#twst ace

Riddle Rosehearts

You step into the lounge where Riddle is already waiting, pocket watch in hand, posture perfect as always. He looks up. His eyes go wide. Then wider. Then enormously wide. The pocket watch slips from his fingers and clatters to the floor.

“You…you’re not even dressed!” he’s voice cracking on the last word.

You blink. Look down at yourself. Look back at him. “…I am dressed, Riddle.”

He makes a strangled noise somewhere between a gasp and a teakettle. His face goes from pale to rose red in record time. He takes one step forward, then stops like he’s hit an invisible wall, hands fluttering uselessly. “That is…not… that garment barely qualifies as clothing!”

You cross your arms, which only makes the neckline dip lower, he makes another strangled sound and averts his eyes so fast you’re worried he’ll give himself whiplash. “Riddle, it’s just a dress. I feel cute in it.”

“Cute is one word.” he mutters, still staring at the ceiling. “Another word is dangerous to my health.”

He finally looks at you again and takes a deep, steadying breath. “For the sake of my sanity, my blood pressure… please. Change. Or at least add a cardigan. A very long cardigan.”

When you pout he looks genuinely pained. “…I’ll wear the matching couple’s jacket you like. The one with the hearts. Please...”

You end up compromising, you throw on that jacket. But he still blushes every time the light hits it just right.

Ace Trappola

Ace is on the couch scrolling magicam when you walk in. He glances up casually then does a double take so hard his phone almost flies out of his hand. “Holy…babe. Babe.”

A huge, dorky, shit eating grin spreads across his face. He sits up straight, leans forward, props his chin in both hands like he’s at the theater watching the best show of his life. “Turn around. Yeahhh, that’s the stuff. Damn, you’re serving tonight.”

He’s openly stare, eyes sparkling, already mentally saving mental screenshots. You do a little spin for him and he whistles. Then…about five seconds later…reality crashes in. “Wait. Wait wait wait. We’re going out. Like, to the town. Around people. Who will also see this.”

The grin falters. He suddenly looks like a man who just realized he left his wallet at home after ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. “Nope. No way. Absolutely not.”

He jumps up, yanks his hoodie off in one motion, and practically shoves it at you. “At least put this on. Please. I’m begging. I’ll literally get on my knees. I cannot handle every single guy staring at my girlfriend’s…” he gestures vaguely at your entire torso “everything.”

You raise a brow. “Jealous, Trappola?”

“Territorial!” he corrects instantly. “Huge difference. Now put the hoodie on before I start crying or start a fight. Probably both.”

He spends the entire date with his arm glued around your waist, glaring at anyone who looks longer than two seconds. The hoodie stays on. He still sneaks peeks at your back side every chance he gets.

Leona Kingscholar

You step out and announce “Ready!” with a little twirl.

Leona already half dozing against the wall, cracks one eye open. Then both. He drags his gaze very slowly from your ankles all the way up, lingering shamelessly on every exposed inch before meeting your eyes. A lazy smirk curls his lips.

“You’re gonna be cold.” he drawls. “And then you’re gonna whine about it. Loudly. For hours.”

You huff. “I won’t whine.”

“You always whine.” He pushes off the wall, stretches like a big cat. “But if you’re comfortable freezing your pretty ass off just to look hot, that’s on you, herbivore.”

He doesn’t try to stop you. Doesn’t demand you change. Doesn’t even look particularly bothered. Instead he just grabs his own jacket off the back of a chair, slings it over one shoulder, and jerks his head toward the door. “Let’s go. If you start shivering I’m draping this over you whether you like it or not. And then I’m gonna say ‘told you so’ until you beg me to shut up.”

He does exactly that three blocks later. You’re warped up in his jacket, and he’s walking with smug satisfaction while you grumble. He just mutters “Cute when you’re stubborn.”

Floyd Leech

You step out in the outfit and do a playful little “ta-da!”

Floyd’s eyes light up like Christmas lights. His grin stretches ear to ear, sharp teeth on full display. “Ehhhh〜? Shrimpy looks delicious todayyy~”

You laugh and do a spin, asking “What do you think? Is it too much? Too revealing? I wasn’t sure if…”

He’s not listening…At all.

His mismatched eyes are locked on your cleavage like it personally owes him money. Head tilted. Pupils blown wide.

“…Floyd?”

“Mmm?” Still staring.

“Eyes up here.”

He blinks slowly. Drags his gaze upward like it physically pains him. The grin somehow gets wider. “Too revealing? Nahhh〜 It’s perfect. Shows off all my favorite parts~”

He reaches out, hooks one long finger under the neckline “I could stare at this all day. Let’s cancel going out.”

You swat his hand away. He pouts dramatically but lets you drag him toward the door.

He spends the entire date with his arm slung possessively around you, chin resting on top of your head, occasionally dipping down to whisper little compliments directly into your ear. Half the time he’s not even watching where he’s going, he’s too busy enjoying the view.

Jamil Viper

You walk out confidently. Jamil looks up from where he’s adjusting his bracelets. His eyes flick over you once head to toe then again, slower.

“You look gorgeous” he says, voice smooth and appreciative.

You start to smile.

“Now go change.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

He doesn’t even look guilty. Just raises one brow like you’re being unreasonable. “That outfit is for private viewing only. We’re going to a public place with other people who have eyes. Change.”

You open your mouth to argue. He cuts you off with a single look, the ‘we both know how this ends’ look.

You try anyway. “But I like it. And you just said I look gorgeous.”

“You do. Which is why I’m not sharing the view.” He steps closer, voice dropping. “Change. Or I’ll carry you back in there myself and pick something else out. Your choice.”

You cross your arms. He just waits, patient, unruffled. Three minutes later you’re back in something significantly less revealing. Jamil gives a small, satisfied nod. “Good. Now we can go.”

He still keeps a protective hand on your lower back the entire time you’re out. Just in case.

Lilia Vanrouge

You step out and Lilia’s eyes light up like fireworks. “Fufufu! Darling, you look stunning! Absolutely ravishing!”

He floats in a quick circle around you, clapping his hands in delight. “The cut! The color! The way it hugs every curve! Perfection! And ohhh~” He stops behind you. “Your booty looks gorgeous in this! A true work of art!”

You laugh, half embarrassed, half flattered. “Is it… too much? Does it bother you that it’s so revealing?”

Lilia blinks at you like you just asked something unbelievable. “Bother me? My sweet love, I love the vibe! You’re confident, you’re sexy, you’re turning heads before we even leave the room, why would that bother me?” He grins, fangs glinting. “I want everyone to see what a gorgeous person I’ve claimed.”

Then he claps once. “Wait right there! One moment!”

He zips away in a blur. Thirty seconds later he’s back now wearing low cut shirt with a cropped black jacket with silver chains, leather pants, and boots that match yours perfectly. “Now we match~ Shall we go cause chaos, my love?”

You two end up getting stopped for photos almost every ten feet. You two hold too much power.