The sun barraged you with its blazing heat, and being surrounded by sweaty school boys didn’t help. After the morning classes, you decided that a cafeteria sandwich and a trip to the botanical garden were much needed. The moment you arrived, though, you realized you were not alone - a familiar lion tail flicked around behind a tree.

Glancing behind the tree, you found Leona lying on his side with his head propped up. A chessboard lay in front of him, pieces arranged in careful formation. His emerald eyes were half-lidded in that familiar aloof expression, you couldn’t tell whether he was bored or thinking three moves ahead.

You shifted your attention to the chessboard. On the board, black had made aggressive strides - knights already deep in enemy territory, a bishop slicing across the board blade-like - while white pieces shrank to their side, taking up only a quarter of the board.

Leona reached forward and moved a white pawn.

Then he immediately picked up a black rook and slid it across the board with quiet precision.

Minutes passed by and the white seemed to be in a worse position, pitiful pieces barely clinging on. You expected the lion beastman to wrap up the game quickly to move on to another one of his endless solo plays.

But he stopped and glared at the board, as if the thing had personally offended him.

“Hm.”

His voice was low, unimpressed.

“Didn’t think it would come to this.”

The housewarden picked up the black knight, turning it between his fingers. Only then did you notice the piece was older than the rest - its edges slightly worn, the polished wood dulled from use. A knight was carved mid-rear, mane flowing back in exaggerated curls, looking very similar to a lion’s mane.

He set the piece down.

The game unfolded differently after that. White began to move with quiet patience, its pieces closing ranks around a single pawn and shepherding it steadily across the board until queening. Alongside its new queen, the white swiftly dismantled the remaining black pieces until the game reached that familiar stage where the outcome was obvious long before the final move.

“Impressive moves. I didn’t think it could turn out like that,” you finished off the black king.

“It’s because you’re an idiot.”

“Hey-”

He ignored your protest and reached for the black knight again. He turned it slowly between his fingers again, thumb brushing over the worn carving of its mane. For a moment, his gaze drifted somewhere far away - past the garden, past the college, somewhere sun-scorched and endless.

Then he scoffed to himself.

“Should’ve known better.”

You must’ve looked comically confused and he must’ve been in a strange mood because he then had the courtesy to explain to you.

“I used to play a game exactly like this with this exact piece when I was hip-height. With Kifaji, if you bother to remember him. He was the white, and I was the black. Foolishly thinking I finally had my first win against that old bird, humbled right after.”

“He then started his year-long lecture of how strategy can overcome disadvantages. How there are many ways to play with the pieces you’re dealt. Blah blah blah.”

“Used to believe that,” he flicked the knight away. It fell carelessly on the grass. “Turns out the pieces don’t matter if the game’s rigged.”

You picked up the knight he had thrown away and rearranged the board with the black on your side.

“What are you doing?”

“Playing.” He scoffed. “You barely know how the pieces move.” “Then go easy on me.” “Since when did I go easy on anyone?”

His tail flicked annoyedly, but he played anyway.

A few games passed much as you had expected. The arrogant lion dismantled your side piece by piece, rarely even looking up from the board.

In one match, he captured everything until only your king remained wandering the board alone. He let it drift for a few turns before leisurely closing the trap and checkmating you. The bastard.

Eventually another game settled into a familiar pattern. Your pieces were scattered, his still comfortably placed. Only a matter of time before the board collapsed again. You moved the black knight. It landed in the territory of his queen.

He chuckled in mockery. “You didn’t see that?”

“I did.” “Then why play it?” You shrugged. “Because it felt right.”

Leona studied the board, then the knight, then you. And he didn’t immediately destroy the move. 

Several turns later, black checkmated white.

He stared at the board for a long time, then picked up the black knight again, turning it slowly between his fingers. The same gesture as before, but felt different now.

He set the piece down right in the middle of the chessboard. “I could’ve finished you off 10 minutes ago.”

“I figured. I had many stupid moves, even I could tell. Does the honorable Leona have the heart to spare me once today?”

He glared at you, then closed his eyes and lay down on his back. “I wanted to see where you were going with it. You had a strategy. Looked like you were hoping I’d fall for it, even while acting nonchalant.”

You lay down on the grass next to him, your hand against your eyes to filter out the sunlight. “Too bad you noticed it. I thought I was slick. But it worked out in the end, right? Guess the mind game still worked, though not how I envisioned things to do.”

“That stupid move did change the flow of the game.”

“And made it my game, evidently.” you chuckled, which earned you a tail swat across your face. “Rude!”

You sat up, picked up the black knight and placed it on top of his chest. You continued, “wasn’t it just like what Kifaji said? You take the pieces you’re dealt, read the board carefully, then strike where no one expects it, and turn it into your game. Take a lot of hope, but it can work.”

“Hope is stupid.” “But we can still hope, can’t we? Even if the game is rigged from the start.”

"Look at this one! Doesn't it kind of remind you of Grim? It has his eyes." You tried to keep a straight face as you pointed to a particularly strange looking gargoyle, making Malleus's brow raise at you.

"I'm beginning to worry for your eyesight, child of man." He let out a sigh, coming up to stand at your side in order to further examine the stone in front of you. "This is the third time tonight that you've made such comparisons. The last gargoyle we came across you said looked like me. Now this one is Grim?" He brought a hand up to his chin in genuine confusion, and you couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped your lips.

"Maybe your eyes are the ones that need checked. Look, the angry eyebrows, the scrunched up nose. It's just like Grim when you tell him 'no buddy, I can't give you tuna for dinner ten nights in a row.'"

"Hmm. Is that so? Then may I ask what made the last one look like myself?" Malleus wore a fond, teasing smile as he turned his full attention back over to you. He was lucky you were too immersed in your usual mischief to notice the absolutely smitten look on his face.

When he invited you to look at the gargoyles with him tonight, he didn't actually expect that you would agree. You had other friends...other priorities you could tend to. And yet, once again you surprised him. Once again, you made him feel almost special.

He only wished that his heart would stop throbbing so painfully the entire time you were together...

"Well, that one was more simple. The horns. The smug little grin. He looked like he was about to start telling me some very interesting facts about his brethren." Malleus's smile only grew at your answer, before he threw his head back in laughter. Only you would say something like that to him.

"Ah, then I must apologize for my oversight. How could I have doubted you? He sounds like he could've been my mirror image." He spoke with amusement, eyes gleaming as he began to slowly stride past you. "Let's search for one that looks like you next, shall we?"

He was determined now. He would search the faces of every gargoyle on the island until he found one that perfectly suited your image. One that was worthy of being compared to his child of man.

However, it seemed as if his search would quickly be cut short–

"MY LIEGE?! WHERE HAVE YOU GONE OFF TO?! YOU NEED A PROPER ESCORT AT SUCH AN HOUR!"

Malleus let out a sigh. Of course that boy would come out looking for him. He had lost track of time, having came out here early to wait for your arrival, then walking with you for far longer than anticipated.

He loved Sebek dearly, but sometimes his overprotective nature could truly be too much.

He brought a single hand up, planning to simply snap his fingers and teleport you both to a more quiet location before you were inevitably scolded by the knight. But his spell shattered before it could even begin as something suddenly grasped onto his free hand, pulling him along.

You.

He could only blink a few times in pure shock, allowing you to run him off like he was a damsel in distress you were so generously saving.

"Quick, get in here!" You whispered, eyes sparkling as you practically shoved him in between two stone columns, with you right in front of him. So close that he could feel your breath.

Malleus's pupils dilated as he stared at you, mind going blank. He barely even registered the fact that Sebek was still running around yelling for him.

"MY LIEGE? Arg! This is why Silver cannot be trusted to watch over the young master by himself! I turn my back for a mere second–"

His footsteps stomped past your hiding spot, dangerously close. You clapped your hand across your own mouth, attempting to stifle a laugh.

Malleus went utterly still as he watched the scene unfold. Your other hand was still holding onto his. Your bodies were only centimeters apart.

The space you were both wedged in were covered by the shadows, save for a faint glimmer of moonlight that illuminated the outline of your face just right... He could see the way your eyes shined when you looked up at him. The steady rise and fall of your breathing. Every detail of you became impossible to ignore.

It felt...intimate.

Sebek's loud footsteps finally faded off into the distance, meaning the two of you were once again in the clear. You let out a relived exhale, removing your hand from your mouth and placing it on your chest instead as if it could calm your heart from the adrenaline rush you just experienced.

"Thank seven's. I thought we were getting caught for sure. Not bad on my end, huh? They don't call me the master at hide and seek for no reason you know."

Normally Malleus would humor you. He would always laugh at your jokes, no matter how bad they were. But now, he couldn't utter a sound. His own heart was pounding so violently in his chest, he was scared you must be able to hear it. Your head tilted to the side, looking at him with a curious expression.

In that moment, every ounce of what resolve Malleus had in him began to crumble as a reckless thought prodded at the center of his mind.

Your lips were so close. It would be so easy...if he leaned down only a little bit...

His free hand reached up to gently cup your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly across your soft skin.

His entire being was screaming at him to close the distance. But what his heart wanted, he knew his mind may come to regret. He couldn't risk everything that came with claiming you as his. He couldn't risk your friendship, your happiness.

He couldn't allow himself to be so selfish with you. Even as you stared up at him with wide, expectant eyes that made his breath hitch in his throat.

Instead of chasing your lips as he leaned down, his forehead came to rest upon yours.

That was all he could do to stop himself from kissing you.

Dividers by priestboy

Do not steal or use my work for ai purposes. I will eat you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

At first, Leona doesn’t even realize it’s a crush. He just notices that you’re different. You don’t bow to his sharp words or his status. You don’t flatter him or look at him like he’s someone unreachable — you simply talk to him. As if he’s a regular student. That alone makes you stand out in his world of forced respect and fake smiles.

He tries to brush it off, of course. “Tch, what a pain,” he mutters, head resting on his arm as he watches you talk to someone else. But his ears are tilted your way, catching your every word, even when he pretends he isn’t listening.

Leona is lazy, yes, but he’s perceptive. He notices the smallest details about you — your habits, the way you speak when you’re comfortable versus when you’re not, what kind of people irritate you. He never says a word about it, but his actions quietly adjust. If he knows a certain classmate annoys you, he’ll show up out of nowhere and sit beside you just to make them back off. If he sees you struggling with something, he’ll scoff, help you anyway, then say, “Don’t get used to it.”

He’s possessive, like a lion claiming his spot in the sun. He’ll casually stretch his arm behind your chair during lunch or tilt his leg so it brushes yours. Just enough for people to see that you’re near him. But if someone flirts with you, that’s when the lazy mask cracks. His tone turns cold, his gaze sharp. “You’re bold, talking to them like that right in front of me.” It’s not a growl, but it might as well be.

He doesn’t go out of his way to impress you, he already knows he’s impressive. Instead, he watches you react to him. If you challenge him, his tail flicks in amusement. If you ignore him, he finds excuses to provoke you just to get a reaction. He’d rather have your irritation than your indifference.

Leona hates to admit it, but you calm him. When you sit nearby, he actually falls asleep faster. When you talk, the constant, bitter buzz in his head, about his brother, about status, about expectations, fades away. That’s the first sign that you’ve gotten under his skin.

Ruggie catches on early. He teases Leona relentlessly.
“Y’know, boss, for someone who doesn’t care, you sure nap in their spot a lot.”
Leona throws a pillow at him and grumbles, “Shut it, hyena.” But he doesn’t deny it.

He’ll never confess first. His pride won’t allow it. He waits, silently daring you to figure it out. When you catch him staring one day and ask “What?” he smirks and says, “Nothing. Just wondering how you managed to keep my attention this long.”

Despite the teasing, he’s careful with you. He never raises his voice around you, never truly insults you — his sharp tongue softens, even when his words sound rough. You might catch a quiet “You did good today” disguised under his usual lazy drawl.

If you ever look upset or tired, he won’t ask what’s wrong — instead, he’ll just sit beside you, toss his jacket over your shoulders, and mutter, “Don’t make that face. It’s pathetic.” But his tail wraps around your leg.

RUGGIE BUCCHI:

Ruggie doesn’t have a big moment where he realizes he likes you. It sneaks up on him. One day he just notices that he’s paying more attention than usual—where you are, if you’ve eaten, whether you look tired. He tells himself it’s nothing. He notices everyone. That’s how you survive. Still, his focus keeps drifting back to you no matter what he’s doing.

He starts showing up around you a lot. But always with an excuse. He was already in the area. He had a job nearby. He needed something from this side of campus anyway. Somehow, those excuses line up perfectly with your schedule. He never points it out, and if you do, he laughs it off like you’re reading too much into it.

Helping you feels different to him, and that bothers him. Ruggie is used to weighing effort against reward, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t stop to calculate as much. He’ll grab things for you, fix small problems, or give advice without asking for payment first. Sometimes he only realizes later that he didn’t get anything out of it—and instead of being annoyed, he just shrugs and moves on.

Food is where the cracks really show. Ruggie guards his meals fiercely, but with you, he makes exceptions he pretends aren’t exceptions. He’ll push part of his food toward you and claim he’s not that hungry, or say he can always get more later. If you thank him too seriously, he gets flustered and tells you to stop making it weird.

He teases you a lot, but it’s lighter than how he messes with others. Less sharp, more softer. If you look uncomfortable, he backs off immediately, even if it means losing the joke. Seeing you laugh feels like a win in a way he doesn’t fully understand, so he keeps chasing it.

Ruggie doesn’t open up easily, but around you, things slip out. Small stories about his grandma. Offhand comments about working too much. Things he usually keeps buried under jokes. The moment he realizes he’s said too much, he tries to play it off, but he doesn’t shut down completely. He lets you hear just a little more than anyone else.

If someone messes with you, Ruggie notices that immediately. But he doesn’t make a scene. He just steps in, redirects the situation, or handles it later where you won’t see. When you’re safe again, he acts like it was no big deal. But his mood stays sharp for a while after.

Leona catches on before Ruggie does. He doesn’t say anything—just gives him a look now and then. Ruggie ignores it. Pretends he doesn’t know what that look means. Still, he sticks a little closer to you after that, like it’s instinct.

If you ever do something genuinely kind for him with no strings attached, it throws him off badly. He gets suspicious at first, asks what you want, and doesn’t quite believe you when you say “nothing.” But later, when he’s alone, he thinks about it longer than he means to. He remembers it.

JACK HOWL:

When Jack first realizes he likes you, he doesn’t quite accept it right away. He’s not used to relying on people, let alone wanting to be near someone just because they make his chest feel warm. He keeps telling himself it’s just admiration or respect. You’re hardworking, reliable, and kind, of course he’d think well of you. But when his ears start twitching every time he hears your voice, and his tail starts wagging before he can stop it, even he has to admit something’s up.

He doesn’t flirt or tease. That’s not Jack’s way. Instead, his crush on you shows through quiet acts of attention — offering to carry your books, walking you to class “since we’re heading the same way,” or giving you a serious look and saying, “You skipped lunch. You need to take care of yourself.” Every small thing is his way of saying, I care about you, even if he can’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Jack also becomes noticeably more focused when you’re around — not that he’s trying to impress you, but rather that he doesn’t want to embarrass himself. He doubles down on training, stands taller, and pushes harder in Magical Shift practice. He claims it’s “for self-improvement,” but deep down he wants to be someone worthy of standing beside you.

Still, he’s awkward. If you catch him staring, he immediately looks away, ears twitching. If you thank him for helping, he mumbles something like, “Don’t mention it,” without meeting your eyes. He doesn’t want to owe you anything, yet he can’t help doing little things for you. It frustrates him, how easily you make him act against his usual logic.

When Leona or Ruggie start teasing him about it, he denies everything flat-out. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t get distracted that easily.” But Ruggie’s smirk says he’s not buying it, and Leona just yawns, saying, “You’re terrible at hiding things, pup.” Jack tries to brush it off, but the next time he’s with you, his tail gives him away all over again.

He gets protective too, though he tries to disguise it as common sense. If someone speaks to you rudely, Jack steps in before you can even respond — standing tall with arms crossed, voice calm and firm as he speaks. “Watch how you talk to people.” He never raises his voice, but his presence alone makes most people back off. When you thank him later, he just shrugs, saying, “I just don’t like seeing people act unfair.”

Jack notices small things — the way your shoulders slump when you’re tired, the quiet sighs you let out when you’re stressed. He doesn’t always know what to say, but he’ll quietly hand you a bottle of water, or walk beside you without saying much, his calm presence doing the comforting for him.

When he’s alone, though, it’s a different story. He catches himself thinking about you during runs or remembering something you said days ago. It annoys him that he can’t get you out of his head. “Focus,” he mutters to himself, trying to shake it off. But every time he sees you again — smiling, laughing, just being you — he knows it’s pointless. He’s already fallen.