#yester.writes

“This is too close, ‘pel…!” Hiding under the thick sheets, you nervously glance at Epel, who looks far too comfortable for someone whose legs are tangled with your own. You have a few inches on him, so he’s nestled in the dip of your chest with an expression between disgruntlement and pleased. “‘Pel? You hearing me?”

“Yer makin’ an awful lotta noise for someone who doesn’t wanna get caught,” he huffs. “Why’d ya have to be taller than me… I was hopin that I…” His thoughts trail off into a mumble, and deep in thought, you decide to take the opportunity to inch away– only for his legs to tighten their grip around you. “Tryna run away?”

“What’s it fuckin’ look like, smartass?” You grunt, trying to squirm and failing. Why does such a cute boy have to have such toned legs?

“You don’t want to sleep with me, [Your Name]?” Epel pouts at you, turning on the charm that Vil has taught him to use as a weapon. “Are the sheets not to your liking? The blanket?” The weight of his arm drapes across your side, fingers lightly teasing the small of your back.  “Or is poor ol’ me makin’ ya uneasy?” 

Epel watches you squirm under his teasing touch with an expression too dark for you to make out under the sheets. Who was the cute one again? With the way you shyly tremble under his lightest touch, biting your lips as if trying to tempt him, he thinks you’re way too adorable for your own good. Pushing your boundaries even further, he slips his hand underneath your thin shirt— your tense body is warm under his touch, and the curve of your waist beckons his fingers to run over them to hear your whimpers once more.

“Haaa… what the fuck,” Epel sighs, nestling within the crook of your neck. His breath tickles your sensitive skin, and even more so when he darkly chuckles at your shivering. “Yer so fuckin’ adorable, I could just eat ya up. Yer not even pushin’ me away anymore, ya tease.”

You reply with only a shaky breath, nerves paralyzing you, and he laughs again. “Scared speechless? I’ll help ya jumpstart that dumb brain of yours. How about… this?” He pinches your waist, eliciting a pathetic whine from you but nothing more. Then those hands of his slip just below the waistband of your pajamas, teasingly fluttering just above the mound of your bottom yet still on your thigh. He strokes it gently, almost like petting a scared bunny. You can feel his violet eyes peer up at you, ascertaining your every move. Your shallow breaths are warm on his forehead as you squeeze your eyes shut and grip his shoulder tight.

“Ha. Ha ha. You’re so goddamn adorable,” Epel whispers, playing with the cloth of your delicates. “Jus’ the slightest touch and you’re all shiverin’ and tremblin’. Bet so many of the others did the same thing to you, huh? Sleeping in their beds… all over them… just like we are now… Bet they probably stroked you like perverts, huh. Though I guess I’m not in a position to judge ☆”

Oh, how ROOK HUNT could watch you and Epel play around all day! Every time Epel leans in with a knowing grin, you blush pensively and inch away, probably embarrassed from the night before. And how does Rook know that? Well, how could he call himself a lover of beautiful things if he missed out the chance to see two youthful beauts frolick in the sheets at night! Guaranteed, he could not see anything since you two made a point to stay under the sheets, but Rook had an imagination to make up for it!

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook makes a point to appear out of nowhere once Epel has been called to Vil’s chambers. You startle with the smoothie bowl you’re having for breakfast, but settle down once you see that it’s only Rook. Stalkerish as he may be, Rook seemed to have more morals than the rest of the unsavory cast here in Night Raven College. Like Silver and… Kalim… and… Jack. You frown to yourself.

Rook seems to notice the sudden shift in expression, because he quickly massages the wrinkles between your brows with two fingers. “Non, non! I shall not have you ruin your beauty with unpleasant thoughts so early in the morning, and in Pomefiore of all places! What ails you so, my dear junior? Has Epel been too rough with you last night? Delicate-looking as he is, that boy does have a mean streak in him—”

“No, no!” You cut him off with a red squeak, not even bothering to question how he knows. When Vil had agreed to letting you stay here, Rook had already declared his intent on keeping an eye on you at all times. “I…! Epel was… lovely, thank you.” You cough into your fist, knowing that he’s already seen through this lie. “Pomefiore is lovely as always, yeah. Nothing wrong here!”

“And yet there is a panic in your eyes, reminiscent of deer staring down the barrel of my rifle.” Mmm, not questioning that either. “Pray tell, Trickster. If not Epel, what could possibly be the cause of your bereavement? I want to know what sorrows afflict that beautiful face of yours.”

“Well, not sorrows.” You laugh a bit. “But I do have some things I’m stressing over. Like Ramshackle’s still broken down, and I can’t keep depending on the houses like this. And I– well, these past few days I’ve come across with some… someone’s feelings for me.” Rook raises a knowing brow at this ‘someone’ but chooses to stay quiet for your sake. “And I just. Well, I don’t really know what to do! I mean, look at me!” You stretch your arms out, looking at him for validation.

“I am looking at you, cher [Your Name], and you are breathtaking even in your morning stupor.”

You flush at the sudden compliment, hands back to playing around with your smoothie bowl. “I’m– I’m flattered that you say that, Rook, but I’m just saying. I’m plain, unlovable, I get pushed around like a doormat, people are always willing to take advantage of me here… I, I… how could they— I mean he— love me? This level of obsession for someone like… me!” You laugh wryly. “It all feels like a joke!”

Rook does not say anything for a few seconds, green eyes staring pityingly at his self-loathing junior. It is one thing to not be aware of one’s own beauty, but it is another thing entirely for proof of your beauty to be thrust in your face in the form of obsession and still deny it. La pauvre! He takes one strand of your hair and twirls it around his finger, sighing forlornly as he looks at you with kind eyes. 

“Come now, mon cher. I know you must have such a rough past for you to think so little of yourself, but the obsession of these boys— including myself— is proof that your beauty is beyond equal. Not only do you bear the bittersweetness of melancholy so well, but your kindness despite your hardships is most captivating! I know that we students of Night Raven College are difficult to deal with, but everyone sees how hard you try.” He smiles at you sweetly and kisses the strand around his finger. “Is that not beautiful enough?”

You squirm in your seat, unable to deal with such sweet words suddenly piled upon you. Rook finally lets go of the [Hair Color] strand and leans back, satisfied with the effect that his words have upon you. “I– I…” You try to mumble out something, but words fail you. He knows that it will take more than sweet words to give you the same confidence that Vil has, but Rook is nothing but patient. 

“I– Could I…?” You wince. “I heard that third years don’t have roommates. Epel is… well, handsy. Could I…?”

Rook beams for a second before something crosses his expression, and he shakes his head with a despondent expression. “Alas, my dear trickster, did you forget? I, too, share the same obsession with these men. Someone like me cannot possibly resist the temptation if your body is too close to mine.”

“How could I possibly turn them down?!”

Rook’s despairing cry shakes his drawers as he slumps down to his knees and bawls out on the deerskin rug. Those earnest eyes…! So full of shining yet misplaced hope! He was overjoyed to hear that plea from you, so willing to play the prince and swoop you from his junior’s naughty hands. And yet! He knew that he would be unable to contain himself the moment your soft body would set upon his mattress!

And he did not want to scare you away either. He can play the reliable senior all he wants, but in the end, he is just another man you have captivated. Carefully peeling away the wallpaper, Rook casts his reverent gaze on the object of his fantasies. 

Your pictures, candid shots capturing your every expression, have nearly overtaken those of Neige and Vil’s. There is a picture of you cuddling up to Grim, unwilling to get out of bed— clearly photographed by someone hanging out the tree by your window. Then there is you in a frantic dash around Mostro Lounge, taken by someone from the employee’s exit. You enjoying ice cream with your friends, you yawning in a lecture, you giggling at ADeuce’s shenanigans, you teasingly stripping down in front of the mirror, you in the bath, you— 

“Ah… ah…” He leans against a picture— you making a peace sign at his phone— and nuzzles against it. “Oh, if I were a more selfish man, could I have finally have you under my touch as well, mon amour?”

VIL SCHOENHEIT is as strict with other people as he strict with himself. The pursuit of beauty, after all, is not only within the self but also found in your surroundings. And because Vil chooses to waste precious time with you, he is particular about every single thing you do. Now that you’re residing in Pomefiore, you feel as if this fussiness has grown tenfold.

“Uh… Vil.” You warily eye the dozens of creams set before you, looking more science experiment than beauty routine. “Is all this really necessary…?”

He glares at your reflection in the mirror, looking affronted. Right now, he’s carefully applying hair oil to the ends of your hair while both of you are wearing face masks. It seems that he’s deduced what Epel had done to you by how smug he was being and how embarrassed you were that he had you quickly moved to his room. “Do you think me an amateur? Of course, we’re not using all of these! Do you not know of the basic rule ‘simple is better’? Honestly.” He shakes his head. “No, these are all for you to familiarize yourself with, while these—” He singles out a few products and taps them with a long nail. “–are what we’re actually using on you.”

“Then why the other ones…?” He huffs, clearly displeased at having to explain everything to you. “You are to familiarize yourself with the most essential of products and their effects if you are going to be living under my watch. Pomefiore students pursue beauty, and that starts with knowledge.” He lifts your uncut fingernails to the light and frowns at them. “Knowledge that you obviously do not have.”

“It’s not like I’m an actual Pomefiore student,” you mumble meekly, holding up a vial of gly… glyco… glycolic acid? and giving it a frown of your own. “I need to rebuild Ramshackle so I can get back to not depending on you guys.” And have you guys take advantage of me, but you leave that unsaid.

Vil scoffs as he brushes through the tangles in your hair. “And where do you think you will be staying while you wait? Scarabia is a snake’s nest, Octavinelle is full of advantageous creatures, Savanaclaw is just downright abhorrent with that indolent prince, and Heartslabyul has more men in rut than the actual dorm of beastmen.” You smirk at that last sentence before he lightly taps your face scoldingly. “No smirking. It’s ungraceful.”

“I just think all your effort is wasted on me.” Vil peels away the face mask and taps the moisture into your skin, finally taking a good look at your forlorn eyes. He sighs and goes back to brushing your hair.

“Did Rook not give you a pep talk this morning? He told me all about it.”

“Yeah, but he’s… Rook.” You smile wryly. “He can find anything beautiful. But I… I’m not like that. You’re beautiful, that’s why it’s understandable when people want you, but I…”

“Indeed, I am beautiful.” He doesn’t sound haughty about it, just stating facts. “But you know my story. Things don’t always go my way just because I am beautiful. It is why I spend every waking hour putting my utmost effort into everything I do so that I can do things even without needing to rely on this face of mine. But you—” He pinches your cheek. “— my foolish junior, running themselves ragged just to prove that they can be relied on, are the complete opposite. Your hair is full of split ends, your face could be more moisturized, all these things could be avoided if you took better care of yourself, and yet—!” 

He guides your face to the mirror, where a dewy-looking [Your Name] stares dumbfoundedly at the mirror. “I choose to fuss and look after you. Do you know why?”

"Um… why?”

He straightens his back and pats down your hair. “Because you could be more than you are right now. The Fairest Queen had no king to call hers, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t take a consort of my own. I will melt you down till you fit the mold I have for you, then polish you till I can wear you and make everyone around us green with envy— of you or me, it will not matter.” 

“Consort?” You squeak, shrinking in your seat before Vil grabs you by the shoulders and straightens your posture. “I– I don’t think—” “And you don’t need to,” he cuts you off. “All I require for you is to be not a complete idiot, but even I find your naivete irritatingly charming, so I suppose we don’t need to get rid of that.” He bends down until your cheeks press together, and you both look at your reflection. “Look at that. A little bit of polish and we make a dazzling pair, don’t you agree?”

Feeling his nails dig into your skin, you nod without much thought and come back up with a satisfied smile of his. “Exactly. Just follow my orders and you will be the most darling in all the lands, even more than that infuriating Neige LeBlanche.” He spits that name out like venom, but upon seeing the wrinkles creasing around his brow, he relaxes and turns around. “Come along, pup. I will have you drink a vial of my own making, an elixir promoting gut health in your sleep, before it’s lights out.”

You scamper to meet his long strides, fidgeting with the loose threads of your pajamas until Vil shoots you a disapproving look, and your hand falls to your side. He hands you a purple vial. As a show of good grace, he pops the cork of his own vial and gracefully drinks from it. It’s not poisoned, probably, so you clumsily fiddle with the cork in hopes of getting it off.

“You really have no grace in your actions.” Vil shakes his head and grabs the vial from you. In one swift motion, he pops the cork off, but rather than handing it back to you, he raises your chin with one slender finger and tips the contents of the vial into your mouth. Taken aback, you start hacking into your fist and stumble back.

“Oh, relax. There’s no poison in there.” Vil rolls his eyes and guides you to his bed.

“R-Really?” You murmur, dazedly sinking into the plush of his mattress. You don’t know what to trust anymore these days.

“Of course,” he huffs. His beautiful face is still in that perpetual scowl of his as he tucks you in and smoothes your bangs down until you feel your lids growing heavy. “Sleeping potions aren’t considered poison. Ah, ah, you needn’t worry.” He hushes you before you squeak out a protest. “This is necessary. Look at you, poor thing. You haven’t gotten a proper wink of sleep these past few weeks, have you?” You open your mouth again to protest, but ah… everything is just so… comfortable…

He hums, finally allowing himself a small smile as he continues stroking your hair. “Those eyebags are dreadful, but now under my care, you will get a good rest.” He presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “After all, I’m the only one who can properly take care of you.”

What did he expect? Of course it was Trappola up to his shenanigans. Sebek had also tried to leave the group chat many times before, but Ace was so adamant on keeping him there that he decided that putting the group on mute was a better use of his time than trying to push the point. Just as Sebek was about to put his phone away and head to the library, another grating ping came from the group chat.

SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): [image attached] EPEL FELMIER took a screenshot. DEUCE SPADE  took a screenshot. SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): AHAHHAHA desperate weirdos TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): shut the hell up u took those SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): actually 🤓 i got them from cater. saw him slacking off painting the roses so i got him to give me some pics of his playdate with [y. name]. he was pretty mad about it tho lololol class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): i dont think bargaining with cater is a good idea… SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): wtvr… SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): cmon cmon @/Jack Howl @/racist …. i know you want a screenshot.. cmon…

The image attached was a picture of the prefect, tears welling up in their eyes as they nurse a bruise on their cheek. It was clear that they were forced to hold up a peace sign by whoever was behind the camera, their oversized sleeping shirt dipping from their shoulder to expose their clavicle and the sliiighest hint of their chest. It was not a picture that Sebek was interested in, and he was sure that Jack Howl shared the same sentiments.

What was it with these humans and their overly sadistic tendencies? Trappola had made it their favorite hobby to torment the prefect both physically and mentally, Felmier liked to switch from sugary-sweet to downright devilish just to knock their guard down, and even Spade who tried to his best to become the prefect’s protector couldn’t hide his glee when they were vulnerable and in need of someone stronger. Howl, for all his beating around the bush, did not goof around when it came to the prefect’s safety. Sebek shook his head. Humans were truly the worst.

TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): at LEAST i didnt get my ASS BEAT BY MY HOUSEWARDEN SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): fym you didnt get ur ass beat?!?! I KNOW HOUSEWARDEN VIL HAD SOMETHING FOR YOU. U DIDNT BRING [Y. NAME] WITH PERMISSION TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): and what YOU DID? class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): he actually did believe it or not class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): he went through all the rules and procidures so that housewarden riddle wouldn’t have any place to say no racist (SEBEK ZIGVOLT): *PROCEDURES SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): *procedures JACK HOWL: *procedures TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): *procedures class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): I FUCKING GET IT OK SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): *okay

Just as the entire group chat begins to blow up about how Sebek is online, he shoves the phone into his pocket and finally looks up— just in time to bump into the person who has been occupying his thoughts as of late.

“Ffngah! Henchman, are you okay?!” Sebek’s sturdy chest has you sprawled on the floor and your familiar is fussing over you as you try to get your bearings. The contents of your messenger back has been spilled, and Sebek lets out a frustrated long sigh before he bends down and picks them up.

“Human,” he starts, same scowl on his face as always. “It is absolutely irresponsible of you to inconvenience people like this in the hallway! You best look where you’re going!” He picks up the papers— for history you held high marks, but another paper with your magical alchemy after-report depicts an embarrassingly low grade. Disgraceful.

Grim leaps on his four feet, hissing at Sebek. “Whaddya mean ‘look where you’re going’?! My henchman’s been calling out to you since awhile ago before you decided to bump into them! This is all your fault, you stupid pompadour!” Sebek’s eyes widen at the insult of his very carefully maintained hairstyle and opens his mouth to yell at the inspid cat, but your visibly tired face catches his mind and he composes himself. He’s no stranger to the absurd rumors around you— he’s even in a group chat of the perpetrators— and he decides to grant you some mercy. You are already overwhelmed as it is, and while that is no excuse to slack off on your responsibilities, even Sebek has to admit that your situation is far from ideal.

He forcibly pulls you up by the wrist with no grace whatsoever, but his hands are gentle when he smoothens out your hair and fixes your uniform. “You are a disgrace to look at, [Y. Name],” he bluntly states, stepping back to assess you. “I have heard that you stayed at a time in Pomefiore. Why is the condition of your skin severely lacking?”

“That’s because I’m staying in Ignihyde now,” you say, picking up Grim and giving Sebek a grateful smile. “Can’t sleep. Not with all that clicking and clacking and—” You visibly pale before shaking your head and feeling the lobe of your ear for something. “Sorry. Shall we go the cafeteria together?”

Unlike the others, Sebek has always noted how you don’t feel offput by his overbearing demeanor. Ever since the events of his young lord’s overblot, he has built a… rapport with the other first years. Nevertheless, they liked to complain of his tendencies. Absurd! When clearly he was the only one among them who knew how to hold himself in a dignified manner! At least you had the decency to heed his words. You smile thoughtfully when he tells you to straighten yourself, you listen attentively when he teaches you even with all his smug remarks, and when he tells you to go behind him, you do without a single peep. He would think that you enjoyed being nagged. But since you had the nerve to hang around his young lord, then you should at least have the humility to listen to his retainer!

Walking side-by-side with you, he feels his role of a protector more than ever. Even though he is one of the knights of Briar Valley’s next prince, he is keenly aware that his young lord’s power exceeds his own. You, however, lost and afraid and an alien… you could not even lift a finger against him if you tried. He thinks back to the picture sent by Ace in the group chat and shakes his head. The pathetic human is already pathetic. Why drive them further into their own misery?

“You should stay away from the others for a while,” he says, sounding more than a demand rather than a suggestion. “I am sure you are no fool, [Y. Name]. None of the other dorms act in your best interests. Until Ramshackle is restored, it is best you stay over in Diasomnia for your own sake.” You seem to eye him warily, but you soon shake whatever thoughts are forming in your head. “Master Lilia has voiced his thoughts last night over… ergh, dinner.” He had to brush his teeth for half an hour to get the taste out. “Young Lord and Silver are of the same sentiment.” He thumps his chest with his fist proudly, a smug look crossing his features. “Diasomnia will provide you with more hospitality than those other fools. After all, we conduct ourselves with actual dignity.”

This unfriendly sentiment earns looks of ire from the other dorm students as his voice booms down the hall.

“What’s that about dignity, Sebek?” From behind you, Ace clicks his tongue in annoyance. He’s glaring at the fae with hands on his hips, followed by the rest of the first-years.

“Yeah,” Deuce nods, cracking his knuckles with a dangerous look on his face. “You’re speaking real loud for a guy who’s about to go 1v4.”

“Hold on, I wasn’t agreeing to a fistfight, you fucking idiot.” Epel and Jack sighs, moving forward to leave behind the bickering fools as your group enters the cafeteria. “You got a lot to say about hospitality, huh?” Epel leans forward to peer at Sebek’s face, sticking to your side as you all fall in line. “What could you possibly know? I think I did a good job with my hospitality.”

“Harassment, more like,” you snort, piling food on your tray every time Grim points out something. Epel elbows you in the hip and you jerk, but Sebek takes note of how you don’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. Jack, meanwhile, casts a disapproving frown towards Epel. The boy just shrugs and sticks to your side even more.

“Gotta take advantage,” Epel says out loud, increasing his volume for the newly-arrived duo. “If I gotta share my bed, I should at least get something out of it, right?” His smirk looks out of place on his angelic features. “I know I got something out of it. Or something out of you.” This time, you were the one to elbow Epel.

Ace peeks his face from out behind Jack’s towering build, eager to butt into the conversation. “Why’re you acting like you’re the only one who slept with—” Jack now elbows Ace.

Now, you look mildly uncomfortable. The conversation had attracted the attention of the people you were in line with, and Ace’s outburst continued to turn the gaze of others. You already knew about the rumors circulating about you— how easy you were, how much of a Jezebel you must be. You averted your gaze from one leering Ignihyde student, who squeaked when five boys glared him down with the same ferocity of a lion. Even Sebek felt the teeniest bit mortified for you.

“You’re too loud,” Sebek stiffly addresses the others. Jack looks miffed to be lumped with the others. The others look similarly miffed to be called loud by Sebek of all people. “If you’re going to be indecent, do so in private.” You flash Sebek a grateful smile before heading to find yourselves a seat. The other boys took note of the bright blush tinging his cheeks before he follows you.

“Cheat,” Ace mumbles. Everyone except Jack nodded in agreement.

“You look tired, [Y. Name],” Deuce comments as soon as the group settles down on a table far from the other students. You seem to have caught on what would be the topic for the remainder of your lunch, so you decided to think ahead and save yourself the impending embarrassment. “Have you been sleeping much since Heartslabyul? You can always go back if you want.” Jack scoffs. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t get much sleep either over there.” Deuce blushes pink before erasing whatever image he had brewing. Ace shoots a knowing grin his way.

He points a fork at the beastman, who guides it down and scolds him for the rude gesture. “You stole them away from me— er, us.” He amends his mistake when Deuce scowls at him. “Eager to play knight, huh?”

“I actually got some sleep over at Jack’s, by the way,” you chime in. Jack’s tail starts to rapidly wag. “Perhaps the most normal night this month.”

The conversation devolves into idle chatter, comparing the dorms you’ve stayed at and commenting on your hosts’ quirks. You carry yourself nonchalantly, as if you’re not describing being harrassed and being drugged. This amuses and delights both Ace and Epel, while Jack shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Deuce is currently squirming, desperately trying to stop himself from imagining how each night went. It is clear to everyone (except maybe Deuce) that you’re omitting some things, but only Ace has the audacity to push for more details.

“So what’s that pervy dormhead making you do, huh?” Ace leans in with an eager grin.. “Is he making you cosplay his anime waifus in his mancave? Hmm…?”

There it is again, you feeling the lobe of your ear for something that isn’t there. Sebek catches on as your eyes nervously flit everywhere, until your eyes catch his probing ones and you force yourself to settle down. “I’d rather be anywhere than in Ignihyde right now,” you say, voice the most seething he’s heard you. It also feels like a plea, as you throw him a glance before going back to your food. “Then just leave,” Jack suggests, as if it were ever that simple. “Stay the night at the infirmary. Or you can come back to Savanaclaw.” Ace. “You’re not fucking slick, Jack.”

“I tried, okay.” Brushing off the suggestion, you purse your lips. “But that cree– Idia is er, surprisingly insistent. Pushy. Forceful. Take your pick. Ortho won’t even let me step out of the mirror for classes unless he’s with me.” Everyone nods in understanding. After all, who could outrun an android that can laser beams out of his hands? 

“At least Ortho’s taking good care of you,” Deuce tries to comfort you. You respond with a sardonic smile and choose to not comment any further. 

“Poor Sebek can’t say anything~” Ace teases, pointing at him with alternate fingers. “Jealous? If you can manage to get Ortho outta the way, then it’s gonna be Diasomnia’s turn. You exci~iited? A sleepover with our pretty lil prefect~?” “AS IF!” Sebek yells, shooting up to glare daggers down at the unfazed redhead. “IT IS UNCOURTLY TO SHARE A ROOM MUCH LESS A BED WITH YOUR—” He catches himself before he can say something he does not want to let slip. He calms himself and sits down, leveling everyone with mocking gaze. “I am not as beholden to beastly urges as you lot. [Y. Name] is to get the most hospitality in Diasomnia and have their own room. In fact, Master Lilia has already arranged for it. As for Ortho—” His face takes on a smug look. “He is not a match for Master Lilia. We will welcome [Y. Name] and Grim by morning light as soon as we finish up preparations.”

Epel furrows his brows, tilting his head as he thinks about something. “Hm… but doesn’t Lilia seem the type to…?”

Sebek feels the urge to yell at Epel for having such disgraceous thoughts about Lilia, but even he finds himself frowning as he considers the possibility. “Well… Master Lilia has his… quirks, but he is a great man nonetheless. A gentleman, even. I have the utmost faith that he will handle [Y. Name] with the manner befitting a host.”

Ace leans in to whisper in Epel’s ear. “Yeaaaah Lilia is up to no good.” “YOU ALWAYS HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, DON’T YOU?!” 

You are comfortably more at ease during Sebek’s whole tirade, though some of the tension is still there. “Whatever the case, anywhere is better than Ignihyde right now.” Your gaze narrows slightly, your voice dropping to an angry whisper as if something heated had angrily grasped your chest. “Anywhere is better than here.”

Sebek and Jack exchange a glance, sensitive hearing having picked up on your heated words. They purse their lips and look away.

“Where are you going?” Epel calls out. You have abruptly stood up and taken your tray with you, barely even having touched your food. Grim is all too eager to finish the rest of them as you begin to walk. “You’ve barely even eaten…!”

“Going to Headmaster’s,” you say. You try to keep your tone light and airy, but your throat is still tight. “Don’t wait up for me. I’m not attending classes today to attend to the Headmaster’s task. See ya.”

Sebek lays in his bed, thinking about that look on your face this afternoon. You’ve always worn this passive mask, always placating the more temperamental mages with half-hearted assurances and forced smiles. It’s a mask that has clearly already been worn before. 

He thinks about traversing dreams with you and Silver, that same look of bitterness as you played audience to the dreams of many. He had stood shoulder to shoulder, unwillingly watching the absurd dreams of these humans play out before you. Humans have always been ugly creatures, but they had this alarming ability to pretend that they weren’t. You were especially great at that, yet even you couldn’t reign in the jealousy from distorting your face.

He had never commented on it. There were bigger things at hand. He needed to save Young Master, Master Lilia was dying, Silver was the child of his land’s colonizers… But what could there possibly be jealous of? Were you so eager to lay your soul’s deepest desires bare just like the rest of them?

With a groan, he rolls over and buries his face into the pillow. Curse you! Restful sleep evades him yet again tonight, solely because you preoccupy his thoughts!

His phone buzzes and he hesitates for a second before reaching for it. It is not a good habit to use gadgets before you sleep, but his mind is too busy to sleep that he might as well use some of its energy on whatever nonsense the group chat has cooked up.

TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): they whine so prettily as well  TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): and they’re so soft… down there…  TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): then they stare at you with those big eyes cuz they want you to stop… but it’s kinda hard to stop cuz theyre soo fucking cute SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): yeah im hard class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): oh my god he’s shuffling a lot do NOT JACK OFF NEXT TO ME SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): hard typing w one hand :/ JACK HOWL, EPEL FELMIER reacted 👎 DEUCE SPADE reacted 🤢

Abhorrent. How can one be so shameless with their lust? And in front of others as well? If one could see Sebek’s face right now, the disgust may leave such a lasting expression on them that you’d think he came across a defacement of his Young Master’s portrait. 

class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): i wish i could’ve slept with [y. name] 🙁 TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): 🍆🍆🍆 class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): NOT LIKE THAT .. IM NOT ACE WTF SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): yeah hes worse JACK HOWL, DEUCE SPADE, EPEL FELMIER reacted 👎 SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): tf? SEBEK ZIGVOLT reacted 👎 SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): ??????? class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): after ace threw us out seniors cater andd trey decided to take [y. name] for themselves… i never had the chance 😔 its so UNFAIR SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): thems the brakes in nrc. you snooze, you lose EPEL FELMIER, JACK HOWL reacted with 👍

Sleeping with the human…?

Sebek shuts off his phone and places it on the bedside, groaning to himself as his thoughts grow louder. It’s all that everyone talks about these days. He had heard Floyd bragging about it to Riddle in the library, his voice echoing through the shelves as he droned about what he had done to you. It was nothing short of harassment, and Riddle seemed to agree because he decided to furiously cast Off With Your Head on Floyd. But even Riddle had retorted about having you in his bedroom for a tea, talking about marriage talks that even had Floyd looking dangerous (if it weren’t for the collar around his neck). 

Silver and Lilia even insisted on not bringing Malleus out to eat anywhere publicly as long as these rumors went around. The three of them knew all too well about his fondness for you, and that he’d surely strike down the rumormongers who liked to comment on what your performance could be like in bed. You must have been elated to have Ramshackle destroyed, they say, because now you have an excuse to whore yourself out as much as you wanted. Sebel had struck down a few students for saying that within his earshot. How much more Malleus?

Still. It vexes him how much one human— and a non-mage at that!— could stir up an entire school like you do. You liked to play the unassuming part, a supporting role as you set up the stage for the mages to take center. Not to say that you were unassuming. You are on the prettier side… but… Sebek hides his blush deeper into his pillow. The fact was! You were nothing special! Nothing special, indeed…

class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): i wish i could’ve slept with [y. name] 🙁

He thinks back to Deuce’s message. To prostate themselves over a mere magickless… how humiliating for a student of Night Raven College! What was there to wish for! To have your body nestled next to his, sharing your warmth as you shielded yourselves from Diasomnia’s cold? To have your fingers clasped around his sword-calloused hands, comforting yourself as you experience a nightmare? To open your eyes and see Sebek, relief flooding you as you know that there will at least be one man in this world who wouldn’t hurt you? To press your lips on his forehead, then on his cheek, then to his cold lips? To have your lips sweetly say the words he’s been…

Sebek shoots up, absolutely mortified at these dangerous thoughts. Sebek Zigvolt! A trained warrior from birth, heir to the noble and dignified Zigvolt line! How could he let his thoughts fall to depravity! For his temptations to succumb to one (albeit pretty-looking) human! He shakes his head as if trying to loosen all the blockage from his brain, massaging his aching temples. Tomorrow dawn, he will swing his sword a thousand times to atone for this weakness!

But tonight, he pouts to himself and squeezes his eye shut, traitorous mind wandering off to when he might see you within the halls of Diasomnia again.

a/n ! im gonna be real w u idk what i was going for either... i wanted something that would be an insight into what mc was going through... but rather it seemed to be an insight on a perverted gc and a more (normal) sebek [hes gonna have his yandere moments in his section dont worry]. i was hoping to use sebek to provide a more normal perspective on whats going on... but hmmm :/// also jack doesnt talk in the last gc convo bc its way past his bedtime and hes sleepy lol. i think rushed thru this intermission too much. ill take my time and perfect the diasomnia one! promise!

⤻ PHAINON.

He really shouldn’t be taking advantage of your trust, not when you so willingly invited him to bathe together. And yet he can’t help sneaking glances at your dripping figure every now and then, hoping that the steam would somewhat hide his perverse intentions.

“Phainon?” Your sweet voice calls out to him, and he startles. He looks at you, beet-red, and you cock your head. “Oh, poor thing. Is the bath getting to you? You’re all red!” You reach out a hand to feel his forehead, but he instinctively jolts away from your touch, like a sinner afraid to taint the sister. Your body is now noticeably closer, and Phainon doesn’t want to know if that new heat he’s feeling is from the water, your body, or a psychological defect.

“I’m okay, really,” he reassures you, smiling awkwardly all the while. “Probably just the steam, but I’ve handled hotter with Mydei.” He shoots you a grin, but you don’t seem to buy it.

“You sure?” You press. He thinks the way your brows scrunch and those eyes turned downward in worry is so cute, but he has to suppress that urge to bring you into a cuteness-aggression-induced hug and look away. He reassures you again, this time more mumbled and half-hearted, sinking into the water as if to baptize himself anew. You look at his strange behavior worriedly. “I’m not… I’m not being a bother, am I?”

He shoots out of the water, making you yelp when he gets water all over you. “Not at all!” He near-shouts in your face. His muscled hands, carved and sculpted like fine marble, have grabbed you by the shoulders. His wide blue eyes look at you in both disbelief and panic. “You could never— I would never think—! You’re– You’re not a bother at all!”

“O-Oh,” you squeak, taken aback by his eruption and by… something. “Th– That’s a relief, then…!”

Phainon continues rambling. “In fact, you couldn’t believe how ecstatic I was when you invited me into the bath. I mean, I know that sounds wrong, but I’ve been wanting to get closer to you, and I thought this was finally my chance! And I know this sounds so bizarre, but I really, really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and the rest of the Chrysos Heirs and—”

“Phainon…!”

“ — And I know Mydei, and I take up your time cleaning up after us ‘cause we’re both stupid, but you have no idea how happy it makes me knowing you’re there to look after us. It’s not like I want you to babysit us or anything, but the thought of someone caring for us is just nice, you know? So I really wanted to take the time to thank you, but you’ve been making me so flustered that I—”

“Ph– Phainon!”

You seem to startle him back to his senses, and he blinks down at you. It was only then that he realized the softness of your tender skin cupped in both of his palms, and he stumbled back, murmuring apologies for hurting you. That doesn’t seem to be the problem, not when you cover your blushing face with your newly freed arms. He looks down at you in confusion… before he realizes the very problem hanging out right in front of you both. And chubbing up… slowly, in front of your face. Now thoroughly mortified, he plops back down in the bath with the same beet-red face from before.

Silence ensues. Only the monotonous rush of water and the deafening stillness could be heard. “I– I’m sorry,” he mutters. Maybe if he proves how genuine he is, you won’t call HR on him.

“D– Don’t be,” you mumble back. You curl a strand of wet hair around your finger, absentmindedly playing with it as you try to look everywhere but him. The glistening droplets shine like dew on your skin, and the steam frames you like a halo, and so even in the face of his depravity, you still seem like a cherub more than anything. You offer him a crooked grin.

⤻ MYDEI

The nakedness of the bare flesh isn’t something that can move the Prince of Castrum Kremnos. He’s had men and women slip into his chambers, try to tempt him by stripping themselves of their flimsy chitons, and receive nothing but a cold lookover from him. During his days as a wandering general, he had followers dropping themselves at his feet just to have a chance to carry his heir. Nothing.

Looking at you now, skin supple and tender from the heat of the baths, he feels something carnal stirring within him. He’s no prude; he knows this feeling, but frustration seems to also cloud his thoughts as you lounge across him with a lazy grin.

“Don’t you think you’re staring too much, your Highness?” You tease. Your back is arched in a way that can only be intended to seduce, naked chest covered with only a thin layer of steam. “Keep doing that, and I’ll tell your people what a perv their future King is.”

He won’t let himself be goaded by such cheap teasing. He scoffs and mirrors your languid posture, looking kingly and regal in these baths. “If a cup of wine is presented before me, should I not partake in its sweetness? Don’t try to act the fool; it’s not very befitting.”

“Wise and responsible rulers know not to inebriate themselves in front of their people.”

“A good thing that there’s only you and me in these waters, then,” he hums. He crooks his finger at you. “Come hither, you tempter. If you plan on acting like a harlot, you might as well do it where I can properly see you.”

You know challenging the prince would be no easy task, but you didn’t think that he would use your own brazenness against you. At the open provocation, you find yourself wanting to cover up your body and sink beneath the water. To hide where his gaze does not touch. But you can’t bring yourself to disobey the demands of royalty, so you slowly wade your way to his side.

He swipes the strand of hair sticking to your forehead, smirking when you try not to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?” His huffed laugh, rare yet warm, sends something warm through your body. “Not so cheeky now, are we?”

You pout. You want to act coy, try to act coy— it’s too soon to concede defeat— but you feel like you’re failing when you shudder at his touch. “Anyone would be embarrassed when someone stares at them the way you do,” you huff. “You trying to burn a hole through me?”

“I’m not such a brute that I don’t know how to enjoy the luxuries of life.” From your cheekbones to your collarbone, every teasing touch is poised to further edge you on. His Highness seems to enjoy having the tables turned on you as he watches you squirm, rough hand clamped around your plush waist to ensure your entrapment. “In case you forgot, you’re the one who offered yourself up to me.”

⤻ DAN HENG 

For the most part, Dan Heng is doing a pretty good job of composing himself. You thought that he’d sneak some glances or not look at all, but Dan Heng holds a conversation with you normally, like you’re not naked under all this steam and water. You grumble and kick water his way.

Startled from his tranquil relaxation, Dan Heng stares at you questioningly. You kick another wave in his face. In response, he clasps both hands and expertly squirts water in your face. You cough and splutter. “What’s gotten into you?” He asks, watching you recover from the attack. “Why’re you suddenly angry?”

You sigh like the lead heroine in dramas, posed dramatically on their bed as they’re about to announce their life-threatening illness. “Do you think I’m attractive, Dan Heng? Do you think my body is not something to be ogled at?”

He raises a brow. “I do, yes.” You stare at him expectantly, but he adds nothing else and instead doubles down on the quizzical look. “What exactly do you want to hear?”

You double down on the glare. “I want to know why the hell you’re not looking at me!”

“Looking at what?”

The quick response has you opening and closing your mouth like a fish, before you settle down and purse your lips together. Looking at what, this hot and sexy dragon says from across you. Like he doesn’t know how to deal with pining love interests. You’ll show him. Without a warning, you scoot over to his side of the baths as elegantly as one can scoot, feigning nonchalance as his eyes follow you. 

“What are you doing?” He says, once you’ve made yourself comfortable.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

He hums. Huh, he’s actually thinking about it. You sigh in frustration when he takes an absurdly long time to answer only to shrug at you. You swear, you’re gonna kill this dude. “You’re hopeless, Imbibitor Lunae,” you grump. In a bold move driven by impatience and frustration, you take his arm and let it drape over your shoulder. You sigh in satisfaction and take a peek at him. His expression is frozen.

“...? Dan Heng? Dan Heeeeng.” You poke his cheek. You tilt your head when you elicit no reaction from him. “What? Is this some prank or something? Cut it out.”

“N– No,” he coughs and looks away from you, the tips of his ear burning red. “I, er, I think I should be getting out—”

“Nooo way, mister!” You pout. “All this seducing and then you suddenly bail on me without letting me know why? What’s up, what did I…” His biceps around you, then his fingers, flinch as you move your body again. Then you feel it— the brush of rough fingers against your… your…

Your face looks like it’s about to explode with how red you’re getting. Dan Heng is staring at his own hands in shock, as if in disbelief of what he has just done. He quickly pulls away, flexing his fingers in a disastrous attempt to not replicate the feeling of your chest in his hand. To his chagrin, they do another cupping motion as if they could still feel the supple flesh around them. He chokes and hopes you don’t see it. He sees your eyes focusing on his hand and he quickly submerges himself in the hot spring’s waters in some attempt to boil the impure thoughts out of his mind.

You wait for a few moments. Nothing comes back up except for a few bubbles.

“Dan Heng? Dan Heng?! You’re going to drown like that!”

⤻ ANAXAGORAS

“Um, professor…?” Your meek voice echoes around the limestone walls, making you keenly aware of your shared solitude with the green-haired blasphemer across you. The steam barely covers your half not submerged by water, and you wonder if it’s the embarrassment or the heat that’s making you flush. “You’re, uh… Is there a problem…?”

Anaxagoras remains unmoved, sole eye still fixated on the spillage of your chest. It’s a playful thing, fluidly moving with your every squirm. There are times when very sliiightly he can see your areola peeking out from the water, only for it to hide back in the water again. His gaze seems to unknowingly harden every time it does that, but you don’t know that he’s taking a peek at your chest nor does he know what expression he has. In the end, all this makes you feel like you’re getting ready for an oral examination with the professor.

Another call of his name finally has him snapped out from his tit-induced stupor, and he schools his expression into his normal stoic one as he finally heeds you. “You’re awfully self-conscious for someone who barged into my baths. If the baths do anything other than its intended effect of relaxation, mayhaps I suggest you to do yourself a favor and leave?”

“Uh, no, I– I like it here,” you squeak out, flailing your arms in a meager attempt to show that you’re relaxed. “I’m relaxed! Yes! And…” A shy, sweet smile graces your lips when you avert your gaze from him. “I– I’m happy to be sharing the baths with my favorite professor…! I always wanted to get closer to you, so…”

The sentiment should be touching, really. But that pretty expression on his favorite students face rouses something else aside from his emotions.

As the conversation drifts back to silence, the sound of something heavy dropping ruins the peaceful atmosphere of the Okhema baths. Easily surprised as you are, you jolt up with a squeak, head frantically turning right to left as you try to find the disturbance. A sheepish sorry calls out from another bath down the hall and that makes you momentarily relax, until you turn around and—

“Oh my,” Anaxa coolly comments, doing nothing to hide the way his gaze snakes down from your chest down to the rest of your body. You let out a mortified cry as you quickly drop down to the floor, splashing the warm water all over your professor. You open your mouth as your mind scrambles to form out an apology, but Anaxagoras breaks your thoughts as he leans back with an amused look.

“As much as I hate to frequent Okhema, much less its baths, I may have to consider visiting regularly if all my baths put on a show as entertaining as yours,” he says, finally meeting your gaze for the first time since you entered that bath. “Did you come here seeking for extra credit from your professor?”

“No, no, no!” You frantically shake your head as you try to reestablish your good reputation and dignity. “I didn’t—! I walked here on accident! I didn’t, I wasn’t even— oh my Titans— professor, I’m not seeking anything. I– I can leave if you want!” 

He dodges the pillow you throw at him, laughing like a maniac. “Ahaha! Shoulda seen the look on your face!” “You’re a jerk!” You cry. You don’t know if this banter or genuine frustration is from you, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t care either way. He takes joy in your suffering, perhaps even pride when he’s the one to cause it. You’ve always known that, the little sadist. He’s propped himself on his elbow now, looking at you in anticipation. An eager cat always ready to play with prey. He laughs again when you glare at him tearfully.

“Relax~ How’re ya gonna get a good night’s sleep when you’re working yourself up this much?” He brings you to his side, gentle yet anticipatory, as if feeling like something good is gonna happen. “Doubt you ever had a decent wink in that rundown dorm of yours.”

Sleeping face-to-face with Ace is not something new for any of you. You’ve had plenty of sleepovers with him and Deuce, sometimes even the other first-years, but the comfort of Ramshackle and its ghosts kept you from overthinking things. You stifle your feelings and pout at him. “Like you didn’t sleep there whenever you and Riddle had a fight.”

He chuckles fondly, tracing your pouting lips with his finger. “Yeah, yeah. I’m grateful, so I’m paying back the favor, see? Got Riddle to say yes despite all his fuckin’ rules. Gave you a neat hoodie to sleep in since all your clothes are under that rubble now.”

The beating in your chest seems ever louder, even as his fingers pull away, the faintest warmth only lingering on your lips. “You just want to see me in your clothes, asshole.”

He grins. “Damn right I do, prefect. Might sell ‘em to Deuce, the poor pervert. Might keep them for myself. Who knows?”

DEUCE SPADE is on you the next day, Grim leaping out of his arms and grumbling about Deuce being too noisy to sleep with. He got the boot from Ace last night, and you’re a bit relieved to have a bit of familiarity back in your arms as he resumes his napping. “[Y. Name]! Oh Seven, are you okay? Did you get some sleep? What did that bastard do to you?” He whips his head to Ace, who’s ambling lazily behind you with a lazy stretch. “What the fuck did you do to them?”

Ace waves him off with a grin, walking off to the kitchen. “Nothing you wouldn’t do, hypocrite.”

The growl that Deuce lets out is outright guttural that you would have thought him a student of Savanaclaw, but he softens when he feels you flinch under him. “Sorry, [Y. Name], it’s just that… well, you know Ace.”

You laugh gently. Whereas Ace was a little sadist, Deuce was overprotective in ways that made you feel suffocated, but grateful nonetheless. It was nice to know that some friends were looking out for you rather than laughing at you. You ruffle his still-messy hair. “I know, I know. Nice to know the ADeuce combo is still chaotic even in the early mornings.” His face crumples a bit when you pull your hand away, but he guides you to the common dining hall for breakfast. 

Being the overeager gentleman that he is, Deuce prompts you to make yourself comfortable while he fetches your breakfast. Grim is still curled up on your lap, trying to catch a few missing Zs, and Ace is across the room fighting with the roommates he kicked out last night. You feel a bit of guilt, but not as much when Ace is in a verbal match with them. They’re probably using Riddle’s absence as an opportunity to scream their heads off at him— you hear them call him an opportunistic man who’s trying to get their crush in his pants. You cringe upon hearing that. He laughs and says ‘At least I’m getting some!’ and a fistfight ensues.

Your breakfast plate, an impressive feast of golden honey pancakes topped with maple syrup and strawberries, is set before you. But Deuce’s eyes are narrowed at the fistfight happening, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “What the hell is that idiot doing?” He grumbles, sitting before you. “Spreading these malicious rumors about you… I should knock some sense into all of them!”

“Don’t,” you softly admonish him. “It’s only a matter of time before either Trey or Riddle walks in and they all get beheaded. Might as well let them learn their lesson.” You flash him a grin. “But thanks. Always nice to see my lil delinquent ready to defend my honor.”

He flushes and nervously picks at his own platter. It’s more meat than dessert, and he’s playing with the peas. “It’s nothing. You just don’t deserve to be talked about like that. You’re too…” He trails off, blushing bright red at what he might say, and stops. You don’t push further and let yourself enjoy the comfortable silence between the two of you. In the corner of your eye, you watch Ace and the other roommates get dragged off by the collar by Trey and Cater’s clones.

“Peace and quiet at least,” Deuce sighs. He glances at you before chuckling into his palm. You knit your eyebrows at him. “You’re so… oh well, hold still.” His thumb brushes against the side of your lip (a rather odd recurring event at your stay here) and pulls back to reveal the syrup residue. He eyes it for a bit as if pondering his next course of action. Then, locking eyes with you, his tongue peeks out and licks it off his thumb. 

“Th– Deuce that’s…” Your voice catches in your throat. “That’s… dirty.”

“Dirty? You?” He hums softly, cocking his head to the side. Expression dazed and ditzy, he smiled like a boy partaking in something he's so long desired. “Never. But I… well, haha, sorry. Can’t really play normal around you for too long. But you knew that, right?”

stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): check this out you dumb fuck stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): [image attached] Deuce Spade took a screenshot. You (Deuce Spade): you!! what the fuck have you been doing with the prefect last night?! You (Deuce Spade): i’ll beat u to the fucking ground if i see even one fucking mark stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): haha stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): magichat tells y when you screenshot something u kno. stuupid. stupid hypoocriiite You (Deuce Spade): IT CAN?!?! stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): dun worry your lil brain bout it. stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): we besties rmember??? i aint doing squat without ya. hbu jack off to this as apologies stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): [image attached] Deuce Spade took a screenshot. stupid ginger (Ace Trappola): sooo fuckin easy ✌️✌️

As soon as you go back to Heartslabyul after another day of class, CATER DIAMOND whisks you away before Ace and Deuce can even say anything about it. He’s rambling about something or other, about how he’s so stoked to have you here and how much fun you’d have together. Sleepovers are the highlight of youth, after all! Cater might be in his third year, but he’s not so old as to relinquish all the fun to the freshies!

So he has you sitting still and pretty on his bed, your hair held back by a cloth headband and a nourishing face mask to prep you for the how-many-steps skincare routine that you’ll be doing for tonight. He has his own matching headband as well, and yes, he did take a selfie before posting it to the ‘net with the hashtags #twinning, #sleepover, and #cute. His dorm room is as loud and vibrant as he is, walls covered with posters of his favorite bands and shows, a table full of cosmetics, and the phone and ring light glaring at you.

You shift nervously. It’s like part two of Ace’s incessant photography from last night, but you know that with Cater it will always be twice as bad. Something to do with the desperation in his eyes every time he snaps a picture of only the two of you. Or maybe not. You can’t just assume.

Cater finally turns around, grinning lightheartedly as he brings over a pot of moisturizer. “Hey, hey~ Sorry for the wait. It was, like, reeeal hard to find this pot. I’ve been so messy these days.” He’s always been a bit messy, but taking a look at the desk, you have to agree that this is worse than most days. He sighs when he sees you glance at his table. “IDK… something weighing on my mind and… agh! Lookit me dragging the mood down! Cringe. Let’s take off your mask…”

He takes off the gel mask gingerly. Tonight, you see Cater in his rawest form. No makeup on, not even that little mandatory diamond he always wears, and just him in his pjs. He likes to play rough sometimes, especially if it means getting a reaction out of you, but right now he is gentle. Without the makeup, you can see the eyebags under his eyes that are usually hidden under concealer, and you can’t help but massage them away with your thumb. Green eyes stare back at you wide.

“Have you not been getting enough sleep?” You murmur. It’s glaringly obvious to you and to whoever bothers to look closely that he’s always been hiding underneath a mask, and your suspicions seem to be proven true. You feel him soften under your touch as you continue pressing gentle circles on his eyebags. “We’re in your room, Cater. You don’t have to pretend.”

He makes a face as he pulls away. Disgust, you assume when he laughs drily to himself. “Sometimes I can’t stand you,” he murmurs to himself, but the room is so silent that you can hear it as if he’s saying it into your ear. “You’re too stupidly perceptive, it's creepy. What’s up with that? You don’t even have magic.”

You huff out a laugh. “I don’t think anyone needs magic to have some basic empathy.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but twists the moisturizer cap open and starts to slather the cream on you. “Please. It’s Night Raven College. People don’t have empathy, aside from you and Kalim, anyway. But we know what the deal is with the two of you.” You don’t belong. “You act like some sorta therapist, then boom— you got yourself a horde of hormonal men at your doorstep who could kill you at a moment’s notice.” He pinches your cheek so hard that you yelp at the burn, and he pulls away smugly. “And it’s a~ll your fault.”

You rub your cheek and frown. It hurts. Like, no joking hurts, and Cater looks guiltless as he eyes the red mark. “You’re a doll, aren’t you?” He coos. “Nothing makes you special except for this adorable lil face. Why don’t you just stick with Cay-Cay and let him make you special? I’m sure my sisters would like a sweet thing like you.”

“You’re a dick,” you grumble. He laughs out loud, not even trying to deny the claim, and he throws a peace sign to the camera. “What’s that for? You’re not livestreaming, are you?”

“‘Course not!” Cater laughs, switching back to his usual preppy self. He reaches over and stops the recording, checking the video with small appreciative hums. “Can’t let my peeps know that their Cay-Cay is a sick, sick man who gets off hurting their cute junior! One more selfie, please?”

He tilts the camera towards both of you. Within the frame, Cater’s grinning face and your frowning, bruised one are obviously filtered to hell as he takes the shot.

“Looks like Cater got to you, huh?” TREY CLOVER laughs, handing you an ice pack. It’s later in the night, and Cater’s decided he isn't in the mood to have you in his bed for the night. Shame, Trey had said to him. I know men who’d kill for this. Cater had only stuck out his tongue and waved you off before retreating to his chambers. You hiss when you press the pack against your face. Moonlight silhouetting his figure like an ominous foretelling, Trey leans on the island as he inspects you.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, brushing the messy strands away from your face. “You got your dorm ruined, forced to move into Heartslabyul of all places, and you get bullied by our members two days in a row. Must be tough for you, huh?”

You want to pout. Maybe complain. Cry a little bit. In the first few weeks that you’d known Trey, maybe you would have. You had always mistaken him for an exasperated elder brother type, exhausted by the dorm members’ antics but laid back enough to go along with it. But you know better than to vent to Trey of all people, not when he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he watches you shed tears. 

“Not gonna work on me, devil,” you mutter. He laughs again and holds two hands in surrender, caught red-handed trying to make you rely on him. You eye him warily. “I’m sleeping with you tonight?”

“Oh, don’t word it like that, pet. The walls have ears.” You flush at the innuendo. “But hey, if you’re okay with that, then by all means go ahead.” 

You sigh deeply. First Ace, then Trey. Where the hell was the housewarden when you needed him? Someone needed to keep these crazies in line. Trey, for the most part, was far more responsible than any of the other members. But he hasn’t bothered to be decent around you for a long time now. Always quipping subtle lewd jokes when you least expect it, hovering his hand on your hips as he guides you through a recipe… Riddle’s mentioned it once, calling it a display of indecency. Trey had brushed it off and teased that you liked it that way. You don’t know. Riddle hasn’t brought it up ever again.

Lost in thought, you barely register Trey’s fingers prying your mouth open until he’s peering into the recesses of your mouth. This guy and his mouth fetish. You try to squirm away from him, but his steady hand on your shoulder tightens, and you still. “Steady now,” he murmurs. “Ate chocolate, didn’t you?” You can’t nod like this, but something in your eyes probably gives the answer away. He chuckles. “Yeah, thought so. Cater bought those chocolates for your sleepover. To think he was so excited for this as well. Doesn’t really strike you as the moody type, huh?”

He cocks a grin at you. “C’mon, brush your teeth. I got some extra spare ones.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t want you staring.”

“Every man has his interests. You really think you can stop me?”

Being vice housewarden, Trey has the privilege of having his own dorm and bath, and now you’re alone with him in the latter. He’s the only thing blocking you from escaping out the door, leaning on it with arms crossed and the grin of a man who’s gotten what he wants. You make a face at him and turn to the sink. His reflection in the mirror continues to watch.

“Scrub more gently, why’re you rushing? Too eager to get out?” You heard it from Ace and Deuce, but you didn’t think that his being this naggy about brushing was real. “You’re neglecting the upper teeth.” Seriously. You didn’t think anyone was this naggy about brushing. “Scrape off the plaque from your tongue. Don’t wanna wake up with bad breath, do you?” You thought his family runs a patisserie? Not a dentist clinic?

You turn to him, features contorted in annoyance as you bare your mouth to him as proof, then clamp it shut again. “Here. Done. Now, can we sleep?”

“Mm, not yet. Open it again.”

You make a face at him, but sigh and relent. You know he’s gonna pry it open one way or another, magic or not. No use trying to argue against a man with magic and muscles bigger than yours. You open your mouth again— “Mpfh?!”

Trey’s two fingers invite themselves into your mouth, poking and prodding at your teeth as if they ought to be there. They’re gliding across molars, pulling against the inside of your cheek to get a proper see… It’s all uncomfortable. You shake your head and grab onto his wrist to try and pull him away, but his hold on you grows more painful as he levels you with a stern stare. “Always squirming, this dormouse. Stay still and excuse this senior’s… habits. Siblings back home, and all that.” He’s not even bothering to put any effort into his excuses. He presses down on your tongue.

“Mpphf mmh mpf!?”

“Just… a lil bit more. Can’t risk cavities.” He smirks at you, his handsome face taking on that sadistic expression that’s ever so common in this college’s students. “It’s okay if you’re scared. Really. More than okay.”

You’re beyond exhausted. You’ve always thought that Heartslabyul was the most normal of the dorms, but perhaps you’d hand that over to Pomefiore. One crazy (Rook) can’t possibly outcrazy four crazies. Especially not when you’ve had to suffer from them two days in a row.

But you’ve never been so happy to see that gorgeous shade of red hair until now.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS sits at his room’s tea table, enjoying himself with some warm lemon tea. His strict expression softens when he sees you enter through the doors, possibly due to your distraught state. Ever since the overblot, he’s loosened up and allowed himself to be vulnerable, especially around you. Riddle’s fond of looking after your quartet of misfits, but even the others admit that he favors you more than them. You’ve always chalked it up to you not getting yourself into trouble like the others do.

“Riddle!” It’s a bit pathetic, how needy you sound. But with the few days of being tossed around like clothes in the dryer, you’re willing to take any sense of order, no matter how extreme it may be. You don’t notice how Riddle’s smile twitches into self-satisfaction before he smooths it down. He gestures to the seat across him, and you take it. He pours you tea, the scent of warm lemon warming your senses.

“Apologies for not being able to properly welcome you these past few days,” he starts, leaning back on his seat. “It’s been quite a busy week for us housewardens, with the new event just around the corner. But things have settled, and I was really hung up on the fact that I couldn’t greet you properly.” He scowls, setting down his teacup as he remembers something. “Or my house members, for that matter. I’ve heard of the upheaval your presence has brought on these past few days.”

You shrink into your seat, shame coloring your face. “I’m sorry… after asking you for shelter as well.”

Riddle waves off your worry. “Oh no, don’t trouble yourself. As far as I know, you haven’t done anything. Goodness, Cater and Ace are throwing out their roommates! And just when we have a spare room as well. Although I do understand their worries, that room hasn’t been cleaned out for a while…” He fails to mention that their opportunistic ways of gaining privacy with you. “Ah. Well. There is always mine and Trey’s room.” He watches you shift uncomfortably and smiles understandingly. “Apologies. Trey hasn’t exactly relayed what happened last night to me, but I can imagine. And well, it wouldn’t be proper for us to be sleeping together.” You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, some damn common sense in this house. Now you know why Riddle is such an excellent housewarden. You tell yourself never to doubt—

“Not when we aren’t married yet.”

You catch the teacup before it can spill anything. Riddle continues sipping in front of you. He cocks his head when he catches you gaping and you shake yourself out of it. Misheard, misheard… joking?

“I brought you up to mother, of course, she was rather outraged that I harbor feelings for a magickless, but…” He laughs awkwardly, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. “I convinced her that you very much mirrored her, just not in… magical prowess or… um, fierceness. Your softness and ability to care for others are captivating, and she still isn’t convinced, but— well, she does have some sort of intrigue. I was hoping to bring you to her at the next break, and… [Y. Name]? You look unwell.”

Softness? Ability to care for others? Your qualities as a doormat seem to have been exaggerated and worse of all, placed on a narcissistic mother who couldn't care less about anything other than her trophy son succeeding. And worst of all, marriage talks? You put down your teacup, fingers shaking from the tumultuous feelings stirring within you. Dread, maybe. Riddle looks at you from across the table, staring at you worriedly with those adorable grey eyes, as if he hasn’t said anything concerning.

“You… want to get married?” You choke out, laughing like you can’t believe it. You shakily point to yourself. “To me? The one who’s going to leave Twisted Wonderland?”

Riddle furrows his brows. “Who says you’re leaving Twisted Wonderland?”

You laugh again in disbelief. “Me! The headmaster! As soon as he finds a way—”

“I don’t think so, not really,” he hums. “It’s obvious he’s delaying, or that there really isn’t a way out. And even if there was, I doubt the numerous people attached to you would allow that.” He looks out the window, perhaps thinking of the number of mages who are so eager to prey on you and your affections. “I, for one, wouldn’t allow that. Ah, don’t look so down, my family is well-off and I will work; I will provide you with everything you desire.” His hands, smaller and softer than yours, squeeze yours gently. “I promise.”

You feel sick.

“You will be a great partner. I know my mother’s extremities far too well, but I’m sure once I find myself a solid position in the government, she will be far too content to say anything about our marriage. All you have to do is be who you are now.” Riddle shyly smiles to himself. “Sweet, caring, docile… motherly.”

Sevens, you feel so fucking sick.

You hold up two fingers in his face. “If I do anything, you’ll either: one, amuse yourself by forcing me to do more through violent means and force.” You put down one finger. “Or two, you’ll squeeze the shit out of me till I lay here dead.” You put down your hand entirely. “Well, tough luck. I don’t like any outcome, so I’m gonna stay still until you get fed and either leave me alone or maul me.”

The lanky eel, kneeling at the side of his bed, pouts as he lays his cheek beside your face. “That’s no fun~ Am I that predictable?”

Predictable in the way that Floyd will always do something disastrous, no matter what happens. Unpredictable in the way that you never know what he’ll end up doing. You flip your head to the side, sulky mismatched eyes and a handsome face just inches away from you… And you sigh. God, these evil suckers just had to be handsome. You pinch his cheek and sit up. “Don’t worry,” you say, drily. “I never know what’s going on in that head of yours. Never did, never will.”

Floyd’s face brightens up, moods as ever-changing as the ocean waters. “Aww, ya flatter me, shrimpy!” He grins as he tackles you to his bed. Ack. You feel like he dug something into your ribs. “Me, I liiike always knowing what’s on your mind. Your face is so cute and expressive! Like when your eyes keep shaking whenever you’re scared, or that stupid-looking smile when you try to lie, or the way your mouth gapes whenever you’re tired! I could stare at you for hours!”

What the… Oh, whatever. “No commentary on the way I smile when happy or something?” You don’t even know why you care anymore.

Floyd stares at you as if you just asked something foreign. “Well, I think your smile’s stupid. Stupid and cute. But—” His mouth slits into a smile of razor-sharp teeth. “I think you’re squishiest when you’re shakin’ in your boots, yeah?”

Staring into a mouth full of teeth that could chomp your flesh off, you gulp down a whimper. Floyd’s grin stretches even more. “Yeah, yeah, like that! I like the way ya try to be a~ll strong and brave when everyone knows how scared ya are. Like how your throat bobs cuz ya got a scream stuck there or something.” His cold, cold hands— gentle at first, then an inescapable pressure as his thumb digs into your throat— clamp themselves around you. His eyes widen as he watches you scramble to pull his hands off you and laughs maniacally. “Yes, like that! Ah~ I don’t get it! How’s someone so pathetic this adorable to look at!”

His expression drops into downright threatening. “It’s fucking annoying.”

Shit, his choke has you seeing stars already. “F–Floyd,” you gasp out, scratching at his arms futilely. “Stop this— I— Kkgh— It isn’t funn—!”

“I’ll tell ya what isn’t funny!” His voice is screeching, eyes looking down at you in… hatred? Glee? Annoyance? Obsession? Fuck, you just want his hands off you. “Who the hell do you think you are, running around in my head like that? Little magicless shrimpy who’s got nothing but a cute face on ‘em! Smilin’ at me like that… makin’ friends with Azul and Jade like it’s sooo easy! You’re makin’ em boring!” He bares his teeth at you. “You’re controlling me!”

How the fuck was that your problem?! You feel your strength failing you. You can’t breathe. Darkness was clouding your vision. You were really gonna fucking die here. You want to go home. You want to go home. You want to go—

He lets go, and you take in a frantic breath as he sits back with an amused expression. “Haha, you’re cute when you’re all gasping like that.”

You glare at him, but you feel that it comes off weakly. Your mind is dazed after being deprived of oxygen, and you feel faint. He laughs even more, a cross between amusement and being… genuine.

“Seven,” he whispers, staring at you like a treasure found on the sea floor. “I really do like starin’ at ya.”

If JADE LEECH had anything to say about the purpling bruises on your neck, he didn’t say it. Rather, he opted to smile at you with his usual slimy grin and poured you a cup of morning coffee, playing the part of the attentive gentleman. His brute of a brother walked right behind you, yawning and sporting a grumpy frown and disheveled hair. 

“Did you have a good night’s rest?” Jade asks, sitting across from you on one of Octavinelle’s dining tables. He’s already dressed in his school uniform despite it being too early in the morning. Ugh. You return his smile, passive-aggressive and barely holding back ire. You’re wearing one of Floyd’s tanks, so you know he can see it. He chuckles, sharp teeth glinting as he lifts his cup of coffee. “Well, apologies for my brother. You know how he is sometimes.”

This isn’t something to just apologize for, you think, but rather a lawsuit and a restraining order. But you doubt any lawyer would be willing to represent you, the magicless alien with not even a single official document on them. You decide to grace his remark with a scoff into your coffee cup. 

“Now, now, let’s not be like this,” Jade pouts. He feigns sadness as he regards your surly demeanor. “We are friends, aren’t we? You know it hurts me to see you be so cold to me.” You level him with an unimpressed stare, and he raises both hands as if to show innocence. “It’s true! Please look back on the times we had together. Saving Azul… breaking you out of Scarabia… defeating Jamil… Why, I thought we were best friends!”

You have to admit, it’s a bit humorous to see Jade act so pitifully, even though you weren’t falling for it. You crack an amused smile, leaning back on your chair as you take another sip. “Mm, yes. Making a deal to release 300 students from slavery… kicking me out of Ramshackle… nearly drowning me on multiple occasions…”

Jade gives up the act, returning to his intimidating smile when he knows you’re not falling for the act. “Why, they say you’re not truly friends if you don’t tease each other.” You snort again.

The two of you fall into a… not-so-comfortable silence. Not-so-comfortable in the way that he’s been staring intensely at the welt around your neck. After a few uneasy minutes, he stands up and walks away. He returns with a salve pot in his hands. “May I?” He asks, fingers already flitting across your neck. His touch is as ice-cold as his brother’s— probably thanks to their cold-blooded biology— and makes you shudder all the same. You offer a meek nod and bare your neck to him.

Jade’s smile stretches as you place yourself in the most vulnerable position possible.

He rubs the salve on your bruises, gentle and tender, all while thinking how you’re still the naive fool you were from the start of the year. By now, you should know not to show too much weakness to them, to him. Yet here you are, offering up your neck like he wasn’t capable of digging into that warm flesh and watching the light leave your eyes without remorse. Two fingers press against the pulse on your neck— one, two, one, two. A sign that you were alive and warm. You crane your neck to frown at him. He chuckles and backs down from the knowing glint in your glare.

“If Floyd bothers you that much, you can always sleep over mine tonight,” he coos. “I imagine it’d be a more comfortable rest. Perhaps more comfortable than that… Heartslabyul vice-leader.” “Trey?” Jade hears the self-mocking in your voice. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Why, didn’t you know? Your sleepovers are the hottest scandals of Night Raven College right now!” He pleasures in the way your ears burn. If he’d nibble on that soft shell, would it be weak enough to break and bleed? “That man… couldn’t stop smiling when I chanced upon him in the greenhouse and pressed him for details. Irritating smile, that one, but I confess it had made me a tad curious as to what exactly transpired.”

He bends his face to grin down at you. “Would you care to reenact the details of that night?”

“W– We did nothing!” You yelp, pushing away that mischievous face. “Just slept in the same bed, that’s all!”

“Hmm, are you sure that’s everything?” Jade hums, circling you to face him. He tidies your hair, untangling the morning knots here and there while observing your face. “He did slip something about your soft, warm tongue… pressed against his fingers… opening up prettily for him…”

Jade’s glee heightens when your blush deepens even further. There was no need for him to use his unique magic to deduce that this was the truth. “He told you that?!”

“Nope!” He laughs a bit when he hears your frustrated groan, tricked and betrayed. “I was merely guessing what that pervert might have done to you. No need to fear, dear. Should you sleep with me tonight, you would not suffer like that?”

You stare at him incredulously. “Really?” Sevens, you really know him, don’t you?

“Of course not.” He twirls a strand of your hair around a finger, kissing it gently and peering down at you. You swear that his one golden eye shines under the fluorescent lighting. “Unlike him, my perversions lie somewhere… bloodier.”

Like hell you were gonna sleep with Jade after that! … Is what you told yourself. Unfortunately, being the target of a Leech sibling’s affection means there is no way to squeeze yourself out of that situation. AZUL ASHENGROTTO seems to know that much, because even with the huge scowl on his face as he observes your bruised neck and the bite marks on your collar, he can’t seem to blame you. He’s cooking up a healing potion that could at least lessen the severity of these ugly marks. You had joked about never being able to pay back that potion, and he sighed and said it would be on the house… after all, it was his members’ fault.

“What a surprise,” you laugh as he offers the potion to you. Azul looks absolutely distraught by your mangled neck. “Didn’t think I’d get something for free from you.”

The octo merman huffs at you. “I’ve given you lots of things over the months, haven’t I?!”

It’s been a while since the two of you were alone together, but you remember how fun it is to tease him. Outside, Azul could be pompous and condescending— he has an image to retain. But now alone in his bedroom, it seems that Azul has decided to forgo the facade and be his normal, pouty self. “Honestly,” he sighs, willing the used cauldron and other supplies to fly out of the room. “I do a lot of things for you that I wouldn’t do for anyone else, don’t I? And for free too!” You squint at him. “Most of the time.” You squint harder, and he throws his hands in the air. “Sometimes! Sometimes is already too much— I’m enterprising here!”

You smirk and chug the potion down. Slightly sweet and bubbly, not unlike a soda. “Thanks so much, dorm leader,” you coo. “To be on the receiving end of the Octavinelle head’s generosity, you truly embody the illustrious Sea Witch’s benevolence.” He takes the bottle away from you, miffed, but you smile at the red coloring on his ear tips. What a cutie.

He sighs. “Jade and Floyd… They’ve always been violent, but something about you makes it worse. Floyd’s strangled a few people here and there, yes… But Jade’s always managed to hold himself back.” He brushes a careful finger over your wounds and sighs when you wince. “Sevens, they outright mangled you. The potion will take effect in a few minutes, don’t worry.”

“I get that it’s in their biology to be violent, but really! Making trouble for me…” He continues to rant. A scheming smile spreads across his face. “Why, if you insist on pressing charges, I’d be happy to write up a contract for you. Nothing too charging, of course! Though the same can’t be said for them once we present our — ahem, your clauses.”

“No one’s pressing anything, Azul,” you laugh, resting your cheek on your hand while Azul paces his room. “It’s, well, it’s not nothing… but I’d rather not get myself into any more trouble. If the rumors are true, then I’d rather not have any conflict with the Leech family.”

“Hmph, too kind!” He turns around and wags a finger in your face. “This is why it’s so easy to take advantage of you. Even things like this, you’re willing to let go! Have you not learned a single thing during your time here in NRC? You’re lucky that you have me to cover up for you!”

“Yes, yes,” you hum. “Ve~ry lucky.”

Azul smiles— less pompous and more satisfied— and straightens his back. Heh. “Exactly! After all, I am benevolent. Worry not, your rest with me will be the most peaceful you’ve had in days!”

He can hardly believe his luck. Wait, no, this isn’t luck. Everything good that has happened to Azul’s life is because he worked hard for it, and Sevens, did he work for this. You, vulnerable in your state of sleep, sprawled across his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. From the state of your eyebags, he guessed that you haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep with either Floyd or Jade, but with him… Heh, the twins might not view it that way, but this was a win for Azul.

Gently as not to stir you, Azul reaches out and brushes his hand against your cheek. It’s warm, like rays of sun on his cold skin. As soon as he saw you in that fateful entrance ceremony, he thought you really weren’t NRC material. When you sidled up to him in the underwater museum and had a conversation about his past, like he didn’t try to kill you and your friends, he knew you weren’t made for this school. Not when you were too good for him. Not when you stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, gazing at that horrid field trip picture and granting an unjudging ear to his monologue.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Aaah… No one deserves you. Not me, not anyone. But aaah…” He cozies up in the crook of your neck, relishing in that soft warmth. “The things I would do to keep you down in the waters with me. I’d do anything for you, buy anything for you… just to be mine and mine alone.”

“Mine, be mine…” His begging comes off in short whines, pleading to your unconscious body. “I couldn’t bear it… to see you frolicking around with some idiot that isn’t me…”

Something slithers around your leg, sticking to it like a parasite on an easy prey. It suckles softly, while its owner cradles you with his many legs as he relishes in his most prized treasure’s body. You shift a bit, eyes furrowing as if your unconscious mind was telling you that something was off. Sleep wasn’t supposed to carry the weight of another person, and rest should not be disturbed by tentacles gently suckling on your skin.

Azul wonders what would happen if you’d wake— not that you would, he made sure of that. He wonders if your eyes would widen, heart stuck in your throat, face frozen in that fearful expression that the twins love to praise. His heart drops. No, he’d rather see you gently smile at him. He’d rather you return his myriad of desperate kisses and stroke his hair, call him pretty despite all the insecurities.

He brushes his lips against yours— not quite a kiss, but enough to make him crave more. You truly make him pathetic.

Floyd Leech changed Azul Ashengrotto’s nickname to ILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOU

ILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOU (Azul Ashengrotto): Heh. Now what could have possibly caused this tantrum now?

fuck ur mushrooms (Jade Leech): Now, now, Azul. As your closest friends, it’s not nice to play dumb around us. 

ILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOU (Azul Ashengrotto): Ugh. It’s weird when you say that. And I don’t like your tone.

You (Floyd Leech): WHAT DID U DO TO MY BRUISES ON SHRIMPY. WHERE ARE THEY.

fuck ur mushrooms (Jade Leech): It has also occurred to me that my bite marks are gone. What a shame… The mementos of our beautiful night together gone because of a scheming octopus.

You (Floyd Leech): IM GONNA FGUCKING STUFF YOU IN UR OCTO POT U STUPID OCTO AND ILL STUFF U FULL OF UR STUPID POTIONS TILL U TURN BACK ROUND AND NICE TO EAT THEN TURN U INTO TAKOYAKI AND FEED U TO SHRIMPY

fuck ur mushrooms (Jade Leech): Floyd, please. Let us not feed this stupid octopus to our pitiful prefect.

ILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOU (Azul Ashengrotto): … I don’t appreciate the comments on my body.

fuck ur mushrooms (Jade Leech): Mm. Pity. Floyd and I are looking over octopus recipes. Personally, I’d prefer to place you on a sushi platter.

fuck ur mushrooms (Jade Leech): Perhaps we will start off by cutting those insipid tentacles of yours. For erasing our marks and placing your own.

You (Floyd Leech): it was kinda hot tho

You (Floyd Leech): back of the thigh. erotic doncha think

ILLKILLYOUILLKILLYOU (Azul Ashengrotto): Why, then you’ll be pleased to see the marks on their back, Floyd.

Jack shares a room with others, but Ruggie’s shovelled them to some other room so that territorial instincts don’t scare you out of your wits. Looking around… It’s Savanaclaw, alright. Ripe with the scent of testosterone and training equipment scattered across the room. Jack’s shelf is full of cacti, protein powder jugs, textbooks, and a picture of his family. You send him a grin when you catch that.

“Family-oriented, huh?” You coo, picking up the frame as he towels your ends. You let out an aww when you notice that the whole pack shares his fluffy ears and tail, just in varying shades of gray. You tap the face of a handsome mountain man. “Guess I know where you got your looks from.”

Jack splutters behind you, flustered yet refusing to comment. “Don’t know what you want with all this flattery.”

“... The answers to Crewel’s homework.”

He does something halfway between a grunt and a laugh, the rare smile reflected in the mirror as he gives your hair a final pat. Jack must not be aware that a normal human’s follicles aren’t thick enough to stand his rough toweling, with the way your hairs look aired out. “Can’t get anything out of me. I’m still trying to figure out the alchemical compositions.” You pout, but relent.

There’s a certain aura of domesticity as Jack guides you to your— well, his bed. Grim has opted not to sleep with you, something about the stink of multiple beastmen putting him off. You plop on the mattress face-first and make yourself comfortable rolling around. You fail to see Jack’s shoulder stiffen and his tail straighten when you do so. “Smells nice,” you smile as you prop yourself up to look at Jack below. “Did you pull out some fresh sheets? Thank you.”

Jack gives you one of his half-smiles, those charming and boyish ones that you wouldn’t expect from a beastman as gruff as he was. “I brought you here, didn’t I? It’s common sense.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Your eyes sparkle with that mischievous shine that Jack’s taken an awful liking to. “Pretty sure Ace had sugar on his bed.”

Jack scowls, and you follow his stiff tail thumping slowly on his mattress. “Hmph. Ace could do anything he puts his mind to, but all he wants to do is act sloppy and undisciplined.”

“Yes, yes~” Some Heartslabyul slander was welcome after that hellhole of a week you went through. You reach out to stroke his ears, lowered for you to scratch behind. Both of you were close enough for this to be normal. “Ace and the rest of ‘em are assholes. I’m happy you took me away, Jack.”

An… unexplainable shadow crosses Jack’s eyes, and even the happy waving of his tail had slowed. A cross between two emotions that you could not quite grasp, tugging back and forth before he shakes himself out of it. “It’s no problem. You…” Though you’re affectionate with him, Jack does not make it a habit to initiate contact with you. You know very well how hesitant he is, with how easily you fold under both magic and brawn. So when he lifts his hands to your face, hovering as he considers how to touch you, the warmth of his calloused palm is a nice surprise.

“You just don’t deserve the way they treat you, is all.” His hands cover your eyes, prompting you to close them. Hiding the expression he makes from you. “You’re not supposed to be here. You have to be protected. It’s only right.”

Are you imagining the warmth that hovers just above your nape? Maybe so, because as soon as Jack lifts his hands, he’s turning away from you and switching the lights off.

RUGGIE BUCCHI’s eyes narrow as soon as you and Jack enter the room, sniffing the air as if something about you two has deeply offended his sensitive nostrils. “Ugh, get a load of that. You smell.” You jolt back and try to smell yourself, frowning when you don’t smell anything. He snorts. “Not you. Well, you. But, like, something else.” Ruggie’s discerning eye slowly moves to his junior, who is opting not to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Or someone.”

Your frown only grows deeper. “What do you mean? Should I wash it off?”

The hyena grins, eyes still on Jack as he busies himself making his morning protein shake. “Oh, you could, but someone might get sad.” He snickers to himself. “Ah, well. If you ain’t planning on washin’ that off, help me whip up some breakfast. Least you could do after sleeping over ours, yeah?” He laughs again when he sees the crestfallen expression you’ve begun sporting. Face barely inches away from each other, his hands pinch both cheeks, and he steps away before it could actually hurt. “C’mon, I was just joking~ You’re welcome anytime in Savanaclaw, if His Majesty upstairs got anything to say about it.”

Well, that was nice to hear. Your spirits now lifted, you follow Ruggie into the kitchen where he’s busy prepping breakfast. “Just an omelette today,” he hums. “But Leona likes his in a specific way. Psh, specific way.” He rolls his eyes. “Better to just eat it anyway and not feel your stomach rumble for the rest of the day, but who are we to disobey princes, right?” He gives you some potatoes and carrots. “Peel these for me?”

You eagerly comply. In these wee hours, you and Ruggie stand side by side chopping and prepping meals. Sometimes one of you makes idle chatter to fill in the silence, but there is still comfort even when no one talks. It was nice, you thought. You and Ruggie hung out often enough to be familiar with each other, and though it wasn’t on the same level as you had with Ace and Deuce, there was no need to keep up any pretenses around Ruggie.

“What’re ya thinkin’ about?” The hyena’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. He eyes your idle hands and then your spaced-out look. You shake your head and place the diced vegetables into a bowl. 

“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking how nice you are to be around.” At that, his tail and ears immediately stiffened up. But you fail to notice that as you affectionately rub the back of his ears like you always do. You do notice how aggressively he starts beating the eggs and give him a curious glance. His face is angled away from you, but his bristled tail flicks now and then.

“What’s gotten into ya?” He huffs, turning over the meat while he beats the eggs. “Getting all sappy and stuff… What, cooking breakfast together got you sentimental?”

Right. NRC students don’t take kindly to affection, do they? Especially the prideful Savanaclaws. “Sorry, was I overstepping? I thought it was just nice that we didn’t have to force conversation… stuff like that.” You snicker when his tail and ears bristle again. “Too much?”

“Get outta here,” he grumbles. He takes the meat out and pours the beaten eggs into the pan. “Saying cheesy stuff like that… You’re gonna make a man get the wrong impression. Not saying that I’m getting the wrong impression, mind you. But—” He jabs the whisk in your direction and gives you a warning glare. “Night Raven’s full of fucked up people. One of these days, you’re gonna be so cheesy that they’ll think you actually like like them!”

Your smile falters a bit when he turns his attention again to the omelette. “Right…” You know that as well, with how Heartslabyul acted around you when you slept over. Before that, you were eager to dismiss their teasing or advances as jokes. After all, they were the very first dorm that you befriended and, therefore somehow more special to you than the others. But now you’re wondering if you gave your affections too easily, to the point that they’d be delusional enough to think of marrying you… “I– I guess I have to think about that, huh. Someone tried to— well, someone’s trying to marry me. They’re planning talks with their parents and— ah, it’s all just so awkward. I didn’t even know they like liked me so…”

“Who.”

“Hm?” You startle at the sudden dip of his voice. His tail is upright as he continues frying the omelette. “Oh, who? I– I don’t wanna give it away… It’s not a nice look, I don’t think.”

“Too kind,” he scoffs, turning to you. You pull out a platter for him to put the omelette on— light and springy, with meat wrapped in the middle. “I don’t get why you’re looking out for this creep. Why you put up with the rest of us, anyway.” The latter part doesn’t seem to quite reach your ears, but he’s all up in your face again before you can even ask. “Sevens know why the Dark Mirror put you here. You’re a wimp and a pushover. Someone like you—” He taps the middle of your forehead. “Should be in Royal Sword Academy, where you brush animals and sing pretty songs with the rest of ‘em. But unlucky you, huh?”

He gives you a sardonic smile. “Buncha creeps following you around, and you still smile at them like they deserve it.”

“It’s better than being… rude,” you frown. “I can’t… I just couldn’t.”

He shrugs. “Pushover, what did I say? In the streets, they’d maim you and sell you ten times over. You’d be like a living money cheat, yanno?”

“But these aren’t the streets.”

His expression is downright gleeful. “Yeah, just worse.” 

He laughs when you reel away, watching you with those predator eyes as you grow more uneasy. “Oh, relax. I’m just kidding again. My point is, ya shouldn’t be putting up with horrendous behavior. That’s not how a real mate should act.” He pulls out another plate and sets another serving of omelette. “They should bow their heads, make ya feel loved, cook ya meals… all that sappy shit.” He places down the omelette before you, still warm, and smiles at you gently… as gently as one can when they look like they’re having the time of their life tormenting you.

“Sit. You’re not gonna turn down poor me’s cooking, are ya?”

You were right. Savanaclaw was just another form of prison. Ruggie seems to be playing coy around you, and you’re quite sure that your missing blazer is all due to him. You’re sure of it, with the way he smiles too innocently when you confront him about it. Jack, you had some hopes for. But then you walked into a bloodbath he was responsible for as he taught a lesson to the men making crass jokes about you. You had run away before he could see you, the image of blood dripping from his knuckles never leaving you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR caught you by the scruff as you ran and dragged you into his room to be used as a living body pillow. Now, your prime concern was squirming out of the tight grasp that the lazy lion has on you. At another failed attempt to wiggle out of his grasp, Leona pries one eye open with a low growl. “What the hell are you squirming for, herbivore?” He yawns, tail languidly waving back and forth as he looks at you. “Can’t get a good nap if you keep moving around like that.”

You huff and crane your head to glare at him. “Let–! Ugh, let go! I’ve got places to be!”

He snorts, but loosens his grasp on you. “Places? Like what? Back in that bloodbath?”

“Away!” You exclaim, exasperated. “Away from this den of—!”

“Beasts?” He smirks at you, propping himself on one hand as he eyes you like prey. “Careful of what you say. The leader of these beasts is right in front of you. You should be grateful, you know. Lots of hormones raging out there, and this is the one place that those fools wouldn’t dare intrude on. Ruler’s territory and all that.” You watch him warily as he muses to himself. “They know they’re as  good as sand the moment they walk in here.”

“Nice to know your leadership skills come in handy when protecting your bedroom,” you snort, eyes narrowed at him. “Why don’t you use them to, I don’t know, break up the fight outside?”

He raises a brow at you, as if the suggestion was just downright ridiculous. “You’re odd. You know, the whole reason Jack’s bloodying his knuckles is for you. You should be thanking him.” He shakes his head. “Poor pup. Here he is being all chivalrous only to find out that his crush is being ungrateful.”

Crush?! You shake it off. You shouldn’t be surprised. If you were a tad more narcissistic, you’d be using all these stupid sorcerers as a one-way ticket to richness. “So? Gonna break them up?”

Leona snorts and plops back down between his pillows. “Hell no. Too much effort. Just stay here till the mess dies down.” When he feels you unmoving, he looks at you and the deep frown that has settled on your face, and sighs. “Seriously, I don’t get it. Why the hell do you care so much? It’s Jack’s choice if he wants to do stupid shit, and it’s certainly no concern of yours if someone breaks a nose or a rib ‘cause they were going around calling you a whore. If anything, they probably deserve it.”

“It’s because I don’t like anyone breaking a rib or a nose or whatever over some stupid comment! Maybe if they, like, actually tried to do something to me, but…!” You shake your head, feeling less and less in control of your emotions and thoughts. “I just…! It doesn’t feel right, is what you want to say, not when Jack was smiling as he beat those boys up more than needed to.

“Look at you, thinking too much over nothing.” He is sporting that same lazy grin, the one he wears when he ropes you into schemes that you can’t get out of. “Just be grateful that people are looking out for ya, even if there are too many of them. Just sit here, lie down with me, and don’t move too much. Then we can get a pretty decent nap and erase all those useless thoughts. The moment you step foot out of my territory, you’re either getting mauled by one of those weaklings or pounced on by the pup. Your choice.”

What a…! But he’s right. The crowd outside was too aggravated not to do anything to you, the reason behind their beating. Leona’s smug smile as you crawl into bed next to him is apparent as he tugs your leg closer to him, making you yelp in surprise. “You!” You gasp, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Don’t you think you’re being too close?!”

“It’s nothing you ain’t used to,” he yawns. “You sleep like this with that idiot duo, don’t you?”

You gawp at him. “How do you–! No, it’s just… different!”

He raises a brow at you. “Different, how?” When you fail and stumble over your words, he laughs snarkily. “Ah, I get it. It’s different when you’re sleeping with foolish boys. But I guess lying with a lion has you all flustered, then?” With a blush that grows redder by the second, you try to refute his words, only to stutter. “I’m flattered, herbivore. One little comment or a little skinship, and you show me that pretty lil blush.”

“Pity you show yourself so easily,” he hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Otherwise, I’d have whisked you away already.”

“Not you too…” You whimper. He doesn’t seem surprised, only growing more amused when you squirm uncomfortably under his fingertips.

“Oh, yes, me too. Baffling, isn’t it? One magicless herbivore, and you have men begging for you to look at them. It needs to be studied.” His fingers tickle as they graze down the side of your face. “Personally, I don’t want to work for many things, but look at you messing up my whole work ethic. Audacious of you, really. You’ve got no~o idea how much effort I put into making sure you don’t get marked by one of these horndogs, you know?”

You squeak when he brushes against your nape. The predatory look on his face is not lost on you as he wets his lips. “Not gonna fight back?” His lips curve hungrily. “I’m surprised.”

“What am I gonna do?” You whimper. “Jump out the window? Get mauled?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, with how easily you throw yourself into danger.” He brings his lips closer to your nape, chuckling lowly when his fangs barely graze over it. “You smell delicious for a herbivore, but I already knew that.”

“Weirdo…!”

“The audacity to call a prince that,” he says, but there’s no real heat behind it as he relishes in your scent. “You don’t have to tremble so much. You might not have a title, but you’ll live like royalty in Sunset Savanna. Doesn’t sound bad, does it? You sit pretty, and I’ll give ya everything you desire. From the physical—” He tugs on the back of your shirt. “—To the more, hm.. physical.” You shiver when his whisper brushes against the shell of your ear, grinning as your eyes widen in embarrassment. “Not a bad deal?”

You glare at him. “As if.”

“Hm.” He scrutinizes you for a bit. Then, with a newfound conviction, his fangs dig into your nape, ready to mark you as his. You squeeze your eyes to prepare yourself for the pain… till his tongue, sandy and rough, drags across the spot.

“A-Ah!” Your response brings on more humiliation than you need, and you try to push Leona who keeps sucking and nibbling and licking. Doing anything but biting. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Playing with my prey,” he mutters against your nape. “C’mon, just keep making those pretty noises till this lion is satisfied, yeah?”

“You—! I thought you were gonna!”

“Mark you?” He pulls back to show you a smug cat’s expression. “Oh, we’ll get to that in the future, herbivore. They say not to play with your food, but… It’s pretty damn hard when dessert’s this fuckin’ cute.”

“Isn’t this uniform a little too loose on me?” You pout, turning around in front of the mirror to analyze the ill-fitting school polo on you. Behind you, Haku leans on the wall with your damp shirt in hand, taking you all in with a boyish smirk on his face. “Ugh, maybe I should just ask Kaito for one of his spares. We’re closer in build, anyway.”

Haku sighs dramatically. “Damn, what a shame. And I liked you seeing in my clothes as well.” 

You blink for a while, slowly meeting eyes with him in the mirror, then turn red at such scandalous words. You cough and avert your eyes from his amused glance. “Th– That’s irrelevant! I’ll look stupid if I go around wearing something two sizes bigger than me!” “On the contrary,” he tuts. His hands place themselves on the back of your hips and gently guide you to face him. With not a moment wasted, he tightens the shirt toward the front and ties it in a bundle before tucking it into your bottoms. “There you go. If my pretty lil junior wants to walk around with their shirt hugging their every curve, then who am I to complain?” He takes a step back and admires his handiwork. “Looking like a doll, if I might say so. And in my shirt, to boot. If I died now, I’d die a happy man.”

You pout at him, acting all huffy, but the embarrassed blush on your face tells no lies. “Haku, you’re doing too much!”

He laughs out loud— those laughs that are too low in case mama might hear you past curfew— but they’re charming on him. He ruffles your hair with eyes crinkled in adoration. “Too much? Princess, you’re too much for me. Don’t your friends know not to play too much with a lady? Now you’re gonna be in someone else’s clothes until we get that mud of your uniform. I know Haru’s kids might be wildcards, but he oughta teach Towa how to treat a girl right.”

“Leave Towa alone,” you grumble, self-consciously pulling on the sleeves. “Towa’s not constantly eyeing me up and down like some sorta skeev.” 

Your senior, the alluring and mischievous bastard, feigns an expression of hurt that has no ounce of sincerity in it. “Ouch, princess. Do you really think of me some sorta perv?” You hum noncommittally, meeting his mirthful yellow eyes in the mirror. He raises a brow at you and grins handsomely. 

“I’m just a guy who likes what he sees,” he smiles, cocking his head at you. “And you know just how much I love staring at you.”

YANDERE! UPPERCLASSMAN who knows all too well the burdens that come with academy life and sees how overwhelmed you are with all these demands of your classes and your teachers and these boys who demand both time and attention from you (and he is one of many). But he’s the type of guy who likes to play the nice guy, playing the gentlemanly part whenever he drapes his coat over you when your school blouse sticks to your skin, buying you food when he knows that you’re too busy to remember to eat, lending you a patient ear when you need someone to let it out to… He’s your kind and reliable senior who’s been there for you since day one, so there’s no real harm in relying on him, right?

YANDERE! UPPERCLASSMAN who lets out a shudder of excitement when he picks up your calls, knowing full well that he’s the first one you dialed in an emergency. He doesn’t need to put trackers on your phone or whatever fancy tech the other boys have to know that you dialed him up first. He knows. He knows by the way you drop by his dorm before every mission, hoping to consult the wisdom you think he’s got stored in his brain with wide, worried eyes. He knows how relieved your expression is when he catches your eyes in a sea of students, struggling against the current of bodies to latch onto him with the most innocent of smiles. He knows because you’ve told him, over and over and over again, that you’re so, so, so happy to have him by your side.

YANDERE! UPPERCLASSMAN who ‘chances’ upon you in the courtyard, silent as you stare up at the moon. Whatever could be behind those pretty doe eyes that you hide behind your bangs? He takes a seat beside you and doesn’t say a word, joining you to stare at the night sky until you decide to break the silence. For a long while, you don’t say anything, and just when he’s about to dust himself off and walk you to your dorm, you surprise him by slumping against him. Your face is buried in his shoulder as you stay still again, till he feels the tears dampening the sleeve of his uniform and your broken sobs ever so slightly shake his body.

YANDERE! UPPERCLASSMAN… who tries to be the good, reliable, and kind senior that he’s painted himself out to be. He knows what’s expected of him— to wrap his arm around your head and stroke your hair as he patiently awaits your sorrows to subside. And he does that all, the perfect gentleman if it weren’t for that twisted smile on his face, right there for you to see, should you ever raise your head. So he buries that devilish expression on top of your hair, hoping that the unexpected intimacy doesn’t raise any alarms as he closes his eyes and tries to suppress his excitement.

But you smell so fucking good with your signature flowery scent just there for him to breathe in, and you feel so fucking good shaking against him, crying, thinking that you’re protected as long as your dear senior is right there beside you. You don’t know that your senior’s hand is trembling as he forces himself to maintain those gentle strokes instead of pulling your hair back so he can see that pretty, tear-streaked face that he’s been imagining for so long. You don’t know that your senior is fighting the urge to pin you down to that bench and make you bawl even more, to finally break down and release yourself to him and him only.

YANDERE! UPPERCLASSMAN, blasphemous and indolent and a sinner, prays to all the gods that he serves that you don’t notice how fucking hard he is right now.

“Thank you, Haku.” You bow to him after he walks you to the front of your dorm, sniffling and still red-eyed from all that silent crying you did. You are clearly embarrassed, with you cowering behind your bangs more than usual. “I– I’m sorry that I did that. I wasn’t— Today was just—” You swallow and force yourself to collect yourself. “It’s… another failed mission today. I– I thought that the anomaly could break my curse. I… we, we didn’t. We…” You gesture depressingly.

It’s not just pity that Haku feels for you. With all matters regarding you and the Kyklos curse, he approaches with the utmost sincerity. This is the most work he’s done for anyone in years, researching and aiding, but he does not feel even an ounce of grievance that Sinostra was unable to break your curse with this mission. But if your curse were to break, then you’d leave Darkwick, leave him, and he’d go back to the apathetic and hedonistic shell that he was a year before meeting you. And he’d go back to living a life without you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He watches you try to abate the apology with a miserable grin before deciding not to even bother. “I’ll talk to Taiga after this.” You laugh hollowly. “Don’t– It’s okay. What could you even say to him that he’d remember? Just… Just thank you. For walking me to the dorm. For, for everything.”

“A bit too early to be talking like that, don’t you think?” He says as a half-joke, but the knitted eyebrows give away the deeper layers. You avert your eyes again. “You know I’ll send more missions your way. I’ll even get into contact with the staff members for missions that’re not out in public. We’ll find a way to get you rid of the Kyklos once and for all.”

It just has to be me, whispers a tiny, bastardous part of himself. He pushes that down.

“Thank you,” you smile again, this time calmer but not even hopeful in the slightest. “I know how hard you’re working for me. I’m just… well, I don’t know. I guess I’m just afraid to disappoint you in the end.” “How could I–!” He bites his lip and takes a step back when you flinch. “How could I ever be disappointed with the girl I…” He trails off to a whisper. Saying it out loud feels like pain. Not when you’re months away from succumbing to the curse. He stares at you, eyes shaking and face the most distraught you’ve ever seen since you entered this school. 

Either you don’t care for him to complete his sentence or you don’t want to hear it, because you offer him a kind look as you mouth another ‘thank you’ before you slip behind those cathedral doors, the resounding click finally leaving him alone in the dark of night. He can only stare blankly at that grand wooden door, your scent of flowers permeating the air with its sickly sweet stench long after you’ve left.

If you were— If he were— If you’d ever…

He swallows that ache in his throat as he forces himself to finally turn his back against the abandoned church and start the walk to his dormitory with only him and his disturbed thoughts. After you, there’s nothing but a dark, blank slate. He brushes past the white chrysanthemums, barely feeling their stems cut into him as he makes his way back.

BOO IT’S ANOTHER UNPOPULAR FANDOM FIC MEANT TO BAIT YOU IN JOINING ME IN THIS HELL. COME PRAISE THE BEAUTY OF HAKU KUSANAGI WITH ME

He brightens up at your assurance and is practically leaping towards his room with you in hand. “Oh, that’s great then! We’ll have sooo much fun together! We can— What do they do at sleepovers again? Ah, we can girls’ talk or braid hair or— hmmm, my hair can’t really be braided— but we’ll have fun, I swear! Otherwise, I would be a pretty bad host and friend!” You don’t quite think you’re getting much sleep tonight, but you’d take this over being sleepless because of assault.

Kalim had insisted on taking the floor, and you insisted on taking the floor, but he wouldn’t have a guest sleeping there… so now the two of you are lying side-by-side on his grand mattress. You listen to him mindlessly chatter on and on about this and that. It's a nice white noise to fall asleep to, and you feel yourself dozing off beside him until he turns his head to you and smiles at you, “And uh, thanks, [Y. Name].”

Your eyes flutter to stare back at Kalim, taken off guard by the sudden thanks. His smile right now is different from the sunny, devil-may-care usual ones. He looks thoughtful, reflecting on something you’re not yet privy to. You know that Kalim isn’t the simpleton that he portrays himself to be, that he’s only a simpleton because he wants to be that way. You wonder what exactly is weighing on this boy’s mind, and you lazily brush his hair away to take a clear look at him. 

He takes this as a silent sign to continue. “Well, like, it was you who talked some sense into me. You know, during the overblot incident.” He looks regretful as he reminisces back on it. “I thought that everything was my fault, for not noticing Jamil’s suffering… for being stupid and oblivious. I know I am, but I guess you taught me that I should be accountable for my actions and not for others.” He blushes. “Am I… Am I making sense? Sorry, I was just saying what I was thinking. You can go to sleep.”

You smile sleepily. “It’s fine, I get you. I’m happy I could be of some help to you, Kamil.”

“Th– Thanks.” He smiles shyly at you. “But that wasn’t all that I was thanking you for! I was thinking that… my relationship with Jamil’s built on a whole lotta lies, so even if I say we’re friends, we’re not actually friends. But since coming to NRC, I’ve made whole lots of them! Cater, Lilia, Silver… everyone! But I guess, I guess when it comes to you, it’s different somehow? I– I don’t know. But I’m always happier when you’re around?” 

Something in your throat tightens. “That’s… nice, Kalim.”

“Yeah, I am happier when you’re around.” It sounds more like he’s talking to himself, slowly coming to realize something about himself that he’s never quite realized. “And– And I want to make everyone happy, yeah, but to you… to you I want to give you everything. Is that bad?” He asks you, then laughs at himself a bit. “No, how could that be bad? Everyone wants to have everything!” 

“I don’t know…” You try. “Some people are just content with what they have…”

“Yes, and you’ll have everything! Because—” He clasps your hands in his, beaming at you with the brightness of a man who’s realized his true love. “Because I’ll give you everything! I– I love you, [Y. Name]!”

You balk. “Kalim—”

“Everything you could ever possibly want is right here with me,” he says softly. “I love you. So– So if the Headmaster does find that portal back to your home, is it okay? That you forget everything on that other side of the mirror?”

In the dark, Kalim’s red eyes stare at you with a hint of desperation. “So you can stay with me. Since you’re the only real thing I have. … Please.”

You (Kalim Al-Asim): waaah jamil help!!! You (Kalim Al-Asim): theyve stopped replying to my texts !! did i do something wrong?!? my best friend :DD (Jamil Viper): Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you scared them off with all your constant professions of love and your incessant following. You (Kalim Al-Asim): and the 24 carat ring ? 🙁 my best friend :DD (Jamil Viper): So you DO know how annoying you are. You (Kalim Al-Asim): it’s just !!! i like them so much !!! what else am i supposed to do !!! my best friend :DD (Jamil Viper): Don’t ask me for love advice. You (Kalim Al-Asim): but i thought you of all people would know!!! You (Kalim Al-Asim): after all, i always see you watching them from afar ever since… my best friend :DD (Jamil Viper): :/ my best friend :DD (Jamil Viper): Relax. They’re probably not replying since they’re in Professor Crewel’s class. You can swing by them after.

You don’t want to call Kalim terrifying. As you spend the nights with Scarabia, you really don’t want to call the sweetest, most precious boy in all of Night Raven’s College terrifying. It’d do him a disservice, and you’ll sound like an ungrateful brat after everything he’s done for you. He’s played the part of a graceful host, walking with you to your classes, joining you for extravagant dinners, checking on you in lunches… always ready to pop out the moment you round the corner.

You lay in your bed in Scarabia— soft and plush, silk pillowcases damp with your cold sweat— unable to sleep as you stare up at the intricately-patterned ceiling. So many red motifs, each one shaped like eyes staring down at you. Those aren’t Kalim’s, you remind yourself, they’re just perfectly normal designs. Kalim’s isn’t as eerie, bone-chilling, unnerving, words-caught-in-your-throat-before-you-tell-him-no—.

You can’t sleep like this. You need a glass of water. Stat.

You wince when the double doors to your room creak loudly, fearing that you woke up the students or worse of all, the housewarden himself. But only moonlight and the distant cawing of some exotic bird accompany you until you stumble upon vice-housewarden JAMIL VIPER alone in the hallway. You freeze upon eye contact, but he only raises a brow as he takes in your disheveled look and nods towards his door.

“You look pathetic,” he says plainly, just stating the facts without any mockery. “Come inside, I’ll fix you some tea.”

There are very few people on campus that you feel safe being alone with, and Jamil Viper is not one of them. Nevertheless, you find yourself dumbly nodding and dragging your feet behind him. The heavy incense of oud and amber overcomes you as soon as you step into the room, and you find a pot of tea already boiling on his table. He magicks the pot to pour into two cups and floats one towards you.

“Drink.” He settles himself on the edge of his bed after pulling out a chair for you. “You look absolutely exhausted.” You croak out a mumbled thanks before taking a sip. Chamomile, you guess, but you’re not exactly an expert. “Let me guess. Anxiety’s been keeping you up.” A half-smile stretches his lips, looking amused and thoughtful at the same time. “Anxiety about a certain white-haired idiot.”

You wince and busy yourself with the tea. “You wouldn’t believe the nonsense he’s been spouting these days. Droning on and on about love and romance… And just when I thought he couldn’t get more insufferable, he started daydreaming about honeymoon getaways and the jewels on your engagement rings.”

“He’s just— He’s just confused.” Pained, you cut him off. “He’s probably never experienced anything like this, so he’s getting carried away. He’ll get over it. Probably. As soon as I’m gone.”

Jamil’s lips press into a thin line, eyes narrowed as he stares at you from his bed. You’re too busy fiddling with the earthenware that you can’t properly examine his expression. “Dead set on leaving, huh? What a shame. And just when I started to warm up to you, too.” You jolt and blink at him, watching as the devious smile settles on his handsome face. “You’re just being overdramatic. You won’t actually, do that, would you? Not to your friends, not to your dearest Kalim…” Charcoal gray eyes droop sultrily as a dazed look washes over your face.

“Not to me.”

“Say it again once more, would you?” Slender fingers trail along your chin, the master stroking his pet between his thighs. “I won’t leave you. I’ll always be by my master’s side.”

“I won’t leave you. I’ll always be by my master’s side.” Your voice comes out softer, free of all worries and anxieties you might have had when you walked in through his doors. While he does find your shaky, sleep-deprived self adorably pathetic, he much prefers it when you look at him as though he’s your entire world. And with your consciousness in the palm of his hand, it might very well be in this moment. 

“Who’s your master?” He prods, combing your strands while you nuzzle comfortably into the inside of his lap.

“You, Master Jamil. You are my master.”

He lets out a shaky exhale, tilting back his head and leaning on his two hands as he suppresses the perverse grin itching to spread on his face. Fuck, does he love hearing that. He’s had that revelation ever since his overblot, when he truly thought he had control over you while you praised his name to the high heavens and touched him all over like you truly wanted him. He’s had many a sleepless night when the memories of your touch intruded on him like phantoms. And now he’s finally gotten another taste of you, this time with your mind finally under his control.

“You really don’t know what you do to me, pet,” he hums, guiding your hand to his torso and reclining on the pillows behind him. You straddle him with that sweet, ditzy expression, and he pulls on the ribbons tying your top together like a collar of his own making. “Pathetic, isn’t it? The servant boy only getting a taste of power by enslaving the mind of a magickless. But I really don’t care. Not when I have a sweet thing like you for a prize.”

He watches you tilt your head. You don’t comprehend half of the things he’s saying, but it makes you all the more endearing. “Look at me, mouthing off to an airhead like you. Do you think I’m pathetic, pet? Answer truthfully.”

You scrunch your brows, mustering whatever consciousness you still have to get an honest answer. He continues to stroke your hair as you try your best to muster up the words. “I… I don’t think you’re pathetic, Jamil.” You sound lucid, like your real self breaking through, but that lasts only for a moment before you slump right back into his touch.

… What an idiot. Should you know what he’s doing to you right now, maybe you’ll find him worse than pathetic. Or knowing you, you’ll shut out whatever terrible thing he or anyone else will do to you, only keeping everything to yourself until the very day that you (supposedly) will leave this universe. His grin is sardonic.

“Fine.” He thinks of another question. “How about this, then: do you love me?”

… The silence shouldn’t pain him this much.

For a moment, he wants to grab the hair in his hands and pull back, see that helpless face contort in pain, but do nothing to fight back. And he should. He would. But it feels like the air has been knocked out of him, or whatever energy this power trip had given him has withered away. He’s no Kalim. He’s not fucking delusional. Not once has he entertained thoughts of marrying you and giving you the domestic life that any ordinary person could be happy with. Not with you being an alien, and not him being a servant. But fuck. Was it so hard to try and…

“Fine,” he repeats, dry and lifeless. “Say that you love me.”

Like the minx that you are, your hands are upon his toned chest, feeling the heat of your palms transfer to his beating chest. They trail softly against the thin cloth of his undershirt, teasing him until you wrap them around his neck. He glances down and feels his heart in his throat as you wear an innocent yet tantalizing smile, looking at him like you want him just as much as he wants you.

“I love you, master.”

He tilts his head back and laughs, hollow and miserable.