himasntgod

Soo I guess you’ve noticed I’ve been posting less and less lately, and I just wanted to explain why, since this slow pace will probably stick around for at least a month before I go back to focusing on my studies and getting back into the writing routine where I could post daily.

Like I’ve said before, every little heart I get on a post makes my heart do a happy lil jump, so I feel like I owe you guys an explanation — even if maybe no one really cares LMAO.

It's nothing too deep, honestly. It's just... summer. I'm having a great time, enjoying being a teenager, and honestly my whole “responsible routine” has gone out the window. I barely even touch my phone anymore (SORRY TO MY DEAR MOOTS ON IG OR ELSEWHERE FOR NOT REPLYING AAAA 😭)

Also, I’ve been going through a super weird emotional phase lately. I know I haven’t been feeling great for a while now, but this whole emotional rollercoaster I’m on is making me feel all over the place. I’ve been kinda neglecting things like taking time for myself — which is usually when I write my tumblr stuff and get all dreamy imagining scenarios.

Basically, once my life goes back to normal and the heat stops messing with my mood and sleep schedule, I’ll naturally get back to writing. I’m really sorry for all the requests I haven’t touched yet, and I wanna ask for a bit more time. I’m doing one week on/one week off with open requests, so I’ll be taking things super slow. But yes, I am still writing, just not as often as before.

Also, one last thing — I won’t spend too much time on it, but I saw another “AI accusation” in my inbox about one of my fanfics — the Silver one, the latest one I posted. And like… wow. I really thought we’d moved past this phase of reducing writers to just being bots.

It genuinely pisses me off. Especially because if you’ve ever seen my political views, you’ll know I’m super clear about this: No, I don’t use AI. I wish no one did.

AI is being used to profit off our issues and personal data, sold to rich-ass companies who use it to keep us trapped in this system where, without even realizing it, millions of us are basically modern slaves to the top 1%. So yeah. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again — I used to play around with stuff like Character AI or Janitor Bot back the same time when I was just starting to explore writing, so maybe some habits stuck from reading those convos 24/7, I dunno. But even that feels like a stretch.

And anyway, I stopped using any kind of AI tools over a year ago — and completely dropped even stuff like ChatGPT months ago— and that was 100% a political decision.

So yeah. Being accused of something like that really hits a nerve. Deeply.

ANYWAY THAT'S IT. GEEZ, THAT GOT A BIT HEAVY, HUH? But yeah, the main point was just explaining why I’ve gone ghost lately. It’s summer. We sensitive teens get unstable in the heat lol.

I’ll still be lurking around here now and then, and I will keep writing. Don’t miss me too much — even if I’m not posting, I’m still here!

Can I request a scenario of Silver, after a horse riding club show, where the reader is extremely downbad for this set? They cannot keep their mind off of pieces like his riding crop, leg harness, gloves, etc... the two have been dating for a little, but the reader has never actually seen him this way before. They are a certified fumbler, so even someone as oblivious as Silver notices something is off about them after his show. Gender neutral pov or female pov works, I don't mind either one. I would prefer smut, but if not, just regular is fine 🫣

SILVER X READER

Where you're crazy about with his Equestrian Club uniform

WARNINGS: This fanfic is based on Silver's Equestrian Club card, the descriptions of his uniform. It contains smut with oral sex, him giving it to afab!reader. Soft dom on Silver's part perhaps? I really loved this one, I hope you enjoy it <3

It was just a horse riding club show.

Just a simple friendly event out on the NRC grounds. He told you about it last week. Invited you. You even packed snacks. Brought your dumb little blanket. Thought oh this’ll be cute. A day to support your boyfriend, Silver, and watch him do his thing.

Maybe sneak a kiss when no one was looking. Something wholesome.

What you weren’t prepared for was whatever the hell that outfit was.

Like, yeah, obviously Silver was attractive. You’d been dating for a few weeks now, and even before that you’d been nursing a big dumb crush on him for forever. But this was criminal. Whoever handed him that equestrian uniform with the tall polished boots, fitted coat, white gloves, RIDING CROP—should be locked up immediately.

You’re not dramatic usually. But right now, you were spiraling.

Because he wore it too well. And worse: he was good at this. He looked natural. Elegant, even. Hair tied back loosely, posture regal on the horse, face serene and focused.

Meanwhile, you were sitting on your little picnic blanket gripping your juice box. The way he dismounted? That cocky little swing of his leg over the saddle, crop tucked neatly under one arm like a prop straight out of your delusions—girl, you were gasping. Internally. But it showed. You hadn’t said a word in ten minutes.

And Silver noticed.

He was walking toward you now. Still in the outfit. Still in the damn gloves. And sure, he was oblivious about a lot of things—but this? Even he could see something was off.

“...You okay?” he asked, tilting his head as he stood over you. His voice was soft like always, but his brows were slightly furrowed. “You’ve been staring off since the show ended.”

“I’m fine!” you said too quickly. “Totally normal! Just… admiring the sunset!”

It was 3:45 PM.

Silver glanced over his shoulder. Blinked once. “…It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

You wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“I meant the light! Y’know, how it hits your, uh… vest.” You waved vaguely in the direction of his chest and instantly regretted it.

Why was that part of the outfit fitted? Who tailored this?

“...Hm.” He crouched next to you on the blanket, legs folding with the kind of casual grace that should’ve been illegal in riding pants that tight. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re flushed.”

YOU KNEW.

You pressed the juice box to your cheek. “Totally fine. Perfectly hydrated. Great weather. Nice horses. Good show. You were… great.”

Your voice cracked on that last word.

Silver tilted his head again, those pale blue eyes fixed on you. Like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. You had never been this awkward around him before.

“I didn’t do anything differently,” he said slowly, “but you seem... really nervous.”

“Me? Nervous? What even is nervousness? Haha. Sounds fake.”

“…You’re doing the thing where you start laughing at nothing and then don’t look me in the eye.”

“HA. No. I’m literally making eye contact right now—”

You absolutely were not. You were looking at the gloves. And the crop. That was now in his lap.

God. It was over. You were a gooner. You buried your face in your hands.

“Okay,” you mumbled into your palms. “I need you to not judge me, but I have a confession.”

Silver leaned forward slightly. “I’d never judge you.”

You peeked through your fingers, defeated. “...You in that outfit is doing things to my chemistry.”

He stared at you. The wind ruffled his bangs.

You waited for him to say something. Anything.

“…Things like…?”

“You know what I mean, Silver—” You groaned, flopping backwards dramatically onto the blanket.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you showed up in those stupid boots and your dumb gloves and your IDIOTICALLY PERFECT—I don’t know! Everything! You’re all serious and focused and, and it’s… It’s not fair.”

Silence.

You refused to open your eyes. Absolutely not. You were about to dissolve into grass. You were part of the blanket now. Goodbye.

“…Oh,” Silver said after a moment. His tone had shifted Warm. “So that’s why you were staring at my hands.”

You made a sound. A pitiful oh no kind of whimper.

Then: gloved fingers gently brushing yours. You peeked up again.

He was smiling. Just slightly. Not teasing, exactly—just soft. Curious.

“I didn’t realize the uniform would affect you that much. I’m glad it did.”

Your heart absolutely stopped.

“I was starting to think I’d done something wrong. You’re usually so confident around me. It was strange seeing you so flustered.”

“I was confident. Before you came over here looking like a fantasy out of my dreams.”

Silver tilted his head again, but this time, his gaze sharpened a little. Just a fraction. Something shifted behind those soft white lashes.

“…Do you want me to keep it on a little longer?” he asked quietly.

You choked.

“SILVER—”

He leaned in.

“Or,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “maybe you’d like to see what else it can do to you.”

You sat there blinking like a fish.

Silver stood up calmly. Dusting off his gloves. Offering you a hand. “Walk me back to the stables?”

You nodded. Slowly. Like you were possessed. He helped you up.

“By the way,” he added as you walked beside him, “I don’t mind if you stare more.”

You tripped over your own feet.

He caught you.

You don’t remember the walk to the stables. You’re pretty sure you blacked out somewhere between him offering you his hand and the moment he led you into the quiet space.

It was warm in here. Dust motes floating. Straw scattered. The scent of horses and leather and Silver and oh god you really were about to do this in a stable weren’t you.

He closed the stable door behind you. Turned back. Still in that goddamn uniform. Boots creaking. Crop tucked behind him. Still wearing those white gloves.

“You’re quiet again. Are you nervous?”

You laughed, shaky. “A little.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Immediate. Almost desperate. “I want you. Just… I think I’m malfunctioning.”

He smiled, slow and soft. And that’s when he stepped close. Gloved fingers brushed under your chin. Tipping your head up like he knew exactly how fragile you were feeling.

“You said the outfit was making it worse,” he murmured, thumb ghosting over your lower lip.

“Should I take it off?”

You grabbed his vest like a lifeline. “Don’t you dare.”

Silver blinked. Then smirked. It was slight. Barely there. But it was a crack in the calm. Like a ripple in still water.

“Okay. Then I’ll keep it on.”

And then he kissed you.

You’d kissed before. sweet little things. Sleepy ones. Occasional heat when he had you pinned to the Ramshackle wall with a just "one more". But this? This was different.

You gasped into his mouth as he backed you up against one of the wooden stall doors. His hands were everywhere—one cradling your jaw, the other on your waist, gloved fingers slipping under your shirt. And the leather—soft, worn—was making your brain go static.

You whimpered.

Silver pulled back just enough to breathe against your lips. “That sound…”

“... you heard it? fuck." you whispered, mortified.

“Of course. You're not exactly quiet, Yuu. I like it.”

You let your forehead thunk lightly against his chest, groaning. “You’re so unfair.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, gloved fingers teasing the hem of your waistband. “Just rode a horse.”

“Exactly.”

You kissed him again to shut him up, this time with less hesitation. Pulled him closer by the belt loops on his pristine white breeches. You should not have looked down. That much confidence in one outfit was illegal.

Silver groaned into your mouth when your hips brushed.

“Oh?” you whispered, dizzy with how hot your face felt. “Do you like my outfit too?”

His breath hitched. You felt his grip tighten on your waist.

“I like your reactions,” he muttered, “a lot.”

He backed you up fully into the stall, crowding into your space until your back hit the wooden wall and your legs were pressed together tightly. The leather crop had been set down somewhere near the tack hooks. Your eyes flicked toward it once.

Silver noticed.

“...You keep looking at that.”

You refused to answer.

He leaned in close. One gloved hand sliding down your arm torturous. He kissed under your ear, then down your neck, tongue flicking against the skin.

“You want me to use it?” he whispered.

You squeaked.

“Not like… that—!”

His breath ghosted over your collarbone. “Then how?”

You buried your face in his shoulder. “I don’t know!! Just… hold it or something. Be mean. Something.”

Silver chuckled.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back, chest rising with a slow inhale. “I’ll try.”

You barely had time to process before he grabbed the crop and walked back to you with it lazily dangling from his fingertips.

He brought it up—not to hit you, not even to touch you, but to trail the edge of it lightly under your chin. Tipping your head up again.

“Look at me,” he said, voice lower now. “Don’t look away this time.”

You whined. Your knees buckled.

He pressed forward. Mouth on yours again. Teeth grazing your lower lip. You clung to his vest, nails scraping down leather and cloth. Your legs parted almost on instinct and he stepped between them.

One gloved hand slipped under your skirt.

You gasped—then bit your lip hard. “Silver—”

“You’re so warm already,” he murmured, fingers teasing you through your panties, featherlight. “Is this really just from watching me ride?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re lying,” he said gently, sliding the crop under your thigh to lift your leg around his waist. “You want this too badly to hate me.”

You whined again as his fingers finally slipped beneath the fabric. His mouth was on your neck now, licking and kissing and nipping. The gloves made it worse. They shouldn’t feel so good, so controlled—like he knew exactly how to touch you with them.

“Silver, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he said, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye.

Then he lowered himself to his knees.

You lost it.

He’s on his knees in front of you.

Still in uniform. Still in gloves.

You’re pressed back against the wooden stall wall, skirt hitched up, one leg thrown over his shoulder. You had no idea Silver had this in him. All that sleepy andquiet energy masking a man who knew exactly how to make you fall apart.

“You look beautiful like this,” he murmured, voice smooth. “So flushed.”

“Silver—” You gasped as his gloved hand slowly slid along the inside of your thigh, spreading you open more, steadying you as he leaned in.

And then—

His mouth.

You let out a little moan as his tongue slid over you. He worked you open like he had all day to take his time—he wasn’t rushing anything. He was tasting you like he wanted to memorize every reaction, every twitch and whimper.

You clutched the wooden beam behind you with one hand, the other tangled in his silver hair, trying not to pull, failing miserably.

He groaned against you.

“Please—” you whimpered.

Silver looked up at you from between your thighs, eyes heavy-lidded with focus.

“Tell me what you need,”

“Silver I can’t—”

“Yes you can.” He kissed your inner thigh, then moved back in, faster this time, tongue circling your clit while his fingers slid inside you. Two at once. Smooth. The gloves made every movement feel intensely focused—just the right kind of friction, slick and warm and—

You cried out, hips jerking as he curved his fingers just right.

“Silver-!”

He hummed. Hummed. Like he liked hearing that. His free hand gripped your thigh to keep you still.

You were unraveling. You were panting, trying to beg, trying to warn him—

“I—I'm gonna—please—”

“Let go,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

And that was it.

You came hard, trembling, moaning his name into the dusty air, your fingers curled tight in his hair. You swore you saw stars. You might’ve blacked out for a second.

When you finally started breathing again, you realized he’d already stood up—hands on either side of your waist, holding you steady.

He looked wrecked. Hair messy from your hands. Lips flushed. Glove on one hand damp from you. And still—he smiled.

Soft and genuine.

“How are you feeling?”

You looked at him.

Opened your mouth. “You’re not allowed to take that uniform off ever again.”

Silver chuckled, low and sweet. “So you really do like it.”

“I might have a uniform kink now. I’m not sure. I need to lie down.”

He laughed again and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Then your nose. Then your lips. Slower this time. Softer.

“I’ll get you some water,” he murmured. “And maybe a blanket. You’re shaking. We can go back to my room after you've recovered a bit. Riddle and Sebek must be wondering where I am; there was a celebration after the race.”

You smiled as you let him gently kiss your cheeks and nose, placing loving kisses on your face while you scratched the back of your neck.

"Yes, going to your room would be nice… but I'm afraid Lilia will see us. Your father is too clever and will surely suspect something."

FIRST YEARS + SILVER X READER

Where you hide when the housewarden almost catches you in his room

I'm sorry but I couldn't do anything about the housewarden's jealousy, hope u like it anyways!

You really should’ve said no.

Should’ve gone back to Ramshackle like a responsible prefect. Should’ve listened to Grim’s grumbling and gone to bed at a normal hour.

Haha no.

You let Ace smirk at you with that shit eating grin, throw his arm over your shoulder, and mutter “C’mon, just for tonight. I’ll make it fun~”

Now you’re under Ace's bed.

Like. Literally under. With your knees cramped up to your chest and your nose pressed against a suspicious sock, and Ace is sitting up top, fake-snoring so loud you’re gonna scream.

Riddle’s voice floats in from the hallway. “Lights off, Ace. And if I catch you playing games at this hour again—” Ace cuts him off, all chipper: “No games, housewarden! Just sleeping like a good little rosebud~” You nearly wheeze. This clown.

There’s a long silence. Then, finally, the sound of retreating footsteps. You hear Deuce mutter, “You’re gonna get us all killed,” and Ace grins.

Once the coast is clear, Ace throws his blanket off and hops down to crouch beside you. “Hey, babe,” he whispers. “Still alive down there?” You swat at his arm. “I’m gonna kill you.”“I love when you talk dirty.”“ACE.”

He laughs and pulls you out from under the bed. And honestly? You’re pissed, you’re disheveled, but the way he beams at you when you’re safe in his bed again, curled up against his side?

…You’d do it all over again.

So listen.

This was your idea.

Epel’s whole room smells like apple shampoo and you thought hey, a little snuggle time with my farm boy bf wouldn’t hurt anyone!

Wrong.

Because Vil just so happened to come back early from his late-night spa treatment and you two were in the middle of a cuddle so aggressive it could be labeled a wrestling match. You rolled on top of each other, grabbed each other's wrists, played to see who could give the most kisses while you put your hands on each other's faces, laughing, and tangled up.

"GET IN THE CLOSET," Epel whispers, scrambling to throw a blanket over the scene of the crime. "But—!""THE. CLOSET."

You slam the door shut just as Vil glides in, expression sharp.

“Epel. What is this? Your bed looks like it’s been ravaged by a particularly vicious boar.” “Heheh. I toss and turn a lot?”

Vil’s eyes narrow.

He begins straightening Epel’s bed, tutting at the state of it, one step away from opening the closet.

You’re inside holding your breath and gripping Epel’s hoodie. Through the crack in the door, you can see Vil’s manicured fingers reaching for the handle.

Death is nigh. Life flashes before your eyes.

But then—

“WAIT!” Epel blurts out. “Don’t open that!”

Vil pauses. Slowly turns. “…Why not?” “Because,” Epel says, brain lagging, “I have Neige LeBlanche posters that Rook gave me there."

Silence.

“Excuse me?”“He said he wanted me to observe the real beauty and he had so many posters...’” “…”

Vil pinches the bridge of his nose, mutters something about freakish weirdos and leaves.

You tumble out five seconds later, gasping. Epel helps you up looking proud and horrified at the same time.

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever said.”

“You’re so messed up.”

You both cackle like lunatics into the night.

Silver is… a problem.

Not because he doesn’t want you there. No, Silver loves having you around. It’s just—

He forgot. Literally.

You’re waking up in his bed, tangled in the sheets, and Silver blinks awake next to you looking around like he just respawned.

“Yuu...?” he mumbles, voice still sleepy. “Did we… did I…”“You invited me over last night.” “I did?” “You said ‘the moon’s lonely tonight. Come warm me up.’ It was poetic and kinda hot.” “Oh. I do remember that.”

He curls back into you like a sleepy kitten, arms around your waist. You start dozing off again—until a very distinctive knock rattles the door.

Lilia.

"Oh no. I forgot he’s on patrol.”

You scramble to hide under the covers while Silver stumbles to the door. Lilia peeks inside smile already too knowing.

“Morning, my little dreamer. Sleep well?” “Yeah.” “Alone?” “...Yes.”

Lilia’s eyes flick to the suspiciously lumpy bed. He says nothing. He simply nods.

“Tell Yuu under the sheets I said hi,” he says, and disappears into the hallway.

Silver turns to you under the blankets. “I’m never going to survive him.” You peek out and kiss his nose. “He ships us.”“I know. That’s what scares me.”

You both fall back into the bed again, resigned to your fate.

Jack is the worst at sneaking you in.

He’s too tall and too honest, and WAY too nervous. He acts guilty before you even do anything.

Tonight’s no different.

You’re in his room, cozy in his oversized hoodie (it’s so soft help), both of you curled up together on the floor with a blanket and your legs tangled. The dorm is mostly asleep, and Jack is doing his best to stay calm.

And then… the doorknob rattles.

Jack’s ears go straight up. He stands like he’s been electrocuted, grabs the blanket, and throws it over your head like that’s going to make you disappear.

“Jack. Why’s your door locked?” “Just—! Working out!” “…At midnight?” “UH. YEAH.”

You nearly choke trying not to laugh under the blanket. You feel Jack’s foot nudge you, a silent pls don’t expose me tap.

Leona finally walks away, yawning and muttering something about hormonal teenagers and their dumb secrets.

Once he’s gone, Jack collapses beside you, covering his face with both hands.

“I hate lying. I’m gonna get grey fur from this.” You kiss his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”“You’re lucky I love you.” “Aw~ you love me?” “Shut up.”

You fall asleep that night wrapped in a burrito, safe in his arms, and even if he complains the next morning, the way he keeps sneaking glances at you says he’d risk it again in a heartbeat.

Now Sebek tries to be stealthy. Tries really hard. Puts up his walls and declares he will not succumb to such foolish disobedience! But he already has. Because you’re in his room. Curled up in his bed. Wearing his oversized shirt. It’s a disaster. It’s wonderful.

Malleus has NO IDEA. Which, honestly? Makes Sebek more anxious than fighting blindfolded.

You, meanwhile, are delighted.

“Babe. Youre nervous.” “THAT IS A LIE.” “Your voice is louder than-.” “THEN PERHAPS YOU SHOULD—"

You clamp a hand over his mouth and hiss, “Shhh!”

Cue dramatic pacing. Cue Sebek swearing on his honor that if the Young Master walks in, you are to jump out the window and never look back.

Of course that’s when the knock comes.

“Sebek. I sensed unrest. Is everything alright?” “YOUNG MASTER! I—ALL IS WELL. DO NOT WORRY YOUR—YOUR HEAD.” You literally stuffing your face into the pillows to keep from laughing

Malleus, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow outside the door. He can feel another presence. One that makes Sebek’s aura thrum with warmth. He’s quiet. Then speaks.

“…Be careful, Sebek.” And walks away.

Sebek freezes. You peek up at him. “He knows, doesn’t he.”“I AM DOOMED, HUMAN.”

You snort and wrap your arms around him anyway. Doomed or not this is your favorite place to be.

So Deuce was totally against this at first.

“Yuu, what if we get caught?” he’d whispered sweating. “I’m still on thin ice with Riddle! I can’t get another demerit—I’ll die.”

And like. Yeah. Fair. But also? You pouted. You tugged on his sleeve. You gave him the eyes. What was he supposed to do, say no??

So here you are, tucked into Deuce’s bed, while he lies on top of the blanket next to you, eyes darting to the door every time the floor creaks.

And of course. OF COURSE.

Riddle knocks.

“Spade. I’m conducting a room inspection.”

Your souls leave your bodies.

Deuce leaps up, whisper-yelling “HIDE!” and you barely dive into the tiny closet before the door opens. You nearly trip over his boots, clutching his uniform jacket, heart hammering so loud you’re sure Riddle can hear it.

Meanwhile, Deuce is doing his best impression: standing at attention, sweating bullets, and praying Riddle doesn’t notice the two cups on his nightstand.

“Why are there two cups?” “Hydration, sir. I get double-thirsty.” Riddle suspiciously squint. You choke silently on a laugh

Miraculously Riddle moves on. After what feels like three years and a full background check he finally leaves.

Deuce sprints to the closet, throws the door open, and you fall into his arms like a ragdoll.

Platonic Ace with reader who never had a real childhood because they were involved in labour early on and due to this they missed out on a lot of wonders of childhood and all the universal experiences of it.

I live for the trope of ,,someone who never had a childhood meets people who show them what they've missed out on"

PLATONIC ACE X READER

Where he realizes you never had a childhood

You never really understood the big deal about nostalgia.

Everyone always waxed poetic about childhood. About scraped knees and pillow forts and birthday parties. But for you, childhood was more like, grey walls and early mornings. Chores before breakfast. Adult worries.

You’d never played freeze tag. Never watched cartoons on a saturday morning. Never blew bubbles. There was always work, something more important.

And honestly you thought you were fine with that.

You're sitting in the courtyard with a book when a ball hits you square in the back.

"Oops!" Ace calls as he jogs over. "Didn’t see you there, Yuu! My bad!"

You glare ready to snap. But then you see his smile. All teeth no malice. Just a kid, a boy your age, who doesn’t seem to carry any weight in his shoulders.

He offers you a hand. “Come play. Deuce is so bad at soccer that you're sure to score a goal quickly.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Neither am I. Still fun though.”

You hesitate. So you take his hand.

The next week, he drags you out to see fireflies.

"You've never caught one? You're messing with me, right?"

You shake your head. You hadn’t even seen one before coming to NRC. Your nights used to be filled with the sound of machinery from outside.

So he shows you how.

Hands cupped, he passes the tiny glowing creature to you.

You watch it flutter by, a small smile forming on your lips.

IDIA SHROUD X READER

Where you are a lover of wilderness

Okay. So. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Idia wasn’t supposed to like people. That was like, the entire deal with him. The whole no social battery, allergic to eye contact, please just let me die in peace thing.

And then you showed up.

A chaos. With mud on your boots and leaves in your hair and excitement in your eyes every time someone mentioned going outside like it was some kind of reward and not a punishment.

Literally every time he sees you, you’ve just come back from somewhere wild.

“Did you know there's a cave past the woods with glowing mushrooms?” you said once, barging into Ignihyde.

“Also I think a raccoon followed me back. His name is Greg now.”

You said it with a straight face. Like it was NORMAL.

Idia stared at you from under his hoodie, with roughly 78 notifications from Ortho screaming "WARNING: HUMAN INTRUSION DETECTED" still pinging in the background.

“…You named the raccoon?”“Of course I did. He’s a chill dude.”

You grinned. He died inside.

But also kinda didn’t.

Because gods help him, he thinks you’re cool.

Can I request for Octa trio with a fem! s/o who's absolutely obsessed with jellyfish?

Like, she always comes to Mostro Lounge EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Just to admire the colorfull tank water and the jellyfishes in it for like an hour and simply gets out, and she also ramble abt them too, excitingly shares all info's abt them. Tbh idk if u make headcanons, if u do, I would prefer it to be headcanons, if not, that's ok too, u can make it a scenario

Feel free to ignore this if u want to, also don't forget to take care of urself, have a good day

OCTATRIO X READER

Where you are obsessed with jellyfishes

“Shrimpyyyyyy~ you’re OBSESSED with those floaty blobby things, huh??”

At first he doesn’t get it like, really? Jellyfish? They don’t even do anything exciting.

But when he sees how much you light up when you talk about them? The way your whole face glows when you press your hands against the tank glass and gasp like “LOOK AT THAT ONE!!”? He’s hooked.

“Hehehe, you’re so funny when you nerd out. Do the jellyblobs hypnotize you or somethin’? I could just squish your cheeks right now.”

Once he accepts the jellyfish are his rival for your attention, he takes it upon himself to make them interesting to him, too.

That means one day you walk in and find him wearing THAT ONE AND YEAH YOU KNOW WHAT (or were they octopuses??) jellyfish plush on his head.

“Look, Shrimpy! I’m a jellyfish now! Am I your favorite?”

He also names the jellyfish in the tank.

“That one’s named Gumdrop. The glowy one over there? That’s Stabby McFloat.”

If anyone in the Lounge makes fun of your obsession? Floyd will literally chase them out while yelling, “YOU DON’T DESERVE SHRIMPY’S FUN FACTS!”

He starts giving you jellyfish-themed gifts: plushies, socks, custom jellyfish hair clips.

One time he even tried to catch you a real one. thankfully Jade stopped him.

Overall? He doesn’t totally get the jellyfish thing, but he gets you. And he thinks it’s adorable how happy they make you. “Heh… if jellyfish make you smile like that, I guess they ain’t so boring after all.”

He’s immediately entertained. Not in a mean way he just genuinely finds it delightful how into jellyfish you are.

You’re sitting cross-legged in front of the tank like a little kid at an aquarium whispering to yourself:

“That one looks like a wiggly pancake I love him.”

Jade walks over and smiles, tilting his head. “Would you like to feed them?”

You gasp so hard it sounds like you saw a ghost. “CAN I?!?!” (◍•ᴗ•◍)

From that moment on he’s lowkey your partner in crime. You tell him random facts like

“Did you know some jellyfish don’t even sting? They’re just chill little blobs?” And he’s like, “Truly? How peaceful. I wouldn’t mind being one in another life.”

He offers you little trivia challenges like: “If you were a jellyfish, which species would you be and why?” “I’d be a comb jelly because theyre sparkly and slightly useless on land.”

Brings you tea and snacks while you sit by the tank. Sometimes he even refills the lights to match your mood, soft purples on calm days, brighter neon for your hype ones.

One day he catches you humming to the jellyfish and talking to them like they’re pets and he just. Softly laughs. “They seem to adore you too, dear, as do I.”

The first time he saw you sitting alone in Mostro Lounge just staring dreamily at the jellyfish tank for like an hour straight he thought something was wrong.

“Is she… okay?” “Oh, she’s fine,” Jade says with a smile. “She just really likes jellyfish.”

At first Azul is like huh weird, but alright.

But when you keep coming back every day just to sit there with your chin resting on your hands, whispering little facts under your breath like “That one’s probably a moon jelly oh my god it’s so squishy-looking I’m gonna cry,”—he gets curious.

One day you excitedly stop him mid-walk:

“Azul! Did you know jellyfish don’t have brains or hearts but they still move around and glow and do all this amazing stuff?? They're like little aliens, it's so cool!!”

And he’s just standing there. Blinking. Processing.

He tries to act all professional like, “Ahem. Fascinating, yes.” But inside he’s going what the hell she’s adorable??

After a while, he stops pretending and starts actually looking forward to seeing you.

Makes sure there are new jellyfishes and pretends it’s “for variety” but it’s 1000% to see your face light up and go “OH MY GOSH IS THAT A LAGOON JELLY??”

Eventually starts sitting with you during your jellyfish-watching hour, sipping tea and quietly listening as you ramble.He just smiles.

If you can’t then please ignore and have a lovely day!

IDIA, CATER, AZUL AND ACE X READER

Where you, their lover, has insomnia

This has easily been one of my favorite things I've written in a long time. I've taken a couple of days off, and I'm back with the energy to continue with the requests ❤️‍🩹

It’s late. Like, way past any normal person’s bedtime. But your boyfriend, Cater, has a sixth sense.

And tonight, it’s going off.

You’re curled on your bed staring at the ceiling. Your body is tired, but your brain? A swirl of overthinking, static unfinished thoughts that won’t quit.

So when your phone buzzes with a message from Cater, you’re not even surprised.

[Cater]: u up? [Cater]: wait that was dumb, ofc ur up [Cater ]: lemme in 💅

You drag yourself to the door and open it just as Cater’s raising his hand to knock. He grins, already in his comfy white and pastel brown hoodie.

“Hellooo my sleepless babe~” he sing-songs "Is it the stress again? The brain-noise?”

“It just won’t stop.”

He hums sympathetically and climbs onto your bed, tugging you to lie against him. One of his arms wraps around your waist, the other starts gently scratching your scalp.

“Okay, time for the Cater Diamond bedtime treatment. Step one: boyfriend cuddles. Step two: slow breathing. Step three: I scroll soothing TikToks and you rate them until your brain gives up and lets you sleep.”

You giggle softly, already starting to melt. “Is that really gonna work?”

“Duh,” he smirks. “I’m amazing, babe. Have you met me?”

You settle against him, feeling his heartbeat under your cheek. As the jelly video loops, you feel yourself finally relaxing, muscles softening like honey.

“Hey, Cay?” you murmur, half-asleep already. “You don’t have to do all this.”

“I want to,” he whispers, brushing a kiss to your temple. “If my baby can’t sleep, then we’re in it together. Ride or die, remember?”

You don’t reply.

You’re asleep before the next jelly dessert video even starts.

It starts with a knock. One of those tap-tap-tap-tap-tap rhythms that can only mean Ace.

You open the door in your pajamas, rubbing your eyes. “Ace? What are you doing here at—?” You glance at the clock. “—3:17 in the morning?”

He raises a brow, hair messy, arms crossed. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’ve been online for like… hours. What’s going on?”

“…Couldn’t sleep,” you admit, stepping aside to let him in the bed with you. “Again.”

“Tch. I knew it,” he mutters, dragging his arm over his face before rolling toward you. “Is it another insomnia night?”

I’m trying. I just can’t shut it off.”

He yawns, then throws the blanket off with exaggerated drama and scoots over to you. “C’mere.”

“What are you doing?”

“Helping, duh.” He settles behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. “If your brain won’t shut up, mine’s dumb enough to be immune to overthinking, so I volunteer as tribute”

You snort with a smile as you cuddle with him.

“…Want me to talk to you? I can tell you all the ways Professor Trein is secretly a vampire or list the most annoying things Deuce did today.”

You smile, warmth bubbling in your chest. “Go ahead. Talk.”

He does. About nothing and everything. About school, lunch, dumb card games, how he totally did not almost blow something up in alchemy class.

Your eyes drift closed to the sound of his voice.

Eventually, Ace notices the change in your breathing.

You smile into the pillow, half asleep. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, kissing your shoulder real quick like he’s trying to play it cool. “Just remember this when I forget our anniversary or whatever.”

Azul wakes with a start.

His side of the bed is warm. Yours is not.

He blinks blearily into Ramshackle where he slept tonight, where you’re sitting on the couch curled in a blanket, staring out the window.

“…Darling?” his voice is rough with sleep.

You glance back guiltily. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he lies immediately, pushing his glasses on and padding over to you. “But it is 3:30 in the morning. What’s wrong?”

“I just… couldn’t sleep. Again.”

Azul sits beside you without a word and gently pulls you into his side. His arms are warm. “Was it something specific? Nightmares? Anxiety? Overthinking?”

“All of it, I guess. Or maybe nothing.”

Azul hums thoughtfully. Then he reaches over, picks up your hand, and kisses your knuckles.

“I should’ve noticed, you’ve looked tired for days.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not, but I am your partner. Which means if something’s stealing your rest, I want to fight it.”

You manage a tired smile. “What, gonna duel my insomnia with a contract?”

He chuckles, soft. “Tempting.”

Then he reaches into his robe pocket (of course he has this ) and pulls out a small glass bottle.

“I knew this could happen… chamomile elixir. No magic—just herbs. Jade swears by it. Drink?”

You accept it and take a sip. Floral, comforting.

“I’ve read that consistency helps with insomnia,” Azul adds as he strokes your back. “Would you… like me to sit with you every night until it passes?”

Your throat tightens.

“…Yeah. I’d really like that.”

He presses a kiss to your temple and settles you against his chest, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you as the night sky glimmers outside.

Your room is dark except for the blue glow of your phone screen. Again.

The time reads 4:08 and sleep is still nowhere to be found. You sigh, burying your face in your pillow.

Then, your phone lights up with a message from Idia.

[Idia ]: you okay? [Idia]: wait wait I know that pause. you’re not sleeping rn, right? [Idia]: brb. incoming nerd bf

You blink, barely having time to sit up before there’s a soft knock on your door. It opens an inch. A pair of glowing hair flames peek in.

“...Hey. Permission to enter the lair of the insomniac princess?”

You crack a small smile. “Granted.”

He creeps in wearing his hoodie, slippers, and carrying a pillow. He kneels by your bed.

“I brought comfort items. And myself. Which is debatable, but I’m here.”

You scoot over and he slides in beside you, awkward for all of two seconds before his arms wrap gently around your shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything more at first. Just holds you. Breathes with you. Lets you melt into the calm stillness.

“Can I… ramble for you?” he asks suddenly. “About useless game lore or my latest coding? I read somewhere that listening to a familiar voice helps people fall asleep.”

You nod silently.

So he talks. Quietly. Just for you. About dungeon boss drops. AI pathing errors. The time Ortho got stuck in a vending machine. He speaks like a soft stream of words, no pressure to respond. Just something to fill the silence.

You’re almost out when he whispers, “I know it’s hard. When your brain won’t let you sleep. But I’m here, okay? Even if I don’t say the right thing.”

You barely manage a “mmhmm” and a hand squeeze.

He holds you tighter.

RIDDLE AND YUU

Where you claim yourself as his adoptive mother

It had started out as a normal afternoon in Heartslabyul.

Tea. Riddle lecturing you on proper spoon placement.

That is, until Trey accidentally let it slip that Riddle wasn’t allowed to eat sweets as a child.

“He wasn’t even allowed to eat strawberry tarts,” Trey had said with a sigh, cutting into one.

You had frozen. Like. FROZEN. Cup half-raised to your mouth. Eyes wide. Brain buffering.

“…Wait. Hold on. What.”

Riddle blinked at your reaction, his posture straight as always. “It’s hardly anything to make a fuss about. My mother had very strict rules concerning diet and education. I simply followed them—”

“No strawberry tarts?” you repeated, horrified.

“Well, no. Trey and Chenya used to-”

You turned to Trey, voice trembling. “How long did he go without tarts??”

“Seventeen years,” Trey replied solemnly.

You slammed your cup down.

“I’M GOING TO ADOPT YOU.”

The room went silent.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No, no no no no, this isn’t right,” you rambled, standing. “That’s childhood trauma. That’s—emotional malnourishment! That’s—I’m calling your mom. You need hugs and therapy and like. An actual birthday party.”

“Yuu—”

“Do you want a plushie? I’ll get you one. I’ll knit you a plushie. YOU’VE NEVER BEEN HUGGED, HAVE YOU?”

“That’s entirely—!”

“I’m sorry, but you are now legally my son. I don’t make the rules. Except I do, because I’m your new mom now.”

Trey wheezed into his teacup.

“I am the dorm leader, you can’t just declare yourself my—”

“TOO LATE,” you said, already texting Ace and Deuce,

“Riddle is my son now. Spread the word.”

Riddle buried his face in his hands. “Why do I even speak around you…”

You grinned and leaned forward on the table, chin in hands.

“So. Want to bake tarts together later, kiddo?”

He peeked at you from between his fingers—utterly exasperated.

But then, he nodded. A little.

“…Yes. I think I’d like that.”

Later that week, Cater found a sticky note on Riddle’s door that read:

YALL MY SON IS STUDYING DO NOT DISTURB —Yuu

Going straight to the point can I request a spicy fic?

With Kalim?

I like to think he has MANY piercings.... And curiosity leads to ask him about them, and that lead to him showing his nipple piercings and THAT may lead to smth if ykwim.

Ty

KALIM X READER SMUT!

Where you are too interested in the piercings around his body

KALIM THAT DAMN SMIRK- SORRY I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IMAGE TO USE.

⚠️Warnings! This scenario is set during third year, where both reader and Kalim are adults. There's full consent and an established relationship. Kalim takes on a more submissive role in this, while the reader leans more dominant. The reader’s body is not described explicitly, so it can be read as g!reader (gender-neutral reader). Kalim is super OOC because honestly I had zero writing energy yesterday and today. I did my best, but I couldn’t keep his personality intact—so I made him a little less sunshine boy Kalim and a little more damn okay bold Kalim. I’M SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO FINISH THIS even though Pride Month is already over... BUT STILL—HAPPY (BELATED) PRIDE MONTH TO YOU TOO!! 🌈💖

It wasn’t unusual for Kalim to lounge half-dressed in your room. Shirt undone, gold chains across his chest, his bronzed skin—he was a work of art, laid out on your bed.

He had one leg propped up, a pillow behind his back, an apple slice hanging from his mouth when you caught it.

A flash. A shimmer. Something metallic underneath his open shirt. You raised an eyebrow.

“Babe. What’s that?”

“Hm?” He chewed, swallowed, and grinned like he knew exactly what you were talking about. “Which one?”

You sat up straighter. “Have you gotten a new one?”

Kalim laughed, his beautiful laugh, bright and carefree.

“Of course! I told you, didn’t I? I got more piercings when I was back home last break. You only ever see the easy ones.”

He tugged his earrings playfully, then tapped his tongue against the back of his teeth with a little click. The glint caught your eye. That one, you had seen.

But you hadn’t seen what he showed you next.

“I got a few down here,” he said casually, drawing his shirt further apart with both hands. That’s when you saw them—two silver hoops through his nipples, shining against his chest.

Your mouth went dry.

“What the hell, Kalim.”

“Pretty, right? You wanna touch?”

“You’re asking like you don’t already know the answer.”

“Haha! Then why don’t you stop staring and come get a feel? They’re sensitive, hehe”

You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re the worst.”

“Don't say that!—I’m the best, and you’re drooling over my chest right now.”

You rolled your eyes, but your hands were already sliding up his torso, greedy to test his theory.

So i want to request Ace, Deuce, Trey, and Jade with reader who tends to hide behind/cling to them when they get scared?

Thank you in advance❤

ACE, DEUCE, TREY AND JADE X READER

Where you hide behind their back when you're scared

During a spooky movie night at Ramshackle, the second a shadow moved across the hallway, you instinctively grabbed Trey’s sleeve and hid between his back and the sofa.

He glanced down with a soft chuckle, feeling your fingers curl into his jacket.

“Aw, c’mere,” he said, pausing the movie with the remote. “You really don’t do well with this horror stuff, huh?”

You peeked over his shoulder, wide eyed.

“Okay, okay,” he murmured setting the remote aside and shifting so you could settle beside him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you close. “I’ll be your shield. Just tap me three times if something really freaky shows up on the screen, and I’ll block your view.”

You buried your face into his shoulder at the next sound effect, and Trey just smiled—fingers soothingly brushing your arm.

“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed about this. I think it’s… kinda sweet, honestly.”

He turned his head slightly, “You hiding behind me like that— I like that.”

And even if teasing slightly, he's definitely making you a fresh batch of cookies to calm your nerves.

The haunted house idea on your vacations had been Ace’s, obviously.

You’d barely made it past the second animatronic when something shrieked from the shadows and your survival instincts kicked in: you ducked behind Deuce, clutching his arm with both hands.

Deuce jolted—his delinquent reflexes almost ready to punch whatever made the sound—until he realized it was just you.

“Oh—uh, are you okay?!” his voice cracked, and he angled himself between you and the creepy corridor.

You gave a small nod clinging to his jacket.

Deuce flushed. His heart was racing from both adrenaline and your hands gripped him like he was your lifeline.

“It’s okay,” he said, quickly“Don’t worry—I’ll protect you!”

Then he squared his shoulders, even though his legs were definitely shaking too. Still he guided you forward keeping one hand protectively around your shoulders.

Every time you flinched or grabbed his sleeve tighter, he’d mumble, “I’ve got you, I promise,”—even if he jumped out of his shoes every time a skeleton lunged from a corner.

By the time you made it out he was blushing hard, but proud.

“I didn’t let anything get you, right?” he asked sheepishly.

The thunder clapped a little too close for comfort, and your fingers instinctively reached out, gripping the hem of Ace’s jacket before you shuffled behind him like a frightened kitten.

Ace blinked, pausing his step as he turned his head, feeling your forehead nearly press into his back.

“…You good back there?” he asked, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little storm?”

You didn’t say anything—just tightened your grip on his sleeve, and his smirk faltered.

He turned halfway, catching the trembling of your fingers. That’s when he dropped the bravado.

“…Okay, okay, jeez. You’re seriously clinging, huh?”

Despite the words, Ace didn’t move away. He instead adjusted his stride so you could stay tucked just behind him.

“You know, youre like a scaredy cat” he muttered.

He glanced over his shoulder to see you still half-hiding behind him.

“…Cute idiot,” he mumbled, squeezing your hand the next time thunder rumbled.

You should have known not to follow Jade into the botanical during fog hours.

Something hissed from the underbrush.

You practically launched yourself behind Jade, clinging to his uniform as if your life depended on it.

Very slowly he turned his head toward you with an amused hum.

“Oh my…” His voice was smooth “Are you frightened?”

You gave a weak nod, gripping tighter when the hiss echoed again. He chuckled.

“I must admit, I didn’t anticipate such an adorable reaction,” he said adjusting his stance so you could stay tucked behind him. “Don’t worry. None of these specimens will hurt you… while I’m here.”

He seemed deeply entertained, letting you cling to him while he continued to calmly lead the way through the fog, glancing back every now and then to observe your reactions.

“If it helps ease your mind, you may continue to hide behind me as much as you’d like. I quite enjoy being the one you turn to in fear.”

Was he teasing you? Maybe. Was he pleased? Absolutely. He’d tease you about it for days—but in his way, Jade would go out of his way to ensure you were protected. He wouldn’t let anything touch you.

Since Yuu doesnt speak alot in the game, Reader(yuu) also doesnt speak much!! so when they do (aka the dialogue options, or maybe reader just doesnt speak alot lol) it kinda like spooks people sometimes heh

so i was thinking a Selective mute reader(??) x Kalim and one other character of ur choice (id like this request to be like a mini oneshot so just kalim and the other character or kalim by himself, thats what i had in mind!! :3 )

thanks for the posts!! ☀️

KALIM X READER

Where you have selective mutism

It’s not that you can’t speak.

You just usually don’t.

There’s too much noise in the world already, and too many people who talk only to fill space. So you save your words. You let your eyes, your expressions, your actions speak instead.

For some, that makes you unreadable. For others, unnerving.

But not for Kalim.

From the moment he met you, his reaction wasn’t confusion or pity, it was curiosity.

“Wow! You don’t talk much, huh?” he’d beamed on day one, hands on his hips. “That’s totally fine! I talk enough for both of us!”

And heh, he wasn’t lying.

Kalim filled the space around you with chatter, energy, and most of all, patience. He never prodded or pushed. Never asked why you didn’t talk much. Just treated your silences like natural pauses in the song of life.

You liked that. You liked him.

You loved him.

“Hey! Wanna come to the Scarabia after class?” Kalim asks you now, spinning around to face you mid-step, walking backward with zero self-preservation instincts. “I was thinking—hummus night! We’ll cook together, yeah?”

You nod, giving him a small thumbs-up. He beams, clearly thrilled.

“Great! I already got Jamil to prep the ingredients—uh, well, he did that on his own. I think he just didn’t want me to mess up the kitchen again—HEY, don’t laugh!”

You stifle a chuckle. Your shoulders shake with it, and Kalim lights up as though you’d handed him a gift.

You don’t laugh out loud often. You don’t speak often. But he never seems to take it personally. He just treasures the moments you do.

Scarabia is lively as always. Music plays in the background, Kalim’s weirdly catchy pop playlist. He’s tossing pita bread onto a warm plate when he calls over his shoulder:

“Yuu! Taste test this! I tried adding cinnamon to the chickpeas!”

You tilt your head at him, skeptical, but grab a spoonful anyway. You chew, blink, and give him a slow double thumbs-up.

“YES!” Kalim fist-pumps like he just won a duel. “I knew it! Cinnamon makes everything better!”

You give him a look.

“Okay, almost everything,” he amends, giggling.

It’s easy like this. He talks. You listen. You reply in nods, gestures, and, on rare occasions, soft spoken words that make his eyes widen like he’s seeing fireworks.

He never pressures you to speak.

But sometimes… you want to.

Later, you’re sprawled on the lounge cushions, your plate empty and your stomach full.

Kalim’s lying upside down beside you, his legs propped over the armrest, arms flopped over his stomach like a sun-drunk lizard.

“I love hanging out with you, you know?”

You glance at him. He’s looking at the ceiling, like he’s talking to the stars.

“You never make me feel weird or annoying. You just let me be me. And I wanna do the same for you. Even if you don’t talk much!”

You look down at your hands, fidgeting a little with your sleeve.

Your chest tightens—but in a soft, good way. You’ve always appreciated him. But sometimes… sometimes appreciation isn’t enough.

You breathe in.

You speak.

“Kalim.”

Just one word. Just his name.

But he bolts upright like he’s been shocked.

“Wha—! You—” He stares at you, eyes huge, grin half-formed like he’s not sure if he’s dreaming. “You said my name.”

You nod. Slowly. His mouth opens and closes.

“I—I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but… that’s the first time you’ve ever called me that!” He laughs, as if the joy’s too big to fit in his lungs. “Do you… talk more when you’re comfortable?”

You nod again.

“Then I’m glad you’re comfortable with me. Even if you never say another word, I’d still be glad. But that—” he touches his chest lightly, over his heart “—that meant a lot.”

You’re quiet again. But not because you’re afraid. Not because you’re shutting down. Just because you don’t need to say anything else.

Kalim shifts a little closer. “Can I hug you?”

You nod.

He throws his arms around you. Not tigth, he’s gentle, softer than you thought he could be.b

You speak again, voice no louder than a whisper.

“Thank you… for listening even when I don’t speak.”

Kalim doesn’t cry, but his voice does crack a little.

“Always,” he murmurs.

“Always, Yuu.”

Jamil almost drops his ladle when Kalim rushes into the kitchen at breakfast the following day.

“Jamil! Yuu said my name yesterday!”

“…So?”

“Said it out loud! With their voice, so so soft! Like, ‘Kalim’—just like that! It was amazing!”

Jamil raises an eyebrow. “Okay. And?”

Kalim beams. “I didn’t die or explode or anything! But I could have! From joy!”

“…That’s not how selective mutism works, Kalim.”

“I know,” Kalim says brightly, “but it feels like magic anyway.”

Jamil sighs with a little smile. He’ll never understand how someone so loud can still make people feel heard.

I hope my requests are not overwhelming you, as this is my second request not so far off from my first, and this one has a lot more characters. (Of course you don’t have to do all of them!)

But do take your time! :) (I promise you this will be my last request before I vanish for a bit to let other people have their turn! I just love the way you write TWST characters!!)

May I request a fluff one-shot where the reader/yuu has these squishing frenzies with the first years+ Octavinelle+ Kalim, and Malleus separately? (Maybe implied that they are in a relationship??)

Squishing their face and hugging them tightly because they had cuteness aggression by the actions they were possibly doing? Such as their focused face when studying, their smile, or just a because of their presence, for example! ^^

Have fun with this request if you do consider on writing this! <33

-🗝️

FIRST YEARS + OCTAVINELLE + KALIM AND MALLEUS X READER

Where you have attacks of cuteness aggression and you need to squeeze their face

Deuce was coming down the hallway from class, still in his uniform, hugging a textbook to his chest. He looked normal. Perfectly average. But to you? Instant critical hit.

The way his tie was slightly crooked, the gentle smile he wore when he spotted you, the way he brightened just by seeing you there waiting—

Your heart did a backflip and your arms acted on instinct. You launched yourself toward him.

“Wha—? Yuu?!” he exclaimed as you crashed into him, arms around his waist in a bear hug so strong he had to take a step back to keep you both upright.

You didn’t answer right away. Just buried your face into his chest and let out a little muffled: “Too cute. Can’t handle it. Gonna explode.”

"Huh?! I didn’t even do anything though!”

You looked up at him.

“Exactly!! You didn’t even do anything and I’m already this overwhelmed.”

“T-That’s not fair! How am I supposed to react to that?!”

You tugged him down slightly to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything, baby. Just stand there and be your sweet pookie lovely self. I’ll do all the attacking.”

He stood there frozen like a kicked puppy, blinking rapidly. Then:

“…Can I hug you back now?”

You just grinned and nodded into his chest.

Sebek was on his speech pacing in the library as he tried to help you study for a test. He had a hand on his hip, the other waving as he explained historical stuff of the Briar Valley.

You were trying to pay attention, truly. But your boyfriend was too fired up, his eyes with intensity, that proud grin, the way he got all huffy over every little historical injustice like it had personally offended him.

You barely registered what he was saying. Your brain just went like:

“PRECIOUS BOY.” “PASSIONATE LIL LOUD MAN.” “PROTECT AT ALL COSTS.”

“—and that is why the fortress was—GAH! HUMAN?!”

You had suddenly wrapped yourself around him from behind, your arms squeezing his waist and your cheek squished against his back.

“I can’t help it, you’re so serious and proud and you talk with your whole chest—I love you too much, Sebek!”

“You can’t just ambush me like this in the middle of a lesson!”

“But you’re so cute when you're passionate. I had to squish you.”

He spluttered like a boiling teapot, then tried to pry you off—only to end up red-faced and very still when you hugged tighter.

“…Such a menace,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“I like this type of menace,” you said nuzzling into his back again.

Sebek tried to resume lecturing but fumbled every sentence for the next ten minutes.

You had spotted Jack, chatting with one of the Heartslabyul third years, Cater. He was being polite n respectful as ever, but then Cater cracked some joke, and you caught it:

The tiniest twitch of a smile at the edge of Jack’s lips.

It was small. Just a little something warm and rare and so unmistakably him.

Your brain exploded.

By the time Jack turned around and saw you watching, your arms were already open and incoming.

“Yuu?! —woah—” He barely had time to catch you as you launched into him, arms wrapping around his broad chest as you grinned like a fool.

“You smiled. You smiled, and now I have to squish you. That’s the law.”

“It was barely a smile! That doesn’t count!”

You poked his cheek. “Yes it does. That little soft smile? That secretly sweet, totally not scary-at-all expression? Absolutely devastating.”

He groaned but didn’t let go. “You’re hopeless.”

“And you love it,” you sang, nuzzling his chest like a sleepy pup.

“…Yeah,” he mumbled after a pause, resting his chin gently on your head. “I really do.”

You came across Epel curled up in the lounge, clearly exhausted after a long Spelldrive session. His hair was still a little damp from a shower, and he had his sleeves pulled over his hands as he lazily scrolled through his phone.

His face was relaxed, his breathing calm. he looked so gentle. Like a kitten napping in a sunbeam.

Your heart absolutely could not handle it.

Without thinking, you dropped onto the couch beside him and smushed his cheeks with both hands.

“WHUH?! Yuu??!”

He flailed a little caught off guard as you tackled him into a tight cuddle, squishing his soft hoodie sleeves and cupping his squishy face.

“You’re too cute when you’re all sleepy and soft and that hoodie!I can’t take it!! You’re gonna kill me!!”

“I—‘m not soft!! I’m tough!”

You smooshed your nose against his. “You’re a tough guy who needs head kisses and hot cocoa.”

“…Okay maybe sometimes,”

You didn’t stop hugging him for the next twenty minutes.

Ace was lying on the Ramshackle couch, legs dangling off one side, eyebrows furrowed as he tapped his pencil against his notebook. He was surprisingly focused today, eyes narrowed, lower lip stuck out just a bit as he mouthed some formulas.

You had walked in ready to chill, but paused in the doorway. His stubborn pout, the way his hair flopped a little over his eyes, made your brain collapse.

Your hands twitched. Your vision blurred a little.

"Oh no," you whispered. "It's happening."

Before he could look up, you pounced, crawling right onto the couch and grabbing his cheeks in both hands.

“Wha—?! Hey!” he yelped, flailing a little as you squished his face between your palms like it was made of mochi.

“You're too cute when you're focused” you declared as you pressed your lips to his.

Ace's ears went pink instantly, though he tried to fight it with a groan. “C’mon, don’t squish my face—how am I supposed to keep looking cool if you go and squeeze it like that?!”

You didn't let go. If anything, you smushed him more giggling as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. “Deal with it, handsome. It’s your fault for being adorable.”

“…Ugh,” he muttered, but his hands were already coming up to hug you back. “I swear you’re gonna kill me with affection one day.”

And honestly? He didn’t sound too upset about it.

Kalim was dancing barefoot in his room, sleeves rolled up and a bright smile on his face as he tried to juggle both a fruit bowl and a beat from a playlist blasting from his speakers. He looked like sunshine, laughing, clapping along, spinning too enthusiastically and catching himself against the couch.

You were cooked.

Absolutely done for.

You dropped the book in your lap and ran straight toward him, launching into a fullbody hug that knocked both of you onto the plush cushions.

“Yuu?! Wahaha!” Kalim laughed, arms instinctively wrapping around you. “What’s this about?!”

“You’re literally glowing,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. “You were smiling and dancing and just… being you. It was too much. I had to hug you or my heart was gonna explode.”

“Awwww!! That’s the best reason to hug someone ever!!”

You bury your face in his shoulder. “I am physically in pain from how much I love you.”

He just giggled and hugged you tighter. “Then I’ll hug you right back until you feel better!”

Needless to say, he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

Azul had been helping you with homework, glasses perched on his nose, his pen tapping lightly as he explained a confusing concept.

At one point, you managed to answer a tough question on your own, and his eyes lit up ever so slightly. A proud smile tugged at his lips before he cleared his throat and tried to hide it behind a sip of tea.

That smile… oh that shy, proud little smile…

Oh no.

You were on him in seconds, gently tugging the pen from his hand and grabbing his face between your palms.

“What are you—?!”

“You smiled, and now I need to squeeze your face and hug you until my brain resets.”

“Th-that’s hardly necessary—!”

You pulled him into a hug anyway, laying your head on his chest while he sputtered.

“You’re so precious, Azul. You make it impossible to not fall for you a hundred times a day.”

He fumbled for words—any words—before slowly wrapping his arms around you.

“…You are the most infuriatingly wonderful person I’ve ever met,” he muttered, face still buried in your hair.

Today, he was… peaceful. Lying on your lap, arms loosely around your waist, blinking slowly as he stared up at you with a lazy smile. No teasing, no biting, and definitely NO squeashing. Just humming and the occasional nuzzle against your stomach.

And it. Was. Killing. You.

The calm Floyd was somehow more dangerous than the wild one. Because now he was just being adorable.

You buried your face in your hands. “Oh my god…”

“What’s up, shrimpy?” he asked, blinking up at you. “Your face’s all red.”

“I’m having a crisis,” you whispered, then collapsed on top of him and wrapped him up like a burrito.

“WAH—! Shrimpyy?? Hahaha!! You squished me!!” he laughed, though he immediately snuggled into it.

“You’re too cute when you’re quiet and all cuddly,” you muttered, smothering his face with kisses. “My heart can’t take it.”

“Eeeeh~? You like calm Floyd that much?” he said with a smirk, nuzzling your nose with his. “Maybe I’ll be soft just to mess with ya~”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Malleus was sitting beside you under the moonlight, watching fireflies blink over the grounds. He was thoughtful, calm, but soft in the way he glanced at you every few moments.

He wasn’t saying anything special. He wasn’t doing anything fancy.

He was just existing. In your space. In your life. Loving you silently with every gentle breath. Your chest clenched.

You reached out slowly, hands on either side of his face, and just… squished.

Malleus blinked, startled. “Child of Man?”

“Your face, it’s so majestic. And perfect. And handsome. And you’re just sitting there being you, and I’m gonna DIE if I don’t squeeze you right now.”

He blinked once. Twice. Then chuckled, warm.

“I had been warned about your aggressive affections. I now see they were… not exaggerated.”

“I love you so much it’s physically painful, Tsunotarou. Please let me squish you forever.”

Malleus’s arms came around you. “Then, by all means, continue. I find your affection… rather soothing.”

He kissed the top of your head, and you melted on the spot.

Jade had invited you on a quiet walk through the botanical. It was peaceful,l and his was voice gentle as he spoke about different plants and fungi.

At some point, he crouched down beside a small sprout, his gloved fingers carefully brushing aside the dirt as he showed you the roots. He was serene, his usual unsettling grin replaced by quiet focus.

You blinked.

Oh no there it is. The rare Jade softness.

Before you knew it, you were dropping down beside him and throwing your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him like a koala.

“Fufu~? What’s this?” Jade said in amusement, tilting his head. “Have I done something to warrant such an ambush?”

“You’re being soft, Jade. Quiet, patient, gentle, you know that’s my weakness!!”

Jade chuckled, one arm coming up to support your weight as he let you squish him to your heart’s content. “Is that so? I shall endeavor to be even softer in the future, then.”

“You’re a menace to my heart”

Would you be able to do Deuce being embarrassed by his mother babbling about how cute her baby boy was with his little rabbit ears, please???

No pressure, and have a nice day!

- 🍰

DEUCE SPADE X READER

Where his mother can't stop babbling to you about her beautiful child

Meeting Deuce's mom was something you’d been quietly nervous about for weeks.

He’d talked about her with so much love, how hard she worked, how much she’d done for him, how she’d stuck with him even when he was a rebellious menace, and it made you want to be on your absolute best behavior.

So when he invited you over during the White Rabbit Fest to spend a few days in Clock Town, you accepted without hesitation.

Dylla Spade turned out to be warm and welcoming the second she opened the door, pulling you into a tight hug and offering you snacks before you’d even taken off your shoes. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the moment she pulled out the photo albums.

Hereyou were, sitting politely on the couch, sipping tea from a mug that read #1 Son, while Deuce sat beside you as stiff as a plank of wood.

“Oh—Mom, no—” Deuce's voice cracked in the back of his throat as he realized what she was reaching for.

She just smiled, pulling a thick leather-bound book off the shelf and settling next to you on the couch.

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” she told you with a wink. “You have to see what an adorable little bun he was.”

I loved your recent Crowley drabble and I thought of some good ‘ol agnst in a different situation of father Crowley and the reader who is their child. >:)

Crowley lost their child, the reader, due to a tragic accident, maybe an overblot incident they triggered it by accident because they were not self aware of how much magic they were using as they played around. I would like for the reader to be a humanoid, like Ortho, and is applied to NRC as an assistant of Crowley. With some strange looks, some first year students and others question the reader what figure they are suppose to represent and why they are here for.

Reader then explains that they are supposed to represent a figure dear to Crowley, but doesn’t get too much into detail since Crowley cuts them off. It then ends off with them both in the Headmage office, where Crowley expresses sorrow as they cup their cheek.

Have a good day/night!

-🗝️

CROWLEY AND READER

Where he lost his child in an accident and decides to build you as a representation of him

Where, as Crowley's child, you were born with a completely overwhelming and unstable magic, dying of an overblot at a young age. So, Crowley decides to create your new self: a puppet that looks just like his kid.

referring to this fluff where crowley raised reader and he's their self-proclamed father...

art credit to vitacarniss on twitter (I'm not sure if they're the original artist, since there's no explicit signature or authorship on the post)

It was spring when it happened. The garden was awash in pink blossoms.

You, his child, his light, his laugh—were spinning in the field barefoot.

You had been born with irregular magic, but you’d only just bloomed into it. It clung to you like mist. You played with it. Sang to it. You told Crowley proudly that your hands felt tingly every time you concentrated.

He should have seen it. Should have known.

You overblotted by accident.

Too much magic, too much happiness, too much love for the world that hadn’t yet taught you to fear yourself.

The overblot consumed you in seconds.

He saw your little body rise surrounded by darkness, blot, ink, and glittering petals of your magic gone wrong. And then—

Ash.

The headmage never forgave himself.