HIS COMPLETE DEVOTION: THE AFTERMATH. Malleus Draconia

How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader

You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird.

aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.

Scene 1: The Offering of... Chaos?

You were determined. Absolutely, one hundred percent determined to win over Malleus Draconia’s heart the fae way. You’d done your research—well, half-researched. You might’ve skimmed some books. Okay, maybe you watched some video where a guy talked about it for 10 minutes. But still! You were ready to tackle fae courting, head-on.

Which is why you were standing in the middle of the campus courtyard holding a potted mandrake. Because, according to some source (you couldn’t quite remember which), gifting rare plants was a surefire way to court a fae prince.

Unfortunately, no one told you that the mandrake in question would scream like a banshee as soon as you yanked it out of the dirt.

"Behold!" You shouted, thrusting the potted terror toward Malleus, who had appeared in his usual fashion—stealthy and majestic, like a dragon perching on a mountain. "A rare gift for the noble Prince of Briar Valley!"

The mandrake, in all its wailing glory, let out a soul-piercing shriek. Nearby students flung themselves behind trees and bushes. Sebek fainted. Silver, as usual, napped through the chaos.

Malleus blinked at you. Once. Twice. His face was a mixture of confusion and slight amusement. "Are you... trying to summon something?"

You frowned. "Summon? No! This is for you!" You held the screaming mandrake higher, like an offering to some ancient god. "As a... token of my appreciation! You like plants, right?"

The mandrake let out a final, particularly blood-curdling scream before going silent, wilting slightly in the pot. Malleus blinked once. Twice. “I... do like plants, yes. But usually... not ones that wish to harm me.”

You grinned, proud of your extremely thoughtful choice. “Well, this one just has personality!”

Malleus cautiously took the pot from you, staring down at the now exhausted mandrake. “Thank you,” he said, sounding unsure if you were joking or being sincere. “I’ll... treasure it.”

Somewhere in the distance, Ace and Deuce exchanged pitying looks. “Man,” Ace muttered, “he doesn’t deserve this.”

Scene 2: The Worst Poem Ever Written

Malleus had been doing his own research—much more thorough than yours, of course. He’d read books. Lots of them. Mostly ancient tomes from his castle library that were centuries old. After all, human courting customs couldn’t have changed that much, right?

His plan was foolproof: Humans enjoyed poetry. Therefore, he would craft you the most beautiful, heart-stopping poem ever written, and your affection for him would blossom like the midnight roses of Briar Valley.

He found you sitting under a tree near the school, probably recovering from your last spectacular fae courting attempt (the less said about the mandrake incident, the better). Malleus approached with all the grace of a dark prince, his black cloak billowing in the wind, carrying a scroll in his hand.

"Dearest," he began, as you looked up from your phone. "I have composed a poem for you. An ode to your beauty and grace."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. Please, allow me." He unfurled the scroll dramatically.

You sat back, intrigued. This was either going to be a disaster or absolute gold. Either way, you were ready.

Malleus cleared his throat, then began to read with all the gravitas of a Shakespearean actor:

"Your hair, like the moss that grows on the oldest tombstones,

Your eyes, like the deepest, darkest, creepiest of wells,

Your voice, as soothing as the distant scream of a lost soul..."

You snorted. "What?"

"Your beauty is like the moon, that I can never reach, because it is in the sky... far away... and also made of rock." He paused, glancing at you hopefully. “Do you like it so far?”

You bit your lip, desperately trying not to laugh. "Um... It's... something. Keep going."

Malleus beamed. "There’s more!"

"Your hands, soft like the belly of a small woodland creature..." He continued, and you finally lost it, howling with laughter. “Is it not... moving?”

You waved your hands, barely able to breathe through your giggles. "Malleus! Are you... Are you serious?!"

“I thought humans liked dark poetry,” he said, looking genuinely concerned.

“Well, some do, but—” You stopped yourself, trying not to laugh. “No, wait, keep going. I want to hear more.”

Malleus, relieved, continued. “Your beauty is like the full moon—cold, distant, and surrounded by darkness.”

Somewhere behind a nearby tree, Lilia was biting his lip to stop from laughing, while Ace and Deuce shared looks of absolute pity for their friend and Malleus.

Ace shook his head. “Poor guy. He’s trying so hard.”

Scene 3: The... Ambush?

Since the plant-gifting thing didn’t go quite as planned, you decided that maybe a more public display of affection would be the ticket. According to something you half-remembered (and maybe misunderstood), fae really appreciated grand gestures of intent. So, naturally, you chose the school cafeteria at lunchtime as your stage.

As you climbed on top of a table, all eyes turned toward you. Malleus sat at a corner table, watching you with his usual calm, collected demeanor, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Prince Malleus!" you shouted dramatically, lifting your arms in the air. “I declare before all of these witnesses that I shall offer this to you!”

The cafeteria fell into dead silence. Well, except for Lilia, who was quietly choking on his laughter in the background.

Malleus blinked, his expression unreadable. “You... what?”

"Yes! I offer you—" you pulled out the cabbage you’d swiped from the kitchen earlier—"this symbol of my devotion!"

Malleus stared at the cabbage in your hands. "Is that... a vegetable?"

“Yes! It’s a sign of fertility or... something.” You weren’t entirely sure, but it sounded right. “I picked it myself!”

Malleus blinked again, clearly trying to process this information. “I... appreciate the gesture."

Lilia butts in. "Beastie, I’m afraid cabbages aren’t typically used in fae courting rituals.”

You pouted, hopping off the table. “What? But I read that—"

“Perhaps... next time, try flowers?”

Behind you, Ace facepalmed. “Oh, man. They're hopeless.”

Scene 4: The Gift of... Dirt?

Malleus was now absolutely convinced that something was seriously wrong with you. You seemed... more chaotic than usual, and while he enjoyed your enthusiasm, he had no idea why you were suddenly thrusting vegetables at him.

In his effort to reciprocate (and maybe figure out what was going on), he decided to give you a gift of his own. A very special one. From his homeland.

After all, humans liked sentimental gifts, right?

That’s why, one morning, he approached you with a small velvet pouch in his hand, his face filled with sincerity. “Child of Man, I have something for you.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, curious. “What’s that?”

He handed you the pouch, and you opened it, only to find... dirt. Black, slightly glittery dirt.

You stared at it. Then at him. Then back at the dirt. “Is this... dirt?”

“Yes,” Malleus said proudly. “From Briar Valley. It’s a very special soil, infused with the magic of my homeland.”

You blinked. “You got me dirt.”

“Very magical dirt,” he corrected, as if that made it better.

You bit back a laugh, trying to keep a straight face. “Um... thanks?”

Ace, watching from a distance, nudged Deuce. “Man, They're gonna end up with a garden at this rate.”

Scene 5: The Unnecessary Duel

Clearly, you had been doing something wrong, because your attempts at fae courtship had been met with nothing but polite confusion. But you were nothing if not determined. The next step in your (completely misguided) strategy? Prove your strength in battle. Duh.

You marched up to Malleus one afternoon, sword in hand, and pointed it at his chest. "Malleus Draconia! I challenge you to a duel!"

Malleus blinked at you, clearly baffled. “A duel? With... me?”

“Yes!” you declared, brandishing the sword with a flourish. “I shall prove myself worthy of your admiration through combat!”

Malleus tilted his head. “You... wish to fight me?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! To the death! Or until someone taps out. Whatever works.”

Malleus looked utterly bewildered but amused. “I... see. But are you sure this is necessary?”

"Absolutely. I need to show you my strength." You tried to strike a dramatic pose, but the sword was way heavier than it looked.

Lilia, perched nearby, was barely containing his laughter. “Oh, this is too good.”

Malleus raised his hand. “Perhaps another time. I would not want to harm you.”

You frowned. “Harm me? Pfft. I’m tougher than I look, dragon boy.”

Scene 6: The Romantic Walk—Through a Thunderstorm

Malleus had one last idea. Humans, he’d read, liked romantic walks. That was simple, right? No vegetables. No poetry. Just a quiet stroll. What could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately, he decided to take you for a walk through the forest on a day when the sky decided to unleash the full wrath of a thunderstorm. And because he was a fae, storms didn’t bother him.

You, on the other hand, were not a fan of being drenched to the bone.

The rain came down in sheets, lightning crackling overhead as you both trudged through the mud. You tried to keep your umbrella steady, but the wind whipped it inside out almost immediately.

“Malleus,” you called over the storm, shouting to be heard. “Why are we walking in this? Are you trying to drown me?”

Malleus, entirely unfazed by the downpour, turned to you, his face serious. “I thought a walk through nature would be a calming experience for you.”

You stared at him, your hair sticking to your face, clothes soaked through, and boots filled with mud. “Calming?! I’m about to be struck by lightning!”

He blinked, as if only now realizing the storm might be an issue for you. “Ah, I see. Humans are... more susceptible to storms. My apologies.”

“Ya think?” You huffed, clutching your now-ruined umbrella. “A ‘romantic stroll’ usually involves good weather.”

Malleus frowned, looking genuinely troubled. “I thought the power of the storm would inspire awe.”

“Yeah, it’s inspiring me to run back inside.” You sighed, shivering. “This is... sweet, I guess. But, uh, maybe next time we check the weather before planning any ‘romantic’ activities?”

As you struggled to wipe rain from your face, you caught a glimpse of Lilia again—he was standing under a tree, dry as could be, watching the scene unfold with glee. His mischievous grin practically radiated from the shadows.

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?” you shouted toward him, but Lilia just waved, clearly loving the chaos.

Malleus, still deep in thought about his failed attempt at human courtship, suddenly looked serious. “Perhaps a different form of human bonding is needed next time.”

Behind you, Ace and Deuce were trailing a safe distance away, both dripping wet but trying to keep from laughing too loudly.

“Man,” Ace muttered, shaking his head. “They're gonna give the poor guy a heart attack one day.”

Deuce nodded solemnly. “Or he’ll get us all killed.”

After days of mutual confusion and failed courtship rituals, you found yourself, once again, sitting with Malleus in one of the school’s many quiet courtyards.

“Y’know,” you began, squinting at him. “I feel like you’ve been acting weird lately.”

Malleus gave you a similar look. “I’ve been thinking the same about you.”

You blinked. “Wait, me? What do you mean?”

“Well,” Malleus said, his brow furrowed, “you’ve been offering me... odd gifts. Vegetables. Challenging me to duels. Declaring intentions in public spaces. It’s... unusual.”

You froze. “That’s... fae courtship. I’ve been trying to... y’know...”

Malleus’ eyes widened. “You’ve been attempting to court me?”

Your face flushed. “Well, yeah! I thought you were acting strange, so I figured you were waiting for someone to, I don’t know, woo you.”

Malleus’ confusion quickly shifted to amusement. “I’ve been trying to court you this whole time.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re what?!”

“I believed you were in distress, so I attempted human courting rituals. Clearly, they didn’t go as planned.”

You both stared at each other for a long moment, the realization of mutual failure sinking in. Then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing, and Malleus, after a moment, chuckled too.

“Well,” you managed between laughs, “we really suck at this.”

“Indeed,” Malleus agreed, his eyes warm with amusement. “Perhaps next time, we should... communicate better.”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “That might help.”

From a safe distance, Lilia watched, his face beaming with pride. “Ah, young love,” he sighed dramatically. “How wonderfully chaotic.”

Ace shook his head, utterly done with the entire situation. “They’re hopeless.”

Deuce nodded in agreement. “At least it’s finally over... right?”

They're so stupid (affectionate)

Masterlist

Asking the Housewardens help with trans tape (SMAU)

summary: you started using trans tape but needed some help from your partner

trope: established relationship, hurt/comfort, reassurance

info: trans FTM reader, transmasc reader, body dysmorphia, binding

characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus (lilia mentioned)

my first smau :P (ignore the timestamp not important idk how to work the app..)

Riddle

Leona

Azul

Kalim

Vil

Idia

Malleus

a/n: MEMI IS SO DIFFICULT WTF I use to have an app that does smau but I DELETED IT N NOW ITS NOT IN THE APP STORE I hate light mood but it didn’t look good dark mood…

I tried tape once but it felt weird n didn’t look flat enough.. I usually use a binder but i feel like i should try it again.

Blot!reader Ending -> Whilom and Gone

This is a darker story. I suggest you refrain from reading it if you're in a fragile mental stare or unable to handle darker themes.

A commotion stirs. It begins like thunder in the chest of the crowd, a crack of sound that startles and rolls, desperate hands reaching through bodies like roots seeking water in drought-stricken soil.

Someone is calling your name. Your real name.

Not the title you wore like a shroud. Not the nickname that softened your edges.

Your name.

The voice is frays—hoarse, raw with need. It claws through the noise, a tattered plea thrown into the wind as if desperation alone could stretch far enough to hold you back.

"Please—!" It breaks in the air. A sound meant to tether you, but you're already untethering.

And beside you, the Blot is still.

So still it could be a statue, if not for the shimmer of hope trembling beneath its ribs—tangled tight and thin like a string pulled to its last length. It does not speak. It does not beg. But its silence is louder than any cry.

Maybe you'll cradle it. Maybe you'll turn, take its hand, and flee the way lovers do in myth—gods and ghosts disappearing into the fog.

But you don't. Your gaze is cold—resolute. Winter-steeled.

This is the revenge you swore when you made the pact— The poison laced into your vow. The hurt you promised to deliver as penance for the ache they'd carved into your soul like a name into bark.

They wore you like sacred threat, stitched into their bones, carried you like a talisman. But they never saw the fraying. The single knot at your heart that, when pulled, unraveled the whole tapestry.

You part your lips to speak—to scorch them with words meant to blister. To scar. A final dagger honed in your ribcage for this moment alone.

But instead... You smile. And then you laugh.

It spills from your chest—thick, golden, like honey boiling in a broken jar. Sticky with truth. The most beautiful sound you've ever made—and it isn't for him.

It's for you.

In that moment—between your breath and your burning— They understand.

They understand everything.

The missed chances, the paper-cut apologies never sent, the sins they swore were harmless.

They realize how easy it had been to pretend you'd be around forever.

And now their mouths are full of words they'll never say. Too late. Too full of rot. Too small for the wound.

You watch despair bloom behind their eyes—a crack in glass, delicate and terminal. Your own eyes are distant now. Indifferent. Like a ghost staring out from behind a mirror.

Then, quietly, You turn. And you leave.

Let them sort through the ashes. Let them pick up pieces they never knew they broke. Let them wade through the guilt like a tide they thought they could outswim.

They won't change until you're gone.

Isn't that funny?

He'll pace past his own reflection now; unable to meet the eyes of the person that drove you away.

Back and forth like a metronome wound too tightly, hands busy with a sweater you left behind, folding shirts meant for a person who no longer exists. He replays the old song you used to hum—not quite right, off-key, like a spell recited by someone who doesn't believe in magic anymore.

He buys your favorite drink. Leaves it on the table. Forgets it's there until it rots. He'll search your scent in aisles of perfumeries and candles and find nothing close enough. He'll try to replace it and gag on the synthetic.

He didn't suffer for what he did. But he'll suffer now.

He'll rot from the inside you, choked on every memory left behind. A ghost haunting the life he thought you'd stay in.

And as for you— Your feet know the way before your heart does. Over uneven pavement and broken sidewalk cracks, past the tagged street sign you once pointed out with a laugh. Through shortcuts you forgot had names. Through alleys that only mattered now that they are yours again.

You look insane. Laughing in odd, foreign clothes. Wind-swept and half-feral. A missing person returned to earth, shedding fantasy like old skin.

But for once— You're not a chosen one. You're not cursed or divine. You're not a puzzle to be solved or a prophecy to fulfill.

You are someone whose coffee order is remembered by name. Someone whose favorite flower grows near the mailbox. The boy in the hall knows your favorite color. The girl at the bus stop knows your music taste.

No grand magic. No haunted past. Just faint recognition. Just warmth.

It's enough.

You return home. To the endless hum of a cheap fan, tot he familiarity of old blankets, to warm hands that grip you tight enough to shake. They don't let go—afraid you'll vanish again.

You cry over breakfast. You laugh into leftovers. You fall asleep under the weight of soft, human love—the kind that doesn't demand you perform for it.

Your home smells like that one candle you have and the smell of detergent that you can only notice when you're gone.

A thin, red scar remains on your left ring finger—an echo of a promise, a ghost of a bond once forged in blood. An artifact that once held you upright, that once puppeted your limbs like a marionette of grief. It no longer works here. It doesn't belong.

The Blot once told you the world rights itself. A broken piece returns damaged, yes—but still returns.

And here?

Here, you are whole. Your world cradles your fragile soul and repairs its shattered bones.

Your lungs no longer ache with rigor. Your heart doesn't rattle like an empty cage. You are not a ruin. You are not a corpse.

You are alive.

Let them mourn. Let them remember. Let them scream your name into the sky, scratch it into stone, weave it into stories they'll never finish. Let him wear your voice like a wound. Let your smile haunt every place you touched.

But you—

You won't remember them.

Somewhere, far from your warmth, in a school rotting beneath its golden reputation, your last laugh echoes through empty halls—an unending, unanswered whisper.

Your portrait hangs in the halls of Night Raven College—not as a saint, not as a sinner. As a question. A sigh. A shadow.

Your name is face is drawn in the corner of old textbooks, your name carved under a desk .

And in the stillest hour of the night, he hears you in the quiet— Not a scream. Not a laugh.

A sob.

He hears grief he'd been deaf to before.

And you?

You're wrapped in warm sheets, safe in a world that forgot your sins and never expected your sacrifice.

You're somebody.

Even when no one's watching. Even when you're alone.

[ENDING -> Go Home]

Go back?

Okay.

hey so Riddle dislikes it when people make fun of him for his height and he gets super angry, so what’s he do when his crush who is taller than him by a couple of inches, be it male or female, and crush is calmly like “you’re 5’3 right? Why not just take their kneecaps or kick them in their balls if they annoy you so much about it?” ( 😂 he’s never been in a physical fight in his life and I don’t think using his short height to his advantage has ever occurred to him. Crush encouraging a new sort of wrath on the tweels)).

Riddle Rosehearts was fuming. Again.

The Tweels had been particularly insufferable today—Floyd crouching dramatically to pat his head, and Jade making a suspiciously polite remark about “how hard it must be to assert one’s authority from such a low altitude.”

He’d nearly given himself an ulcer biting his tongue, only letting out a withering, “That is enough out of you two!” before storming off with his dignity as intact as it could be.

You found him pacing in the rose garden, mumbling under his breath and looking very much like he was seconds away from reenacting a guillotine scene with hedge clippers.

“Bad day?” you asked, leaning against a column casually. You were a few inches taller than him—not that it ever bothered you.

“Those eels—!” Riddle snapped, gesturing furiously with his arms. “I cannot understand why everyone insists on mocking me for my height! I am not a child! I am the Housewarden of Heartslabyul!”

You blinked at him. Then tilted your head.

“You’re 5’3”, right?”

His eye twitched. “Yes, and if you must bring that up—”

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged calmly, “if people are giving you grief about it, why not just take their kneecaps or kick them in the balls?”

Riddle stared. Visibly short-circuited. “I—I beg your pardon?!”

You smiled a little, nonchalant. “I mean, logically speaking, your height gives you the perfect angle. You don’t even need to aim that hard. A swift move and boom—problem solved. Think of it as strategic retaliation.”

He looked appalled. “That’s—that’s barbaric! I’ve never—I’m not a street brawler! I resolve disputes with rules! And logic! And—”

“But Riddle,” you interrupted sweetly, “you’d be so efficient at it.”

He paused.

“…Efficient?”

You nodded, utterly serious. “You could weaponize their assumptions. No one sees it coming from someone who quotes dorm rules and drinks tea with pinky out. Floyd crouches to mess with you? Just go for the knees. Jade tries to be snide? Ball tap. Bam. Lesson learned.”

Riddle looked down at his gloved hands. Then back up at you.

“…I could probably knock Floyd’s balance off if I timed it right…”

You nodded. “Exactly. You’re small but mighty. Tactical. Like a magical landmine.”

He flushed, torn between scandal and curiosity. “That’s… absurd. And completely against school policy.”

“…But you are a rule enforcer,” you pointed out. “Technically, you’d just be punishing them for misconduct. Just... with more spice.”

He made a strangled sound.

Later that week, Floyd tried the head-patting thing again.

Riddle didn’t actually kick him in the balls.

But he did jab his wand directly into the side of Floyd’s knee with the kind of force that made the eel slump to the floor like a sack of eels and wail, “Shrimpy what did you TELL HIM?!”

You sipped your tea from the sidelines.

Riddle didn’t smile.

But he did look... significantly less furious.

Since Xmas is almost upon us, can you do one with the dorm leaders receiving a present from their s/o on Xmas? Thank You

this is your official fairestwriting christmas post. i decided to go all out and give each one of them a little scenario! i hope you like it. merry late crisis everyone!

Riddle Rosehearts

Since talk of holiday season started showing up around Riddle, he'd been stressed. With his mother being herself, she'd been expecting him to come home for winter break, and that had been a whole argument of its own, but with the help of you and his friends, you'd been able to set up a party at Heartslabyul with the rest of the students who stayed.

When it's time to exchange gifts and you hand him the strawberry-themed tea set you'd felt lucky you even found, plus a loving note about how proud you were of him for standing his ground, Riddle's eyes go as wide as the dinner plates, you swear you could see tears prickling at the corners.

"I'm... thank you, so much." He says, his voice small and frail for a second, before a big smile makes its way through his face. "I think I can remember a rule regarding present wrapping now, but... I guess we can make an exception tonight. Besides, I did want to give you a gift of my own too, so..."

Leona Kingscholar

Does Leona even celebrate any holidays? When you asked him, he shrugged and made this noncommital noise. You squinted your eyes at him, and he said nothing else. You could tell then that it wouldn't be so easy to get him a present. You end up making him a bracelet anyway, matching the ones he often wears, in both your favorite colors.

Your celebration is more of a private one, a little early on before he leaves for the break with his family. Savanaclaw was holding its own little party that night, exchanging gifts, food and drinks, and you were there with Leona, who you knew was going to leave early, as he did for every event. When he asks you to come with him, you're assuming it's for that, and there's your opportunity.

Before you can get it from your pocket, though, he pulls out a package of his own. "So, Herbivore, I don't really care about the holidays, but since you do, I decided I'd..." He notices you're holding one as well, and smirks. "Oh, did you get me a present too? I guess I can't say you owe me one now, then..." He chuckles as he leans into your space, always so smug, but his tail swishes happily.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul does not like gifts. You have known that since way before you started dating, yet you couldn't help yourself in how you wanted to give him a little something for christmas. It takes some talking to, but he'd been inviting you to spend the break with his family anyway, and he finally caved in when you framed it like a gift trade rather than just you giving him something.

You make sure to pick it as carefully as you can way before he takes you to meet his family, and it's intimidating, the thought of seeing your boyfriend's parents for the first time, plus the whole underwater factor, but the dinner with the Ashengrottos turns out to go by quickly, everyone appreciating your company.

He steps up to tell everyone to skip to gift giving time when his mother is about to get the baby pictures out, which you all agree on, laughing to yourselves. You finally get to show him that you got him a fountain pen for his work, then! And his huffiness instantly subsides. "That's... I'm really not one for gifts, but it's beautiful. Thank you." You finally get a smile from him, and he grasps your gift in his hands. "Ah, I can only hope mine will be enough to cover this. But if it's not, I'll find a way to make up for it as well..."

Kalim Al-Asim

Scarabia was having one hell of a christmas party. You knew that before you even really did, it was just as obvious as common sense. When winter break is nearing and Kalim skips over to you to tell you about his plans, you aren't surprised in the slightest, though it lights up one new thought in your mind: You needed to get him something.

Getting Kalim a gift actually proves itself to... not be very easy. He's excitable and loving, sure, and you know he'd appreciate anything you gave him, but you wanted to make it a good surprise, and he's capital R rich... you try getting information out of Jamil when you're helping him with his tasks, but even with that, it's still hard.

Eventually, you figure it out, and when you do, you're proud. You join Scarabia in their party that night, everyone's spirits high. You pull him aside when the gift giving starts, showing him the gold necklace you got him with a big smile, wishing him a merry christmas. Kalim's eyes sparkle, he envelops you in a big hug. "Merry christmas! Thank you so much!" He chimes, twirling you as he laughs. "Now I just need to give you my gifts! They're in the other room, though...I didn't know what to pick so I just got everything I liked, hehe."

Vil Schoenheit

Christmas was approaching, and you were nervous. You've been dating Vil for a while now, and you know very well how picky and strict he is. You know your boyfriend loves you, of course, but you can't help but feel anxious about the holidays, especially since Vil had invited you to come meet his father.

Your roles revert for a little bit, in that now he’s the one telling you to loosen up a bit, you’re already doing a great job at being his partner, he trusts you with all of this. Though he does offer help in picking the present, but you refuse it, adamant about the fact that you want to surprise him.

And as he said, it all goes alright. You’re a little shy, but his father is kind and the Schoenheit home is warm, the three of you eat and share stories comfortably, you feel like you have a place there. You pull him aside to give him his gift, though, because you wanted it to be one-on-one as you’re handing him the brooch you picked. “Oh, you have such good taste, potato. I’m impressed.” He says, chuckling when he takes it in his hands. “I’ll definitely be wearing this. Now, I just need to give you mine, too. I hope you like it, you know I don’t settle for anything but the best.”

Idia Shroud

In a scale from one to ten, how surprising is it that Idia is kind of a grinch type? You knew of his opinion on the holidays as soon as talk of it started to emerge in Night Raven, him grumbling about how all the bright jolly energy was “hurting his eyes”, but when you asked him if he would be okay with getting a present, he stammered, voice pitching up high, that he wouldn’t mind. And so you go on your mission.

Luckily, you spend a lot of time with him in his room, and he tends to ramble a lot about the anime and games he’s currently into, so choosing what to get him isn’t difficult! He does have some holiday stress though, seeming a bit conflicted over going back home to his family, but you tell him you’ll hang out with him in his room before you leave for break, and it seems to make him happy.

There’s not much of a christmas atmosphere going on while you’re there, but there are a few holiday events in some of the games you play together, so it kind of feels like you’re celebrating in your own unique way. After some of that, you decide to hand him the gift, and he just burns red. “You got it for me...!” He squeaks, grabbing the box in complete shock, holding it to his chest. “S-Seven, that’s... thank you, merry christmas, c-can I get you something after break too? I was already planning to, but... um, I mean, it was supposed to be a surprise.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus does quite enjoy christmas. He doesn’t celebrate it himself, since it’s not really as much of a part of the culture in the Valley of Thorns, but he can’t help but appreciate the warm, celebratory atmosphere. You ask him if he’d mind if you got him anything, and you swear you see his pupils grow a little as he says he wouldn’t.

You two schedule a dinner by Ramshackle the day before he has to leave for break, he does make a point in telling you he’d bring you over to the Valley, but thought it might be better to take it slow, since it’s your first year in Twisted Wonderland. You wonder about what to get him for a while, until you come across this miniature gargoyle in Sam’s shop.

The way it goes is kind of like it was all scripted by fate. You get food together, mostly bought, and you’d decorated the dorm beforehand. You talk and watch the snow, light the fireplace to sit in front of it in comfortable silence, when you decide to break it to hand him the gift. You don’t have to say much, just placing it on his hands as you smile. “I love it.” And he says, smiling back with his voice full of wonder. “You know me better than anyone else, don’t you, Child of Man? Thank you for spending the holiday with me. I’ve also picked out a special gem to gift you, though that’s not much of a christmas tradition, I think...”

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

Reckless Road Trips

𝖆/𝖓: since I did first years, why not write something with second and third years [coming soon] too? no romance once more btw

𝖙𝖜: none, usual nrc chaos

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: second years x reader

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 1144

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

The van swayed gently down the sun-soaked highway, packed with eight eccentric second-years and you crammed somewhere in the backseat between Jade and Floyd. It was meant to be a "relaxing getaway," something Azul had insisted would be good for your health and interpersonal development. You weren’t sure if being in a vehicle with this much raw chaos counted as relaxing.

Floyd’s legs were draped across both yours and Jade’s laps, a foot tapping idly to a playlist Kalim had made—an energetic mix of party music, pop, and oddly enough, frog sounds. Riddle had already protested twice. "We are not listening to amphibian mating calls!"

“Are we theeeeere yet~?” Floyd groaned dramatically.

“That’s the fifth time,” you muttered.

“Sixth,” Jade corrected pleasantly.

“Stop keeping track!” Azul called from the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to sanity. “If anyone else asks that question, I’m cancelling the shaved ice.”

A beat.

“Are we there yet?” Kalim asked cheerfully.

Azul visibly died inside.

When you finally reached the beach, it was like a switch flipped. Everyone exploded out of the van, hauling towels and umbrellas like it was a timed race. Ruggie took off toward the water, yelling, “Last one in buys lunch!” before leaping straight into the waves.

You hung back a moment, stretching out sore limbs before grabbing a beach ball from the trunk.

“Hey Floyd,” you called, tossing it toward him. “Game?”

“Ooh~ Shrimpy wants to play?” Floyd’s grin spread wide. “Let’s see how long you last!”

The game started off easy. Light volleys, lots of laughter. You had just gotten into a nice rhythm when Floyd’s competitive instincts took over. His next spike sent the ball screaming across the sand.

“NO—!” you shouted.

Too late.

It slammed right into the back of Riddle’s head.

His ice cream went flying.

There was a moment of dead silence.

Floyd whistled innocently. “Oops~”

Riddle turned around, the picture of quiet rage. “FLOYD LEECH.”

Even the seagulls went quiet.

You doubled over laughing. Ruggie cackled from the shore. Kalim gasped, “Oh no! Riddle, I’ll buy you another!” while Jade said calmly, “You had to know that was going to happen.”

Later, you knelt near the tide line, carefully constructing a sandcastle with Kalim’s help. Jade occasionally offered eerie suggestions—“Add a trench for dramatic flair. Perhaps some bones?”—while you shaped towers with seashell windows. It was kind of nice, getting lost in the simple rhythm of sculpting.

But you had built it too close to the shore.

You realized it the second the wave came barreling in.

“No no no no—!”

Your castle crumbled in one powerful surge of water, reduced to a slurry of wet sand and disappointment.

“Nature is a harsh mistress,” Jamil said from a beach chair, sipping coconut water.

You glared. “I worked hard on that!”

He raised an eyebrow. “So does the tide.”

Azul walked over, shielding his eyes. “Everyone ready to head to the cabin?”

“Already?” you asked.

He gestured to a very grumpy Riddle, now coated in sand and scowling. “I think we’ve reached the ‘cut our losses’ part of the day.”

You expected a log cabin. Maybe something rustic with questionable plumbing.

What you got instead was luxury.

The glamping site Azul had booked looked like a forest resort—glass windows, warm wood paneling, a fire pit outside, and a kitchen that looked straight out of a magazine.

“...You rented this?” Riddle asked skeptically.

Azul adjusted his glasses. “I negotiated. Extensively.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruggie said, flopping onto one of the beanbags. “Bet it still cost more than all my groceries for a month.”

There was one small hiccup.

Only six bedrooms.

Which meant one room had to be shared.

“We’ll take it,” Jade offered calmly. “We already share a dorm room. The bunk bed arrangement won’t be awkward.”

Floyd threw an arm around his brother. “Jade snores like a kelpie! It’s like sleeping next to a drowning walrus.”

Jade smiled serenely. “At least I don’t talk in my sleep. ‘Mmm shrimp, don’t leave~’.”

You ended up paired with Kalim, who had somehow brought his own disco ball. He plugged it into the ceiling lamp, turned on music, and invited everyone to an impromptu dance party.

Jamil’s soul visibly left his body.

By the time the sun dipped below the trees, you were roasting marshmallows at the fire pit, wrapped in a borrowed hoodie, and nursing a cup of hot chocolate. Silver was already asleep beside you, Floyd was trying to toss popcorn into Riddle’s mouth (he missed, a lot), and Azul was casually checking stock charts on his tablet.

“This was... nice,” you said softly.

Azul didn’t look up. “I plan thoroughly.”

Ruggie raised a skewer. “To glamping!”

“To glamping!” the group echoed.

You thought that would be the end of it. But the next morning, Azul announced one final detour.

“There’s a secluded hot springs inn nearby. I already booked us a night.”

You blinked at him. “When did you do that?”

“Before the beach. I anticipated fatigue.”

“You mean this was the cooldown for the cooldown?” Riddle muttered.

Still, no one objected. The moment you arrived, any hesitation melted into the mountain mist. The inn was traditional and beautiful—wooden beams, soft lanterns, and the scent of mineral water drifting through the cool air.

“Only one spring?” Kalim asked.

“It’s mixed,” said the innkeeper with a smile. “It’s fully private tonight, so you have it all to yourselves.”

You shuffled toward the changing rooms with a towel clutched to your chest, cheeks already warm.

The outdoor bath was surreal. Steam rose into the night sky, stars twinkling above as warm water lapped gently at the stone edges. You slipped in with a sigh, letting your body melt.

“This is heaven,” you mumbled.

Until Floyd cannonballed in.

Water exploded over the edges.

Riddle screamed. Azul’s glasses fogged up. You got a face full of wave.

“FLOYD!”

“Hot soup time~!” Floyd sang, splashing around. “Mmm, shrimp stew!”

“Stop calling it that,” Jade muttered.

You sank lower in the water, shoulders shaking with laughter. Silver drifted in, practically asleep, and Kalim floated on his back, humming happily.

Ruggie was balancing rocks on your head.

Jamil was too tired to fight it.

You and Azul ended up side by side, staring up at the stars. He exhaled slowly, tension fading from his shoulders.

“You really went all out,” you said.

“I wanted something we’d remember.”

You bumped your knee lightly against his. “Mission accomplished.”

That night, after a second soak and way too many snacks, you curled up on a futon between Silver’s gentle snores and Kalim’s soft singing. Floyd had fallen asleep halfway through a horror story, and Riddle was still arguing with Jade about the proper way to wear a yukata.

You smiled.

Yeah. You could definitely get used to this.

credit to @enchanthings-a for divider

Jealousy, Jealousy with: Housewardens

Riddle Rosehearts

It was honestly impressive how oblivious some people could be.

You weren’t even doing anything particularly inviting—just standing in the courtyard, minding your own business—when someone you barely knew strolled up and started laying it on thick.

“Wow, you must be tired,” they grinned, leaning a little too close for comfort. “From running through my mind all day.”

You stared. Slowly blinked. “...I literally don’t know who you are.”

They laughed, undeterred. “Oh, a little mystery! I like that. We should get to know each other. How about a—”

Before they could finish, a very distinct presence materialized beside you, and suddenly, your hand was clasped in a vice grip.

You turned your head, already stifling a grin. Riddle stood stiffly at your side, his expression carefully neutral—too neutral—but his fingers tightened around yours with unmistakable possessiveness.

And then, in the most Riddle way possible, he opened his mouth and immediately started critiquing their uniform.

“Your tie is loose, your shirt is untucked, and your posture is abysmal,” he declared, gaze sharp. “It’s disgraceful. If you have time to loiter and bother people who are clearly uninterested, then you certainly have time to fix your appearance.”

The person, previously brimming with confidence, visibly withered. “I—wait, you’re—”

“Housewarden Rosehearts,” Riddle confirmed, tone clipped. “And if you ever plan to talk to my partner again, I strongly suggest you do so properly dressed.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—without another word—the person bolted, nearly tripping over themselves in their rush to escape.

The moment they were gone, you turned to Riddle, your amusement barely contained. “Riddle,” you said, voice dripping with mirth. “Were you jealous?”

He scoffed, tugging at his collar. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You raised a brow, glancing pointedly at the way his grip on your hand hadn’t loosened in the slightest. Then, you took in the very obvious, very intense red dusting his cheeks.

He refused to meet your eyes.

You laughed, delighted, and before he could protest further, you leaned in and kissed him, pressing a quick, affectionate peck to his still burning cheek.

Riddle went still.

“…You are jealous,” you whispered against his skin, just to tease.

“I am not,” he insisted, but his voice cracked ever so slightly, and that was enough to send you into another fit of laughter.

Still smiling, you tugged on his hand, leading him away. “Come on, let’s go do something fun before you start assigning uniform inspections as an act of vengeance.”

Riddle let out a heavy sigh, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he laced his fingers more firmly with yours, the corners of his lips twitching—just barely—before he let you drag him along.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was going to lose his mind.

Three days.

Three days of watching you run around with those two idiots and that furball, pouring over textbooks, muttering formulas under your breath, completely oblivious to the fact that he existed.

You were studying. Fine. He got it. But you were studying with them.

And not him.

The moment the door to Ramshackle creaked open, you knew.

It was a sixth sense at this point—an awareness of a certain presence, of a lazy kind of arrogance that filled the air like a storm cloud waiting to break.

And break it did.

Because before you could so much as blink, a heavy arm was slung around your shoulders, and your entire world tilted.

You let out a startled yelp as you were bodily dragged from the dorm, Ace and Deuce frozen mid-review session, Grim’s tail puffed up in sheer betrayal.

“Oi—!”

“Not oi,” Leona drawled, utterly unbothered by your flailing. “Mine.”

You spluttered. “Leona, I have to study!”

“You can study later,” he dismissed, hauling you across campus with a grip so firm you had no choice but to stumble along. “You’re overdue for a break."

“I don’t have time for a break—”

“You do” he interrupted smoothly, and that was that.

You huffed, glaring up at him. “This is kidnapping.”

“Tch. If I was kidnapping you, I wouldn’t be this obvious about it.”

That was… not reassuring.

By the time he finally dumped you onto his bed, you were half-expecting him to declare an official study ban, but instead, he settled in beside you, his arms casually looping around your waist, his body half-draped over yours like an oversized, incredibly smug blanket.

“Go on, then,” he murmured against your shoulder, voice low and easy. “Study.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Here?”

He hummed. “Why not? I got old notes. Bet they’re better than whatever those idiots are using.”

You blinked. “You actually have notes?”

Leona scoffed, reaching over to grab a notebook from his desk. “What, you think I just guessed my way through school?” He flipped it open and, to your absolute shock, the pages were filled with neatly written summaries, key points highlighted with the kind of precision that suggested he did actually pay attention. “See?”

“…I hate that this is actually useful.”

“Told you.”

You sighed, already feeling yourself sink into the warmth of him, the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing, the way his fingers tapped lazily against your side, like he knew you were starting to relax and was deliberately making it worse.

Still. If you had to study, this wasn’t… terrible.

You let your head rest against his shoulder, flipping through the notes. “Fine. But if I fall asleep, it’s your fault.”

Leona smirked, his breath warm against your skin. “Then I guess you’ll just have to take a nap right here.”

You rolled your eyes, but the next time you felt him shift, the unmistakable curve of his smile pressing into your neck, you didn’t even bother fighting it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul Ashengrotto was a patient man.

A calculated man.

A businessman.

Which was the only reason he hadn’t already torn his hair out strand by agonized strand over the fact that you had been frequenting some other café for the past two weeks.

At first, he’d assumed it was a novelty thing. Maybe you had a moment of curiosity. Maybe they had some limited-time drink that you needed to try. Maybe you’d simply gotten lost—it happened more often than you liked to admit.

But no. You had kept going.

Loyal, devoted, regular patronage.

To a café that was not the Mostro Lounge.

Azul could not abide it.

So, instead of despairing in silence, he took action.

The next time you announced you were heading there, Azul smiled, adjusted his glasses, and accompanied you.

Because if there was something about this place that had captured your attention, then he would analyze it, perfect it, and eliminate the competition before they could even think about stealing away his most treasured customer.

(And partner. But semantics.)

At first, it seemed innocent enough. You gushed over some ridiculous limited-menu item with a starry-eyed enthusiasm that made him fond despite himself, but it was just cake. Cake was replaceable. Cake was replicable. Cake was nothing.

And then the owner came out.

Azul didn’t move, but his businessman’s smile settled into place with all the calculated precision of a predator fixing its gaze upon its prey.

The café owner, meanwhile, had their full attention on you.

And they were far too familiar.

Far too comfortable.

Far too eager.

Their eyes crinkled with warmth when they spoke to you, their laughter was just a touch too soft, and their entire demeanor—

Azul’s fingers twitched. He did not clench them into fists, because that would be petty, but—

He was going to destroy them.

With a pleasant, affable smile, of course.

By the time you finished your cake (which Azul had methodically analyzed with every bite), he had already formulated seventeen different ways to not only outdo this café, but to erase its relevance entirely.

He escorted you back to your room, silent for once, but his mind was racing.

And then, after a long pause, he asked, “Do you enjoy their presence?”

You blinked. “Who?”

“The owner.”

You stared at him, visibly baffled. “…I like their cake?”

Azul opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

And then, after a long, suffering pause, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, because of course you hadn’t noticed.

Because of course you had been utterly, entirely oblivious to the way they had been practically fawning over you.

He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

So, in the end, he simply pulled you close and kissed you, long and lingering, with a kind of slow, consuming possessiveness that had you melting against him in pleased surprise.

He held you the entire night, unwilling to let go, much to your delighted confusion.

And if, a week later, the Mostro Lounge mysteriously unveiled a bigger, better, and undeniably tastier version of that limited-edition cake, effectively nullifying any reason for you to return to that café—

Well.

Azul had no comment.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim insisted on picking you up after class every day, no matter how many times you told him it wasn’t necessary. He always laughed, dismissing your protests with a wave of his hand, as if the very idea of not meeting you after class was ridiculous. “Why wouldn’t I? I like seeing you first thing after class! It makes my whole day better!” And, honestly, how could you argue with that?

So, as usual, you waited outside, looking for that familiar flash of red and gold. You didn’t mind—Kalim was always quick, always eager, and always a little over-the-top about it, greeting you with his usual sunbeam of a grin and a greeting so enthusiastic it was like he hadn’t just seen you that morning.

But today, before Kalim arrived, someone else approached.

At first, you thought it was just an overly friendly upperclassman looking to chat, but the way they leaned in, the way their eyes swept over you, made your skin crawl. Their words were dripping with false charm, their smile just a little too knowing, and the moment they took your hand, something in you snapped.

You were seconds away from yanking yourself free and letting them know exactly what you thought about their audacity—

And then, before you could react, a firm hand wrenched theirs away from you.

You turned, eyes widening in surprise, and saw Kalim standing beside you.

Only—this wasn’t the Kalim you were used to.

There was no bright, carefree smile, no cheerful energy. His expression was carefully blank, his eyes steady and serious in a way that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. He wasn’t angry—no, you’d seen Kalim angry before, and this was something different. This was controlled, quiet disapproval as he stared the person down, his grip on their wrist unyielding.

“Don’t touch them.” His voice was even, but there was no room for argument.

The person sputtered something, an attempt at an excuse, but Kalim’s gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t shout, didn’t make a scene, didn’t need to. The sheer weight of his presence was enough, and after a tense pause, the person hurried off, clearly rattled.

And just like that, Kalim let out a breath and turned back to you, his usual grin slipping easily back into place, warm and reassuring. “Are you okay?”

You blinked.

Your heart was pounding. Not from fear—not even from lingering discomfort—but from something else entirely.

Because, apparently, Kalim without his smile was unfairly, ridiculously attractive.

You managed to nod, clearing your throat, forcing yourself to breathe as he took your hand—gently, reverently, the complete opposite of the unwanted touch from before. He squeezed it lightly, beaming at you as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.

Later that night, as the two of you lounged together, he confessed, a little sheepishly, “I hated seeing them touch you.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if just remembering it made his stomach twist.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, leaning in to kiss him. He hummed against your lips, pleased, the jealousy from earlier completely forgotten.

And if, after that, Kalim insisted on being even quicker to meet you after class, practically appearing the second you stepped outside—well, who were you to complain?

Vil Schoenheit

You had been meticulous in your planning. A surprise party to celebrate Vil’s latest movie role—because, really, any excuse to throw a party for him was a good one. You coordinated with Rook (a double-edged sword, given his enthusiasm), found the perfect venue, picked out a cake that was as extravagant as he was, and carefully avoided any suspicion.

Or at least, you thought you had.

Vil, on the other hand, was about five minutes away from losing the last thread of his sanity.

You had been avoiding him. Not in the obvious, dramatic way—but in the subtle, infuriating way that made his stomach twist unpleasantly. Shorter conversations, quick kisses before running off, whispering in dim hallways with Rook, of all people.

Rook, who delighted in keeping secrets and spoke in riddles even when he wasn’t actively trying to be cryptic. Every time Vil so much as entered the room, your conversations stopped, and all he got was your innocent, suspiciously wide-eyed smile.

It was unacceptable.

But Vil was not jealous. Of course not. He was above something so irrational. Why should he feel threatened? The very idea of it was absurd. He was merely… curious. Concerned. Watching you sneak around with Rook had been horrible for his blood pressure, but jealous? Certainly not.

(And if his skincare routine had gotten even more rigorous to account for stress-induced breakouts, that was purely coincidental.)

So when you finally waltzed into his room, all bright-eyed and smiling, telling him to get dressed, his patience—what little remained—snapped.

In one smooth motion, he had you caged in against his vanity.

You blinked up at him, startled. “Uh. Hi?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You have been distracted lately.”

“Uh.” Your bluffing instincts kicked in, but it was useless. Vil’s gaze was sharp, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t look angry, exactly—he looked… hurt.

And, well. That was enough to shatter your resolve immediately.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!” You blurted, hands flying up in surrender. “We planned a surprise party for your movie premiere, and I didn’t want to ruin it! That’s why I’ve been sneaking around!”

Silence.

And then—

Vil laughed.

Not a quiet chuckle. Not a delicate, amused exhale. No, he laughed so hard that he had to lean on you for support, his entire body shaking with it.

And just like that, the tension was gone. He exhaled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before straightening. “Next time,” he said, smoothing his hands over your shoulders, “just tell me.”

You sighed, half-exasperated, half-fond. “That ruins the surprise.”

“Surprises are overrated,” he declared. “Now, come. You planned this party, and I refuse to let you attend it looking anything less than perfect.”

Before you could protest, he had already grabbed your wrist, dragging you toward his closet.

And honestly? After all that turmoil, matching outfits was the least he deserved.

Idia Shroud

Idia had been off all evening.

Not in the usual, grumbly, "the outside world is a waking nightmare" kind of way. No, this was different. This was pointed.

He was pouting.

You had first noticed it when he refused to meet your gaze, keeping his head turned at an almost comical angle whenever you tried to look at him. Even when you sat next to him, close enough that your shoulders brushed, he still wouldn’t acknowledge you.

At first, you thought he was just having an introvert moment. But then you noticed his fingers—tapping on his controller in short, stilted bursts, his usual fluid movements replaced with something far more sulky.

Something was wrong. And worse, he was refusing to tell you.

So, naturally, you did what any reasonable person would do.

You grabbed his face.

“??!!??!” Idia made an undignified noise as your hands squished his cheeks, forcing him to finally look at you. His wide eyes darted around frantically, looking for an escape, but you just leaned in, resting your forehead against his.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know what I did.”

For a second, he wavered. You could see it—the way his hands twitched, his lips pressed together in a battle between staying mad and melting like he always did when you held him like this.

But then—betrayal. Pure, unfiltered betrayal flashed in his eyes.

“If you don’t even realize your crimes,” he huffed, “then you don’t deserve to be told.”

…Huh.

You blinked at him, torn between concern and immense amusement. His cheeks were puffed up in an actual pout, his shoulders slightly hunched like an offended cat. His hair even flickered with a dramatic little sizzle, the blue flames crackling indignantly.

So, you did what any responsible partner would do in this situation.

You kissed his cheek.

He made another noise—this one more flustered than betrayed—but at least he wasn’t turning away anymore.

“Idiaaaa,” you coaxed, voice lilting as you gently rubbed soothing circles against his jaw. “Come on. Tell me.”

He hesitated.

Then, in a grievously wounded tone, he finally muttered:

“You did your dailies… without me. Who did you do them with?”

You stared at him.

“…That’s it?”

He gasped, looking even more betrayed. “That’s it?!”

Okay. Maybe not the best response.

“I just—” You tried to stifle your laugh, but failed miserably. “I didn’t know it was that serious—”

“IT IS,” he declared. “We have an unspoken promise! Every night! We do our dailies! We do our pulls! We suffer together in the gacha mines!” He gestured wildly, his voice spiking in distress. “And today—today, you—you—” His voice wobbled. “You betrayed me.”

You clutched your chest in mock horror. “I have committed the greatest of sins.”

“You HAVE.”

You bit your lip, barely holding back another laugh, but then—then you saw his face. The dramatic pout, the still-flickering flames, the way his fingers fidgeted against his sleeve.

And suddenly, it hit you.

This wasn’t just about the dailies. This was his time with you. The one moment of the day where it was just the two of you, side by side, relaxed and rambling about nonsense while farming loot drops.

And you had accidentally robbed him of it.

Your amusement softened into something warmer. You pulled him closer, letting your fingers trail through his hair as you pressed another kiss to his cheek—longer this time.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, resting your chin against his shoulder. “I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I did them alone, by the way.”

He mumbled something under his breath, still sulking, but at least he wasn’t pulling away.

“I promise I’ll wait for you every day from now on,” you continued, letting your fingers trace comforting patterns into his back. “Okay?”

“…Tch,” he muttered. Then, after a long pause, he finally slumped against you, his entire weight pressing into your chest.

You grinned. Victory.

“…You are watching the Premo concert reruns with me as compensation, though,” he grumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, amused. “Fine, fine.”

And that was how you ended up in Idia’s room for hours, marathoning concerts.

And if you showed up to class the next day completely wrecked from lack of sleep?

It was fine.

As long as Idia was happy.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia is above petty emotions.

He is the Prince of Briar Valley, an ancient being of immense power, the strongest fae in existence—he does not succumb to something as trivial as jealousy.

…That is what he tells himself as he watches you, once again, being hopelessly kind to people who clearly do not deserve it.

He watches as you nod along to Crowley’s latest absurd request, despite the fact that everyone knows that the headmaster is little more than a well-dressed menace with a penchant for delegating all responsibility to you.

He watches as some random student—a student who has never once acknowledged your existence before—approaches you with a bright, eager smile, undoubtedly about to ask you for yet another favor.

And he feels a peculiar, simmering sensation coil in his chest.

Malleus is not petty. He does not get jealous.

But he does dislike seeing you taken advantage of.

So, before this interloper can even get a word out, Malleus simply appears by your side, materializing in that eerie, seamless way that only he can. His presence alone is enough to make the student stumble back in terror, but then—just to be certain—he reaches out and takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours with casual ease.

The effect is instantaneous.

The student goes pale. Their entire body stiffens, eyes darting between you and Malleus as if calculating whether their life is worth whatever ridiculous request they were about to make. The answer, apparently, is no, because they immediately spin on their heel and flee.

Malleus watches them go, his expression carefully neutral.

He usually dislikes the way people fear him. But today?

…Today, he finds himself rather pleased.

Satisfied, he turns back to you, fully expecting you to be grateful for his intervention. Perhaps a soft smile, a quiet "thank you," maybe even a fond squeeze of his hand—

Instead, he is met with your grin.

That knowing, teasing grin.

The one that says you know exactly what he just did. The one that says you know he is not as above jealousy as he claims to be. The one that says, without words, oh, so you’re feeling possessive today?

Malleus pointedly ignores it.

“Come,” he says smoothly, giving your hand the lightest tug. “Let us go somewhere… peaceful.”

You let him pull you along, but not without looping your arm around his and leaning into him with unmistakable amusement.

Malleus pretends he does not notice.

Masterlist

I need some teasing romantic fluff, can I request the housewardens reaction to being pulled into a random room by their lover and being smother with kisses. Please and thank you 💖💖

Kiss And Make-Out

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] dormleaders

- [𝐩:𝐬] suggestive themes . mentions of making out ofc

Note: Honestly thing took me shorter than I thought it would to write Lol. And I tried my best to not make it extremely suggestive... But I then realized I have free will and just made it regularly suggestive.

Riddle Rosehearts

The hallway was quiet, lined with the dignified wallpaper and polished wood of Heartslabyul’s east wing. Riddle was walking beside you, dutifully listing the upcoming events for the next dorm meeting, when you suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Wait—what are you—!" he sputtered, blinking rapidly as you tugged him into a nearby, empty reading room.

The door slammed shut behind you. Bookshelves stood in neat rows, sunlight streaming through high windows. But you didn’t give Riddle a chance to take in the room. You spun him to face you, pressing your body close, your hands already cupping his cheeks.

“[Name]!” Riddle gasped, eyes wide, ears turning red. “This is highly improper—”

You kissed him before he could finish.

His breath hitched as your lips met his in a flurry of soft, passionate kisses—one on the lips, another on the cheek, then two more down his neck. His back gently met the shelf behind him, a soft thump muffled by his uniform. He stood stiff for a second, flustered beyond belief, but then…

"...You're being completely unreasonable," he mumbled between kisses, although his hands were now resting on your waist. "I can't focus when you do that."

But he didn’t stop you.

Your kisses moved down to his collarbone, and Riddle squirmed just a bit. His face was a flaming red now, his breathing shallow. You could feel the way his heart was thudding under your fingertips as you ran your hands through his soft red hair.

“I’m trying to behave…” he whispered.

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you replied sweetly, stealing another kiss from his lips.

Eventually, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a quiet, surrendering sigh. “Only you could get away with something like this…” he muttered, arms now wrapped around your waist. “But if Trey walks in, I’m blaming you.”

Leona Kingscholar

You knew Leona was headed back from Spelldrive practice—his shirt clinging to his broad chest, his hair tousled, golden skin glistening with sweat. You had timed it perfectly.

As he turned the corner toward the dorm hallway, you jumped out from behind a tapestry, grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“Tch—what the hell—”

You dragged him into an unused music room, slamming the door behind you.

“Oi, herbivore, are you trying to start a fight?” Leona snapped, eyebrows furrowed, tail lashing in confusion.

But your only answer was kissing him hard.

The snarl caught in his throat immediately vanished as you caught him by surprise, hands sliding up his toned chest, lips moving over his with soft, heated insistence. For a moment, he stood stock-still, blinking, your kiss leaving him dazed. Then you kissed the corner of his mouth, then under his jaw, and he let out a slow, very audible groan.

“You really woke up and chose chaos today, huh,” he muttered against your lips.

He let his bag drop with a thud. “You could’ve waited ‘til I showered, but nah, you want your king like this?”

You nipped at his lip playfully, whispering, “I want you like this especially.”

That was enough.

Leona’s hands gripped your hips with a growl, spinning you and pressing you back against the wall, kissing you with fierce hunger now. His tongue brushed yours, his fangs grazing your lower lip as he kissed you harder, deeper. His tail flicked behind him, betraying his rising desire.

“I should punish you for ambushing me like that,” he murmured against your ear, voice gravelly.

“But I won’t.”

His smirk was dangerous and lazy all at once.

“Not yet, anyway.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had just finished another long meeting in Mostro Lounge. You waited until the twins had left him alone in the hallway before you struck.

“Azul, can I borrow you for a second?” you said sweetly, tugging at his sleeve.

“Ah, certainly, my pearl—wait, where are we—?”

You pulled him into a supply closet of all places. It was dimly lit, a little dusty, but private. Azul looked around in confusion, pushing up his glasses.

“I—is this about the contract I was drafting—?”

You didn’t answer. You kissed him.

The poor boy short-circuited. He froze as your hands slid into his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp. You kissed his lips, then his cheek, then the underside of his jaw, and he visibly shivered.

“[Name]—w-wait—why now? I-I didn’t prepare—!” he stammered, glasses askew, already blushing violently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again, long and slow this time. Azul's knees buckled slightly, and he caught himself by gripping the shelves behind him. His breath was trembling as you ran your fingers down his sides.

“You… you’re going to kill me,” he whispered, eyes wide behind his fogged glasses. “This is too much for a man of my constitution…”

But even as he said that, his hands found your waist, gently pulling you closer. His lips brushed your ear.

“I suppose I shouldn’t complain about having such an affectionate girlfriend…”

You smiled. “You love it.”

“…Don’t tell the twins.”

Kalim Al-Asim

You caught Kalim just as he was coming down the golden staircase in Scarabia, humming to himself, all sunny and unbothered. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you.

“[Name]!! I was just about to look for—WHOAAA!!”

You didn’t let him finish. You grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the nearest room—one of the spare guest suites with gauzy curtains and sun spilling in through the arched windows. He stumbled in after you, laughing the whole time.

“You’re so full of surprises today—ACK!”

You tackled him onto the cushions, landing right on top of him with a mischievous grin. Before he could ask anything, you started kissing him—peppering his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and his lips with kisses so fast he couldn’t even catch his breath.

“Wha—mmf! Wahahaha—[Name]!! Wait!!” Kalim laughed uncontrollably, trying to catch your hands in his. “You’re kissing me too fast—I’m gonna pass out from happiness!!”

You finally paused just long enough to look down at him. His white hair was a little messy, his golden eyes gleaming, his face flushed and grinning like the sun itself.

“Was that all for me?” he asked breathlessly, cheeks glowing.

You nodded and leaned in again, kissing his lips a little slower this time.

He melted under you like butter on hot sand.

“Wow,” he murmured, now dazed. “You’re… amazing. I think my heart just did a triple somersault. I should throw a party just to celebrate this moment!”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You really would, huh?”

“Of course!! I’ve never felt this lucky in my life!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was walking briskly through the upper halls of Pomefiore, hair and uniform immaculate as ever, when you stepped directly into his path.

“Vil,” you said, breathless and determined.

He arched a single, elegant eyebrow. “Yes, darling?”

Without answering, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a side hallway, then pushed open a door into one of the unused dressing rooms. The full-length mirrors and velvet furniture gave the room an intimate feel—one Vil would usually approve of.

“What exactly are we—mmph!”

You shut him up with your lips.

You kissed him firmly, again and again, ignoring his stunned stillness. His back lightly hit the vanity table, and your hands found his jaw, tilting his head as you kissed a path from his lips to his cheek to that spot right below his ear.

Vil sucked in a sharp breath.

“[Name]… this is hardly a—ah—suitable location…” he said, voice breathy despite himself.

You kissed down his neck, and he gripped the edge of the table hard enough for the wood to creak.

“…I’m trying to remain composed,” he hissed, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re ruining my lip gloss.”

You kissed him again, slower this time, tasting the faint berry gloss on your lips. “I’ll buy you another one,” you whispered.

His hands finally slid up your arms, resting on your waist. His expression softened, pride melting into fond exasperation.

“You’re so bold when you want to be,” he murmured, brushing his forehead against yours. “But you should know… if you keep kissing me like that, I might not let you leave this room for a while.”

Idia Shroud

You had to be sneaky with Idia—if you startled him too hard, he’d vanish into a puff of blue flame and digital pixels.

So when you saw him walking back from the library with headphones in and Ortho floating behind him, you waited until he was alone—just outside the server room in Ignihyde.

You pounced.

“AHHH—SYSTEM ERROR, WHAT THE—?!”

You yanked him into an empty tech room and closed the door behind you. Idia stumbled backward, hair flaring slightly blue with panic.

“W-Wait, are we being chased?! Is this a boss battle? Did you glitch through reality again—?”

You didn’t let him finish.

You kissed him. Right on his startled, slightly parted lips.

His brain blue-screened.

Idia’s body stiffened like a glitching NPC. You kissed him again, this time on the cheek, then again, trailing little kisses along his jawline. His hoodie bunched under your fingers as you leaned into him, holding him close, while his hands flailed in the air like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“M-M-M-M-Moe overload—emergency shutdown imminent—!!”

You giggled and pressed a softer kiss to the tip of his nose.

That seemed to reboot him. Slowly, his shaking arms wrapped around you, awkward at first, but growing tighter as you kept going. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Are you real? Like… for real real?”

“Very real,” you said, kissing him one more time.

He leaned into you then, forehead pressed to your shoulder, still flustered but clinging to you like you were the only stable thing in his world.

“…You’re OP,” he mumbled. “Totally broken character build. It’s unfair. Nerf girlfriend pls.”

Malleus Draconia

It was late evening, just after sundown, and you spotted Malleus walking alone through one of the lesser-used halls of Night Raven College—moonlight catching on his horns, his cape flowing behind him like royalty incarnate.

“Malleus!” you called, jogging up beside him.

He turned with a small smile, the kind that he reserved just for you. “Ah, my love. What fortune brings you to this path?”

Without warning, you grabbed his hand—cool, calloused, always gentle—and tugged him through the closest heavy oak door. The room was empty, dark except for the faint shimmer of magic-laced torches. Dusty furniture and a grand window gave it an old, castle-like feel. Perfect.

“Where are we going?” he asked, tilting his head. “Is there danger?”

You didn’t answer. You pushed him back gently against the wall and kissed him.

His eyes went wide, not in shock, but in the quiet kind of awe that only Malleus seemed capable of. You kissed his lips, then his cheek, then the pale stretch of skin along his neck. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pulling him closer, kissing him again and again—slow, soft, reverent.

“Dearest,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion, “your affection is… overwhelming.”

You kissed the tip of his jaw. “Is that a problem?”

“…Not in the slightest.”

His voice dropped low, velvety and deep, as he rested his forehead against yours. “You wield power greater than most—did you know? Not in magic, but in how effortlessly you undo me.”

You smiled and kissed him again, this time slower, and something in him finally gave way. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as his lips met yours again, more certain now, more claiming. His kisses were intense and unhurried—like time stopped for you and him alone.

“If this is what it means to be mortal,” he whispered between kisses, “then I never wish to be a god again.”

⤷ ✧ Christmas

Gender neutral

- order 66 | shorts | NRC students

Note: Merry Christmas!!

“Hey, Prefect, C’mere real quick I wanna give you something. Merry Christmas!~ Look what I got you. Huh? No, I picked this out all by myself. You underestimate me sometimes. Anyway, where’s my gift? You don’t have one? Seriously, you’re so unprepared… and rude. How about instead you do me a little favor.”

It’s a small pedant with a red gem and golden lining. It looks like it could be a keychain or a phone charm or some sort. When you look closer at the back of it , you could see the name Ace Trappola and your own engraved.

- Ace Trappola

“Um Prefect. Sorry to stop you so suddenly you see I… Merry Christmas! I wanted to show my appreciation for you since you’re been a reallygreatfriendandtobehonestIdidn’tknowwhattogetyousoIjustgotaring—. Ah… Sorry I’m just a bit nervous. Oh don’t worry about getting me a gift. A-are you sure? Well there’s one thing I want. Could you give me a kiss?”

It’s a silver ring with a blue gem in the shape of a small star illuminated light. Oddly enough, it fit your finger perfectly. How did he know your ring size?

- Deuce Spade

“Hi hi! I’ve brought a gift for my favorite freshman~. Open it! Here and right now! Heheh it’s cute right? I bought us a matching pair. When we click it together then it’s a heart. Super cute! I saw it on MagiCam and I’ve been dying to match with somebody. But I wanted it to be someone special like you! So, what about my gift? You don’t have a gift? Hm that’s alright, you know all I want for Christmas is you… Okay, okay sorry! But for real, let’s take some pics together. That’ll be my gift.”

It's a really cute Lego necklace! The one that connected with another to form a cute little heart. It’s popular on MagiCam for its simple yet adorable concept (way over priced too).

- Cater Diamond

“Wow it’s pretty cold, isn’t it? Okay I’ll quit with the small talk. Merry Christmas, enjoy! My younger siblings helped make it so sorry if it’s a lil messy. The toppers? Oh those were supposed to be us. Honestly I thought it was just some random clay blobs my sister put on top. Oh I don’t expect a gift back. I just wanted to repay you for helping Riddle. W-well, if there’s one thing I wanted it would be for you to come visit my family’s bakery.”

It’s a small cake. The colors seemed to be added at random making it colorful. The frosting job was done by experienced hands and the most noticeable thing was the two cake toppers. They stood close to each other, holding hands.

- Trey Clover

“Good day. I’ve got something for you for the holidays. Merry Christmas, enjoy. In truth I wasn’t sure what to get you. It’s nothing special but… Thank you. You’ve changed a lot in my day to day life and everything has only gotten better. …I hope to be someone w-who is worthy of you… Oh no, that was nothing.”

It was a fountain pen. You could tell it was well crafted and meant to be used professionally. It had a red ribbon around it and came with various inks in different colors.

- Riddle Rosehearts

“Good morning. Um… I got this for you for the holidays and such. I know it’s not a lot but I at the very least wanted to give you something. I thought you might want this since you seem so amused by my wolf form… W-what? You’re naming it after me? You’re honestly… Nevermind that, you don’t need to get me anything. Your time alone is enough.”

It was a cute little plushie of a wolf. It didn’t look like Jack at all, a bit disappointed. It was actually quite large and squishy. I wonder where he bought such a well made plush?

- Jack Howl

“Ah man… I can’t believe I’m doing this. You better be grateful or I’ll take it right back. Here, I’m supposed to say Merry Christmas or something I think. It’s actually really irritating to give anything of mine away, well technically Leona paid for this since I took some of his money— whatever. You seriously can’t tell? It’s a survival guide for all your teachers and the tricky students. I worked real hard on this. But it’s not for free, hand over the payment. You have no gift? I’m not leaving empty handed or on an empty stomach. You’re taking me out to a donut shop or something, okay?”

A simple guide of the staff at school. Mostly just your teachers and how to deal with them. There’s also tips for dealing with housewardens. Impressive…

- Ruggie Bucchi

“There you are. It was a pain to find you. I can never find you when I actually need you. Merry Christmas, I don’t really care to celebrate but still. Don’t act like I’m incapable of being a good person. I don’t see why I wouldn’t get you a present. Hm? I’m Leona Kingscholar, do you really think I’d get you something cheap? Appreciate it, herbivore. I don’t really care if you have something for me or not. H-hey, let go of me. You don’t need to hug me.”

It was real gold. Small hoop earrings with hearts engraved into it. Along with it was a thick jacket. You’ve seen the brand before, most of its products cost up to 400,000 madol and higher?!

- Leona Kingscholar

“Oi, I’m right here. Don’t try to just act like I don’t exist. You’re so cute when you give me the cold shoulder but this is serious talk… MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Hahahahah! Here, take it. It’s not like I planted a super lethal device in there that’ll hurt ya. It’s just a pair of shoes. Those ones you got now are awfully beat up. Honestly, I think you deserve some new laces too. Huh? You don’t got a gift for me? That’s unfortunate, and rude. Those shoes costed two fins and a gill. If you let me squeeze ya real tight I’ll consider it even.”

A nice pair of shoes. It even came with the receipt. It wasn’t wallet breaking but more than you could ever afford. But for the quality, it was an absolute steal. Floyd has always had good taste in shoes.

- Floyd Leech

“Ah, there you are. You could already guess why I was looking for you. I’ve brought a gift for the holidays. It’s only good manners to bring gifts to the ones I appreciate. Do you like it? I grew it myself. It looks an awful lot like the poisonous flower Mountain Laurel but worry not. It’s only a look alike I mistakenly planted. They do smell quite lovely, don’t they? Oh, you don’t have a gift in return. I supposed that is to only be expected. No matter, how about you do me a favor instead?”

A gorgeous bouquet of flowers. It was light pink with a very faint but lovely fragrance. They seemed to be healthy and growing well, before it was plucked.

- Jade Leech

“Oh, Prefect. I’ve been looking for you all across campus. Th-This may be a bit bold of me but would you like to have dinner with me? All expenses will be paid by me. It's my gift to you. What was that? Y-yes, call it a date if you want. Oh but I have one thing for you. I know it’s rather pathetic but it has its own charm. Thank you, I used to make these a lot as a kid. My mother loved them. B-but anyways it’s at Mostro Lounge at 8 PM tomorrow.”

(After saying his goodbyes and walking away, Azul proceeds to hop up and down and spin around out of pure happiness and joy.)

Besides the invitation to dinner, he gave you a small bottle full with sand and seashells. Each shell was a different color, he seemed to pick them out very meticulously.

- Azul Ashengrotto

“There you are. Happy holidays. I-I’m not awkward. Actions mean more than words, don’t they? Sorry if it’s not really what you wanted. I just figured you might need it. No need to thank me. I don’t really celebrate Christmas actually. I spend more time picking up Kalim’s wrapping paper than anything. Don’t laugh… You’ll do me a favor? I’ll save that for later I suppose. I’ll keep you to that.”

He got you a set of culinary tools. Forks, knives, spoons, pots, and pans. It was a bit heavy but you never realized how much you actually might need these.

- Jamil Viper

“Merry Christmas!~ Are you having a good time? I hope you get lots of presents and a lot of hugs. As for me, I got you something. I know I should’ve gotten you something better but Jamil insisted that you would like something less “extreme” in his words. Oh really? Well I was actually gonna give you a bunch of gold jewelry but if this makes you happier then okay!! I know you don’t have a gift. I know what you could give me though. Hehe! It doesn’t count if you don’t hug me back.”

It was a turban very similar to Kalim’s. It had more of a floral design. You’ve never seen anything like it. It was most likely a custom design he commissioned.

- Kalim Al-Asim

“Prefect, wait up! I can’t really hide it. Merry Christmas. Be careful, it’s a bit heavy. Actually, I’ll just hold it for you. Whaddya mean? I’m always nice. My bad if I get worked up bunch. I probably needs to work on my temper. I’m actually never mad at you. It’s okay, it’s not like it’s anything special. It’s just some apples from my family farm since I didn’t have anything nice to give. Heheh, thank you. I’m sure mah meemaw and peepaw will be happy ta hear!”

A small bin full of apples. There’s a container at the top of the mountain of apples with slices cut into the classic bunnies. How cute!

- Epel Felmier

“Oh, Trickster! Please spare a moment of your time. Merry Christmas, it would be my first Christmas with you and your first Christmas away from your home world. I give you my blessings and gifts. Please, take this. It’s a good luck charm. It’s quite the symbolic piece. I’ll always be with you, love.”

It’s a charm with words written in an unknown language. You could only guess where it came from and yet it gives a sense of familiarity. On the back, you noticed a piece of paper with writing. It seemed to be a poem written with great passion and endearment.

- Rook Hunt

“I found you, Potato. I can never send to find you when I actually need to. Yes, happy holidays to you too. This is what I’ve got for you. I’m always working towards a perfect serum and I believe I found just that. Your skin has been without a glow, almost as if you wash it with a plain bar of soap… I’m sure this will fix it. As well as the regular face wash and cream, it works on both dry and oily skin, What is it made of? You don’t need to know. Use it daily and you’ll start to see results. Now, what did you get me? Nothing. That just won’t do. I suppose the only thing you could offer to me is your service. Come with me Potato, you and I will spend lots of time together.”

The original Vil Schoenheit skin care set. Epel and Rook have the same set but you have the newest formula Vil has created.

- Vil Schoenheit

“Ah! There, I finally found you! Isn’t this exciting? Christmas is especially fun this year because of you! So I’ve got you a gift, here you go. What is it? Well it’s everything I suppose! Smoke detector, alarm clock, carbon monoxide detector, security camera, and a night light if you’re afraid of the dark. It runs on battery, if it runs out then just come to Ignihyde! Don’t feel bad, I don’t want a gift anyway. The best thing about Christmas is giving to others!”

An alarm for almost everything. Did Ortho make this or was it something used at STYX? Either way, you’re grateful.

- Ortho Shroud

“Oh my god… it’s almost like you were avoiding me on purpose. I looked all across campus like a maniac. Um, I have a Christmas gift for you. I know you probably won’t like it anyway but enjoy I guess… I bought you one since you seemed so interested in mine. I even bought a few games for you so we can co-op together. I’ve never spent so much money on a Christmas gift before. I kinda want it back so maybe it’s best I leave before I take it back— Eh?! Why are you hugging me?”

It was a console recently released. Idia brought it with him when he would attend classes in person which sparkled your interest. He played various games and bought you a copy of those along with the console. He just can’t keep his hands off those video games.

- Idia Shroud

“Hmph, Christmas already? I have a gift for you, of course. You are one of my closest friends. What is you ask? It’s a pastry well known in Briar Valley. They say this was the Thorn Fairy’s favorite food. It’s not too difficult to make. I used to make it with my family’s years ago. Now, what about me? Hm…? Have you no manners?! Oh, I apologise for the outburst. I understand your situation. No gift is necessary.”

It’s a medium sized pastry. You could see the filling gushing out with the fruit decorated at the sides, some fruit was cut into the shape of hearts, stars, and little lightning bolts.

— Sebek Zigvolt

“Good morning. I guess it’s not morning anymore but nonetheless— Merry Christmas. I got you something. It’s nothing special but I saw it at the store and I thought of you. It’s quite cute isn’t it? What’s that? I don’t need to get a gift back. It’s better to give than to receive in my opinion.”

It was a throw blanket with a pattern of stars and bells. It gave the vibe of a childhood fairytale story.

- Silver

“Merry Christmas! Sorry, it’s always fun to scare you like that. I’m actually quite the Santa believer. He’s a really nice guy for giving all those gifts to all the kids. I was friends with him years ago. That was a joke, of course. I’m not Santa but I’ve brought you a gift. Ta-da! I got Malleus one and he’s been all over it. It’s simple, just take care of it like a real pet. They die real easily but I believe in you. Huh? You don’t have a present for me. Waaahh… You’ve hurt my feelings. Heh, it doesn’t matter much to me. You still have time to make it up to me,

The cutest tamagotchi! It’s the same brand of Malleus’ with a different design for the shell. It really is adorable, you can see why Malleus is so charmed by it.

— Lilia Vanrouge

“December 25th, the holiday you would call Christmas. It’s customary to buy gifts for one another as a sign of care, as I've been told. I’ve brought something for you. Do you like it? You look quite beautiful with it on. It is a bit sharp so be careful. Human skin is so fragile. Oh… You don’t have a gift for me. No, that’s alright. Wait, you’ll take me out to dinner? That's a rather bold thing to ask. Human courtmanship, correct. Heh, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

(He teleports back to Diasomnia and buries his face into his pillow and kicks his feet causing the whole dorm to shake like an earthquake.)

A necklace with a dragon of some sort hanging off of the silver chain. It was well crafted. You could bet Malleus loves it because it looks like a gargoyle,

- Malleus Draconia

Me, My Partner, and My Three-Foot Tall Nephew

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Fic Idea • Me doing whatever my witch boyfriend wants / Me, my boyfriend, and my three-foot tall nephew

Summary • Leona is usually pretty docile when it comes to you. You can do almost anything to him and at most he'll crush you and use you like a pillow.

Who says romance is dead?

But all romance is tossed out the window when you side with the enemy. He will not tolerate traitors.

Alternatively • You help Cheka disguise himself as a mini Leona and the original discovers your plan before you can steal his jacket for authenticity

…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ …ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ …ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

When Leona wakes up and feels you stripping him of his jacket, he assumes it is just you borrowing his clothing again.

After your transition, it was tricky to slip into sleeved clothing, so you often stole his jacket while he was asleep before running off to do who knows what. This sneaking of clothing isn’t new at all. Is it annoying because you are disrupting his nap? Yeah. But you put up with his shit so what can he do but put up with yours?

It is when you start tugging his shirt up that he feels the need to swat your hand as your fingers are cold.

“Leave it.”

... Another tug.

He grumbles. “What are you, a raccoon? Paws off.”

Leona’s amusement at your small indignant huff is short-lived when he hears a familiar giggle in the distance. He cracks open an eye. “Why do I hear Cheka?”

Your hands are hovering over him, posed much like a raccoon who is preparing to dip its paws into a dog’s food bowl. Hands slowly dropping to your sides, you lean back and sit on your legs. Closing the pages of a thick book, you shove it away from you, causing a crashing sound nearby. “No reason.”

“Where is Cheka?”

“What's a Cheka?”

“...”

“...”

He closes his eyes.

“...”

Up he goes.

You grapple him by his waist as he jumps to his feet with nothing but a simple ab crunch to pull his body upward— causing you to get dragged as you try to hold him back with all your dead weight. Unfortunately for you, he has long since proven he can lift you with ease. Were it not for your sympathy for beastmen's heightened sense of hearing, you would likely be screeching unintelligibly as you slink along the ground with each of his thundering steps.

“Cheka isn’t here!”

“Get your mitts offa me ‘less you want skin burn.” He trudges forward out of the door of his room to the rope bridge stairs that lead to the ground floor of the lounge.

“I’m honestly offended you’re able to drag me.”

“Get on my level, now, where is the brat?”

You look to the side with a huff, closing your eyes and ignoring his question. Not that he really needs you to answer, he can sniff out the kid from a mile away.

Well, if he wanted to, and in this case, he does.

When he reaches the ground floor, he notices a wall of students blocking something from his sight. It is obvious that this is where Cheka is, if not because of the meat shields, then because of their nervous whistling and the small, muffled giggles behind them.

Leona glares at the students, not stopping for a moment as he marches forth, dragging you behind him.

“Outta my way or get snapped.”

They all look sheepish as they shuffle aside to make a path for him, rubbing their necks and muttering apologies as they scoot out of the way.

Now, Leona is expecting a single Cheka. One Cheka, because he can still remember the horror of facing a horde of nephews after a misdirected spell from a first year.

What he doesn’t expect is to see the younger version of himself wearing his shrunken uniform while Jack Howl sits on the floor next to him with an expression that can’t settle on amused or ‘I want to go home’.

At the sight of his bandana around Cheka’s neck— looking no better than a bib— Leona pats himself down and inspects himself.

He hadn’t noticed it when he woke, but he is missing his necklaces and bracelets.

Looking down at the raccoon clinging to his waist, Leona narrows his eyes and grabs you by the back of your jacket before you can scurry off.

“Don’t even think about runnin’, your endurance is shit.”

“I have an opinion about that.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna try the backstroke in a sand pit?”

“... Suddenly I’m feeling so non-partisan.”

“’s what I thought.” Turning his attention back to his nephew, his favorite, only nephew— thank the Seven— he nods to Jack. “How’d they rope you in?”

“I have two siblings.” The white-haired teen shrugs non-committedly, allowing Cheka to try and spike his hair without any fuss. The acceptance is starting to make sense...

“Noted.”

Finally acknowledging the brat who wears his face, which makes acknowledging Cheka as a brat very... conflicting... Leona whistles, not unlike the signal one might use to call a dog. Works just fine though, the kid looks up eagerly, ears perking up as the attention of his uncle is finally on him.

“Unca Leona! I look just like you now!” Cheka announces proudly, his hands on his hips as he puffs out his chest, his expression beaming.

Leona has little fodder to use this time around, as the brat is literally a mini mirror of him.

“Yeah... you’ve never looked better, kid.”

He is going to smother you in your sleep later for your muffled wheeze.