WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE

I AM LITERALLY GOING TO CRY U REBLOGGED MY WORK AND UR TAGS ARE SO SWEET OMG 😭😭😭😭😭 U HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME (im sleepy-yet-intruiged!)

HI SLEEPY!!!

OFC I REBLOGGED IT, YOU WRITE REALLY WELL!! like that's your first writing???? it's very good, I like the formating a lot and the sweetness appeals to me (fluff lover)!! don't worry about characterization too much, you'll get the hang of it as you write more requests, so focus on having fun!! you're doing great, keep it up <33

❤️❤️❤️Happy Birthday Riddle❤️❤️❤️

…please come home :’’’)

You know. Sometimes there is some fluff in my head that I want to draw. My sister sended me that pun….it’s her fault. Also since the anthology it seems that he likes puns so-

umbra.

summary: You offer your blood to a wounded vampire in an alleyway, and now Ruggie can’t seem to leave you alone.

notes: 1.9k, fic, cw for violence, a short fic about Ruggie for @ridhearts​ fantastic vampire au!!

Ruggie hisses as he rips out a chunk of wood lodged in his shoulder, throwing it down the dim alley he’s currently hiding in. 

Stupid vampire hunters, thinking their stakes would be enough to take him. Those things were about as effective as a sharpened pencil, and yet the hunters never learned. It’s not like getting stabbed repeatedly was fun, though it was far easier to deal with than the other weapons the hunters liked to carry around.

As soon as Ruggie got his hands on whatever human thought it would be cute to try to sabotage their monthly exchange by ambushing the Savanaclaw coven with the hunters… well, he’s certain some of the more restless coven members would appreciate having a human to chase down and tear to pieces. Ever since they implemented the deal with the neighboring town, giving blood in exchange for residents no longer fearing leaving their houses after dark, some of the vampires had been complaining about how boring it was to no longer hunt–

Footsteps. Ruggie’s ears twitches as he sits up, wincing. He isn’t in any condition to deal with more threats, not with all his wounds. He hadn’t been able to kill all of the hunters, so have they come back to take him down for good…?

“Are you okay?”

Continuar lendo

VAMP AU - basics vii.

So, you want to know about the Diasomnia Coven? Well, good luck finding anything out. They say this coven has a living history, and reliable documentation is difficult to find, let alone any vampires themselves.

CW: blood, death, stalking/hunting, religious imagery, dark/obsessive/possessive characters. this au is not NSFW, but it does deal with darker content and sometimes discusses sensuality and sensual topics. reader discretion is advised.

overview. ❧ heartslabyul. savanaclaw. octavinelle. scarabia. pomefiore. ignihyde. {diasomnia.}

The Diasomnia Coven isn’t really a coven at all (if it was, it’d beat out Pomefiore as the oldest) - it’s a small group of vampires living just on the edge of the barrier between worlds, an offshoot of the realm where most of the true vampires reside. The future keeper of all vampires has been in mourning for thousands of years, and the others keep watch over him while maintaining a balance between both the realms. There is an abandoned village with a forgotten and decimated stone castle, miles and miles away from any humans, where they reside. The mourning keeper insists there are memories that play within the village when the circumstances are just right…

Nobody knows much about these vampires, and very few humans know they exist. They’re a sort of urban legend among the vampires though, both turned and true vampires whispering every little detail they have about the mysterious brethren living in an untouchable forest. Legend says that the Diasomnia vampires are more powerful than even most vampires within the vampire realm, and they’re awfully shrewd, too. Rather than hunt humans, they trick any who dare come close to their cursed forest to follow them to their lair, where the human is then hypnotized and used for a food source until they die. If vampires ever have to tread near the forest, they always go on an empty stomach, hoping to reduce their chances of being swept away. Many do not return.

…This is all a fabrication, of course. (These vampires just like to play a few good-natured tricks, and the vampires die often in the forest because they purposely deprive themselves of food and there are no humans around.) The truth is much more sad, and is halting the progress between the realms as well as endangering the balance of magic. But vampires are stubborn, and it’s hard to shake a man from mourning when condemned himself within sorrow for eternity.

Continuar lendo

Ok i raise to you though jade when he crushes talks to his mushrooms about said crush as well as maybe azul and floyd on occasion send help to them cause he probably doesn’t stop

HI ANON!! I'M. SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS RN. YOU'RE SOOO RIGHT!!!!!

he'd have a very soft smile and his eyes would look so gentle as he'd whisper about something his crush did that day... such a vulnerable moment...

tho when he talks with Floyd and Azul, I feel he'd be bragging about them? like, still with his mushy feelings yes but in a less vulnerable lovesick way and more in a "my crush is so cool look at what they did, bet you wish you had a crush cool like that too huh" way. because he's a little shit like that. Azul and Floyd know how much affection he holds for them from the sheer amount of times he's mentioned them in conversation in the past two hours. they are planning an intervention asap.

the most reaction ever

HAPPY BDAY RIDDLE ILYYY

I'll give him a bouquet of red roses and a little kiss as a gift

[Valentine's first spring - Riddle Rosehearts]

Summary: Autumn passes by, with winter following closely. You stay, keeping his heart safe. You stay, and Riddle craves you more than anything in this world.

Notes: gn!reader, fluff with a bit of angst, riddle's mother is it's own warning, wrote this in like an hour while listening to Valentine by Laufey and First Love/Late Spring by Mitski

The wall was red. Not too vivid, to not hurt the eyes to look at, but not quite light enough to be pink. Riddle remembers clearly, the hours of staring at it, locked in his bedroom, marked it in his memory, burnt a hole and stayed at the back of his mind. Sometimes, if he closes his eyes long enough, he feels as if he's staring at that wall again.

As a child it felt agonizing. He stared and stared and stared, trying to will his brain to keep quiet for a little while, to stop thinking. He never managed to do that, not like the other kids, who always looked so cheerful, without a care in the world, only thinking about the present moment. Riddle wasn't like them, he never was. His brain didn't look at the wall and wondered about what the next episode of a cartoon would be or what sweet he would eat next or what prank he'd pull with his friends.

No, he wasn't like these misbehaving brats, his mother told him so. He thought about the exercise he couldn't get right and his mother's disappointed frown. What should he do to be better? He didn't want to be burden, the least he could do was get a simple exercise right. Other times he would think about the high grade he got on his latest test. His mother looked pleased then. Not happy, she was never happy, not around him. Perhaps if he only put more effort into studying, if he followed the rules, if he did everything as she told him to, perhaps then she would smile and tell him he did a good job. She loved him, she told him so. It just didn't feel like it, sometimes.

After meeting Trey and Che'nya, he stopped looking at the wall for a while. He was happy, he couldn't stand that reddish color anymore, nor his stray thoughts. He met a blue sky and green on the streets and the world was full of color. He bid the wall goodbye for good. 

Even so, he missed staring at it when his free time was taken away from him. Back when he still could, his mind would rest a little and he could pretend he was doing it out of his own free will, not because he didn't have any game to play or any non academical book to read or any candy to snack. The books were nowhere as comforting as that familiar red shade. His chest ached. He wondered if that was what love felt like.

After his overblot, Riddle was lost. He was thankful for your help, for you stopping him from commiting even more mistakes and making him see how he was doing things wrong. Still, he couldn't help but resent you a little for opening his eyes, forcing him to leave the comfortable zone he was in.

He was taught to follow the rules, since it was the right thing. Naturally, everyone should do the same. Have their mother's never taught them how to behave? Riddle could do the job, put everyone in line, make Heartslabyul follow proudly in the Queen of Hearts' steps.

But the rules weren't always right, human nature was a complicated thing, there would always be exceptions. He couldn't expect everyone to act like him when they weren't brought up the same way. He should have been more considerate to their feelings, stopped to hear their justifications before collaring them mercilessly. 

Riddle had never wanted to be a tyrant. He only ever had wanted to be a good ruler, someone his subordinates can count on.

He continued to be lost as he stared, alone, at the cooking book's instructions. Trey was so kind to lend it to him, even after all the mess he had made, even after everything he had put him through. He still smiled at Riddle and tried to help, in his own way.

Riddle wanted to cry, then. He wanted to apologize over and over, to thank Trey until he couldn't talk anymore, to ask why didn't he stop him sooner, why did no one tell him he was wrong, why did his mother mislead him so? He felt like a child, so small and pathetic. A lost child, at that. He refused to let the tears fall and only thanked Trey politely with a strained voice. From his firend's pitying smile, he could tell Trey saw through his façade easily, but didn't comment on it, letting him save the last bits of his dignity.

Wallowing in self pity wouldn't fix his mistakes nor get the tart done. He should get started as soon as possible and follow all the steps perfectly to bring a most satisfactory result. Although he couldn't find the measures for the secret oyster sauce Trey had told him about. 

There's a sudden noise at the kitchen's door as someone enters, surprising him. Riddle turns around, not expecting any company, much less yours.

"Prefect. Have you forgotten something here?"

"No, I didn't. I wanted to see you, actually."

There's dread in his gut and his hands tremble slightly. He's not sure how to act after the stunt he pulled, after he had put you in danger on your first week, after he broke down crying in front of everyone. Perhaps you're here to demand a better apology or to mock him. So be it, he'll take it all gracefully.

"Oh? What for?"

"I want to help."

There's a soft smile on your face, determination shining in your eyes as you roll up the sleeves of your uniform and look around for an apron.

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Your smile turns into a playful grin and you let out a victorious sound as you put on the apron you found laying on the corner. 

He's baffled. What were you talking about? Ace made it very clear he should do this alone to prove he was truly sorry for his past actions.

"I'm... not sure if I understand."

"Well, it's just that I didn't want to leave you alone after... uh... everything." You make a motion in the air with your hands, as if it would be enough to sumarize the whole disaster that had transpired. "You don't have to isolate yourself, you know. You can count on us if things get too tough."

There's a strange lump on his throat and he swears he has stopped breathing. What were you talking about? Why were you being so kind to him, of all people? You haven't even known each other for that long and he has only caused you trouble the whole time.

"Also, I had a lot of fun baking with the guys! I want you to have fun too! The more, the merrier, and all that."

You walk to his side in order to look at the book, all smiles and confidence in a pink apron. He stares at you in shock, scooting away as soon as your elbow makes contact with his. He feels tingles on the place, as if your touch could burn. You pay him no mind, reading carefully the list of ingredients. 

"Alright, sounds easy enough. Let's get started, then!"

"Wait. You don't have to do this. I don't need your pity, prefect, I can handle myself just fine."

Riddle wants to slap himself as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but he couldn't let you help. He needed to this alone, that's how he's always done things. Your stare makes him want to scream in frustration. He doesn't understand it, it isn't the disappointed one his mother gave him, nor the pitiful one from his dormmates. If he looked long enough, he would have concluded it was an understanding stare, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I don't pity you, Riddle. You knew what you were doing and you deserved to hear those things from Ace."

His breath hitches and he's never felt so ashamed before. It feels worse than a slap, to have the truth thrown at him like this. His actions mocking him, his own faults tightening the collar around his neck.

"Still, I can see you truly regret it. And it doesn't feel right to just leave you alone. Don't get me wrong, you're not my charity project or anything. It's just... I understand how hard it is to start again, to try to be better. And it's so much harder when you feel like no one is by your side."

Like an open book, Riddle feels you can read every line from his being, that his thoughts are yours to pick apart. Is he so obvious? He feels rooted in place, a poor fool waiting to receive his sentence at your mercy.

"You're not a bad person, Riddle. I can see that. So, let's start again, together."

Your smile looks too much like the light at the end of the tunnel, like some sort of salvation. His chest expands and contracts again as his breathing resumes, he gulps the dryness out of his throat and blinks firmly, holding the tears in. Suddenly, he doesn't feel as lost as before.

You extend your hand at him, expectantly. How could he deny that? Sparkles fly on his skin as your hands touch, the gentle feeling like nothing he's ever felt before. How did you manage to make him feel like he's floating, like everything will be alright, like there's a shock running through every single bone of his body?

"Come on, we've got a tart to do!"

"Yes. Let's do this." He can't control his facial muscles, a little smile forming on it's own.

Only after both of you had gathered all the ingredients did he remember something.

"There's just one more thing."

"Yes?" Your attention focuses solely on him, head tilted slightly and he feels at the top of the world to have you looking at him like that.

"We don't have any oyster sauce."

The cute inquisitive expression falls from your face, a carefully neutral one taking it's place, making him fidget on his spot, worried he might have done something wrong. He truly didn't want to ruin things with you, not when everything has started to feel right again.

"Why would we need any?"

"Trey has told me it's an unlisted secret ingredient that all the finest bakers use..."

He watches, mesmerized, as your expression cracks, a giggle leaving your lips, followed by another and another until you're full out laughing, eyes crinkled so hard they're almost closed, teeth exposed and chest heaving, pure joy flowing through you. It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

Still, he's not sure if he should feel hurt or offended that you're laughing at him. He settles on confusion, not wanting to jump into conclusions.

Once you've calmed down enough to speak again you explain, between giggles sweeter than sugar, that it was only a joke Trey had pulled on you as well. 

The embarrassment creeps up his spine and makes his face blush, cheeks warming up. He would have been mad, had it happened a few days ago. And yet. Your happiness is contagious, making a laugh break out from him, joining the chorus with your melody. 

It feels so silly, laughing together in the kitchen like that, but he's not lost anymore. The air is comfortable once more and it feels sweet on his tongue, it feels like home.

As the time passes, you grow on him, you make a place for yourself in his life, to the point he can't remember how he's ever lived before you.

You study together, you listen to all his explanations attentively, he answers any questions you might have, you make sure he's taking breaks. You take him on walks around the campus, hand clasped in his. You rope him into snack runs, sharing with him a piece of whatever you're having.

You give him hugs without asking anything in return, your arms open and oh so inviting, so alluring. You tousle his hair when you're feeling playful, fixing it gently when he complains. You give him a kiss on the cheek when you're proud of one of his accomplishments, loudly congratulating him.

He's never had this before. No one has been this affectionate with him, so openly and unashamed. No one has treated him like he's precious, like you do. 

Riddle craves you. He has never desired something so fiercely before. He has never had the chance. 

The next best thing he could compare the feeling to was to a strawberry tart. Not any strawberry tart, but Trey's parents' bakery's strawberry tart. Whenever he gazed at the window he would see it on display, the red color calling to him. His mouth salivated just thinking about how it would taste should he take a bite of it, the sweetness exploding on his tongue. Maybe he could satiate the aching whitin him, fill that empty hole and feel happy. Then, his mother's voice would play on his head, reprimanding him for even thinking of consuming that amount of sugar. He'd look away, ashamed, but the red strawberries would always pull his eyes to them again, like a magnet.

Whenever he saw you, he felt the same ache on his chest, but stronger. A yearning to see your smile, to feel your warm hands against his, taste the most delicious red from your lips. Just from having your attention on him it felt like lady bugs dancing on his stomach, making his heart accelerate, face flushing. He craves you, more than any strawberry tart in the world.

It scares him. He's never felt like this, never felt this strongly for anyone. He's still young and sorting his life out, he doesn't even know what he wants to become without his mother's overbearing demands. He's figuring himself out, getting lost in the maze of his feelings. He's always acted older than his age, always complied to his mother's desires, and now he feels younger than ever and he's scared.

Riddle wants you to like him back, desperately so. Still, he can't bear to imagine you saying you love him. The thought leaves him breathless, his chest aches and aches and aches for you and he doesn't know what he'd do without you.

Autumn passes by, with winter following closely. You stay, keeping his heart safe. You stay, and Riddle craves you more than anything in this world.

The fresh breeze of spring brings forth the scent of the flowers scattered across the garden. Riddle can hear birds singing at the distance and the sun's warmth settles pleasantly on his skin, warming up his bones. It's as if the flora has come to life, buzzing in excitement for the season.

There's nothing prettier than your smile directed at him, nothing else that could make him feel like he's lost control of his heartbeat.

Your hands are behind your back and you have a spring in your step as you stop right in front of him. You ask him to extend his hand and he does so, watching intently as one your hands takes his and brings it to your lips, tenderly pressing a feather light kiss on the back of it. His eyes are blown out, his lips drying and heart running wildly.

"These are for you."

A bouquet of flowers in red shades is given to him, your other hand making contact and holding his. A smile blooms on his face, stretching his red cheeks as a loving sigh leaves his mouth. 

"Thank you. They are lovely."

"Just like you." You wink playfully, sticking your tongue out a bit and letting go of his hands. He has to stop himself from reaching out again, missing your warmth terribly.

Riddle clears his throat and motions at the other side of the small round table he's set up. "Please, have a seat."

You do as he says, admiring the decorations he's prepared. Between the red and white roses of the garden, the two of you share a cup of milk tea and a strawberry tart. The conversation flows naturally, telling each other how your days have been and how things are going. Riddle could listen to you all day, every story you have to share captures his interest as easily as you've captured his heart.

It's such a domestic scene, the two of you. Riddle thinks that's what love must feel like. Like a warm embrace, or like the sweetness of the tart melting on his tongue, or like your smile. Not like a red wall and a disappointed frown.

The sun sets in a hue of reds, the sunlight creating a dream like atmosphere between yourselves. The way your relaxed face reflects the colors makes Riddle feel full of affection. He's content, he realises. He wishes he could share a million other moments like this with you, a million other springs.

"It's beautiful." You comment, breathless. You're not looking at the sunset anymore, though. Your gaze is on him and only him, as if he's the most important thing in the world. "You're beautiful." Your voice is filled with sincerity and something else, something that makes his heart ache with yearning, something that makes him want to hear you say that again and again.

It feels so much like a confession.

He can't help but blush, red like his hair. He's never had this before, he's not sure how to react. So, he blurts out the first thing he thinks of, the truth slipping from his lips.

"You're beautiful too."

It feels like a promise.

You look surprised, eyebrows rising and mouth opening. He's surprised too. And then you laugh, honey dripping from the sound. You look pleased as you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers and squeezing it gently. 

The table is small, small enough for you to lay your elbows against it and come closer to his face, for your other hand to cup his red cheek and bring his face closer to yours. Riddle is lost in the moment, closing his eyes and tilting his head, his free hand resting against your shoulder. 

As your lips press together, Riddle feels elated. His fingers tremble and grip harder onto you, not wanting to let you go. The kiss is slow and so tender, so sweet. He can taste the strawberries on your tongue, can feel your thumb caressing his cheek. You deepen the kiss and he lets out a whimper from deep within, a sound filled with sheer want. He lingers over this moment, wanting to commit it to memory, carve it on his soul.

You pull back, separating your lips. Riddle chases after you, wanting more, needing more. You giggle and nuzzle your noses together, such an innocent act that it feels more intimate, somehow. You've got his heart on your hands and you hold onto it with the utmost care, so much so that he can't feel himself ever regreting this. If he could, he'd like to kiss you, and only one, for the rest of his life.

"Riddle." The way you say his name is soft, not breaking the moment. "Will you be my valentine?"

He opens his eyes and traces every inch of your face, his hand moving to the back of your neck and pulling you closer. He gives you a chaste kiss, trying to satisfy his craving enough to be able to get the words out from his throat without choking on it.

"I'd love to, if you'll have me."

Your answering smile is exactly what he needs. Your lips connect again, it feels a lot like love.

Masterlist

CHERRY 😭😭😭 DON'T BULLY ME

(sorry the poor made edit) I just realized something...

twst first-years as your roommate!

♯— what if you were roommates? sebek, jack, ace, jack, epel ortho. ortho’s = strictly platonic

cw: gn!reader, crack & fluff, pining, sfw, unedited.

notes: i’m just emptying my drafts. i think sebek is funny and i love him so much but i would NEVER live with him… likes and reblogs are appreciated!!!!

𖧷 sebek zigvolt

• “malleus, oh malleus! you are truly illustrious, and above all benevolent! i pledge my life to you! I KNEEL BEFORE YOU MY KING!!”

• new drinking game. take a shot every time sebek says malleus

• you wake up every morning to sebek chanting to his malleus portrait like he’s truly standing with you in your room. you don’t need an alarm clock when you have him bellowing at 5AM. you press your pillow against your ears but to no avail. you can still hear him, he’s that loud!!

• he literally kneels down to the painting as if he’s getting a knighthood (he’s practicing for the future, okay?)

• tells you that you should also join him and prostrate yourself before his lord… if you tell him to shut up he will look at you with an incredulous expression as though you’re the crazy one. are you silencing him, and in association, lord malleus? your insolence besmirches you!

• if it gets too much for you he starts whispering aggressively instead, offended: “FINE.. ( •̀ - •́ )”

• sebek spends a long time getting ready. so if you’re running late in the morning, you’ll want to beat him to the bathroom.

• it’s because of his hair... he’s styling that thing with an abundance of gel. your bathroom cupboards have so many products for his hair there’s literally nowhere for you to put your things.

• it’s crazy because he would look so much better with his hair down. when you tell him that he refuses to believe it, stating that all the elderly in briar valley love his current hairstyle.

• he wastes 10 minutes alone hyping himself up in front of the mirror. flexing his muscles, practicing his smile, dimpling his cheek with his fangs. he rehearses saying “salutations, lord malleus!” or “hello, dear human!” but if you catch him in the act he’ll deny deny deny as a pink bursts across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

• he’s a bookworm, and that’s probably when he’s the quietest. yes, he’s quieter with his nose in a book than he is sleeping because he’s a sleep talker.

• ⇈ if you’re interested, sebek will recommend you some good pieces of literature!! he’s also really helpful if you need help with similar things in class. he annotates his books neatly with sticky-notes and highlighters, so if you ask nicely he might be gracious enough to let you skim over his hard work.

• in return, if you’re good at subjects like maths, please assist him. numbers and him are like oil and water—they just don’t mix. he’ll be so grateful, he might humbly tell you a story of malleus’ childhood

• you have to save sebek from lilia’s antics. he once told sebek balancing books on his head whilst sleeping standing up would help him become more resilient, so at night he would just be standing in the corner of your room… menacingly... it was honestly frightening.

• you thought he’d fall over and crash onto his desk, having to physically drag him to his bed and tuck him gently each time he tried. he never once made it through the night. yes, he tried several times.

• pretends the whole situation never happened. it was his lowest point.

• sebek always makes sure you’re eating well, since he’s a big eater himself. when he’s feeling particularly chivalrous, he’ll get himself extra food just to lend you some, a coy smirk playing against his lips when you thank him.

𖧷 ace trappola

• ace has a basketball hoop on his side of the room. he likes to practice his trickshots often, so he’s probably hit you several times with it when he misses. which is often.

• imagine you’re just walking into your room after a long day and—thwack!—you’re getting knocked out. he will laugh at you before pulling you up and making sure you’re actually okay. i’d be worried he has a vendetta against you or something.

• ⇈ says “it’s your fault for standing there”, pressing a hand against the point of impact tenderly.

• standing where??? in your own room??? where it’s supposed to be SAFE???

• makes a mess all the time in the bathroom. probably leaves toothpaste in the sink and water on the floor. he’s going to make you have wet socks and then he’ll roll his eyes when you complain.

• you have to push him to clean it as he feigns innocence. “maybe it was you and you’re just blaming me!” “just clean the toothpaste, ace!”

• he flicks tap water in your face.

• when it comes to doing laundry he makes you play card games with him. whoever wins has to deal with it. he is a cheater and proud! he’s doing whatever he can to win and grinning like the chesire cat the whole time as if you’re not already aware of what he’s up to.

• you have to force him to do his homework. he just so happens to always forget. but wait! you’re here! you’re instantly now his study buddy regardless of whether you wanted to or not. it doesn’t matter how smart you are, he’s always trying to copy your answers.

• when it’s late at night and he can’t sleep, he’s texting: ‘u up?’ to check if you’re the same. if you don’t reply he literally pads up to your bed and looms over you. he puts his face inches close to your yours and whispers your name because he never believes that you’re truly sleeping.

• brace yourself for a lot of late-night kitchen runs. he’s grabbing your hand and racing with you down the halls, telling you to hush and pressing a finger to his lips when he’s the one stomping and giggling outside riddle’s room.

• don’t worry, he doesn’t eat anything he knows is his housewarden’s. he doesn’t try to get collared, you know. then he practically steals someone else’s lunch (the ‘someone else’ in question being deuce) and then shares it with you.

• you get caught every time, ace’s stomping waking riddle up. he doesn’t even attempt to protect you, claiming it’s not stealing because it’s going to a good cause—your ‘date’.

• he’s only ever joking about the date thing. he just likes seeing your reaction.

• …but if he wasn’t joking, hypothetically… would you agree it’s a date?

𖧷 deuce spade

• he’s trying so hard to be a good roommate to you. he really is!

• at first, he tries to impress you with his full bookshelf. in an attempt to turn over a new leaf, he borrowed a ton of magic related from the library but he’s only read one

• every time you walked into the room he frantically grabbed a book from his shelf and opened it, placing a finger on his chin to suggest that he was deep in thought.

• “what’s gotten you so interested, deuce?” “oh it’s nothing. just a book about…psychology and stuff. really emotional. yeah.”

• intrigued, you approached his side only to find out he’s reading a children’s picture book. upside down.

• each time he thinks back to that moment he is filled with so much shame. whenever you bring it up he slaps a hand to your mouth with a shout, overly flustered. he’s always been honest about himself after that.

• he’s another messy guy. overall? he’s clean—but when he eats he leaves a lot of crumbs behind on his bed and himself. you have the urge to wipe them from his cheeks all the time. this could be reiterated for all the first-years except ortho, though.

• deuce excitedly shows you pictures of the latest blastcylces (he has posters all over his side of the room) and tells you all about his bleached hair days. he even lets you try on his blastcycle helmet and jersey. has a picture of you in it and treasures it as ‘a reminder to not go rouge again’

• you study together but the pair of you always get distracted by having silly little side conversations. one second you’re talking about pythagoras; the next, it’s a passionate discussion about what animal you’d be if you were reincarnated in another life.

• he moves around in his sleep a lot. he goes to sleep spread out like a starfish and ends up on the floor, bedsheets half-on him and the worst bed-head ever.

• you have to fix his hair in the mornings for him. he’ll barely be awake, sleep still in his eyes as you’re patting his head to keep the stray hairs at bay. he’ll lean into your touch but he won’t remember doing it till halfway through the day.

• ⇈ he’ll just be in the middle of flight class, randomly think about the proximity of your faces, then almost falls off his broom. ace laughs till he cries.

• when he comes to your room wounded he appreciates how you ask him if he’s okay before asking what happened. when it’s the other way around, he always rechecks your state even though the school doctor patched you up fine and deemed you well enough.

• he calls his mother often to make sure she’s okay, and you’ve gotten more than acquainted with her.

• she loves you and thinks you’re a great influence for deuce. she’s even happier that he’s made some friends!! she’s always gushing about how she’s proud of him, or asking you to come over with in the holidays.

• “deuce, when you come home bring your lovely friend okay? i like them.”

• he agrees without hesitation, because he can’t deny her wishes—and he likes you, too.

𖧷 jack howl

• your room either smells like sweat and the mens body spray he uses or caramel scented candles that he swears his younger brother and sister bought for him.

• it’s mostly the second option, because jack is good with hygiene and also doesn’t want to make things uncomfortable for you. (his side of the room is very clean, and he takes pride in that, so if yours isn’t he’ll tell you to fix up very bluntly.)

• he’s very perceptive and values personal space, so he’s thoroughly checking to make sure you’re comfortable. will give you space and alone time if you need it.

• he’s got ‘motivational workout quotes’ framed and hung up on his side of the room

• gives you a similar one for your birthday, in order to give you motivation for the rest of the school year. he’s given one to all the first years, even ortho, so you’re not special or anything.

• yours is just slightly bigger.

• from far away it looks aesthetically pleasing, contrasting nicely with all the greenery from the plants he’s raising (he’s a plant mom)

• then you get closer and read: “Train The Quit Out Of You.” “Single Taken At The Gym.” “In This House, Only Hard Work Matters.”

• he goes on morning runs, so he’s out before you can even open your eyes. sometimes, he leaves you notes behind wishing you a good day, since he’s not much of a texter even though you’ve exchanged numbers. sometimes you’ll find notes around the house just saying some words of encouragement.

• if you’re awake, he might ask you to join him. but it ends up being him running out of earshot so fast you lose sight of him. he’ll be running back as you’re still on the first stretch, out of breath. he’ll try his best to wait for you to catch up, though…

• ⇈ you might not enjoy it as much as he is but he’ll be really thankful that you came along anyway. you don’t even have to run if you don’t want to, just sitting and watching him somehow gives him a newfound burst of energy.

• as a reward for sticking with him, he’ll make sure you’re well fed. not that he doesn’t do that already; jack sits next to you, the two of you sharing a plate of breakfast together as the other first-years just share a look like (·•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ )?

• you often find him talking to his cacti. his tone is so soft it’s endearing, conversing as though they’d speak back before watering them. in fact, you find out more from him speaking to the succulents than you do when he’s actually talking to you.

• it’s not that he doesn’t talk to you. he does!! but the conversations are always short because he’s too busy trying to hide the wag of his tail and twitch of of his ears.

• you speak to his cacti, because if jack truly believes it will benefit them you also want to help. he’s so fond of them. when he finds out you’ve been doing so, he tells you that he’s sure they’re standing stronger and looking healthier because of you <3

• he lets you name them

• Congratulations. you are both now Plant Parents.

• it might take a lot of convincing but if you can get him to cuddle with you in his wolf form you will get the best sleep ever. he’s super fluffy, which makes him really cosy to lean on and snuggle up to.

• ⇈ but you both tend to oversleep and end up late for classes whenever you do it. jack scolds you for it because he doesn’t want to be a troublesome student, but he won’t deny you when you ask again.

• everyone’s convinced you’re dating.

𖧷 epel felmier

• why are there apples everywhere

• the saying ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’ doesn’t apply to you! an apple a day is bringing you closer to the doctor. (epel has boxes of apples for his carvings. they’re overflowing, causing apples to spill out onto your floor creating a trip hazard.)

• he seriously doesn’t mean to make mess but the apples just keep on coming! at this point you both have enough apples to keep you going for at least a good few months—but you’re not a allowed to eat them.

• okay, fine, you can have one… or two..

• pomefiore’s bedtime is 10pm, so both of you share the struggle of hiding that you’re awake. you’re both chuckling under your own bedcovers, messaging each other on your phones with your brightness at the lowest setting: ‘is he gone yet? u check’

• vil will be standing in the doorway, hands on his hips waiting for you to peek your heads up. he knows what you’re doing.

• you keep doing it anyway until vil threatens to split you up.

• the two of you will try to stay up till early hours of the morning doing anything and everything. on one occasion you tried to juggle with apples, ending up hitting yourselves in the faces. it left marks.

• plenty of times you’ll send epel a funny video of something or the other and he’ll double over in laughter, wheezing so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear you. your phones get confiscated for a week.

• he’s on his best behaviour now, he swears! and you are too—you know vil only sets specific guidelines for you to follow because it will benefit you both in the long run.

• if you’re injured, epel will tend to your wounds skilfully. he’s been in more than a few accidents being a wild child, and also knows a lot about medicinal herbs and magic pharmacy. arguably does a better job than school staff.

• when he’s injured, he’s rushing back to show them off to you like battle scars. look at the the one on his knee, quick! he stood his ground and won, isn’t he cool? (it’s absolutely tiny and will definitely fade away. he wants to be leona so bad)

• he always lets you see the process of his apple carving and even gives you lessons. he’s delighted that he gets to teach someone something he learned back in his hometown—it’s not much of a big deal, but whenever someone shows interest in it, his chest puffs with pride.

• and when it’s you specifically complimenting him and harveston, he’s super smitten.

𖧷 ortho shroud

• ortho is only just finding out about himself, exploring his tastes and developing his own opinion. (he’s really glad he can share these self-discoveries with you!)

• idia is Not Happy that his brother is being stolen off him, but wishes ortho well nonetheless.

• you will never be late to class from now on because he will wake you up on time. and don’t think about skipping or faking illness, because ortho can see right through you.

• asks how your day has been after school because he genuinely cares. he wants to know everything! school is just so fun to him. he’s so happy about going to class that you start to feel guilty for dreading them. he’ll tell you about his day too, very elaborately. you might be sitting and listening for a while because ortho does not miss a single detail.

• ⇈ you somehow end up finding out what scarabia resident B did last summer with his family, though you’re sure it had no relevance to ortho’s magic history class at all?

• asks you to take pictures of him around your room, literally even if it’s a mundane activity. half of your camera roll is just images of ortho studying. he also wants to take lots of pictures with you, so he can keep the memories he spent his first real roommate fresh in his mind forever, so say cheese!

• you make a bucket list together so he can check things off along the course of his life. you take him out to places he wants to go, and he helps you in return. need questions answered? he’s got the best results at the fastest speeds. hungry? he’s flying off to sam’s store. your preferences are already stored in his memory system, so expect something yummy when he returns!

• he gets very attached to you very quickly, and perhaps even a little protective. if you’re ever going to do anything reckless ortho is sitting you down and telling you the pros and cons, success to failure ratio and extra precautions you should take.

• as he’s only ever lived with his brother and never really had friends for himself, ortho is still used to idia’s social recluse/anxious ways. you could be ordering over the phone and if the person on the other end of the line mishears you ortho is suddenly speaking up for you very angrily.

ortho: excuse me they asked for NO. PICKLES. 😡😡

• introverts love him. fast food branch owners fear him. the ice cream machines won’t be ‘broken’ on ortho’s watch.

• if someone’s bothering you, just tell him. he won’t hesitate to dox a bully or two online. he learned from the best. NOT afraid to resort to physical attacks. has a high-intensity laser beam ready to fire whenever you need it.

• ortho is not rainbows and sunshine all the time. he’s a nrc student, after all.