🕺 Time To Ask For More Jade Thought Cause Ye Say Ye Shall Receive Also Again I Just Like Hearing Thoughts

Hey, you know the disney princesses with their sparkly dress?

yeah i wasted my time putting glitters on the dorm leaders cuz this what happens when you put all of your brain cells on your exam

and i even went as far as remaking the logo too—

I hate myself so fkn much :'))

I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT-- HELP???

Rook may be holding the brain cell but the true question is: is he willing to use it?

THATS SO CUTE he's just happy to be included!! he likes to hear what his friends have to say!! actually, Silver and Kalim friendship is a canon thing (see here) and it's so cute, their dynamic is basically:

THIS EDIT IS SO FUNNY THO CHERRY YOU'VE GOT AMAZING EDITING SKILLS

I actually do have a strong opinion on who should be who:

Kalim would be Blossom, both are leaders and although people tend to confuse Kalim's naivety for stupidity that's not true! he's the leader of Scarabia, the dorm of mindfulness! he's also a peacemaker, naturally caring and, as you said, red is pretty close to pink. I don't think he's that mature or level-headed (that's more like Silver), nor is he vain and overly analytical (that's more like Rook), but he's still the best for this role!

Silver would be Bubbles, both are more introverted and get along with animals (like disney princesses), he's also sweet and calmer. He's not naive and joyful (like Kalim) nor independent and sensitive (like Rook), but I think he would look pretty in blue!

Rook would be Buttercup more through a process of elimination honestly, he is stubborn, brave and a tough figther like her, though he isn't as hotheaded (I don't think any of them are).

in conclusion: LIGHT TRIO AS POWERPUFF GIRLS SO TRUE

You talked about Rook talking and I just remembered how much I want the light trio to have more interactions bc Rook talking [in French poetry], Kalim just laughing all the way and Silver taking everything at face value and dropping a "once my old man made fried pineapple with caramel soup for diner" talk about a good neutral chaotic group

OMG CHERRY. YOUR BRAAAIIINNN!!!!!!! I've never thought about this trio before but you're so right, they would be delightful to watch

like. Kalim wouldn't get freaked out by whatever Rook says, be it because it's super corny or super creepy. I think he'd just like to listen to it and maybe even like it??? him just going "oh thats very nice I wanna make poetry too!!" and just start saying some nonsensical thing alongside him (Jamil is about to get a headache). meanwhile Silver is just vibing there. I don't think he'd get roped into the senanigans as easily as Kalim but he's be passively participating. just listening. yes Rook that's very nice, but you know what's even nicer? your voice tone helping me fall asleep. people passing by the courtyard just find Silver napping while Kalim and Rook are talking in a code only they can understand (Jamil screams at the background, looking for Kalim). Rook thinks it's truly magnifiqué. in the cases Silver is not asleep he tries to add his two cents in with something he remember one of the Diasomnia members saying before (especially Lilia), even if it isn't connected at all to what they were saying before, Rook would think the father-son bond is beautiful and Kalim would think that's really nice how his friend gets along so well with his dad!!

Rook is CARRYING the chaotic energy, he's a true chaotic chaotic (morality is beautiful why should he stick to only one thing if he can experience all beautiful things!!) Silver is the calmer one, being more lawful neutral. Kalim is good chaotic, so he's like the balance between them. and thus, the powerpuff girls were created

you've opened my mind to this trio and now I'm going to think about the possibilities, thank you

CHERRY I'M GIGGLING OUT LOUD AT THIS

"please spare a moment to hear about our most wonderful club full of fascinating activities -PUT THE BROOM AWAY- I'm sure you'll love it if you give it a chance!!! I even brought a mushroom casserole of questionable quality for you 🥺 -I SAID TO PUT THE BROOM AWAY-"

instead of running to the sunset we run to the sunrise while you chase us away from your house (for now)

No one:

Jade: Let me tell you about the wonderful Mountain Lovers Club

AMORA THERE ARE ACTUAL HAPPY TEARS ON MY EYES RN YOU'RE THE SWEETEST 😭😭😭

I totally get being super busy, you've got this!! I'm sure it'll all turn out just fine!

[Valentine's first winter - Riddle Rosehearts]

Summary: Through the haziness of his sickness, your light shines through. You stay by his side and Riddle's heart blossoms for you.

Notes: gn!reader, sickfic, fluff, could be read as a continuation of my other Riddle oneshot but it's not necessary to understand, super self indulgent, established relationship, Riddle's mother is it's own warning

Spring is the time for warmth, the time to watch the flowers bloom and appreciate the calming breeze. Winter is the contrary, it's the time for the chill, the time for the skies to open and cry onto the earth. 

Riddle usually was prepared for such times, of course. He'd check the weather cast everyday to make sure to bring an umbrella or a coat with him and text you to do the same. The thing is, he was also very busy, what with the finals weeks and winter vacation coming, as the Housewarden he had to deal with more paperwork than usual and keep an eye on the Heartslabyul's students to make sure they were keeping up with their studies. Since Trey wasn't the vice housewarden anymore, having moved on to the next grade and doing his reasearch somewhere at the Queendom of Roses, Riddle had more work than he was used to.

You made sure to check on him, reminding him to take breaks periodically. You even went to his room yourself, a tray of hand made sweets and tea in your hands. Riddle could feel the warmth of spring through his entire being as he looked at your gentle smile. He'd stop everything he was doing to spend some time with you, talking about your days in a way that brought peace for his soul for a moment, no thoughts spared for the mountains of paperwork left to do.

Still, it was due to having such a stressful schedule that he got too caught up with his work and forgot to check the weather cast one day. It was only one day, a little slip, but it cost him. On that day, Lady Luck turned her head away from him and the heavens poured onto the campus of NRC. What's worst, Riddle had been on the botanical garden when it happened, tending to his alchemy experiment. He only noticed the downpour once it was too late to run back safely, getting caught in the middle of it.

And that's how Riddle Rosehearts found himself on the nurse's office, body burning up and cursing his unattentiveness.

Riddle remembers when he got sick once, as a child. He felt terrible, hot all over, sweating and dizzy. What's worse, he couldn't concentrate on his books at all, his eyes felt heavy and kept closing on their own. He just wanted to sleep, but he still had to finish one exercise. His hands trembled as he tried to write some gibberish, he'd never felt so bad before. His eyes watered and his vision was blurry, words getting mixed with the others, although there was one thing he could see clear as day. His mother disappointed face as she came to check on him. 

She put the back of her hand against his forehead and the cold felt so good against his burning skin, he couldn't help but lean into it, closing his eyes in relief and letting out a whimper. The sensation was gone sooner than it appeared, leaving Riddle to almost topple over with the weight of his own head. She said something about him not listening when she warned him about the climate change, as winter approaching tended to bring such colds. He couldn't listen properly, his head was full of mush, he could barely keep his eyes open. She tutted and grabbed him by the arm, getting him up so fast he felt like throwing up, his vision blacking out for a second and losing his footing, only that firm brusing hand on his arm keeping him up. 

She took him to his bed and gave him some bitter medicine, telling him to stay put for the rest of the day. He obliged, as always, what else could he do? His mother was a doctor, she knew what she was talking about. He knew she had better, more important things to do than look for her disobedient son that went and got himself sick. She's a busy woman, so busy that outside of lessons he almost never saw her. He understood, she had to work hard to keep herself at the top, and that meant she didn't have much free time to spare him. Still, he felt very lonely in such a vulnerable state. Alone in his room, the aching in his chest felt worse than the cold. The red of the wall burnt his eyes, so he burried himself on the covers, still sweating, hugged his pillow on his chest and wished, desperately hoped, for it to go away soon.

The sensations from back then come to haunt him again. There's shivers breaking out on his body but his skin burns, he can't decide if he's running too cold or too hot or too much. His muscles weight a ton, holding him back on the bed, making his movements sluggish. He wants to rip out his vocal cords and weave new ones, ones that won't grant on his ears and won't rasp his throat with every syllable.

He can hear the door opening. It's not the nurse, but you. Through the haziness of his sickness, your light shines through. You stay by his side and Riddle's heart blossoms for you.

You have a worried look in your eyes as you pull a chair to sit next to his bed, eyeing him with concern. He hates that he's a bother, that he caused you distress over something so easily avoidable. Even so, your presence washes over him as if cleansing his soul. He's glad to see you, he realizes. He's glad to not be left alone.

There's a cup of water in your hands, and he gladly takes it, greedily downing it. The liquid freezes all the way down his throat, his flaring insides lapping it up, he wants to drink more and more. Your hand takes his and makes him slow down, least he chokes. It's a little thing, but this simple gesture makes his insides flutter. You take the glass from his hands once he's done, putting it on the bedside table and focusing your whole attention on him. He wants to drink up the sight of you.

The way Riddle looks at you leaves you breathless, fever ridden lidded eyes glancing through his lashes as if you were everything he could ever need. You hung up the stars on the sky, you painted every color of the sunset, you were the sun and the moon, the cosmos itself. He looked with so much adoration, as if he couldn't believe that you were still there, with him of all people. Him. You choose him and you stayed with him and he was so, so grateful for it.

You call out his name softly, oh so softly, and give him a kiss on the forehead, your lips leaving a tingling sensation. He wanted to berate you, to tell you to not that, since you could get sick too, but no word left his sore throat, he couldn't gather the strenght to protest against something that felt so good. Instead, he lets the words that run through his mind leave his tongue, unfiltered.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me, you have more important things to care about."

You smile, a bittersweet thing, eyes contemplating, as if asking youself 'doesn't he get it?' He's not in the best state to read your expression, though. You tenderly put your hand on his forehead, moving some hair sticking there and feeling his warmth. He leans into the touch, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips.

"Oh, Riddle, I'm taking care of something important. In fact, I can't think of a single thing that could be more important than you. The rest can wait, I want to make sure you're ok first and foremost."

Riddle's eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. What could he say to that? His vision blurries, but he isn't sure if it's because of the fever or something else. Maybe it has something to do with the way your eyes gaze at him, so full of unfiltered love that Riddle could never doubt a word that falls from your lips, doesn't matter if they seem too good to be true.

You giggle at his cute dumbfounded expression, teasing him a little. "Cat got your tongue?"

He pouts, cheeks puffing up a bit and turns his head away. It's extremely endearing, you can't help but let out a laugh. Your hand run through his bangs, taking them off his sweaty skin, massaging his temples. He closes his eyes, pure relief flowing through him.

It felt nice to be taken care of like this, the simple comfort of your steady presence by his side made him feel like he was safe, like it would be alright, that he could let go and trust you'd take care of him. He wanted to grip onto this feelings and not let go, let them fill him up and chase the disease out of his system. One of his hands lifted to cover yours that was still in his forehead, a childish impulse to make sure you'd stay. You let out another soft laugh, the sound being enough to make him breath better, lifting a weight from his chest. You'd stay, he was sure of it. You always do.

Still, Riddle felt disgusting, runny nose and sticky skin, face as red as his hair. He wanted to get out of his dermis, rinse his bones until they shined and stopped feeling like that, unbearably dirty. But you didn't move away from him, your expression was always that of worry and fondness, never of disgust. "I'd never be disgusted of you, Riddle." You murmur, and he must have let his thoughts slip through his loose tongue. "It's a normal reaction, you can't control it. There's no reason to feel ashamed." It's so easy to fall for your words, so easy to let himself fully believe in them, so easy to accept the reassurance.

Riddle can take care of himself. He doesn't need to be babied and he doesn't need anyone's pity. He wants to do things his way, he doesn't want to depend on anyone, doesn't want to look weak. But your gentle voice echoes in his head, saying that's ok to ask for help. He doesn't need to do everything alone, he can count on you. And he trusts you so much, with his entire soul, so he lets you stay by his side. He knows that once he wakes up, you'll still be there. You always stay. 

"Rest up, dear." Your voice hypnotizes him, there's no way to not listen when you hold so much fondness in a single word, a single word that makes his heartbeat run faster and a his lips curl upwards.

He lets himself fall freely in the feeling of your love. Your breathing lulling him to sleep, his fingers gripping your hand and not letting go. His eyes close softly, naturally, and the tension seeps away from his body. You'll take good care of him, he's sure. You'll hold his worries in your hands, taking them out of his mind to let him rest.

There's no doubt in his mind that what he feels is love. Outside, the harsh winds of winter cut through the sky. Inside, the soft warmth of spring envelops his sleep.

Masterlist

[ ✽ ] ˖ ˚ ◞ ┊ʺ CAMPUS CRUSHING WITH OCTAVINELLE

[ ✽ ] ┊⠀❛ the twst boys as campus crushes has been keeping me up at night. i’ll come at you with my hcs of this each day or so for a different dorm. my victims today are OCTAVINELLE 

[ ✽ ] ┊⠀❛ gender neutral reader

[ ✽ ] ┊⠀❛ warnings ,, mentions of making out in azul’s, fungi mentions in jade’s. fluff <33

[ ✽ ] ┊⠀❛ been a minute since i posted anything so here we get another installation of campus crushing <33 and with the fish mafia too

you can’t tell me that…

azul isn’t that smartass that you sit next to in economics. it got to a point where you were more than sure he had to have been a computer. at least he’s pretty to look at, not that you’d ever admit it aloud. he’s actually had his eye on you since that one time you let him borrow a dark blue ballpoint pen since he forget his. your so kind, and smart, and beautiful—and your conveniently in need of help in economics. so, he makes this elaborate plan to get you to study with him and eventually you give in. the study, not-a-date, is going well until you and azul finally catch each other in a stare off. neither of you were sneaky enough to keep the other from noticing each other’s wandering gaze. part of you wanted to shut the books and leap over the dining table to make-out with him. how would he react had your lips pressed his own? you were about to speak, but instead, azul spoke. “ i don’t think either of us are particularly interested in studying any longer. we should do something else, ”

you can’t tell me that…

floyd isn’t that hot guy on the basketball team who is constantly bothering you, his friend from high school, to become team manager. it would be easier just to agree at this point. he’s always talking about how the extracurricular points would look good on your resume, even though he quite frankly doesn’t know the first thing about resumes, nor does he care for them at all. he just wants to spend even more time with you. your differing majors and paths ended up pulling you both apart slowly and he wanted to stop that somehow. so, after days and days of bother you, and buying your lunches, you finally caved and became the team manager. surprisingly enough, you ended up having a lot of fun, and you got even closer to floyd. close enough to say you were head over heels for him. you didn’t blame yourself, though. you couldn’t, not when each big game he pointed at you and called you his lucky charm. “ this one’s for you ! “

you can’t tell me that…

jade isn’t that mysterious guy in your nature studies class. he always looks so enthralled with the plants around him, his eyes never seeming to drift off and his heart completely in it. you once worked on a project with him and figured out that he was organized as he was passionate. all it took was one joke about shiitake mushrooms being avid gossipers, and he was in love with you. he even began meeting you in the hall, escorting you to your classes while he went on and on about his love for fungi. he was still enigmatic, and there was still way more you needed to learn about him before you’d be completely comfortable in his presence, but his endearing love for mushrooms felt so innocent that had he wanted to trap you, you would have walked straight into it. it was hard not to fall. jade was beautiful as he was charming, and you couldn’t resist his voice when he said, “ let’s go on a little camping trip. just the two of us and the sky above. “

tags ,,, @ghost-hyacinth @yakoko @pandoa @idiaia​ @sleepybunboo @mlk082​

dm me or send an ask if you’d like to be on it as well !

THANK YOU I LIKE YOUR FANCY WORDS !!!

me creating this in my lab while I conduct a little experiment on Azul and eximine his insides closely and pick him apart !!

[I refuse to drown - Azul Ashengrotto]

Summary: He had hurt you. Azul had hurt you and he wasn't sure how he could ever forgive himself, the guilt gnawing at his core. Despite that, you still smile at him. 

Notes: reader and azul knew each other before chapter 3, gn!reader, angst and hurt/comfort, self deprecating thoughts, some mentions of blood, injury and death but none too graphic, not proof read

Azul had lost everything.

Everything he had built painstakingly for years, crawling himself from the bottom of the depths, that he exhausted himself for, that he carefully planned and gained through his hard work. Gone, just like that, floating away in the wind the same way the sand of the beach is carried away by the waves.

But, the worst of all: he lost control. 

Control of himself, his actions and his mind. Azul couldn't remember what happened after seeing his contracts disintegrating, only that he felt more despair than ever before. Even when he was isolated and mocked by the other merman, he's never felt such helplessness, such anguish, such misery. 

His mind was muddy, he didn't feel like he was in his body. Why would it matter, anyway? It was all gone, gone, gone. 

He let himself drown in the feeling.

Drowning was a strange sensation. Azul, being a merman, never thought he could experience it, but Night Raven College was full of surprises. His lungs felt full, an inky substance occupying where once was air. His vision was dark, as if he had fallen into an abyss. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Azul didn't know which was worse, the hopeless feelings or the lack thereof. 

He stayed floating into nothingness for a while. He wasn't conscious, but he was. He was there, but he wasn't. He didn't have a body, but he did. If he could manage to string a coherent thought together, it might have been something like this: "Is this what death looks like?" Perhaps if he could muster enough strenght to feel something, he might have felt regret for all the things he still had left to do.

If he looked deep into himself, deeper than he was willing to, he might have found that he regretted making you sign one of his rigged contracts and dragging you into this mess. He should have known better than understimating you, he should have known that something like this would happen. After all, you were amazing enough to catch his attention. What made him think you wouldn't be amazing enough to find a way out of his deal? What made him think Jade and Floyd would be enough to disencourage you? What made him think someone like him, so dirty and insicere, could ever dampen someone like you, so determined and bright?

He didn't think about any of it. He didn't think about anything.

The first thing Azul felt when he came back to his senses was light against his eyelids. He was back at the surface. His body ached all over but his lungs no longer bled that viscous black liquid and he felt alive once more. He was still alive.

He could smell a familiar scent, one that he was used to smelling back at the Coral Sea, so used to he didn't identify it a first. He heard shouting that seemed to be miles away and right by his ear at the same time. His slugish head couldn't distinguish what was being said by whom, but he could swear he heard your name, it's mention alone being enough to jolt eletricity back into his being and keep him awake. There were hurried footsteps getting farther away and he finally recognized what the smell was. It was the metalic smell of blood.

He tried to open his eyes but the bright lights of Mostro Lounge burned them, so he kept them tightly shut. He couldn't get up, his legs hurt more than any other part of his body. What had happened? He couldn't have... could he? The last thing he could remember happening before passing out was... oh.

Oh. He did. Azul had an overblot.

His breath hitched, but he forced himself to keep breathing in the air, to keep the blot out, out of his system and out of his lungs and out of his veins and out out out of him. He bit his tounge, clenched his fists and forced his sore eyes to open.

The contracts, they were gone. His life's work. He had made a fool of himself in front of another housewarden. He had an overblot and put everyone in danger. He had put you in danger.

Jade and Floyd were by his side. They were talking to him, but he couldn't register the words. His head was underwater, the pressure weighting him down, his ears filled with water and dripping, dripping, dripping.

He could still smell the blood. Ah, it felt just like home.

Azul looked at his lower half, almost sure in some hysterical part of his brain that he would find his tentacles there. His legs laid on the floor, clean and useless. He breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he couldn't help but wish the blood was his.

He got the gist of what the twins were saying. Leona destroyed the contracts and you had managed to adquire his childhood photo. They were mocking him for the tantrum he threw, but he could tell they were worried. There wasn't much force behind the half hearted taunts and no matter how much they tried to hide, Azul knew them just like they knew him. They were aggravated at what happened as well, no matter how much they pretended they couldn't care less.

"What would you like us to do about the photo?" 

"I'm pretty sure we could just snatch it up with how shrimpy is now, but man, I'm not in the mood for it."

"...I don't care about the photo anymore. Tell me, what happened to the prefect?"

Jade looked at him with pity and Floyd's mood deteriorated. There was a bottomless pit of dread at his stomach, his throat felt dry all of sudden. His eyes burned, but no tears fell from them. When had his breathing become so erratic?

As soon as the twins broke the news to him, Azul tried to stand up and see you, not caring for how much his legs ached and hurt and screamed at him to stay down. Good, he thought with venom, so much loathing and disdain it left a sour feeling in his mouth, they better be hurting after what he'd done. He deserves worse.

Jade helped him balance himself on his legs and Floyd laughed at his clumsy footing, as if it was the first time the three of them set foot on land and were just learning how to walk. Azul felt like he had been stripped from his tentacles and siphon all over again. He had been stripped from his skin and from his mind, had been laid open and bare and vulnerable for all to see, had his chest teared apart and his lungs leaking onto the floor.

Once they arrived at the infirmary, Azul was almost jumped by your friends. The Heartslabyul duo and the young Savanaclaw seemed ready to plummet him to the ground, no care for his condition, if it weren't for Jade and Floyd tanking him by both sides like bodyguards. Azul was glad they didn't care, he was glad they worried so much about you. He would have let them hit him and taken the beating, there wasn't much of his pride left to salvage anyway.

The school nurse had just finished attending you and promptly went to work on his injuries. The Headmaster appeared at the infirmary right after Azul was discharged, no doubt already knowing what happened. He had never seem Crowley look as serious as he did when he asked for the three of them to accompany him to his office. 

Azul's body was exhausted, he clearly needed to rest. Still, he agreed without a fuss, the twins following him closely from behind. He could feel Jade's gaze burning the back of his neck, but he couldn't gather enough energy to care for whatever was going on the eelmer's mind. He felt empty, almost hollow. Frighteningly so, like he was still on that void state, disconnected from his body. Was he even awake?

The talk with the Headmaster was a long and tiring one. At the end of it, Azul accepted the new terms for him to keep running Mostro Lounge at the school, gripping tightly to the only thing he had left. He couldn't lose his beloved restaurant alongside everything else, it would be too much, more than he could handle.

It was dark by the time they were excused to go back to their dorm. Azul felt and looked like a mess, not like the businessman he took pride in being. His hair was dishevelled, there were eyebags under his eyes and his mouth was set in a firm line for a while, not managing much more emoting. 

There was a restlessness under his skin, on his muscles, deep in his bones, down onto every single cell. No matter how worn out he was, there was no way he would be able to sit back. Not until he saw you with his own eyes, saw exactly how much damage he had caused. 

He wasn't able to muster up the courage to look the twins in the face as he told them to go ahead, that he had something to do. Luckly, they decided he had suffered enough and didn't kick up much of a fuss before leaving him alone.

The walk to the infirmary felt like a fever dream, too long and too short at the same time. Azul wondered if your friends were still there at this time, if you were awake, if he was even allowed to enter. He stayed rooted in front of the entrance, trying to gather every last bit of confidence to put up his usual serene façade. 

He wouldn't let you see how affected he was by the whole ordeal. This wasn't supposed to be about him, he wanted to take a look at you. You, who had been nothing but friendly to him, who had caught his attention early on, who spent time with him at Mostro Lounge, who he admired so much, who wormed your way into his heart and refused to leave.

Azul was afraid you hated him now, but by the Sevens how much he wished you did. Why wouldn't you, after he tried to scam you out of your house and almost got you killed. All for his selfishness, for his stupid pride and greed. He was ready for you to scream at him, to hit him, say you never wanted to see him again. Even if the mere thought was enough for him to feel like throwing up, he knew it would be better if he stayed away from you and your light. That way, he wouldn't hurt you again, never again.

Steeling himself with the fakiest smile on his face, he pushed the door open, hands shaking.

The infirmary was quiet, no one in sight save for you. You were laying on one of the first beds, a peaceful expression on your face. You looked beautiful. You always did, to him. There were bandages all over where your skin was visible. Azul could feel the guilt choking him. How could he have the audacity to come talk to you after he was the one that did this?

He turned around and was about to leave when he heard you whisper. It was spoken so softly he wouldn't have heard at all if he wasn't hyperaware of you. "Stay." 

Azul stayed. He could never deny anything you asked for. Especially not when you sounded so pleading, when you looked at him like that.

There was a chair next to your bed, so umconfortable looking as it must feel. But it was the best way to stay closer to you, so he sat on it, waiting for you to drop the guillotine over his head for his sins. 

The silence was suffocating, denser than the pressure at the bottom of the ocean. He wanted you to say something, anything. His gaze was on the floor, lips pulled back, brows furrowed. If he closed his eyes, only the darkness would welcome him, swallow him whole, so he kept them stubbornly open.

"Azul." It felt like a blessing, like a drop of water after walking through the desert, like a warm embrace. Azul relished the way you said his name, the delicious entonation as your tongue rolled over every letter. He wanted to beg you to say it again and again. The only thing he does is lifting his head to look at you.

The proximity between you two was startling. He hadn't noticed how close you were, hadn't noticed you raising your hand, hadn't noticed the shine in your eye. He thought you were about to slap him, but couldn't drag his stare away from your eyes. They looked so gentle, so full of... something. He wouldn't dare try to name the emotion behind them, wouldn't dare hope.

Your hand made contact with his cheek, making him flinch lightly. There was no sting, only your warmth as you held his face. Your fingers left burning imprints where they touched, marked him from the inside out. Wide blue eyes meet your affectionate ones, so open and honest. Why were you being so gentle to him? Acting like nothing happened, like things were the same as before this whole mess occurred. 

"I'm glad." You confess softly, a secret meant only for the two of you, thumb brushing against his cheeks as he leans into your touch and lets himself melt into it while he still can. "I'm glad you're alright, Azul." 

"How can you say that when you're the one laying on a hospital bed?" His voice falls flat, trying to hide his emotions. But he's a cracked shell, his insides are spilling out into your palms, plain for you to pick apart and analyse as you please.

You smile, your joy is so sincere Azul can feel his eyes burn with unshead tears. How could he ever hurt someone like you? How could you still look at him without an once of hatred or disguist or fear?

"I was worried about you." You state as if it was the simplest thing in the world, because it is, to you. The sky is blue, the ocean is cold and you care about Azul. You say as if you aren't shattering his last bits of composure, as if you aren't breaking his heart into little jagged pieces. 

"Don't say that." He manages to choke out, as if the mere words hurt his throat, voice watery and breaking. "Please, don't say that." The 'I don't deserve it' is not said out loud, but both of you can hear it.

"How can I not? It's the truth." His tears flow freely, no longer under his control as he feels the urge to sob, to beg for forgiveness, to hide and never see you again in fear of hurting you. Only you had this effect on him, only you could break his barriers and composure so easily. 

You brush his tears away, whispering reassurances. Wasn't him supposed to be the one reassuring you? He had come to see how you were, to apologize, to let you scream at him, anything. He could take it if you hated him, he would understand, but how could your gaze still hold so much fondness in it, so much love? The guilt shatters him, pierces his heart, make his sobs louder. How cruel could your kindness be?

He had hurt you. Azul had hurt you and he wasn't sure how he could ever forgive himself, the guilt gnawing at his core. Despite that, you still smile at him. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats, over and over. You say you forgive him, but he keeps going until his voice is hoarse. You don't, no, you can't understand it. You did nothing wrong, you're not like him, hands stained with blood and rot. He lets his guilt out before it festers and consumes him. It isn't enough to make up to you, although it does make him feel a little bit better, to let it all out like this.

You don't lie to him. You don't say it wasn't his fault or that he wasn't in the wrong, but you don't rub it in either. Azul appreciates it, the sincerity. He knows you can hold him accountable when the time is right. For now, you comfort him. You tell him how nobody else could put such effective notes together, how determinated and hardworking he is. How his past doesn't define him and how he has greater strenghts than any magic. He drinks every word up, commiting them to memory.

As his tears seem to dry out alongside his voice, you pull him closer to yourself. He submerges himself into you, your scent, your voice, your touch. He would happily let himself drown on the sensation. You just hold him, rubbing circles on his back and lending him your shoulder. 

It's like time has frozen over. Azul wishes it had. He could stay like this with you for hours if you'd let him, although he doesn't feel ready to admit it, be it to you or to himself. 

Everything is not right. You're still hurt, his contracts are still gone and Azul still feels wrong, the effects of the overblot lingering underneath his skin. His reputation took a significant blow and he'll have to change the method he's always used to work at his own establishment. 

But not all is lost, either. He can start over, the right way this time. You'll be by his side, cheering him on. There's a long road to improvement and Azul has never been one to get scared by such things. He'll put his efforts on getting back on his feet and breaking the surface of the water, as he refuses to drown. 

The late hour weights on your tired bodies, causing you to yawn, your hold on him getting laxer. With the way his body aches, he wouldn't be able to go back to Octavinelle. In fact, he doesn't feel able to move from the chair he is in. He doesn't want to leave you from his sight, to lose your touch. 

You ask him to keep you company, prompting him to lay his head on your lap, an umconfortable position, as he has to bend his torso to reach it, but he doesn't mind. Just having you nearby will be enough. One of your hands interlock your fingers with his and the other plays with his hair as you hum, not letting the silence engulf the room. He's beyond grateful for that, for how you just seem to know what he needs and is more than willing to give it to him. He's never been handled with such care before, like he's wanted, like he's precious. It makes his body feel warm and he basks on it.

He waits until you stop your ministrations, until your breathing evens out and it's just him alone with his thoughts. He keeps his eyes shut, as he knows that if he dared to glance at your sleeping face his heart would burst with affection, the feelings he's trying to rein in exploding from his chest. 

Azul only has made a promise to himself once, when he was a little kid being bullied by his peers, eager to prove them wrong, to prove he could be better than their expectations. Now, he makes a new promise, to protect you and your kindness, to never let someone, least him, hurt you again, to make up for his own shortcomings and become someone you can be proud of.

He loses consciousness for the second time that day, but this time he knows he's alive. He feels it in the way his heart beats in sync with yours, the way his breaths come out from his mouth, the way your fingers are laced with his. 

Azul is alive and swimming to the surface, as he refuses to drown.

Masterlist

my favorite card 🫶

jade’s ssr halloween card !

Short little thing of when Malleus first met Silver

I AM LITERALLY GOING TO CRY U REBLOGGED MY WORK AND UR TAGS ARE SO SWEET OMG 😭😭😭😭😭 U HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME (im sleepy-yet-intruiged!)

HI SLEEPY!!!

OFC I REBLOGGED IT, YOU WRITE REALLY WELL!! like that's your first writing???? it's very good, I like the formating a lot and the sweetness appeals to me (fluff lover)!! don't worry about characterization too much, you'll get the hang of it as you write more requests, so focus on having fun!! you're doing great, keep it up <33

— "THE PRINCESS TREATMENT." various

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend and the different ways he pampers and spoils you rotten ♡

⊹ [ cw ] — mentions of winter storms, prefect is implied to have bad living conditions, mild violence in the tweels parts, jade breaks someone's wrist, crowley slander, ace slander◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY! feminine reader! no gendered pronouns used, riddle uses his dorm position to spoil you, seeing trey driving is very hot, deuce biceps, leona and azul sugar daddy era, ruggie would rather freeze to death than have you be cold, jack carries you, jade and floyd will fight for you, rook makes you his muse and paints you, malleus renovates the entire diasomnia dorm for you, sebek carries your pink handbags◞

⊹ [ characters ] — riddle, trey, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, rook, malleus, sebek◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 4.9k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

—♰ RIDDLE

Princess treatment, Like—literally

Loathe is Riddle to admit—He can't deny the fact that being his lover meant you got special treatment. Prime example being your position at unbirthday parties. At the banquet table, just beside Riddle's designated throne, was your throne. Similar in style, it had a heart-shaped crest and golden frame; the only difference was that it was milky white rather than deep red. And despite his best efforts to downplay the favoritism shown to you, Riddle knows for a fact that he had the throne commissioned himself.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Come with me." The dorm leader says as he moves towards you, leading you towards your throne. He didn't fail to notice how your legs shook slightly as you walked alongside him or how your hands didn’t leave his coat once. Not that he minded.

The redhead clasped your hands in his as he sat you down onto the leather seat before adjusting the train of your dress to ensure that it wouldn't bother you.

"How are you fairing?" Riddle asked softly, kneeling before you to slip a leather-clad hand behind your knees. He set your feet up on a plush stool and slipped your pointed heels off, gently caressing your ankles. "I overheard you earlier, griping about your feet aching. I certainly hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

"Ah, no. I just chose the wrong heels today. They're too pointy." You sighed, poking at your crimson red heels, which were discarded to the grassy sides. Groaning, you reclined back on your throne, the billowing, fluffy skirt of the dress Riddle had recently gifted tumbling all about you.

"I see." Riddle nodded in understanding, taking your hand and pressing a quick gentlemanly kiss on your wrists. "The croquet game is up next. I suppose you'd rather stay here?"

"Yeah, I think I need some alone time," you sigh. Riddle squeezes once more your hand in reply, letting his eyes shut in contemplation.

"Very well," He hums, moving to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Do rest here a while, rose."

There was a soft smile as the leather of his hands glide across your back. "Oh, and, please let a member of my dorm know if you ever need anything. Worry not. I've instructed everyone here to be at your beck and call."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ TREY

Passenger princess treatment<3

Every weekend, it was routine for Trey to whisk you away from your beaten-up dorm. After all, he was sure it was nice to spend the day in a place where you weren't inhaling dust and spiders every second. Both of you would always go over to his parent's café in the city for a simple little brunch date. And without fail, Trey would always pick you up at 9am sharp by the school gates.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"… I was made for lovin' you, baby

You were made for lovin' me

And I can't get enough of you, baby

Can you get enough of me?"

— ♰  DEUCE

Soft music played from the car's radio as the third-year weaved through the barren intersections, careful and slow. It seems as if the roads were merciful to you both today, calm and free of any traffic.

Trey languidly reaches one of his hands, calloused from his years of baking, over to rest gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs soft circles and nonsensical patterns over your plump skin while the other gripped the steering wheel in a loose hold, biceps flexing as he twisted the wheel to turn the car.

Focused as he was, you didn't miss how his gaze flits back and forth between the road and you, the expression swimming within them almost akin to a distant longing.

You place your hand atop his and lean against the passenger door. A wide grin spreads over your glossy red lips as you shake your head playfully. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Mirthful laughter spills from your mouth before your eyes flutter shut as you sway along to the song, mindlessly kicking your legs around. "Crashing and going to the hospital doesn't really sound like a good date idea."

A pensive smile creeps up on Trey's face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah? I just can't help it. You're a much more interesting sight."

He watched as the sun's dazzling light bathed your image in a beautiful, pleasant glow. To him, you looked ethereal, seemingly glowing and shining under the golden streaks of sunlight that pour through the windshield.

"What did I just say?" you sighed, smiling cheekily as you smoothed a hand over his clover-colored hair, fixing the stray strands moved askew by the wind from the open windows. "Hello~? Wonderland to Trey? Eyes on the road?"

He paused for a while before chuckling, his hands splaying out on the steering wheel as he turned his gaze back front. "Right, right. I'll be careful, princess."

───────────────────── · ·

Carries your things for you and will not let you do any heavy lifting at all plus he buys you drinks!

Screw Crowley Dire. You were sick of Ramshackle's awful, scratchy furniture. For once, you wished you could sit on something that wasn't littered with dust bunnies or looked like it came straight from the depths of the underworld—no offense to Idia. And so, using the money you had painstakingly saved over the last six months, you decided to buy a cute, frilly sofa.

Problem was—you couldn't lift it at all. It was too wide and heavy for your poor untrained arms. Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was more than happy to help ^^

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Um…Deuce? Are you sure you don't want me to work?" Perched atop the kitchen counters, you were worriedly staring down at him.

While he was preoccupied with lifting the couch, you were lazily sipping on a bubble tea—a drink which he bought for you himself. Humming, you let your gaze move from the soft line of his cheekbone, to the sharper cut of his jaw, before resting it onto the thick of his arms. " I don't mind helping, you know."

Deuce was standing by the door, arms tucked beneath the couch as he braced himself for lifting. "Yeah, I got this. Don't worry."

Now, why was he here, exactly? Well…First off, you didn't intend to call him at all.

In the middle of trying to haul your couch into Ramshackle's entrance, Deuce had appeared out of nowhere, offering his help. Despite your vehement denial, the stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually forced you to sit down, shoving the bright, bubbly drink in your hand without saying a word.

So, here you were. Shamelessly ogling at him while he tried to find a way to bring the couch in.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt—Oh!" You gasped, hand flying up to cover your agape mouth when Deuce easily lifted it up as if it were made of air. In response to your expression of astonishment, he grinned and playfully flexed his arms. "See?"

While Deuce set the couch down in front of the TV, you slipped off the counters and strode over to him. Jumping into his embrace, you draped your arms around his shoulder and pressed a big kiss on his cheeks, watching in delight as his face exploded in pink. "You're so strong! Thank you so much!"

— ♰ LEONA

Deuce let a wobbly smile stretch across his burning cheeks, his hands slack atop your hips. "Y-Yeah! No problem."

───────────────────── · ·

Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 + Hints at passenger princess treatment

Leona Kingscholar was not a romantic. Naturally, he has stayed to himself ever since he was little. This lion was not the kind to be sentimental, gooey, or emotional. So it is astonishing how quickly this stone-cold personality of his breaks down when he's around you.

Every little thing you do drives him into a lovesick frenzy, and he has no idea how to stop it. He wasn't particularly into grand displays of affection or romantic gestures. Ergo, in an effort to express his adoration, he turns to more…costly methods.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Tell me what you want." Leona demands, tone serious as he wraps a rough yet protective arm around your hips. Both of you were standing smack dab in the middle of a large shopping mall. Though the more you stood here, the more you began to realize that this place wasn't really your…ordinary mall.

First and foremost, when Leona pulled up, there was private parking, and that was already intimidating to you in and of itself. Second, it seems like every single store in here was a luxury brand. You've seen a couple of these logos plastered onto the tags of Vil's or Jade and Floyd's clothes.

As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure their plastic bags cost more than your entire yearly allowance combined.

"Ah, um…"  A nervous sweat built up on your brow as you fished your wallet out, peering into what little funds you had. "Leona, honey—I just needed to get some school supplies…Is there a different mall we can go to?" You sheepishly smiled up at him. "I don't think I can afford to get anything here."

Silence immediately follows as Leona stares at you with a dumbfounded look. Blinking bluntly, he scoffs. "Who said you were paying?"

"Hu-Huh?" You stammered, fiddling with your wallet. The lion's eyes were ripped wide open in shock, as if the mere thought of you spending your own money on your own things was a criminal act. Something so ludicrous that even a person with his deceptive persona finds it distasteful.

"Ain't it obvious already? I'm paying," Leona huffs, dragging you to a nearby jewelry shop. Behind the glass were displays of glittering pearls and jewels, each of which had delicate and intricate carvings. "And we're gettin' more than stationary."

"But-!" You start, only to get interrupted as his calloused hand clamps over your mouth.

— ♰  RUGGIE

"No buts."

───────────────────── · ·

Giving you his coat when you're cold and just being sickeningly sweet<3

Ruggie was used to working for others, and this habit of his pours over to you. Though it wouldn't take long for people to notice that his acts of labor was…different with you.

For others, Ruggie works because there's an exchange, a benefit, or a payment for him. For you, however, he does things with no motive in mind. He would never ask for more because he genuinely didn't need anything more, and if he ever did, a simple kiss or hug from you would be plenty.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

It was a frigid winter day and both of you were walking to school together, a routine you both developed over the past few months. As you followed him through the deep snowfall, the cold wind nipped and bit at your skin, making you shudder. Despite the struggle, you push on, the rough pads of your boots dragging along the thick blankets of snow.

Unfortunately for you, the flimsy cardigan you bought at Sam's did nothing to keep your body safe from the cruel winter.

While Ruggie's oversized warm coat helps kept him sufficiently warmed up, you, on the other hand, are struggling. You know you should have gotten a thicker coat, but this was all you could afford last minute.

Ever so caring, your boyfriend is quick to notice this and turns back around, trudging through the snow to meet you.

"C'mere," Ruggie drags you into his embrace and starts to slowly inch the coat off his shoulders. With your form now pushed against his body, he takes the chance to press a soft kiss against your cheeks. At the exchange of affection, both of you erupt in soft giggles, lovesick grins stretched across your lips.

The moment feels intimate, loving, and safe.

— ♰  JACK

"Here ya' go." Suddenly he's engulfing you in his thick cloak and zipping it up. Protesting, you try to give it back, but all he does is snicker and shake his head. He peppers warm kisses on the side of your bare frostbitten neck, relishing in the giggles that spill from your lips. "Keep it. I can handle the cold. I'm used to it but I can't have you freezin' out here, now can I?"

───────────────────── · ·

Carries you when your feet start to hurt, tee hee

Jack was strong and well-disciplined. He's worked hard and trained himself to peak physical condition, yet even then, he's continually seeking to improve himself even more. He's tried it all: fitness routines, weight lifting, and sports. And it pays off.

His strength has proven useful in a variety of circumstances. from physical education classes, sporting events, marathons, and, strangely enough, carrying you when your heels begin to hurt your feet.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Jack looks around the booths as he takes your hands in his, pulling you along the festival crowds, "Hm. I think the takoyaki stand is around here. You were craving that earlier, right?" If it weren't for the intense dull ache at the bottom of your ankles, you would have been delighted to hear about the delectable octopus snack.

Instead, you hissed and pulled on the beastman's hand, halting to a stop, unable to take the torture of your heels any longer. "Jack, hold on a second."

Groaning, you slouch down on a nearby bench and kick off your heels, scowling at the dull throb that's pressing itself against the back of your foot. Jack quickly knelt down by your side, ears alert and tail swishing.

"What's wrong?" He questions as he drags your legs over to rest on top of his firm thighs. "Do your feet hurt?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "I kinda regret putting on heels at a festival like this…I didn't realize it would hurt so bad. I just wanted to look cute."

The wolf ponders for a moment before swiftly turning around, presenting his back to you, "Get on."

"Eh?" You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Jack looks away, keeping his head tilted to the ground as a dark flush swept over his skin. "I'll carry you…I-If your feet hurt, I won't mind carrying you."

"Oh!" Smiling, you slip onto his back and wrap your arms snug around his neck. Jack clutches your heels in one hand while the other grasps onto your thigh. The beastman easily stands up, supporting both his and your weight as he heads towards the food stands.

"Who knew you were such a softie, Jack! Hehe." You tease, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. The beastman flushed even more, avoiding your gaze at all cost.

— ♰  AZUL

"Tch. I-I don't go around doing this for anyone."

───────────────────── · ·

Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 #2

Azul lived to spoil you.

For you, the octo-mer gleefully buys mountains of clothing. Your entire wardrobe has been thoughtfully planned by him (and often rapidly purchased, Floyd is always the victim to his 12am shopping whims).

Other than clothing, he's also quite fond of jewelry. He clasps pure pearls to your ears, drapes diamonds over your neck, and slips rings onto your fingers. It would be the highlight of Azul's day to see the items he had purchased for you proudly displayed for all the students on campus to see.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Shall we?" he asks softly as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from your chair. The smooth white silk of your dress cascades off the plush leather seat, draping down to your ankles. Azul swiftly guides you away from the lounge, signaling at both Floyd and Jade in the corner to clean up before turning his attention back to you, once more. "I hope the food was to your liking, angelfish?"

"Oh, it was," you confirm, a smile playing on your lips. Leaning up, you press a warm kiss against his lips, one which he returns. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Azul! The dress as well. It looks beautiful."

"Why, of course." The octo-mer hums, running his hand up your back. As he slips both of you into his room, he shuts the door with his foot and guides you to his vanity. "Though I do have one last gift."

"Another?" You chuckle, "Don't you think you spoil me too much? I don't want it to seem like I'm leeching off of you…"

"No, you could never," Azul says as he motions you to a seat near the table of his vanity. The octo-mer reaches over and opens a drawer, revealing a nice velvet box.

As the box is opened, a gorgeous sea-glass necklace with a stunning silver-coral colour is exhibited to you. It sat prettily atop a white plush pillow, winking at you. Azul deftly runs a hand up your neck to pull your hair back and your lips parts in a "o" when he clasps it on.

"Azul," you breathlessly murmur. "I can't possibly—This must have cost a fortune."

— ♰  JADE

"It's for you," Azul smiles. "Only for you."

───────────────────── · ·

You have scary eel privileges'

It was not uncommon for Jade to come knocking at your door in opportune times of the night to accompany you out for a walk. You mentioned once how you loved stargazing and Jade hasn't let that go since. For he too had always carried a fondness for the night, more specifically, the moon.

It was constant, a repetitive lustrous cycle, and despite his thrill seeking nature, he took comfort in its consistency. Walks with you were the highlight of his week, and he certainly does not take interruptions from pesky little bugs lightly.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

The night sky above Ramshackle was littered with painted specs of sparkling stars, burning brightly amidst the gradients of blue and black. Jade had a firm hand situated by the small of your back, gently guiding you along the dirt path of the trail.

"It's so beautiful…" You murmur in astonishment, craning your head up to peer up at the canvas of stars. Chuckling, Jade tugs you in closer to slip his large jacket over your shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, pearl. I do hope it's not too cold?"

"Not at all."

Both of you continue along your hike, going deeper and deeper into the thick, dense forest. As you trudged on, a bundle of wild mushrooms caught your eye and you halted to a stop, recognizing the patterns and spots on the fungi in a book Jade had once shown you.

"Wait here a moment. I just saw those mushrooms you wanted so bad. I'll go get it!" Before Jade could even reply, you were already off, sneaking past tall bushes and prickly trees. 

Just as you were about to pick your first mushroom, a low growl interrupts you. Freezing, your eyes dart upward to see a Savanaclaw student towering over your form. 

He did not seem happy.

"Oya? You're that Ramshackle punk, aren't you?…I have to say, Leona let you off real easy after that little spy mission you did in our dorm." He sneers, rolling the joints of his shoulders and moving closer, backing you up against a tree. "That's all good with me…Cuz' If he won't do something bout' it, then I will."

Suddenly, he was drawing his fist back, aiming for you. The sudden shift happened so quickly that all you could do was flinch and hunch over, preparing yourself for a hit.

Only for it to never come.

"My, my," a familiar voice muses. Breath hitching in your throat, you peek up and see Jade looming behind the boy. The eel's hand was coiled tight around the beastman's wrist, clasping tighter and tighter until there was a sickening snap. 

— ♰ FLOYD

"How foolish of you to think I would allow that."

───────────────────── · ·

You have scary eel privileges' #2

Floyd was a lot softer and caring than a lot of people would give him credit for. That or he just gives you special treatment. After all, the big bad eel found you endearing. You were his one and only beloved little shrimpy. 

You were the one who stood by him even when others dismissed him as strange or frightful because you loved and adored him wholeheartedly. So, he can't help but be protective of you.

Nothing will ever hurt you so long as he's by your side.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Shrimpy? What're you doing here?"

Sniffles and cries wreck your chest as you curled up on Floyd's bed, clutching his shrimp plush tight in your arms. Said eel was standing by the door, a look of shock plastered onto his features before it turned ice-cold as he approached your weeping form.

"My poor shrimpy…" Floyd rasps, tugging off his gloves to cup your wet cheeks with his big hands. "What's wrong with my shrimpy? Did someone do this? I'll squeeze 'em if they did."

The eel crawls into bed with you, tugging the plush out of your arms and slipping himself into your embrace. Soft warm kisses are peppered on your wet cheeks as Floyd coos at you.

Sobbing, you raise a hand to furiously wipe at your eyes before exclaiming, "It's Grim again! Why does he have to be so difficult?! I worked so hard for my alchemy exam, but it seems like he doesn't care! He's brought our grades down again!"

"It's that cat of yours again, huh?" Floyd clicked his tongue, thumb pressing against the corner of your teary eyes. He pressed a warm palm to your cheek, examining your face with close inspection as he slowly reached for your hand and set it down atop his beating heart. "No worries. Just let it all out, shrimpy. I'll have a talk with the baby seal later hehe~"

You sniffed and brushed his comments aside as you pulled away from the embrace, an action which made him pout. "…I'm not sure he'd even listen. Grim is as stubborn as a rock." 

"We'll see about that, shrimpy." Floyd scoffs, a frown on his face clearly visible as he pulls you closer once more.

— ♰ ROOK

"Yanno, I'm pretty good at alchemy myself." Floyd chirps, a dark grin slowly stretching across his cheeks. "I'm sure the baby seal won't mind having a private tutor session with good ol' me."

───────────────────── · ·

This man WORSHIPS the ground you walk on.

As they say, "Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist's muse, they will immortalize you." Such a muse you were to Rook.

Though it would take quite a lot of coaxing before he could have the pleasure of having you as his muse, at the rare moments you did agree—Rook did his utmost best to do you justice on the canvas.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Portraiture looked into the life of the subject, revealed what was hidden deep inside, and examined it. With his hunter-like manner, Rook was all too acquainted with this study.

"A-Am I doing this right?" You murmur, trying your best not to move around as you held a bouquet of daisies up to your chest. There was a cream-tinted dress draped across your body as you reclined against the backdrop Rook had set up.

"Oui. Such beauty in your gaze, trickster. Angels lurk behind your eyes." The hunter flirts, resolute gazed locked onto your flustered ones as he drags his brush against the palette. There was an experiment with the hues for a time before he blended a few other colors.

"I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to do this." As he'd found the color he wanted, Rook turned back to you. He took careful note of every nuance and detail of your glowing visage and committed as much as he could to memory. Rook knew he’d have to make your portrait perfect. He simply couldn’t allow for anything else.

"You're very persistent," you huff with a small smile on your face. "I had to cave in eventually, huh?"

"But, of course!" Rook cheekily grins, turning his attention back to the canvas. "I can't let a chance like this pass me by."

Time passed and layers upon layers of color came together to form the picture he sought after. Out to the right, spread across a lush sofa, was your incandescent form. And he surely didn't hold back on the details. The creases in the fabric, the curve of your smile, and the contours of the plush pillows scattered on either side of the plush crimson sofa all draw the eye.

It was a large painting that he had boldly placed in Pomefiore's living room, much to Vil's chagrin. Try as he might, the dormleader couldn't get the hunter to remove it at all.

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ MALLEUS

Princess treatment? pff. That's cute. No, it's queen treatment to him.

You had a bad tendency of rambling on about whatever that came to mind, often without realising that another person was in the same room as you. Even if you initially didn't mind this little quirk of yours, recent events have made you realise that you should probably curb your mouth-running.

Even more so considering that your partner, caring as he was, had a tendency to be quite…impulsive. Especially when it comes to matters concerning your comfort and well-being.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Malleus was flipping through a catalogue of colour samples and scrutinizing each texture with careful judgment. Slipping the page into your hands, he murmurs, "This is all rather lovely. Perhaps a dark crimson will suffice. Or would you like this wine red dye, my dear?" The dragon looked at you, patiently awaiting your response.

Only for there to be none.

You stood awkwardly at his side, your cheeks flaming up with shame. Tugging at his coat, you rose up on your tiptoes and whispered quietly, "Tsunotaro…when I whined about it being cold, I didn't mean for you to go this far."

"Oh?" He quirks a brow up, "Do you not like these colors?"

"Mal," you utter gently, handing the catalogue back to him. "I don't really think we need to—"

"Young Master. If I may," Sebek interrupts, voice raising to a strained high squeak, "Please do tell. Why are we replacing every.single marble floor in the dorm…with carpet?"

Malleus draws you in his arms, all while ignoring the enraged stare painted on Sebek's face. "My darling's feet become frigid cold when they walk along the marble flooring. I think it's due time for it to get redone," he says while running his hands tenderly up your back and gazing at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Sebek blinks, a strained smile sneaking up on his cheeks, "Well. I'm sure they can use slippers—"

"Nonsense." Malleus snarls, eyes flashing a luminous green. "How dare you even think of subjecting them to such a ludicrous act. Hmph. Using…slippers—How preposterous." 

"No. I think my way is much better." Shaking his head, Malleus turns back to the catalogue—paying no mind to the grief-stricken look on his retainer's face. "Now dearest, do you think burgundy would look good in the kitchen?"

───────────────────── · ·

—♰ SEBEK

Carries your sparkly pink purses for you, slay king<3

Sebek was not a fool. The fae was well aware he could be a bit…much at times. And even if he doesn't express it, he really values your nearly infinite patience with him. 

The boy was awkward at affection, and this is especially highlighted when it comes to anything involving romantic gestures. Even though your snappy crocodile was hard-headed and stubborn at times, he still showed you how much he cared in his own little ways. Even if it were something as simple as carrying your sparkly pink bag around the campus.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"You ought to have known better than to jest so lightly about Diasomnia that way!" Sebek barks out, a leather-clad finger digging deep into Ace's chest. However, as opposed to being upset as Sebek had anticipated, the ginger chortles, muffled giggles sneaking past his clamped up lips.

"Sebek, buddy." Ace wheezes out, shoulders shaking from the strain of his suppressed laughter. "It's kinda hard to take you seriously…wh-when you have that."

The Heartslabyul runt gestures towards your designer purse, which was snugly resting against Sebek's bicep, slung over his shoulder. 

It was quite the eye-catcher. The sparkling pink diamonds of its handle twinkled a bright brilliant white, so bright in fact that it was almost blinding. 

Epel takes notice of the logo and crocodile keychain attached to it and he perks up.

"Oh, it's one of those girly-lookin' designer bags Vil is always yappin' about," Epel points out, squinting his eyes to get a better look at it. "Ain't that the prefect's bag?"

Unfazed by Ace's mocking, Sebek scoffs arrogantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Indeed, it is. As a knight-in-training, it is only right for me to possess the quality of a gentleman. Chivalrous acts like this are nothing to be ashamed of." He abruptly snapped his head over to glower at Ace, who was sitting rather comfortably in the cafeteria bench, crossing one leg over the over as he met Sebek's irritated stare. "Not that I anticipate someone like you to ever have experience with it.."

Sebek then rose from the table and strode boldly in the direction of your classroom, the pink bag swinging with each heavy step he took. Epel was leaning over the table, placing a shaky hand on Ace's shoulder as loud laughter racked through his body.

"Darn' right," Epel cackles, wiping the tears away from his eyes before turning to the ginger. "Nice ta' see someone still has sum chivalry…Unlike you, Ace."

The ginger visibly deflates, rolling his eyes as he mutters, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. He's down bad."

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for ALL of my works, comment here!

@furoidoleech @skadi-winterfell @mushroomchaos101 @taruruchi

@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @phoneandchips @gussuri @lunavixia @heatofmyexoheart @heatofmyexoheart @pianopuppygirl @cross-crye @cerisescherries @cecilebutcher @savanaclaw1996 @msykaroly @a-bit-late