebek sighed through his nose. “You need to engage your core!”

“Sebek,” you panted, struggling to lift the sword back up. “I have a core. It just doesn’t want to engage.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose like a disappointed tutor watching their pupil fail basic math.

“Again.”

You half-heartedly swung the sword. It wobbled like a particularly useless noodle.

Sebek looked physically pained.

After several more embarrassing attempts—including a particularly tragic one where you almost dropped the sword on your own foot—you finally gave up.

You collapsed onto the ground, dramatically splaying out in the dirt like a knight who had perished not in battle, but in sheer spiritual defeat.

“I can’t do this,” you groaned, flopping an arm over your face. “I’m not built for the knight life.”

Sebek’s shadow loomed over you, exasperated. “You’re giving up already?”

“Yes.”

“Unacceptable. A true warrior never surrenders!”

“Well, I’m not a warrior, Sebek. I am a delicate aristocrat. My hobbies include drinking tea and not getting stabbed.”

Sebek crossed his arms, preparing to argue—but before he could launch into a speech about honor and duty and the sacred art of not dying, you simply muttered:

“That’s why you have to be my knight forever.”

The complaints instantly stopped.

Sebek didn’t say a word.

You assumed he had accepted your logic.

You didn’t see the way his back straightened slightly, or the way his expression softened into something oddly pleased. You definitely didn’t catch the way a smug, satisfied little smile flickered across his face—like a knight who had just secured his lifelong oath without even trying.

Instead, you remained on the ground, still dramatically sprawled out, waiting for him to launch into another lecture.

But nothing came.

“…Sebek?”

“Hmph.” He turned, suddenly far too content to argue. “If that is the case, then I suppose there’s no need to force you into training.”

You squinted up at him. “Wait. That’s it? You’re giving up?”

“I am merely accepting my duty,” he said smoothly. “After all, a knight must always protect their charge.”

You stared.

Suspicious.

Sebek was never this agreeable.

But, ultimately, you were too tired to question it.

With a sigh of relief, you let yourself fully relax into the grass, already looking forward to a nap.

Meanwhile, Sebek stood guard over you, looking far too smug for someone who had just lost an argument.

This was supposed to be a normal afternoon.

A nice, quiet, peaceful moment of watching Sebek ride his horse like he was leading an army into battle while Silver sat on his, perfectly relaxed, looking like the human embodiment of a soft exhale.

Meanwhile, to your right, Malleus and Lilia were having a debate that was growing increasingly unhinged.

"I'm telling you, Malleus," Lilia said with the confidence of a man who had never once been stopped from committing a crime. "If you want someone, you simply steal them away! That’s romance!"

Malleus, who had the power to obliterate reality with a flick of his wrist, rubbed his temples like a deeply tired office worker. "Lilia, that is not romance. That is abduction."

Lilia waved him off like he was swatting at a fly. "Semantics."

You turned your head just in time to see Malleus pinching the bridge of his nose, which was deeply funny because what did he even have to be stressed about? He was practically untouchable. And yet, somehow, Lilia was succeeding in emotionally exhausting him.

You had no idea how to contribute to this conversation, so you simply accepted that your afternoon would be full of crimes against logic.

But then Lilia’s sharp, ancient gaze zeroed in on you like a sniper locking onto a target.

"So," he said smoothly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Have you decided who you'll take to the ball?"

You blinked.

The ball? Oh. Right. That was a thing.

You mulled it over for a second, tapping your fingers against your knee.

Logically, Sebek was already glued to your side at all times. He was practically your own personal security alarm, complete with flashing lights, blaring sirens, and the sheer, undying volume of a man who had never whispered in his entire life.

Taking him would be easy.

"I'll probably take Sebek," you said casually.

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

Lilia’s smile widened.

Not just any smile. A knowing smile. The kind that said, I have seen civilizations rise and fall, and yet nothing amuses me more than whatever is about to happen next.

Malleus, previously neutral, now looked deeply, deeply intrigued.

You squinted at them. "Why are you both looking at me like I'm a stray dog that just solved a math problem?"

Before you could demand answers, Sebek and Silver came back.

And Lilia—menace incarnate—immediately turned to Sebek and declared, with the utmost delight:

"Sebek! You've been chosen as their escort for the ball!"

Silver looked politely interested. Sebek—

Sebek crashed.

Like he hit an invisible wall.

For a second, he just stood there, expression frozen in a mix of shock, honor, and the sheer terror of being handed a social situation he wasn’t prepared for.

Then, in a grand act of buffering, he stiffened, clenched his fists, and proclaimed with all the force of a man declaring war:

"OF COURSE! AS YOUR LOYAL KNIGHT, IT IS ONLY NATURAL THAT I ACCOMPANY YOU!"

And then—before you could so much as blink—he turned on his heel and stomped off, as if he had just been given an urgent mission from Malleus himself.

The moment he was gone, you turned back to the three remaining culprits—only to find all of them looking at you like you were the underdog in a sports movie who had just pulled off a game-winning shot.

Lilia’s grin was downright diabolical.

Malleus was observing you like a scientist who had just discovered a new species.

Silver nodded, as if he had been let in on a joke you weren’t privy to.

Your eye twitched. "Okay. WHAT."

Lilia clapped you on the back like a proud father. "Oh, don’t mind us," he said airily. "We’re simply excited to see how this unfolds!"

Malleus inclined his head. "Indeed. It will be most… fascinating."

Silver hummed in agreement, eyes twinkling with something dangerously close to amusement.

You stared.

Sebek was still stomping off in the distance, probably preparing himself for battle against an imaginary threat.

Meanwhile, these three looked like they had just bet on a winning horse.

You were so bored.

As someone who had once lived in the glorious era of internet, memes, and instant entertainment, being isekai’d into a medieval fantasy novel was actual hell.

Your choices for passing the time were:

Sitting at a tea party listening to Lady Whatever gossip about how her second cousin’s neighbor allegedly married his horse (scandalous).

Shopping, which involved pretending to care about embroidery while avoiding getting guilt-tripped into buying a hat the size of a carriage wheel.

But today? Today was different.

There was a theater performance. And you were going.

Sebek, of course, was accompanying you, because you weren’t allowed to go anywhere without your personal security system.

The two of you arrived, found your seats, and settled in as the play began.

It was a forbidden romance between a noblewoman and her loyal knight.

You squinted.

That was it? That was the forbidden part?

What, was it slightly inconvenient for them to date? Were they going to act like this was the most tragic love story of all time when the biggest obstacle was mild disapproval?

You were expecting a real problem—an ancient family feud, a cursed bloodline, maybe even a dragon kidnapping someone for fun.

But no. It was just a noble and her knight, staring deeply into each other’s eyes while the orchestra swelled dramatically.

You side-eyed Sebek, about to make a snide comment.

And that’s when you noticed. Sebek was sweating.

His jaw was clenched. His hands were gripping the arms of his seat like the very concept of upholstery had personally insulted him.

And most importantly?

He was actively avoiding looking at you.

On stage, the knight fell to one knee, passionately declaring, “My lady, I have sworn to protect you—but in truth, my heart has belonged to you from the moment we met.”

Sebek’s grip on his seat tightened.

You turned back to the stage, more confused now.

The noblewoman gasped, placing a delicate hand on her chest. “Sir Knight, I—!”

Cue dramatic embrace. Cue Sebek looking like he was experiencing an existential crisis in real time.

For the next twenty minutes, Sebek refused to so much as glance in your direction.

The show ended with a completely unnecessary death scene (the knight got stabbed protecting the noblewoman from a bandit with the world’s worst aim), and as soon as the curtains fell, Sebek practically launched himself out of his seat.

You walked out together, the evening air cool against your skin.

Sebek, still refusing to look at you, was marching forward with the kind of stiff, overly formal movements that meant his brain was short-circuiting.

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you good?"

"I am perfectly fine," he said, a little too quickly.

You shrugged, brushing it off. Sebek being Sebek. He was always like this.

You didn’t notice how his hands twitched at his sides.

Or how, for one painfully fleeting moment during the play, he had imagined what it would be like—just once—to take your hand, without the excuse of duty.

But only Sebek and the dark theater would ever know that.

Festivals were supposed to be fun.

Supposed to be.

But for Sebek, this was nothing short of a battlefield.

The night had started normally enough. Malleus, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you had all arrived together, the festival in full swing around you. Lanterns glowed softly in the trees, music played from all corners of the square, and the air was thick with the smell of food—grilled meats, sweet pastries, roasted nuts. It was the perfect evening for a carefree stroll.

And then, suspiciously quickly, things took a turn.

“Ah,” Lilia suddenly said, snapping his fingers. “I just remembered—I must go investigate the historical significance of festival games.”

Silver, who had been mid-bite into a fried pastry, blinked. “What?”

Lilia was already gone.

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed, I must also depart. There are… matters of great importance I must attend to.”

You stared at him. “You’re about to go stare at gargoyles, aren’t you?”

Malleus did not dignify this with an answer.

Then came Silver’s turn. He at least tried to make it convincing.

“I, um—” He paused, brain clearly short-circuiting. “I have to—”

Sebek, ever the loyal soldier, stepped forward. “SILVER, WHEREVER YOU GO, WE SHALL—”

Silver immediately put a hand on Sebek’s shoulder. “No. You both stay.”

Sebek froze.

Suspicion bloomed in his sharp green eyes. “Why?”

Silver looked at you. Then back at Sebek. Then at you again. And then—like a father setting his son off into the world—he simply patted Sebek’s shoulder and said, “Have fun.”

Then he left.

Just like that, you and Sebek were alone.

You turned to Sebek, shrugged, and grabbed his hand. “Alright then! Let’s go have fun.”

Sebek ascended into a new state of panic.

One: You Held His Hand.

His hand.

Which was now holding your hand.

He was a knight. A protector. His hand had wielded swords, raised shields, sworn loyalty—

His hand had never done this.

“W-Wait, I—!”

You, completely oblivious to the fact that you were literally ruining him, simply smiled. “Come on, let’s get food first!”

And just like that, he was dragged into the festival.

Two: You Fed Him.

Sebek had prepared for many things in life.

Betrayal? Yes. Combat? Absolutely. The burden of responsibility? Without question.

But he had not prepared for you pressing a warm pastry into his hands and saying, “Try this! It’s really good.”

He stared at it like it was an enemy.

“I—this is unnecessary! I should be watching for threats, not—”

Then you, with absolutely zero hesitation, took a bite from your own pastry, hummed thoughtfully, and then just—just held it up to his mouth.

Sebek froze.

“…What,” he said, voice dangerously unstable, “are you doing?”

“Letting you try mine.”

Unacceptable.

UNACCEPTABLE.

This was wrong. You were a noble, he was your knight. His duty was to protect you, not to—to—

To have feelings.

To want things.

But you were still holding the pastry up, completely unaware of the sheer war happening in his mind.

So, with the slow hesitation of a man walking into a death trap, Sebek leaned down and took a small, precise bite.

…It was delicious.

…This was still unacceptable.

“See?” you said brightly, taking another bite yourself. “Tastes better when you share.”

Sebek almost dropped dead on the spot.

Three: The Smile.

Oh, that smile.

You were leading him from stall to stall, still holding his hand, still treating this like a perfectly normal outing and not the absolute nightmare it was for his fragile, suffering heart.

And every time you turned back to him—every time you laughed at something ridiculous, or smiled when he grumbled about stall vendors trying to scam you, or simply looked at him with that casual, easy warmth—

Something in him broke.

Not in a bad way. But absolutely in a way that would jeopardize his purpose. In the way that made him want to 1v1 the entire world just to make sure you always smiled like that.

Sebek was not meant for this.

He was a knight. A warrior. A protector.

He was not meant to look at you and wish, with every inch of his being, that he could hold your hand not because of duty, but because you wanted him to.

The ball was going well.

Which, frankly, was a miracle.

You were three glasses of wine in, the music was pleasant, and—most importantly—there was no heroine in sight.

Malleus was at peace, sipping his drink like an ancient dragon who had finally hoarded enough gold. Lilia was across the room, very seriously trying to convince a noble to invest in bat jousting (“Picture it, my dear baron—tiny suits of armor, high-speed aerial combat, think of the prestige!”). Silver was half-asleep at the table, so still that he was practically furniture.

And Sebek? Sebek was eating with the sheer intensity of a man who had never been allowed to sit and enjoy a meal in his life.

You were basking in the rare moment of peace when—

She arrived.

The heroine waltzed in, all curls and delicate elegance, scanning the room like she owned the place.

Immediately, you activated Ignore Mode.

But then—

Then she spoke.

“I challenge you!”

You blinked.

Challenge me to what? A duel? A political debate? A staring contest??

And then, with the smuggest expression known to man, she stepped aside to reveal her new(?) knight. You choked on your drink.

Because her knight—

Looked like Sebek.

Like, exactly like Sebek.

Same height, same build, suspiciously similar armor—but the worst part?

His hair was green.

Like she had dyed it.

You nearly dropped your wine.

You turned to Sebek.

Then to knockoff Sebek.

Then to Malleus—who was so absorbed in his perfect night that he hadn’t even registered the incoming disaster.

Then back to fake Sebek.

Sebek, who had been peacefully eating his steak, suddenly froze.

“WHAT IN THE GREAT SEVEN—” His chair scraped across the floor as he stood, eyes wide with pure fury.

The heroine beamed. “My knight will prove his superiority over yours! A true battle of skill and honor!”

You were still stuck on the hair.

"DID YOU DYE THIS MAN’S HAIR GREEN?!"

Fake Sebek smirked, folding his arms. “A knight should be willing to make sacrifices for his lady.”

Sebek looked ready to commit several war crimes.

“This is an INSULT!” He stepped forward, eyes blazing, voice booming. “YOU THINK YOU CAN MATCH ME WITH A PALE IMITATION?! I—”

Oh, hell no.

You had already suffered through so much stupidity in this world. You were not about to let Sebek engage in a battle of the bootlegs just because the heroine had gone completely off the rails.

You grabbed Sebek’s arm.

He whipped around like an enraged storm god. “MY LADY, I MUST—”

“No,” you said flatly. “Not worth it.”

“But—”

“Sebek.”

“She—”

“Sebek.”

“She dares—”

“Sebek. Please.”

His jaw locked. He looked like he wanted to argue. Like he needed to argue. But then you let out a long, exhausted sigh and said,

“Just dance with me instead.”

Sebek stopped breathing.

The entire ballroom faded. The heroine? Gone. Bootleg Sebek? Who? The audience of nosy nobles? Irrelevant.

All that mattered was that you—the person he had sworn to protect, the one he had dedicated his entire being to—had just asked him to dance.

He swallowed thickly. “O-Of course.”

And so, you took his hand and led him to the ballroom floor.

Sebek was stiff at first, like he was concentrating too hard on being perfect, but as the music swelled, he relaxed into the rhythm, his movements smoother, more natural.

And as he guided you across the floor, one hand firm at your waist, the other clasping yours, Sebek couldn’t help but stare.

You were laughing softly, still tipsy, the golden chandeliers casting a warm glow on your skin. The silk of your gown shimmered as you moved, and your smile—

Gods. Your smile.

Sebek knew, without a doubt, that he would do anything to keep it on your face.

And you?

You had no idea.

Because to you, this was just a dance.

But to Sebek—

You looked like a dream come true.

It was finally here. The moment where, according to the absolute literary war crime that was this novel, you were supposed to get poisoned, collapse dramatically, and set off a chain reaction that would end with Sebek exiling himself like a tragic Shakespearean protagonist.

Except this time?

You knew it was coming.

And you were about to flip the script so hard the author would feel it in whatever dimension they were in.

The heroine, as predictable as ever, had invited you to yet another tea party—probably hoping that by the time the poison kicked in, she'd have a perfect view of your untimely demise. You, of course, had accepted with a sweet smile and a mind full of schemes.

Now, seated at a pristine garden table with floral arrangements worth more than some small villages, you watched as she made her move. It was almost laughable how obvious she was. Her eyes flickered towards the maid as your tea was poured, the subtle anticipation in her expression so transparent you were honestly a little embarrassed for her.

You daintily lifted the cup, swirling the tea, inhaling its floral scent. Then, you pretended to take a sip.

Then, you threw yourself into the most dramatic, gut-wrenching, Oscar-worthy performance of your life.

Your body convulsed. Your hand flew to your throat. You gasped, choked, wheezed like a dying fish, and flung your arms out as if desperately grasping at the heavens themselves. You knocked over a plate. A fork clattered to the ground. A lesser noble screamed.

And then, with the grace of a Victorian woman in a corset two sizes too small, you collapsed onto the ground, limbs twitching for good measure.

Chaos erupted.

Ladies shrieked. Servants scrambled. One elderly duke fainted in the background. Even you were impressed. If this world had award shows, you would’ve already been giving an acceptance speech.

And then.

You heard it.

A chair screeching against stone. The heavy, unmistakable clang of armor.

Oh.

Oh, no.

You had made a critical miscalculation.

Sebek.

Sebek, who had been standing behind you the entire time. Sebek, who had just witnessed his charge collapse in agony.

Sebek, who was now standing over the heroine with his sword at her throat.

The entire tea party came to a screeching halt.

The heroine was frozen in terror, because Sebek wasn’t just angry—he was absolutely seething. His hands were steady, his grip unwavering, but the rage in his eyes? The barely-restrained fury crackling in the air around him? That was the look of a man seconds away from turning this entire tea party into a medieval execution.

“How dare you,” Sebek growled, his voice low and deadly, “I swear upon my honor—you will not leave this garden alive.”

You were so close to victory. So close. But no. No, Sebek had to go and initiate an actual murder.

The heroine, pale as a ghost, opened her mouth—probably to sob out some terrible excuse—but Sebek applied just the tiniest bit of pressure with his blade. A thin line of blood beaded at her neck.

The heroine whimpered.

Sebek narrowed his eyes.

Oh, he was fully committed to this.

Then, from your position on the ground, you made a small choking noise.

Sebek snapped around so fast he nearly decapitated her anyway.

His fury instantly shifted into sheer, unfiltered panic.

“My lady—!” He abandoned the heroine entirely, dropping to his knees and scooping you up into his arms as if you were seconds from death. "Stay with me!" His voice wavered, as if sheer willpower alone could force you to keep breathing. "You will not die here, I swear it!"

Okay. Maybe you should have accounted for this.

Before you could get a word in, Sebek scooped you up like a sack of potatoes and booked it inside.

The moment he deposited you onto a chaise lounge like a damsel in distress, you sat up and gave him your best sheepish grin.

“Sebek, I—”

But Sebek did not look relieved.

Sebek looked furious.

"You mean to tell me," he began, his voice escalating, "THAT WAS A LIE?!"

You winced. “Sebek, I—”

"You were NEVER in danger?! NEVER TRULY POISONED?!" His entire body was vibrating. "YOU—"

His voice kept rising.

He was pacing now, movements erratic, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. His breathing was uneven. His hands were shaking.

Gods. Gods, you felt bad.

Before he could work himself into an early grave, you grabbed his face and pulled him close.

"Sebek," you said firmly. "Breathe."

His breath hitched.

You could feel the tension in his jaw, the way his entire being was still radiating panic and betrayal.

Slowly, his breathing evened out. His hands, still clenched at his sides, relaxed.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, thumbs brushing lightly against his cheeks. "I should have told you."

Sebek swallowed hard, staring at you like he had just walked through hell itself.

"I could never bear to lose you." His voice was raw, barely above a whisper.

And then, as if exhaling the weight of the entire world, he bowed his head slightly and said, “Forgive me for my insolence.”

Before you could even process what that meant—

His lips were on yours.

Soft, hesitant, yet utterly consuming.

It lasted one perfect moment—

And then reality kicked in.

Sebek stiffened. His eyes snapped open.

"I— I HAVE OVERSTEPPED— I APOLOGIZE—"

And then.

Sebek fled.

Full-speed.

Out the door.

Down the hall.

Possibly into another plane of existence.

You sat there, dazed, stunned, blushing so hard you were about to burst into flames.

-

You were losing your mind.

Malleus, on the other hand, was having the time of his life.

He sat there, sipping his tea with the serene patience of a man who had definitely seen this coming, while you paced back and forth in front of him, unraveling like a badly-knitted sweater.

"It was just stress!" you declared, throwing your hands in the air. "Right? I mean, high emotions, near-death experience, classic knightly panic—textbook impulse decision!"

Malleus hummed, his expression one of deep, profound amusement. "Oh?"

You pointed at him like you had just presented irrefutable evidence in a murder trial. "YES. Right?! That has to be it!"

Malleus took a slow sip of his tea. "Or…"

You froze.

Malleus paused dramatically—like he was a host on some medieval reality show about to drop a major plot twist—then said, "Perhaps he has feelings for you."

You made a noise. A noise that had never existed before, somewhere between a gasp, a wheeze, and the sound of a tea kettle violently exploding.

Malleus raised an eyebrow, watching as your soul actively left your body.

"That’s—" You flailed. Actually flailed. "That’s absurd!"

Malleus nodded sagely. "Yes. Very absurd." He took another sip of tea, his tone so dry you nearly threw something at him.

You began pacing again, hands on your head, thoughts spiraling into the abyss.

"Maybe—maybe he thinks he has feelings for me," you reasoned, grasping at straws like your life depended on it. "But really, it’s just—devotion! Yes! Classic knightly devotion! It’s not romantic, it’s duty! He admires me, respects me, honors me—"

"—Kissed you."

You choked.

Malleus was smirking now. He was actually enjoying this.

"Okay, but," you continued, desperately trying to dig yourself out of the emotional pit you had fallen into, "what if—what if it was just a slip-up? A moment of weakness? What if he didn’t mean it—?"

Malleus tilted his head. "Then why did he run away? Why did he not apologize?"

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Because he did run away. Full speed. Maximum acceleration. Like a man who had just realized what he had done and could not face the consequences.

Your hands slowly lowered from your head.

Malleus set his teacup down with a soft clink. "I would say that is not the behavior of a man who does not have feelings for someone."

You sat down in the nearest chair, staring into the void.

Malleus observed you with quiet satisfaction.

The way you were actively short-circuiting before his eyes? The absolute catastrophic mental gymnastics you were performing to deny the obvious?

Oh, yes.

This was better than theater.

Meanwhile, Sebek was also suffering.

And Lilia was having the best day of his life.

Sebek was pacing, marching back and forth across the room like he was preparing for battle, arms gesturing wildly as he ranted to no one in particular.

"I—I do not—I cannot—" His voice cracked slightly before he squared his shoulders, forcing himself into a state of denial so powerful it could deflect magic. "IT WAS MERELY A MOMENT OF TEMPORARY EMOTIONAL INSTABILITY!"

Lilia, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, was vibrating. His hands were clasped in front of his mouth, his entire body shaking as he barely contained his laughter. His eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered joy.

"Ah, young love," he sighed dramatically, swaying slightly as if overcome by emotion. "So passionate! So tumultuous!" He clutched his chest. "So full of suffering!"

Sebek whirled around, offended to his very core.

"It is NOT love!" he practically roared, and Silver, who had been trying to stay calm, rubbed his temples like a tired therapist dealing with a particularly stubborn client.

"Sebek," Silver said, voice steady, soothing, rational. "You kissed her."

Sebek's eye twitched.

"It was an accident!"

Silver raised an eyebrow. "How do you accidentally kiss someone?"

Sebek flailed. "IT WAS THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT!"

"Mmhm~" Lilia hummed, practically swaying with delight.

Sebek turned to him, pointing like he was about to declare war. "STOP—STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

"Like what?" Lilia grinned. "Like I just witnessed the most entertaining thing to happen in centuries?"

"YES!"

Lilia cackled.

Sebek turned back to Silver, desperate for support, but Silver was already shaking his head.

"Sebek," Silver said patiently. "You’re in love."

Sebek physically recoiled. His entire soul left his body for a second before it returned, but not before his brain short-circuited.

"NO!"

"Yes," Silver said simply.

"Preposterous!" Sebek thundered, arms flailing again. "I am a knight! Her protector! I have sworn my loyalty to her! I would give my LIFE for her—!"

"Yes," Silver interrupted, nodding. "Because you love her."

Sebek froze.

His mouth opened. Then closed.

Then opened again.

Nothing came out.

Lilia, who was practically incandescent with joy, clasped his hands together and leaned in, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Oh my," Lilia purred. "He's realizing it."

Sebek visibly malfunctioned.

His arms tensed, his jaw clenched, his brain clearly trying to override the obvious conclusion with pure willpower alone.

And then, because he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself—

Sebek turned on his heel and sprinted out of the room at full speed.

Lilia howled with laughter, throwing himself back onto the couch.

Silver simply sighed, rubbing his temples again. "You know he's going to deny this for at least another week, right?"

"Oh, let him struggle~" Lilia giggled, delighted beyond words. "This is better than theater."

The heroine was losing her goddamn mind.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. She was the main character. She was supposed to triumph over adversity! She was supposed to defeat her rival, claim her rightful place at Malleus’s side, and bask in the admiration of high society as they all realized how special and wonderful she was!

And yet—

You.

You, the person who was supposed to be her greatest adversary, her foil, her dramatic counterpart—

Did. Not. Care.

Every time she tried to one-up you, every time she schemed and plotted and prepared some devastating social maneuver to put you in your place—

You ignored her.

Not even with thinly veiled contempt. Not with cold, calculated disdain. No.

You ignored her like you would ignore a particularly unimpressive rock on the side of the road.

Like a piece of furniture. Like she was a background character in her own goddamn story.

She had thrown everything at you.

She had made subtle barbs about your outfits—Oh, what a… bold choice of color. Not everyone could pull that off.

You had simply nodded and thanked her before returning to making googly eyes at your knight.

She had gone out of her way to outshine you at every event—grander gowns, more dramatic entrances, carefully curated conversations that should have drawn everyone’s attention to her.

You?

You barely registered that she was there.

She had even dyed her own knight’s hair green for fuck’s sake.

And you had just—

Ignored it.

You hadn’t even looked surprised. No scandalized gasp, no pointed glances, no passive-aggressive remark about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery.

Nothing.

The absolute indifference nearly sent her into a breakdown right then and there.

But still—still—she had held out hope.

Because there was one final, tried-and-true method to defeat a villainess.

Poison.

A noblewoman’s tea party. A carefully laced cup. A gasp, a choke, a dramatic collapse.

It was foolproof.

Except—

Except you had pretended to drink it.

She hadn’t even noticed at first. She had simply sipped her tea, waiting for your inevitable demise—only to watch you pull off an Oscar worthy performance.

And now?

Now the entirety of high society hated her.

Not because they actually cared about you, no—

But because attempting to poison someone at a social gathering was just so terribly gauche.

It was uncivilized. It was desperate. It was cringe.

And worse?

She had failed.

One noblewoman had sighed, shaking her head. “Poisoning your rival? How utterly common. If she were going to do it, the least she could’ve done was be subtle.”

Another had tsked, “Imagine—spending all that effort trying to destroy someone only for them to sit back and make googly eyes at their knight instead.”

That one nearly made her explode.

Because that? That was the worst part.

Through all of this, you weren’t even fighting back.

You weren’t scheming. You weren’t plotting revenge. You weren’t even paying attention to her anymore.

No.

You were too busy pining over Sebek.

At first, she thought it was coincidence. A weird little side note in this battle.

But no.

She saw it everywhere now.

You, brushing your hand against his as he held a door open for you. You, laughing at something he said in that ridiculous, overly loud voice. You, looking at him like he was the most precious thing in existence while he continued to act like a knight-shaped golden retriever with too many feelings.

It was infuriating.

And now, after everything, after all the time and energy and sanity she had lost trying to make you engage, she woke up one morning and realized—

She had lost.

Not in some grand, cinematic battle of wits. Not in an explosive confrontation.

No.

She had lost in the most humiliating way possible.

Because you never even considered her a threat to begin with.

She had spent all this time clawing her way to the top of a rivalry that only existed in her own head.

And the person she had chosen as her nemesis had treated her with the same level of importance as a salad garnish.

It was over.

She was done.

She picked up a pen, wrote a letter, and signed it with the exhausted resignation of a woman who had fully accepted defeat.

Lady,

I give up. I’m leaving. Enjoy your ridiculous romance with your ridiculous knight.

—Heroine

Then, without any fanfare, she packed her things, walked out of her estate, and left the country.

And you?

You didn’t even notice until a servant handed you the letter over breakfast.

You blinked at it, took a bite of toast, and read the whole thing while casually sipping your tea.

Then you folded it neatly, set it aside, and promptly forgot about it.

Sebek Zigvolt was avoiding you.

Not in the dramatic, storming-off, I-shall-never-speak-to-you-again way that some lovesick noble might after a scandalous incident at a ball. No, that would have been too easy.

Instead, he had apparently decided that the most rational way to handle his predicament was to maintain a perfect six-foot gap between the two of you at all times.

Like some sort of ridiculous, self-imposed restraining order.

You noticed it immediately, of course, because how could you not?

The first morning, you stepped into the drawing room, still slightly groggy from waking up, and found Sebek already there, standing so rigidly that he looked like he had been installed into the floorboards.

“Good morning, Sebek.”

Sebek, a man who had never once in his life failed to respond to you immediately, took a full three seconds to react, his head snapping toward you like a marionette whose strings had been yanked too hard.

“MY LADY!” he barked, far too loud for this early in the morning. “GOOD MORNING TO YOU AS WELL!”

Then, before you could say another word, he pivoted sharply and took three steps back.

Three big, deliberate, backward steps.

And then?

He stared past you.

Not at you. Past you.

Like he had suddenly developed an intense fascination with the wall.

And this? This continued.

For three. Entire. Days.

At breakfast, he sat exactly six feet away from your chair and stabbed his eggs with the precision and fury of a man attempting to exorcise a demon from his plate.

At social events, he positioned himself like some tragically lovesick ghost, haunting the edge of the room with a tormented expression, still very much guarding you but now also acting like being within arm’s reach might cause him to spontaneously combust.

Even in casual conversations, if you took a step forward?

Sebek took a step back.

And the worst part?

He was so obvious about it.

Like, if he was actually trying to be subtle, you could at least pretend it wasn’t happening. But no, this man was out here moving like an NPC whose pathfinding AI was breaking.

By the third day, you had reached your limit.

You had tolerated his weird little knightly existential crisis long enough.

So, that morning, when you saw him standing—once again—exactly six feet away, rigid as a lamppost, pointedly pretending that the tree outside the window was the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his life, you snapped.

“Sebek.”

No response.

“Sebek.”

Nothing.

You took a step forward.

Sebek immediately took a step back.

You took another step.

Sebek tried to escape.

Absolutely not.

With all the swiftness of a person completely done with this nonsense, you closed the gap, stepping right into his space, and before he could even think about scrambling backward like some flustered fawn, you grabbed his face and squished his stupid, handsome, stubborn cheeks between your hands.

Sebek made an absolutely incomprehensible noise.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THIS IS HIGHLY—!!”

He was spluttering. Stammering. Eyes darting around wildly like he was searching for an escape route despite the fact that you were holding his actual face.

“Sebek,” you said, exasperated, thumbs pressing into his cheeks as he failed spectacularly to regain any of his usual knightly composure. “Do you like me?”

Sebek, in his infinite, ridiculous wisdom, chose the absolute worst possible response.

“I—! I AM YOUR KNIGHT! TO ENTERTAIN SUCH FRIVOLITIES WOULD BE A DERELECTION OF DUTY!”

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then, with the patience of someone trying to explain basic math to a particularly dense brick wall, you groaned, “Sebek, we are not in a play. Do you like me or not!?”

Sebek made a noise somewhere between a strangled honk and a dying animal.

His entire face turned so red that for a moment, you were genuinely concerned that he might be about to pass out.

Then—

He nodded.

It was tiny, barely perceptible, like he was afraid saying it too loudly would cause the heavens to smite him on the spot, but it was there.

And that was all you needed.

Before he could start raving about duty or oaths or whatever dramatic monologue he was preparing, you surged forward and kissed him.

Sebek froze.

Completely, entirely, utterly still.

For half a second, you worried that you had broken him.

But then—

Sebek kissed you back.

With the fervor of a man who had been waiting his entire life for this exact moment.

It took thirty full minutes to convince Sebek that you were, in fact, not in a tragic, forbidden love story.

Ten minutes of him pacing, ranting about duty and propriety, gripping the air like an overdramatic stage actor monologuing in the rain.

Thirty minutes of you, standing there, patiently waiting for his brain to catch up to reality.

"Sebek," you said for the fifteenth time, arms crossed, exasperated but fond. "We are not in a Shakespearean tragedy."

Sebek opened his mouth to argue, paused, frowned, then slowly closed it.

You could see the war happening inside him. His knightly instincts were screaming about honor and responsibility, while the part of him that had just kissed you—twice now—was standing in the corner, sweating profusely.

He inhaled deeply, squared his shoulders, and nodded.

"...Very well," he said, stiffly, as if forcing himself to accept that the universe had, in fact, allowed him to be happy.

You smirked and reached for his hand. "Great. Now come on, we’re late."

Sebek made a dying noise when you intertwined your fingers with his.

When you arrived, Malleus, Lilia, and Silver were already gathered in the garden, basking in the afternoon sun.

The moment you and Sebek showed up—hand in hand—Lilia's entire face lit up.

"Ah-ha!" Lilia cried, delighted, spinning toward the others with a mischievous flourish. "Pay up!"

Malleus sighed, deeply, as if betrayed by fate itself. Silver grunted, reaching into his pocket.

And then, right in front of you, the two of them handed Lilia actual money.

You blinked. “Wait. What just happened?”

Lilia grinned, tucking his winnings away. “Oh, just a little wager~”

You narrowed your eyes. "What kind of wager?"

Lilia, positively glowing with mischief, said, "I bet that you two would get together sooner rather than later."

Malleus, looking far too composed for someone who had just lost a bet, adjusted his sleeves and said, "I, on the other hand, estimated that it would take at least another year."

Silver sighed. "I thought it’d take two."

You gawked. "YOU WERE TAKING BETS ON THIS?!"

Sebek was mortified.

"YOU GAMBLED ON OUR HONOR?!" he thundered, appalled, offended, visibly vibrating.

Lilia cackled. “Oh, relax, dear boy! I was simply invested in your happiness!"

Sebek looked like he wanted to die.

So, naturally, you turned toward him, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek.

Sebek stopped yelling immediately.

You could physically see the protest die in his throat. His entire body locked up, his ears turned red, and his eyes darted away as if you had just knocked the ability to argue right out of him.

Malleus, entirely too amused, hummed. “Curious. That seems to be an effective method of silencing him.”

Lilia beamed. “Oh, I love this development.”

Silver, utterly exhausted, rubbed his temple. "I don't even know why I bother at this point."

You just laughed, perfectly content, sitting beside your knight and the people you loved.

Masterlist

Can't believe this is the 15th part already!

---

I saw you wanted some requests!!

Could I request kissing Idia all over his face? I just feel like it’d be so funny to see his reaction

I hope you have a lovely day!!

idia shroud who’s doomed with lots of kisses.

Idia was losing. Badly. And it wasn’t his fault—it could never be his fault—his teammates were just outright incompetent.

“Seriously? Who runs straight into the enemy’s trap without checking the map first?” he grumbled. “Do they even understand the concept of positioning?”

You were just lying on his chest, your body nestled comfortably against his as you watched him play. Your arms were wrapped around his torso, your face just inches from his, and you hummed a quiet tune to entertain yourself.

You were so close. Too close.

And yet... Idia didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked it.

He still couldn’t believe you two were like this now—so close, so comfortable. A year ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of letting someone into his room, much less on his bed. But now... it was his favorite thing in the world.

Especially when it was you.

Well, you were always the only exception to him whenever it came to almost anything.

Idia tried to focus on his game, his eyes glued to the screen as his character dodged another poorly timed attack from the enemy. “Are they... are they actually feeding the enemy team?! Oh my Sevens, I’m going to spam report them with all of my accounts.” He let out a dramatic sigh, his hair flickering with frustrated flames.

“Amateurs... all of them.”

“You get so worked up over your games,” you tease, your voice warm and affectionate.

He huffed, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “I-It’s because they’re so bad! I mean, seriously, who rushes into a 1v4 without backup?! Do they even know how to play?!”

You just smiled, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest. He wore his teal hoodie, the one you got him just because you can. “You’re cute when you get all frustrated.”

“They’re just... so ugh. It’s like they’ve never played a MOBA before.” His fingers moved with practiced precision, his character launching a series of attacks that wiped out two enemies in quick succession. “See? That’s how you do it. If I weren’t here, they’d be doomed.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still focused on him. Idia’s heart raced when he noticed, his fingers faltering on the controller. You were looking at him with that expression again—that sweet, adoring look that made his stomach burst with butterflies and his mind go blank.

He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on his game, but it was impossible. You were too close, too warm, too... loving.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

He scoffed, his face heating up. “I don’t look cute. I look serious. Intense. Like a soldier.”

“You’re cute,” you insisted, laughing. “Very cute.”

His heart skipped a beat, his fingers faltering on the controller. He narrowly avoided an incoming ultimate skill, his character’s health dropping dangerously low. “H-Hey, don’t distract me!”

“But it’s fun.”

Idia rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re supposed to be my co-pilot. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me win?”

“I am helping. I’m boosting your morale.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right. Some morale boost...”

Before he could say more, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin.

Idia’s heart stopped.

His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. Your lips were warm and soft, lingering for just a moment before you pulled away as if it was the most common thing to do.

His character died on screen, the revival countdown flashing in bold white numbers. Idia barely noticed, his mind reeling from the sensation of your kiss.

“[Name]...?”

“I told you it was a morale boost.” How could you casually shrug this off?!

Idia stared at you. How did you two get here? How did he get to the point where he was lying on his bed with his girlfriend, cuddling up to him, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

More importantly, how did he get to the point where he was okay with it? Did he actually want you to be this close?

Your lips brushed his cheek, softer this time, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Idia’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching around his controller.

“W-What are you doing?” His voice was embarrassingly weak, his heart pounding in his chest. God, how pathetic he sounded.

You, however, didn’t answer, your lips trailing along his cheekbones. Then you kissed his forehead, his nose, and even the little mole on his temple.

Idia’s hands trembled, his controller slipping from his fingers and falling onto the mattress beside him. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his body moving on its own.

“I like watching you play,” you admitted quietly. “You get so focused. It’s adorable.”

He groaned, his head falling back against his pillow.

“You’re... evil...”

You laughed. “You’re just realizing that now?”

“You’re worse than players who don’t know how to cast their character’s ultimate combo.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You then leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You were so, so close now, your face just inches from his.

He swallowed hard. “You’re... really close...”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He never thought he’d get to this point—never thought he’d find someone who accepted him, who cared for him, who wanted to be close to him. Someone who could understand him and make him feel as though he deserves to be loved unconditionally.

And yet, here you were, lying in his arms, your warmth seeping into him, your presence filling every corner of his heart.

“I... really like you.”

He likes saying it when he feels as though he needs to say it, which isn’t often, so it holds sentiment and tenderness.

“I like you too, Idia. Really, really like you.”

Idia was doomed. Completely, absolutely, undeniably doomed... and he never wanted to be saved.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

---

Gift-Giving Representation

In which Riddle, Leona, Azul, and Sebek give GN!Reader a plushie before they leave that represents themselves.

Established relationship. Fluff. Requested by @blue-rae18.

Riddle Rosehearts

Leona Kingscholar

Azul Ashengrotto

Sebek Zigvolt

---

In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.

Ace calls it his teapot snarl.

Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"

The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.

Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).

"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.

----

Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!

HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!

His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.

"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.

You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.

"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.

Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).

The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"

"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"

---

Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.

"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.

The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.

"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.

"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.

"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.

Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."

Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.

Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Ace gulps.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."

---

Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.

He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.

Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.

And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.

Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".

All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.

"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.

"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."

"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.

"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.

----

Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.

He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.

'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.

His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"

He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.

Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.

"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!

"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.

"You know it!" he laughs.

"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."

#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.

----

Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.

His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.

Your skin.

He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.

Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.

You shouldn't be, but you are.

You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.

Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.

Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.

You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.

Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.

Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.

Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.

"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."

"Wh-what was my total again?"

All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.

Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.

"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.

"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.

The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.

----

Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.

Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!

He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.

If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--

"How much do you cost?"

EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?

Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.

Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!

Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!

"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.

WOMP!

Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.

Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.

They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!

-----

Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.

A good boy, if you will.

The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!

He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.

It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?

Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.

His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.

This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.

You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!

You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.

Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"

As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.

It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.

Yeah, don't mention that either.

---

"It feels weird being apart from Jade. Why'd we get put in different classes? Would've been nice to stick together."

"Floyd sometimes comes to visit my class. He's more tender than he seems."

Jump Rings and Bite Marks

Floyd Leech x gn!reader, pre-relationship

they/them pronouns, miscommunications, fluff, swearing

You have a crush on Floyd, Floyd has a crush on you... not that either of you admit to it in a way that the other understands.

Word Count: 6110

Okay so remember how we looked past the intro on my Cloudcalling fic and it got better a little ways in? Yeah? I need yall to trust me again, there's like two sections of lead up into the good stuff that I couldn't figure out how to rework to fit better but they're a little too tied into the plot to get rid of. Yall trust me? This is heavily influenced by various other Floyd fics and it's also my tribute to the merform gatcha gods for my final ten pull, wish me luck!

Ace and Deuce had finally gotten used to how blunt you often were, more often showing annoyance with their actions than cracking a smile, but they knew you cared about them. So when the anemones sprouted on their heads, they weren’t surprised to see you rolling your eyes and crossing your arms but you agreed to help them out to the best of your abilities the next day at lunch. You already had the Headmage on your ass about fixing this problem, but you weren’t about to leave your best friends hanging.

After you followed Azul around for a day with Jack, you were approached by the twins. When they turned their attention from the anemones to you, your friends watched as your eyes went wide. You looked... nervous? For the first time since they met you, you looked nervous about a non life threatening situation. Which was fair, the Leech twins were intimidating. Floyd teased you about the look on your face, dubbing you Shrimpy. Jack was the only one to notice the shift in your demeanor, namely the blush that rose to your cheeks for a moment as they kept speaking to you. He said nothing, figuring you were just uncomfortable about being singled out. When you went to the Mostro Lounge that night, you were surprisingly accommodating when the twins volunteered you and Jack to help with orders. You didn’t need any direction or instruction past how the tables were set up, you just rolled up your sleeves and got to work.

Jack noticed the blush on your cheeks again when the twins confronted you outside the Atlantica Memorial Museum. While Deuce and Ace were going pale upon seeing the two, you were red? He hoped with fury. He noticed it again after you were all electrocuted by the contract in Azul’s office, when Floyd threatened to squeeze you all. He watched you hang in the doorway a moment as you all escaped, he was the only one to see your wide smirk as you blew them all a kiss goodbye before joining the rest in their escape. When you finally got the photo out of the museum and got cornered by the twins again, Jack swore you looked happy to see them, grinning wide when you heard Floyd call out Shrimpy. That was because of your plan, right? Right?

The boys didn’t have to know about your little crush, the way your mind blanked whenever Floyd got a little too close. So when he swam in a tight circle around you, his tail fin brushing against your arms as he wrapped around and away, it was all you could do to not start twirling your damn hair. You sounded a little too eager to your own ears when you took up Floyd’s suggestion of “tag” until the sun went down, hoping the others just saw it as you being thrilled that your plan was working. As with most magical fights, the best you could do was call shots. During the overblots, you found blunt objects you could physically attack with, but underwater when your movements were so restricted anyways? No shot. You had just yanked Deuce out of the way of an incoming spell, and he turned to thank you just in time to see Floyd swimming up from behind, much faster than anyone expected. You barely had time to turn around at your friend’s fearful expression when Floyd crashed into you, wrapping his arms around you and swimming away. The way he was holding you pinned your arms to your sides, and he started absolutely cackling as he started for the surface. You were much too close, the skin contact, the way you were pressed against his chest. Your face was bright red at this point. You held your breath as he broke the surface of the water, the potion still in effect, and with his full strength coupled with the momentum, chucked you into the air. You wanted to yell, but continued holding your breath until you were back in the water. When you dropped back under, you were laughing, loud and delighted. It absolutely threw Floyd off as he swam to grab you again, holding you by the waist this time, twirling the two of you around as he swam. You yelped when he grabbed you, still laughing as he moved.

“Shrimpyy~ where’s the picture?” He drawled lazily, as if he weren’t swimming at full speed, twisting around with you in his arms.

“I don’t have it!” You laughed, eyes squeezed shut, holding onto his arms.

“Eh? Are you having fun?” He asked with a large, sharp grin, leaning in closer and squeezing you a little tighter.

You didn’t have time to respond before he dropped you, practically bowling you into your classmates. You landed on top of Ace, who tumbled into Jack before you were all in a heap on the ground, you still chuckling and dizzy.

..

Three overblots in the bag and you were finally getting used to the way things would just go back to normal afterwards, like there wasn’t just a massive, life-threatening fight. Jack handed you the photo from the museum, announcing your victory despite there not being a contract anymore. When you held up the picture, Floyd came over and draped himself on your right shoulder.

“Aha ha, that takes me back! This is a picture from our school field trip.” He announced as he leaned in closer to get a better look at it, pointing at the kids in the picture. “Me 'n Jade are right here. Aaand...” he dragged his finger over with his drawn out word, “see the kid sulking way off in the corner? That's baby Azul!”

Azul screamed as you pulled the picture closer to your face to look and cooed about how cute he was. “DON’T LOOK! PLEASE DON’T LOOK!”

He made to leap forward to snatch the picture, only to be blocked by Jade, now hovering near your left side with a sly grin. “Well well, Azul, you sure are spirited all of a sudden.” Jade practically purred. “Shouldn't you get a little more sleep? Considering how far things have already gone, it would be easier for you to let this one go.”

Floyd took the picture from you to hold out for the others to see, not removing himself from your shoulder as he did. Azul screamed again as everyone looked at the picture, making their own remarks on baby Azul.

..

Jade noticed how close his brother was getting to you, he would do this fairly often. Find someone he thought was interesting, cling to them for a week or so, then get bored and never interact with them again. But the weeks were going by with no sign of him letting up. Floyd sulked when he couldn’t find you at Ramshackle after a few days into the winter holiday, not knowing you were being essentially held captive in Scarabia. When you and Grim crash landed in the Mostro Lounge, Floyd scooped you up off the floor, your feet dangling in the air as he squeezed you and twirled you around. He only put you back down when the Scarabia students threatened them, and Jade watched as he stepped protectively in front of you. Interesting. After the fight, Jade patched up the cuts and scrapes you’d gotten when you crashed into the lounge. He sat you in a stool at the bar, Floyd jumping up to sit on the counter behind you, despite Azul’s protesting, as you told them what happened. You had almost gotten used to Floyd coming up behind you and resting his chin on top of your head at this point, so it was no surprise that he did it when you were trying to explain.

More time passed than Jade expected. You’d dealt with Jamil and Vil’s overblots and Floyd was still following you around. He noticed his brother snap at anyone else who got too friendly with you, and watched as he brought you little gifts nearly every day. A tooth here, a scale there, he even found you a pearl once. He followed you around more often than not, to the point where Azul wrote up an employee contract for you to get paid to sit in the Lounge so Floyd would show up for work and stay for his entire shift. Most of your classmates avoided you like the plague, even when Floyd wasn’t around. Even your friends were almost too intimidated to hang around. Almost. They stuck around when Floyd was busy with something else, often asking if you were okay, if you were in danger. You always waved them off, claiming that Floyd was mostly harmless. Interesting.

You were in the lounge, getting paid to sit at the bar so Floyd would do his job. You’d tried to sit in the booths before, but it was apparently too far away for Floyd’s liking as he would wander out of the kitchen and join your table, food orders piling up while he just sat with you. So Azul moved you to the bar, designating a seat for you where Floyd could see you through the window. You pretended not to notice when Azul would grumble about this “silly infatuation” Floyd had. You knew he liked having you around, he had mentioned that he thought your reactions were hilarious, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call it an infatuation. Sure, you flirted here and there, but you just kinda figured that was part of his whole vibe. You were working on your homework at the bar when there was a clatter from the kitchen, followed by Floyd letting out a long string of curses and the telltale bang that he’d just kicked something. You glanced around quickly, trying to see if Jade or Azul were nearby to go in and check on him, only to find them both busy with their tables. You hopped off your bar stool and wandered to the kitchen door, pushing it open just enough to poke your head in. Floyd was standing in the middle of the room, rubbing at the side of his head and pouting, looking down at something in his hand.

“Floyd?” You called out, catching his attention. “You okay?”

He looked over quickly, pouting even harder as he did. “Shrimpyy...” He groaned as he wandered over, pulling you into the kitchen proper and draping himself over your shoulders like he usually did. He stared you in the eyes for a moment before looking down at what was in his hand again, prompting you to also look down. Shining blue scales and jump rings in a pile in his hand. You looked back up at him, tilting your head slightly to see that the only part of his earring that was still there was the post itself.

“Oh, what happened?” You asked, reaching up to take the post out of his ear.

“I caught it on that damn shelf,” he huffed, glaring over at it like he could set it on fire, “Azul’s never fucking in here, why’s it matter to him if I move the damn thing higher up so I don’t bash my fucking head?”

His ear wasn’t bleeding, as far as you could tell. You dropped the post into your palm and held your hand under his for him to pass you the rest of the pieces. He just stared at you for a moment before tilting his head in confusion.

“I’ve got a needle nose back at Ramshackle,” you explained, not moving your hand away, “I can bring it back to you in the morning.”

He just blinked at you for a moment before carefully dumping the rest of the pieces into your hand. “Careful with it, our mom made us these before we started middle school.”

“I’ll be careful.” You promised, extracting yourself out from underneath him.

He just watched as you gently folded your fingers around the pieces and walked out of the kitchen, too much going through his head to make a bigger reaction. You headed back to your spot to gather up your things, catching Azul’s attention from where he was making a coffee.

“Done with your work?” He asked from behind the bar.

“No, something came up,” you shrugged, slinging your bag over your shoulder, still gently cradling the earring pieces to your chest, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and concern as he watched you walk out of the lounge. He’d seen you come out of the kitchen... He put the coffee down and walked back into the kitchen, where Floyd was still standing in the same spot, rubbing at his earlobe.

“What was that?” Azul asked, crossing his arms.

“I think I’m getting married.” Floyd responded casually before turning back to the prep table.

“What does that mean?!”

You’d had to go to Sam’s to pick up more jump rings, one of them having gotten lost or snapped when the earring broke. Sam really did stock everything, and you were glad for it. It didn’t take long at all to put the pieces back together. Three scales, the tracks still in place, it was just the jump rings that had stretched open with the strain. You decided to just replace the rings all together rather than risk the metal fatigue on such a small wire. You finished it with enough time to finish your homework before bed. The next morning before classes, you headed over to Octavinelle. You were hoping to find Floyd in the student lounge, or maybe Mostro, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You’d been to the twins’ room before when Floyd insisted on showing you a new pair of sneakers he’d gotten for basketball, so you knew where it was. You weren’t particularly excited about dropping in unannounced so early in the morning, however. You wandered down the hallway towards their room, other students giving you a wide berth as you passed, muttering behind your back. Ever since Floyd started following you around, it was always the Octavinelle students that had the most to talk about, and they weren’t exactly subtle. But you ignored it as you always did as you approached the twins’ door and knocked, it’s not like their gossip could bother you unless you let it, right? You only had to wait a moment before the door swung open revealing Jade, hair half ironed and a confused look on his face. The look only lasted a moment though, quickly turning to a smirk before he turned to go back to his desk, leaving the door open for you. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, Jade sitting down to return his focus to his flat iron. Floyd was still asleep on his side of the room, face down, tangled up in his blankets and hoodie, one arm dangling off the bed. You walked over and set your bag down next to the bed, leaning down to put a hand on his shoulder and shake him gently. You didn’t get the chance to shake. The second your hand hit his shoulder, his eyes flew open, the hand that had been brushing the floor shot up to grab you by the lapel of your jacket. It only took a second for him to adjust, his murderous look quickly shifting to a wide, sleepy grin as he let go of your jacket.

“Shrimpyy~” He crooned through a yawn, grabbing your arm to pull you on top of him as he rolled onto his back.

“Floyd--!” You yelped as he yanked you into bed, arms coiling tightly around you.

He hummed pleasantly, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “You should wake me up every morning, you’re much nicer than Jade~!”

“If only it were always that easy to wake you.” Jade chimed in.

“Ya don’t haffta dump cold water on me, ya know.” Floyd snapped, arms tightening around you as he turned his head to glare at his brother.

“Sometimes that is the only way, Floyd.” Jade grinned wickedly at him before turning off the flat iron and standing up. “Do try not to stay here all morning, we still have classes to get to.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Floyd huffed, burrowing his head back into your shoulder as Jade left the room.

Once Jade was gone, you pushed up slightly from Floyd’s grasp, pushing his face to the side to get better access to his ear. He laughed at your antics until he felt you slide his earring back into place, one hand darting up to feel the fixed jewelry. He looked shocked for a moment as he turned his head back to you before laughing in delight, both arms coiling around you and twisting you to lay next to him on the bed between him and the wall, the two of you now facing each other on your sides, your legs still draped over his. He didn’t say anything as he nuzzled back into your shoulder, and for a moment you thought it was just him being sweet, until you felt his teeth dig into the bend of your neck.

“FLOYD!” You shrieked, instinctively grabbing the hair at the base of his skull and yanking.

It did little to deter him, his sharp teeth digging further into the soft skin of your neck painfully. After what felt like a very long moment, you felt his teeth slide back out, replaced by his tongue dragging over the wound. The sensation made you shiver as he did it again, pain rippling up your neck.

“What the hell was that for?!” You asked as he finally pulled back, a little bit of your blood on his bottom lip.

“What, I can’t say thank you?” He asked in a teasing tone, his hands running down your back as he moved in closer, eyes locked with yours. “Yer all red~”

“That hurt, Floyd.” You snapped.

“Hm... could bite me back, it’d make ya feel better.” He yawned again before flashing his teeth at you in a grin that felt slightly menacing.

“No thanks.” You huffed, moving to sit up again. He gave you a confused look as you climbed back over him to get off the bed. “I gotta meet up with Jamil before class starts, I’ll see you later.”

He sat up, watching after you as you left the room, looking more and more confused the further away you got. He waited a few minutes to be sure you were gone before he rolled out of bed, not bothering to get dressed before heading to Azul’s office. He was pouting when he slammed open the door, startling Azul away from his paperwork, Jade casually looking up from a page he was reviewing.

“Ah, Floyd. Did everything go well?” Jade asked, the question alone making Floyd kick over a chair before flopping onto the couch.

“No.” He spat out, curling up on his side, facing the back of the couch.

“What in the world are you two on about now?” Azul sighed heavily, glancing between the two of them.

“Well, whyever not?” Jade asked, ignoring Azul’s question.

“They fixed my earring!” Floyd grumbled, turning his head to display it. “And they didn’t even bite me back!”

Azul and Jade exchanged glances for a second, before Azul chimed in. “You... bit Yuu?”

“Duh!”

“Well, they are a human, perhaps they don’t--”

“I’m sure it just startled them, and they will return your affections when they are ready.” Jade said over Azul, hoping more than anything to just watch the chaos unfold.

“But they fixed my earring!” He whined, pouting at his brother, apparently not having heard Azul.

“They are human, it’s likely humans take things slower.”

Azul threw his hands up slightly, glancing around as if to confirm with someone else that he was actually in the room.

“Fiiine...”

Things changed slightly after you fixed Floyd’s earring. He’d bit you really hard, it was likely going to end up leaving a scar behind. But every day afterwards, you caught him staring at you more, as if expecting you to do something. After a few days of him staring so intently, you ended up attempting to do a backflip on the grass in the courtyard. Attempt being the operative word. You got most of the way through it before belly flopping into the ground. It was better than you thought you would do, and it made him bust out laughing as he jogged over to check on you. Every day his stare seemed to get more and more intense, but not much else changed. His gifts were coming a little more frequently, he even made you a little necklace with a chain, some wire, and another pearl he’d found, and he was still hovering enough to keep most of your classmates away. Almost a week out and your neck was still sore and bruised. You were eating lunch in the cafeteria with the freshman group when you turned your neck wrong, catching a painful spot and causing you to reach up and massage it.

“You alright?” Epel asked when you accidentally bumped him with your elbow.

“Yeah, sorry, just hurts.” You grumbled.

“What does?”

“Floyd fucking bit me last week.” You sighed, rolling your shoulder a bit as you put your hand down. “Like, really hard.”

“Dude, he bit you?” Ace asked through an amused snort, getting you to glare at him.

“...How hard?” Jack asked hesitantly, Ace snickering behind his hand.

“Hard enough to bleed, probably gonna scar.” You complained, popping the top button on your shirt and moving the collar of your shirt aside for them to see it. “Jamil helped me clean it up, but even he thinks it’s gonna leave a mark.”

Jack’s eyes widened for a moment before he looked back down at his lunch, cheeks dusted pink and ears flattening backwards. You shook his reaction off as Epel examined it a little closer.

“It doesn’t look infected, at least.” He confirmed, still grimacing. “Ya weren’t kiddin’ though, that looks rough.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna scar.” Deuce agreed, turning back to his lunch as you covered the mark up again. “At least you have a permanent reminder of NRC, even if you do go home.”

“Gee, I’m so incredibly thrilled.” You deadpanned, making him snort out a laugh.

Ace nudged Jack, who was still staring intently at his sandwich, with his elbow. “What’s up man? I know your puritanical beliefs don’t allow you to view ankles or whatever--” you nearly cackled at the quip, “--but it’s alright! They’re properly covered now!”

“You make me sound like a whore for showing my sinful neck.”

“Yeah, you heard me.”

You snickered before turning to Deuce and Epel. “Imagine if I had to show this shit to Rollo.”

“I think he’d die of a heart attack the second you opened your collar.” Deuce laughed, Epel chuckling along.

“Likely guy’d pop an aneurysm ‘fore a boner.” Epel chimed in.

The three of you going off on your tangent kept Jack from explaining what a bite like that meant. He figured you’d find out eventually. The topic changed entirely for the rest of the lunch period. Before lunch was over, however, someone plopped down beside you, cutting off any remaining conversation.

“Hey Floyd.” You said without having to look up, still working on the last bits of your lunch as he leaned on your shoulder with a sound that almost resembled a purr.

Ace and Deuce were already on their feet, quickly saying their goodbyes before scrambling away, obviously still traumatized by the contract fiasco. Epel patted your shoulder, careful of your injury, and said goodbye before leaving as well. Jack stayed for a moment, locking eyes with Floyd.

“What’s up, Sea Urchin?” Floyd drawled lazily, a dangerous smile on his face.

Jack shook his head and stood up. “Nothin’. See ya, Yuu.”

You waved to Jack as he left before looking at Floyd, who looked highly satisfied. “Well, you chased off all my friends. What’s up?”

“Meet me in the mirror chamber after class, okay?” He asked, sounding significantly more like a demand.

“What for?”

“It’s a surprise~”

You arrived at the mirror chamber not long after classes let out, having to drop your stuff back at Ramshackle before going. The second you walked through the door, Floyd was in front of you, shoving a potion into your arms.

“Drink this!” He said excitedly before jogging over to the dark mirror.

You examined what he handed you, one of Azul’s water breathing potions, and quirked an eyebrow at him as you moved to join him by the mirror.

“Floyd, where are we going?” You asked, trying not to get exasperated by his antics.

“Less thinkin’ more drinkin’!” He commanded, popping the cork out of the bottle for you.

He nearly lifted it to your lips before you pulled it out of his reach. You sighed heavily before chugging down the disgusting potion while Floyd nearly bounced with excitement. Once the bottle was empty, he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you after him into the mirror, the dizzying transition into the water causing you to squeeze you eyes shut to ward off the vertigo. Once you opened your eyes again, Floyd was in his natural form, absolutely beaming at you before wrapping his arms around your waist and speeding away.

“Floyd!” You laughed as he spun you around, clearly heading in a specific direction. “Where are we going?!”

“You’ll see, quit askin’!” He laughed back at you, twisting in the opposite direction to wrap his tail fin around your legs for a moment.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, holding onto his shoulders as he cut through the water. You could barely see the scenery of the ocean floor as it whipped past, occasionally able to catch glances of schools of fish as they scattered away from Floyd. The further you went, the darker it got, until you were just able to make out glowing speckles along his arms, up his shoulders, around his neck. It looked like the night sky and you couldn’t stop staring, even as he slowed down. You were finally broken out of the trance when he stopped, laughing as he looked down at you.

“Yer like a fish, distracted by anything shiny.” He teased as he set you down.

Now that you were able to look around, you could see that he brought you to a cave. He’d sat you in the middle on a nicely angled stone in the only patch of light that was filtering in from a hole at the top that was letting in the sun.

“Where are we?” You asked, turning to look at him again, only to find he’d disappeared.

Your head whipped around as you tried to spot him. He wouldn’t just leave you here, right?

His laughter bounced off the cave walls, making it impossible to pinpoint where he actually was. “A cave. Don’t worry, I scoped it out, ain’t nothin’ livin’ in here.”

“Okay... Why are we here, then?”

You spotted the bright flecks of his skin above you on a shaded overhang, lounged out on his stomach on the very edge, glowing yellow eye peering down at you. He grinned as you made eye contact, but you could only see it in the way his gaze narrowed.

“Cause I figured out why ya wouldn’t bite me.” He explained, not moving from his spot. “Too many people around ya, all the damn time! No way to getcha alone back at school, so...” his arms fanned out as if displaying the cave, “ta-da! Nobody’s gonna interrupt us here!”

“You... want me to bite you?” You asked, confused, watching his proud expression blink into blank.

“Yeah?”

“...Why?”

He blinked a few more times before propping himself up on his elbows to look at you better. You could see him a little better now, he almost looked offended.

“What’dya mean why?” He asked, hostility creeping into his tone as he leaned over the edge of the overhang. “Do ya not wanna bite me?”

You paused, trying to search your memory for any clue as to what he would be talking about and coming up blank. “Why would I?” Is what came out after a moment.

His brows furrowed as he pushed off the overhang, swimming over to you. He circled you slowly, searching your expression with each pass as his tail fin got closer and closer to holding you in place. When he finally stopped, his tail was wrapped loosely around you, almost like a threat, as he looked you dead in the eyes. He looked upset, confused... hurt?

“Why wouldn’t you?” He asked back with an angry pout. “Ya fixed my earring, didn’tcha? I didn’t even ask, ya just did it.”

You blinked rapidly at the whiplash, getting even more confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

His confused expression matched yours now, less upset than before as he moved in closer, examining your eyes for a moment before pulling back again and furrowed his brows like he was about to crack the code. Before you could ask any of the hundred questions dancing around your head, he popped the top button on your shirt and yanked your collar aside to see the bite mark. He met your eyes again, pointing at the mark.

“What is this?” It sounded more like he was explaining shapes to a toddler.

“That’s where you bit me.” You snapped, swatting his hand away only for him to lean in closer, tail tightening around you.

“What does it mean?”

You gave him another confused look as he stared you down steadily. Your eyes drifted away for a second as you thought about it, shaking your head as you met his eyes. “You said it was to say thank you? Helluva thanks, by the way, shit hurts.”

He looked confused again, searching your expression for any hint that you were messing around. Finding none, he narrowed his eyes at you for a second before smiling and tilting his head to the side.

“Shrimpy doesn’t know what the bite means~” He teased, tail squeezing you a bit tighter before letting go as he resumed his lazy circles around you. “Betcha didn’t know what fixin’ my earring meant either, huh? Oh shit, you probably didn’t know about our dance either!”

“What is happening right now...?” You sighed heavily, catching his eye every time he floated into your vision.

On one of his passes he scooped you up, moving to sit on the rock himself and placing you in his lap, one leg on either side of his tail. He grabbed you by the chin, tilting your head to the side to examine the bite closer as he laughed.

“That day in front of the museum,” he started quietly, close to your ear, “when I grabbed ya and threw ya outta the water... you remember?” You nodded slowly, feeling him smile against your jaw. “You thought it was fun, I thought that was real cute. That spinnin’ that I did was flirtin’, I was dancin' with ya.”

“What--?”

“So’s all the little things I getcha...” His hands moved down to your waist, ignoring the question he’d interrupted. “I was gettin’ pretty confused why you weren’t get me anything, til you fixed my earring...” He turned his head, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “See, jewelry’s real important for us merfolk. Gettin’ jewelry usually means a lot, means ya really care if you’re outside the family. Like ya wanna stick around. I thought it was real weird that ya used my own earring, but yer also poor. I thought that was your way of sayin’ ya wanted to stick around...” You glanced at his earring, surprised Floyd of all people had put so much meaning behind what you thought was just a kind gesture. Different cultures, you supposed. He nipped at your ear as you tried to turn to look at him, a warning to stay where you were. “S’why I bit ya... Means you’re mine.” His fingers tightened on your waist. “Thought that’s whatcha meant when ya fixed it...”

Your heart pitched at the sad tone in his voice. You knew the two of you had been flirting, turns out you didn’t know just how extensively. Your fingers flexed at his shoulders as he leaned the side of his head against yours, staring at the bite mark. What’s a bite, anyways? It got you where you ultimately wanted, which was dating Floyd. You sighed heavily, before leaning forward, and biting down as hard as you could on the same place he’d put yours. You heard his breath hitch before he broke into laughter, and you didn’t stop until you tasted blood mixed with the salt water. When he started to bleed, he tugged at your hair, pulling you off him. He looked delighted as he met your eye, tail fin snaking up behind you and wrapping around your waist.

“Aww, Shrimpyy~” He cooed, nuzzling his forehead against yours.

“Coulda just told me that’s what that was about.” You scoffed, gently rubbing the area around the wound you’d created.

He shrugged, rubbing his nose against yours as he pulled you tighter against his chest. “No backin’ out now~” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, about to quip back when he pulled you the rest of the way in, closing the distance. His lips were a lot softer than you expected as they moved against yours, sharp teeth nipping against your bottom lip when he grinned into the kiss. He tried to follow when you backed off, needing air, until he saw your hand fly to your neck. You needed air. He barely got out an “oh shit” as he unraveled his tail before he took off with you in his arms, speeding out of the cave and shooting up towards the surface. Once you broke the surface, he gave you a second to catch your breath.

"I didn't grab another potion." He laughed. "How long can you hold your breath?"

You rolled your eyes again, pulling him into another quick kiss. Quick turned sour as Floyd pulled you in, and you had a feeling there would be no such thing as a quick kiss with him.

::

“Ah, there you are, Yuu!” Jade called out as he approached you in the hallway, a delighted smile on his face.

“Hey Jade, what’s up?” You asked, ignoring how your friends shuffled off to the side to avoid Jade’s attention.

“I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your nuptials.” He beamed down at you.

“My what?”

“I was surprised when Floyd told me, of course,” he continued, ignoring your question, “it all happened very fast, and the two of you are so young, but isn’t that just the way of things?”

You looked desperately to your friends, Ace and Epel snickering and muttering to each other, Deuce looked shocked, and Jack was just shaking his head. There was no help to be found from any of them.

“Our mother is asking after you,” he kept going, making your head spin as you tried to process the information, “and I’m sure our father would also like to meet his new child-in-law--”

“Child-in-law?” You squeaked out.

“--so we will need to make arrangements for introductions.” He paused for a moment, tapping a knuckle against his chin as he thought. “The two of you have stirred up quite a fuss, I’m sure Mother will want to make plans for a more formal affair... We’ll have to see about getting a row boat...”

“Why do we need a boat?”

“Oi!” You didn’t have time to turn towards the voice before a notebook sailed over your head, smacking Jade square in the face. When it dropped, so did Jade’s serious expression, now sporting the usual mischievous grin that he had whenever he was messing with someone. Floyd came up beside you, resting an elbow on your shoulder as he did, glaring at his brother. “I just got ‘em hooked, don’t be all weird and scare ‘em off.”

“What, I can’t tease them anymore now that they’re my sibling-in-law?” Jade drawled.

“Least wait til I get Ma on board.” Floyd grumbled before stooping down and tossing you over his shoulder.

“Floyd, what does he mean “nuptials?”” You asked quickly, Ace and Epel cackling at your expense as he carried you off. “What does he mean “in-law?””

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI

MASTERLIST

---

I need. Twisted Beastmen and the like. To be more animalistic. Not necessarily like, physically, I don't meant that in the furry sense. I mean that in the 'they're part animal and it'd not just for show' sense.

I want beastmen with claw like nails. Where the cat-like ones tend to walk on their toes when not wearing shoes because it feels right. Where their eyes and pupils reflect the animals that they're partly of. With fangs and teeth appropriate for their species.

Ruggie making laughing noises at the active prospect of food. Whooping when in a fight and needing backup. Lowing when excited for a fight.

Leona roaring to get the whole dorm's attention. Chuffing in greeting at people he considers part of his pride. (He'll sometimes grunt at Cheka like a mother would to her cubs but will deny it.)

Jack barking at danger to warn others and howling to try and figure out where his pack is (he forgets they can't howl back, but Ruggie will sometimes low at him and Yuu definitely tries to howl back.)

I want to see Azul with the tips of his limbs in human form retain some of his octopus natural ability to camouflage. I want to see his hands always moving, grabbing something, holding something. Azul who might not have bones in human form with how flexible he is??

The tweels who aren't very active naturally during the day but get really hyperactive at night. Who bare their teeth at people when excited.

Che'nya who lounges in the sun on lazy days. Who's great at stretching and popping everywhere in his body if he needs to, to a concerning degree.

GIMME FEY WHO DONT ACT HUMAN

Malleus who snorts smoke when he's angry. Malleus who wear gloves because he got claws. Malleus who has a tail and wings outside of his dragon form sometimes.

Lilia who gets just a bit too excited at the prospect of a fight and spilling blood. Who can recognize a person by the smell of their blood. Who makes inhuman noises when too excited and gives off a very eldritch horror kind of vibe if he lets loose.

Sebek who can be found eating rocks sometimes. Who finds quiet in thunder and lightning. Who can move so smoothly and silently you don't know he's there until he opens his maw. Who has a lot of really sharp teeth for someone with a human mouth.

Just- gimme some animal, like, REALISM. PLEASE.

---

Can you write a floyd x touch starved reader because their family on earth isn't all that affectionate?

Squeeze First, Act Later

𝖆/𝖓: starting to post fics with no header because it keeps tweaking out TUMBLR WHY IT WAS WORKING FINE BEFORE and WOAH TWO IN ONE DAY?!

𝖙𝖜: none

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: floyd x touch starved!reader

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 990

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

Floyd Leech wasn’t exactly subtle about his affections. If he liked you, you knew it. If he really liked you, you were getting lifted, squished, teased, and dragged around like a personal toy. For most people, it was a lot.

But for you?

It was everything.

Because back home—on Earth—hugs were rare. Your family wasn’t bad, exactly. Just... cold. Distant. Not the kind to ruffle your hair or pull you into a sleepy cuddle on the couch. Not the kind to hold your hand when you were sad or lean against you just because.

And here was Floyd, invading your space from day one like he’d always belonged there.

At first, it overwhelmed you. All the sudden touch—arms slung around shoulders, hands tugging at your clothes, fingers flicking your forehead. But instead of shrinking away, you found yourself... craving it.

Needing it.

Even when he was teasing you, it felt like warmth in your chest. Like something had been frozen for a long time and was finally starting to thaw.

One lazy afternoon in Octavinelle, you sat on the couch in the lounge, head tilted back, eyes closed. Floyd plopped down beside you with zero warning, sprawling dramatically across your lap.

“Eeeeeh? You look all gloomy again,” he drawled, staring up at you upside-down. “You gonna cry or something?”

You blinked down at him. “No, just tired.”

He didn’t move. If anything, he melted further into you, head resting heavy against your thigh. One hand lazily reached up, fingers toying with yours.

You stiffened slightly at first—then let him. The casual intimacy made your heart squeeze, but you didn’t pull away.

Floyd’s sharp gaze flicked up to your face. “You always get all stiff when I touch you,” he said, tone unusually serious. “But you never stop me. Weird, huh?”

You swallowed, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not used to it.”

“Huh?” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Used to what?”

“…Being touched. My family wasn’t really... affectionate.”

Floyd stared at you. Not laughing. Not smirking. Just watching.

“Like, no hugs and stuff?” he asked after a pause.

You nodded.

“…That suuucks,” he finally muttered, as if personally offended. “No wonder you always look all surprised when I hug you. You’re like—‘whoa! what’s this??’” He mimicked your expression, then flopped back down dramatically.

You huffed a laugh.

He was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Hey, shrimpy.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna try it?”

“…Try what?”

“Hugs. All the time. No reason. Just ‘cause.”

Your breath caught. Slowly, you nodded.

Floyd sat up, wrapped his long arms around you, and pulled you into a tight squeeze. His chin rested on your shoulder, hair tickling your cheek.

“Like this?” he murmured.

You couldn’t speak. You just buried your face in his chest, fingers gripping the back of his jacket like you were afraid he’d disappear.

Floyd didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

From that day on, you never had to ask for affection. He gave it freely, generously, with all the intensity that was so him. And every touch, every nudge, every sudden arm slung over your shoulders, felt like rewriting a part of you that had gone too long without love.

It started with the small things.

Floyd wasn’t any less chaotic—he still skipped class, still dragged freshmen around by the collar, still threatened to squeeze anyone who annoyed him.

But there was a softness now. A strange, quiet shift that only those who knew him best could spot.

Azul noticed it first.

“Floyd,” he said one afternoon, eyeing the scene before him with a furrowed brow. “Why are you… braiding their hair?”

Floyd glanced up, lazily twisting another lock of your hair between his fingers.

“‘Cause I wanna, duh,” he grinned. “Shrimpy said no one ever played with their hair before. So I’m makin’ up for lost time.”

Azul stared. You were seated on the floor between Floyd’s knees, shoulders relaxed and eyes half-lidded in contentment. If Azul didn’t know better, he’d have said you were about to fall asleep right there in Floyd’s lap.

That was new.

“…I see,” Azul said, adjusting his glasses. “Just don’t skip your shift again. We have guests at seven.”

“Uh-huh,” Floyd hummed, clearly not listening. He patted your head twice—gently, as if memorizing the shape of it. “Shrimpy first, work later.”

Azul opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. There was no menace in Floyd’s voice. No biting sarcasm. Just something warm and unfamiliar.

Jade, meanwhile, had been watching this change with quiet fascination.

Later that night, while Azul reviewed the lounge’s earnings and Floyd dozed off with his head on your shoulder in the back booth, Jade leaned over and said softly, “I think he’s happier.”

Azul glanced over the rim of his teacup. “Hm?”

“Floyd,” Jade said, smiling faintly. “He’s been more even-tempered. He hasn’t threatened to sink anyone in days.”

“That’s… unsettling.”

“And he lets them hold his hand.”

Azul choked slightly on his tea.

Floyd Leech, who bit people for touching him wrong, letting someone hold his hand?

“You think they’re—?” Azul asked, eyes narrowing.

“In some way,” Jade mused. “Floyd doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Azul’s gaze drifted back toward the two of you. Your hand was loosely linked with Floyd’s, his fingers curled around yours even in sleep. You looked peaceful.

And Floyd, for once, didn’t look like a live wire about to snap.

Azul exhaled. “If this makes him easier to work with, I won’t complain.”

Jade chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I wouldn’t say easier. But definitely more tender.”

Later, as you gently brushed Floyd’s bangs from his face, you murmured, “You okay with them watching us like that?”

“Mhm,” Floyd mumbled without opening his eyes. “Lemme show off. I like bein’ yours.”

You smiled. “I like being yours too.”

He cracked one eye open, grin sharp but affectionate.

“Then I’m gonna keep touchin’ you until you never feel lonely again.”

And true to his word—he did.

credit to @fae-and-wolf for divider

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