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evanrouge · 9 months

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Confessions

Summary: Idia confesses his love to you.

A/N: Third one shot finished! I was very sick with a summer cold while I wrote this so I hope everything makes sense. I also got very carried away with the banter and so I had to cut some dialogue to keep it to my desired work length. I hope someday I can share those deleted scenes with you all~!

Confessions series: Rook, Kalim, Idia / AO3

Your steps hit the pale marble flooring with singular purpose. Their crisp echoes spin away from your feet, only to ricochet off of towering columns and scatter up towards a vaulted ceiling. The hallways of Ignihyde are empty and bright, lit up by informational monitors and the mysterious hum of technomancy. The air inside the dormitory is pleasantly cool and feels almost sterilized with its lack of scent. You stride past countless rooms, ignoring the few rare muffled conversations that seep out from under the occasional door.

You stop at a door identical to every other door you’ve passed so far. Reaching out, you briskly knock on the door and announce, “Idia! Open up! I’ve got an emergency!”

A few beats of silence tick by before you hear the sound of reluctant, shuffling feet moving towards you. The door slowly creaks open, just barely wide enough for a single, morose yellow eye and one half of a radiantly pale face to peer out at you.

Wordlessly, you hold up your smartphone for Idia to see. Its current state could be best described in just one word: annihilated.

Idia swings the door open completely and stares down at the remains of your phone in abject horror, sputtering, “What the-! How-? What were you trying to do?! Vaporize your phone or something?!”

Handing over your former communication device, you step into the room and tiredly reply, “Several crucial mistakes were made today. Can you fix it?”

Idia’s face breaks into a wide, smug grin. He closes the bedroom door with a prideful scoff and boasts, “Like that’s even a question. Can I fix it? That’s undeniable! Too EZ. I could fix something like this with both eyes closed and my hands behind my back!”

You make your way over towards a tall bookshelf on the far side of the room and grin back at him, “Well that’s good news for me then! I’ll be over here perusing your manga collection while you get to work.”

Idia sighs wearily as he sets himself down in front of a worktable covered in various tools and hardware. “So business as usual I guess,” he mutters gloomily but from the corner of your eye, you manage to catch sight of the smallest of smiles flashing across his face.

As Idia sets up the necessary materials and begins his assignment, you trace your finger down the length of the bookshelf, scanning titles and making future reading selections. An interestingly named one catches your eye and you carefully retrieve it from its place on the shelf. With today’s selection in hand, you amble over to Idia’s worktable, seat yourself in a comfortable chair next to his, and begin reading.

Several minutes of easy silence pass by, periodically punctuated by the ambient sounds of lightly clicking repair work and the soft turning of pages. The two of you continue your parallel activities in this way for a few more minutes before you suddenly hear a short, quiet laugh from Idia.

You glance up curiously from your reading and ask, “Something funny?”

Idia does not stop or look up from his task but he smiles softly. He admits in a slightly bemused voice, “I was just thinking that this feels nice. This familiar scene, with you reading next to me while I work on a project. I never thought I'd get so comfortable with you barging into my room whenever you wanted."

You raise your eyebrows playfully and ask in a gently teasing tone, “Oh? So does that mean you used to feel uncomfortable with my visits?”

Idia turns his head to face you with an exaggerated look of retroactive disbelief and exclaims, “Understatement of the century! I was definitely super uncomfortable with your interruptions in the beginning and I believe I distinctly remember telling you to never come back on several separate occasions.”

“Yeah but you let me back in every single time afterwards,” you quip back with a self-satisfied grin.

“Well, of course. You wanted to read my manga,” Idia states frankly as he turns back to his work. “I don’t lend out my books to people I don’t know super well. If I don’t know your reading style, then reading my books requires my direct supervision!”

“Well you know my reading style now,” you say gesturing broadly to the careful and considerate way you hold the book you are currently reading. “Do you trust me enough to lend me a book now?”

Idia seems to suddenly freeze at the sound of your last question. With a hand poised elegantly in the air, clutching a small tool, he would look every bit like a beautiful statue if it weren’t for the slight flickering movement of his soft blue hair. Turning with almost excruciating slowness, he takes the book from your hands in a gentle and deliberate action and grabs a nearby bookmark to place inside before finally closing and placing it face down on the table.

Idia turns his chair so that his body is completely facing you but his eyes are cast down and to the side, still on the book. A breath of silence passes between the two of you before he finally speaks in a carefully measured voice.

"I do trust you. I completely and utterly trust you. But I'll never lend you any of my books because I want you to keep reading them here next to me."

Idia turns his head and looks into your eyes. There’s still the ever present, tired hesitation weighing down his brows, but you see something else in his face, never seen before. In his bright yellow eyes shines a fiery determination, fueled by newly realized desire.

You gaze silently into Idia’s eyes, almost hypnotized. An eternity seems to pass by in seconds like this until Idia suddenly throws his pale, thin hands over his face. You blink rapidly in surprise at the abrupt end to the moment. With fingers pressed tightly against his face, Idia’s voice comes out muffled and anxious.

“I need to tell you something really important but it might be kinda cringe? And I don’t think I have the nerve to say it out loud with you looking at me so can you please close your eyes? And also can you promise not to laugh at anything I say?”

Even though Idia can’t see you with his hands completely covering his face, you smile softly at him and state in a reassuring voice, “I promise not to laugh and I’ll close my eyes.”

With your eyes closed tight, you listen to the faint rustling of his clothes as he hesitantly lowers his arms and you hear the slight creaking of his chair, as if he is leaning himself towards you. Suddenly, you feel an ambient warmth on the side of your face and realize Idia has moved in closer to whisper into your ear. A faint feeling like feather softness swipes over your cheek and you think it must be some of Idia’s hair, flickering luxuriously against your skin like incense smoke. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low murmur against your ear.

"When I leave my room, all the whispers I hear behind my back and the stares I see from the corner of my eye... It's like harsh noise and screeching static to me. It’s overwhelming,”

Idia’s voice drops even quieter and you can almost feel his soft breath on your face as he draws a little closer, "But when I'm with you everything goes quiet. When I'm with you I feel safe."

For a few moments, the only sound in the room is the sound of the two of you breathing. The soft sound of air falling up and down weaves over and onto itself almost like calming music. Then Idia lets out a shuddering sigh, the air from his lips brushing over your skin like cool silk, and the silence melts away under his low voice.

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Thinking about you. When I open my eyes in the morning, I immediately think of you. When I close my eyes at night, it's your face I see. I think what this all must mean, what I’ve just now realized, is that I love you."

Your eyes fly open in surprise and you whip your head to the side to look at Idia, acting purely on instinct. His face is so close to yours, the tip of his nose almost brushes against yours. His eyes grow wide and bright from shock but he doesn’t pull away from you. Idia opens his mouth but all that comes out is a kind of strangled gasp. You read the question he can’t seem to ask, written all over his pale and unquiet face.

“Do you love me too?”

#.HAKSNKDJKDNKNDLDNDLDJ #.idia shroud everybody #.the crowd goes wild #.my jaw hits the floor #.my head hits the wall #.i drop to ym knees #.sobbing #.hes so #.sigh

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evanrouge · 9 months

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# when you don't like them back !

TO. riddle, leona, azul, kalim.

c/w: vague mention of alcohol dependency

my thoughts will echo your name

until i see you again.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

riddle rosehearts is a man who does not possess a weak heart. he's someone who's learned the hard way through laborious tasks, a pious student who's vigorous enough to use up all the remaining ink in each and every pen he owns. but use do they all add up to when they're just a faulty, forfeitable protection against your transcendent beauty?

you tore down his walls, stepped into the craven parts of his heart, and became the spring to his winter. and all of that affection that stormed in his head multiplies tenfold when he catches a glimpse at your fleeing figure, illuminated by the flickering hallway lights that shone down on every strand of hair, every footprint left behind, and the sparkle that glimmered in your eyes that makes his heart stop and stare.

he thinks—and thinks, but he doesn't understand how he thinks the world of such trifle actions that sets his heart aflutter. he clutches his chest, achingly, to put a stop to his heartbeat that only resounded through the wounded walls of his body just, and only for you.

the adoration that pines for your touch on his skin, your fingertips padding along the sides of his jawline, all so close yet so far. the painfully horrific confines of his heart that encloses his utopian memories with you, ones where the golden hour that lays onto the horizon of the earth as it disseminates its glory at such right times its uncanny—like you're some other being apart from him.

but god, has he always stooped this low?

what happened to the different monographs regularly bounded beyond the protection of his hands, why are they strewn all over the ground and looked like it's been violently mauled by some beast? why is the lamp on the floor, that god damned clock broken—fragments of glass protruding out from the carpet and all?

he's losing it, and he knows. mother has never taught me any of this, so why—what am i doing now? just then, his eyes meet a stranded shard of glass. his reflection staring back at him, and he starts to sob.

it's useless, everything. no matter how smart he gets, your presence always crawls to haunt him back. he tries to recollect, but it's been long since he was ever vulnerable around anyone. and queen forbid—the sugar cubes he so much treasures doesn't taste as sweet anymore.

in spite of everything, he doesn't let his grades falter. he still consumes the same meals daily, and he continues to act as heartslabyul's destined housewarden, for the betterment of himself and his dorm. but the words 'of himself' sounds vacant, as if they don't mean anything if you aren't there for him, to cloak him in your warmth. and truthfully, he feels bad for his helpless outbursts that are powerful enough to bring even the devil to his knees.

he finally found someone he could have fun with, who he could break the rules for. who he was able to fulfill his lifelong wishes with without the nosy eyes of his mother. did they mean nothing to you, in fact?

nevermind, it's time to stop this useless dawdling and get up to start the day right. another day of being riddle rosehearts, another day of never being good enough.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

he's inebriated in the way you trace the scar around his eye at the crack of dawn, eyes of emerald that fall shut as you make the jagged margins of his life glisten with fervour. being in a relationship was certainly not on his 2023 bingo card.

he's expressed his solid condemnation into having a significant other—'having the hots for someone', as they say, and it's as clear-cut as it is. the thought of being in one sends a rush of bile bubbling up his throat, pushing him to double-over and let it all out. he can't imagine committing and spending a future with someone, no matter how high their royal status is. he finds the decisions dependent in the name of hierarchy nothing more than mind screwing.

and you proved him right. proved him so right that his heart swells with drunken affection which numbed at the tip of his tongue that usually rolled out grimy remarks. you heal him—like vinegar to rust. regardless of how big of a crowd he has, how many brilliant trinkets he was gifted, they'll all pale in comparison to the time he spends with you.

smudged lipstick marks and tousled bedheads has him feeling new, like his faith has been restored and crystallised into something precious—as his hands desperately grasp on to the remaining shreds of his life that he bled for.

but he never expected himself out of all people to descend into the pit of delusion, an immersive dimension that he thought he was immune to. but he's a human with—emotions, after all.

he woke up at the call of daylight, noticing the message on his phone that emerged from nothing into something as quick as he could tell. and it wasn't about his studies—or his family—or whether he had a good rest the previous night. and certainly not a 'good morning' either. your message seemed...too long to be just that.

"just asking...will you be able to get me with ruggie somewhere by the end of this week? i want to tell him something."

his reaction isn't timely, in fact—he leaves it on read for a while to brood over his morning happenings before his expression morphs into something morose. and because of you...?

and as quick as dandelion seeds whirling away, the lion-and-hyena tandem he held so dear to his heart loses its face on the earth. and he can't say that losing multiple people at once was a first.

cheka frets, and falena has to cover his eyes just in time for him as he gives leona a once-over before admonishing the younger with heated disapproval. "what has gotten into you?"

"yeah, yeah. run away." he flicks a hand his direction, and uncorks another labelled bottle once again. if he can't have you—or anything at all, then he'll feed and feed on your tears until they become his own.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

one exchanged smile with him, and you paint his world in a myriad of colours he had yet to see down the darkened expanse of the sea.

you lay his incremental need for approval to rest behind the crevices of his mind, your flawless touches of sparkles that has him feeling like a person who could take on the entire world with their bare hands. and he's devoted—if money means something, you mean millions. if the sky looked too bright for a midnight sight, he'd gladly pluck you out of the billions that dared to shine brighter than you.

he frankly held no opposition to how cheap you may have lived—he'll favour you a job at the lounge as a lounge singer, listening with passionate awe in his eyes as you coat the grounds in layers and layers of euphoria while holding your microphone with a heartfelt grip that captures the hearts of people nearby.

he sees the way you pace back and forth before your weekly gigs on the stage, wringing your hands like how you do in class as you get called up to unveil your conglomerate of ideas, readying yourself for the work and business life. azul has to contain himself before his chuckles dominated the backstage, silly as you may seem. he slowly saunters over to rub his hands up and down your forearm.

"thank you," you beam at him, and tighten your grip on the microphone, like he'd just stabbed a yearslong of confidence straight into your deepest weaknesses.

you're grateful, and you can't wait to finally sing your heart out to the person that saved you through countless sleepless nights where the moon looked like it was about to drop at any moment. he's your salvation—a source of light when you were at your lowest.

you climb up the stage, and sit on the designated stool azul had acquired just for you. every night, day, weeks—he looks forward to the mellow sound of your voice to come mend his trembling spirit, as if he's a pathetic child once again that carved the initials of his enemies onto the sea sand. though, he doesn't miss the faded glint in your eyes being directed towards the crowd, possibly at someone, like passing letters in secrecy.

he arrives at his table along the twins, and waits for you to start.

you giggle, and adjust the microphone until it's in close contact with your lips. "this is for you, jamil."

azul's lost throughout the entire performance. he can feel his glasses starting to slip off, and why does your voice sound a bit off? he hears it, love, forever, the words jumbled up in a single song that brings an ear-splitting sound of ringing up and about in his ears until it shuts out everything else, missing jade's furrowed eyebrows and worried persuasions to take him to the bathroom.

soon after, you hear the indistinct sound of chair legs scrapping across the ground and hurried footsteps reverberating off the walls. he wonders how long it's been since he's made a fool of himself in front of everyone?

he turns the deadbolt to the nearest restroom, slams the door shut, and lunges his body forward towards a sink. it's not long until he hears the door bursting open, before his vision of the sink bleeds into inky, pitch black darkness.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

"hey, hey, you up?" he'd shake your shoulder until you were wide awake, resplendent eyes of vermilion that shone behind silvery streams of moonlight, rivalling each other as if it were ruby and sapphire.

you weren't sold on the idea of a late night escapade at first—given the fact that there was school the very next morning. if your time anxiety wasn't a mountain of a task to get over, you'd interlock your hands with him in an instant with tender-hearted laughter encompassing the area, like two fated runaways who were bound together by the everlasting strings of love. kalim holds these moments close to his heart, as if it's his own treasure trove that nobody could ever get close to opening.

kalim wasn't even aware of the feelings he caught for you until jamil actually took him through a quick rundown of things—for example, how he notices the slight twitch of kalim's hand that ached for the warmth of yours. how he always views you through rose-tinted lens which filled a certain part of his heart that he didn't know that he wanted to fill. he knew there was something deep down that he was missing, through childhood and his teenage years of living with a silver spoon in his mouth.

and you sprinkled him in stardust. he's grateful for all the days where he gets to feel the sun's rays from heaven that hovered over his body that reminds him of your smile that he's so keen to protect. it just tells him that if he gets to live to see the next day, that means he'd get to see you. you make his entire being soar like no other.

despite the provocative whispers that run like water down the hallways due to his upbringing, you still manage to spend time with that airhead that you wish you could love back.

a few people knew he was a lost cause, so who were you to interfere?

you keep telling—convincing yourself that it was his fault that he got attached too quickly. but you can't help but feel a sense of foreboding at the back of your mind as you scrawl down your confession for another being in hot red.

"don't come crying to me when things don't go the way you planned. i've warned you." jamil is there to watch him as kalim scrambles to take out his bouquet of roses that he hid so "skillfully" without you knowing from his locker just in time for valentines day, along with a hand-written letter that he adorned so carefully in hearts.

he had a feeling that you were about to arrive to your next class somewhere about now. but someone else was your priority while you were his. what were the odds?

"don't worry, they'll like it!" and he jogs up to you once he sees you ambling down the—crowded halls. jamil tries to hold him back, but alas.

there's something weird going on with your face. you whisper to yourself to not cringe at the confession that he prepared and presented so widely out in the open, the loving lilt in his voice that continues to strike your heart with hard, unceasing blows. this can't be happening, you should have never spent so much time with him.

you hurriedly push him out of the way and bolt to the nearest class you could find, and he stood there, appalled out of his mind. everything happened in a mere second that the people surrounding the two of you had to process what just happened.

and the whispers overflow like a forgotten tap once again. some laughing and whispering that 'pure-hearted people such as him should've never gotten his hopes up'. or 'what time does he have to focus on love when he'll continue to bomb the next set of upcoming exams?'

and kalim has nothing to say. weird, aren't rodeo clowns supposed to be on old thing by now?

#.i demand #.compensation #.for this heartache #moots!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 10 months

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ㅤㅤ✧ㅤㅤcecelilia -> evanrouge !! <33

#<333333 #elly is writign #very slowly x #how does one even write vil

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evanrouge · 1 year

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To You, Whom I Loved Before. — Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader.

Utterly lonesome at his desk, Riddle remained situated until the early hours of the morn. Spine as straight as a candlestick; almost as stiff as one too, as each waking hour that passed only melted at his resolve more and more. An open notebook lay neatly before him, looking positively unassuming. But if one looked hard enough, perhaps one would notice how he has been torturing the poor thing ever since Twisted Wonderland befell nightfall. Tearing out page after page; after page; after page. Defiling the pad even more every time his letter didn't go his way. Carelessly tearing paper organ after organ, for he will not stop until his written words strike perfection.

Yet said perfect words refused to flutter into his head. It almost rendered him ashamed to even call himself top of the class. If he truly dedicated his life to academics, why is it that his words are failing him now? It had frustrated him to no end, opting him to fiddle with the pen in his hand. The movements were precise and calculated, just is he, but one could potentially notice the subtle clumsiness as it flicked through his fingers. An empty, numbing sense of nervousness flooded through his veins, overtaking him and his vessel completely.

Why is it, just as he finally musters the courage to ask for your new address from Trey, he suddenly cannot grasp the words that he has spent years mentally drafting?!

In a sudden flash of heavy frustration, Riddle screwed his eyes shut tight, throwing himself into the chair's backrest and repressing the overwhelming urge to give up. He has been dreaming of writing this since he was a mere child. Ever since his contact with you was strictly restricted by his mother. He's been way too emotionally invested to just give up now, planning on pouring his heart out onto the page and stepping back to allow you to enact your judgment.

But it has just been so long since he last saw you. How were you faring, what has happened in the time that he has been locked away studying? Have you, dare he say, forgotten his existence entirely? For as much as Trey has attempted to settle his impending nerves, telling him time and time again that you are the same you that he once knew, he was too cowardly to believe it. Those questions still chanted at the back of his mind, echoing, making him doubt everything.

Could he truly rebuild what you once had, right from where you guys left off? Surely, it's been much too long for that.

Intaking a deep breath, Riddle presumed his posture once again, exhaling loudly as the pen's dance slowed to a halt, pressing against the fresh page once again. He kept his eyes clamped tight, merely relaxing his eyelids a tad. Perhaps, it would be best for him to write straight from the heart. So as one hand awaited orders, the other lifted to press lightly against his chest, listening to every word that the beating appendage had to say. Allowing it to soar freely, for his own judgment will no longer censor the words that flow.

'Dear the King of Hearts,'

"You want to be the Queen?" You parroted, surprised. Your once young voice flowing into Riddle's mind with the beauty and grace of a pristine dove. Just from the sound of your voice alone, he could perfectly picture the expression you pulled when you asked that question once upon a time. You didn't gawk at him with judgment at his young self's audacious request. You never did, even as a child you were always exceptionally open-minded. Instead, you looked at him with wide, but kind, eyes.

Trey and Chenya had always leased you the position of queen when you guys played together, allowing you to order them around happily, albeit with a few mischievous mishaps. You stood there, still, lifting your hand to your chin as you pondered. As each second flew by antagonizingly slow, young Riddle's anxiety only skyrocketed. As Chenya slung an arm over his shoulder lazily with a smug look on his face, he was just about to blurt out that you can be the queen instead. But you spoke up before he could, the most beautiful grin that he has ever seen in his entire life coming onto your face. "Alright, then! I'll be the King instead! I will support you through thick and thin, my queen!"

Riddle flushed mercilessly, his visage deeply reddening despite his frantic mental protests. He had prayed to whatever supreme entity would listen that neither Trey nor Chenya would notice it, however judging from the cat boy's laughter increasing in volume, and Trey suddenly piping up with snickers, he knew that they have already most definitely noticed. He was just glad that you, so concentrated on your newfound role, didn't notice. You would have probably mistaken him for being sick, or something.

"So I'm the Queen..." He had muttered, his flustered state refusing to allow him to speak above a whisper. "And... Y-You're the King?"

"Yep!" You nodded so proudly. Shortly after, noticing how unsure his tone of voice sounded. Leaning in closer to him, a soft and considerate wave overtaking your features as you noticed that you took such liberty without his permission. "That is what you wanted, right? If you don't want that, I can be something else—"

"N-No!" He had reassured in an instant, lifting his hands and waving them quickly. The two spectating boys continued to watch the scene with intrigue, barely masking their amusement. "I would like for you to be the King..."

He would have loved for you to be the king.

He would have loved for you to be his king.

For when the queen's unwavering resolve is faltering, it is the king's support that builds it up again. When the queen is fragile, it is the king's turn to step up. To protect the queen, even if not as strong, because together they are strongest.

Riddle opened his eyes slowly, peering at the words that he had written.

But how can the king be aware that the queen is in need of help, when she is unable to formulate the correct words to inform him?

In a swift motion, Riddle tore the page from the book and scrunched it into a ball between his fingers, absentmindedly tossing it down into the overflowing trash beside his feet. He mentally cursed himself for allowing long-dead informalities to cloud his judgment, when it has been so long since he last saw you. What was he thinking? After years, nobody starts a letter like that!

He stared down at the paper bitterly. As if it was its fault for the current predicament that he is in, and not his mother's. Eyebrows knitting together burdensomely, as crimson hues practically bore searing laser holes through it and into the desk. He graced the page with ink once again.

'Dear [Name],'

Or, maybe, 'To [Name],' would be a better fit for this letter's context? Maybe he shouldn't write with such informal-looking handwriting, instead, opt for more joined and rounded characters, like in his letters to home.

Or maybe... He laid his pen down gently on the desk. Maybe he shouldn't write this letter at all.

"Knock knock, Riddle," A voice had grasped the housewarden by the throat and pulled him out of the numbing bath of ice. He craned his head quickly, much too quickly, to face the one responsible. Who just happened to be an, as usual, eerily chipper Cater Diamond gently pushing the slightly ajar door open further. If he noticed that Riddle hadn't received a wink of sleep the entire night, he was skilled at hiding it. "You've got mail!"

"Thank you, Cater," Riddle's back immediately straightened, standing from his seat and approaching the door. He was not aware that he was sat there for so long, to the point where he was even up later than Cater. Swiping the letter from the third year's reaching hand, he came to notice how he didn't recognize the handwriting on the front.

Yet what was written on the envelope had made Riddle freeze.

"No problemo—"

"Thank you, Cater," Riddle promptly repeated himself, much more forceful this time, as he quickly ushered the third year out of the room, shutting the door closed despite the confused protests on the other side. Once the click was heard, Riddle's back was against the wood. His eyes trained on the letter in his hands, which he held as if were some holy document.

'My Queen of Hearts'

Perhaps, even despite the distance, the King always knows. It just takes him a little time to get there.

#my excuse for any unreadability or cringeworthiness is that it's 3am #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #twst x reader #twst riddle #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle #riddle imagines #riddle rosehearts twst #mine mine!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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it's me!! it's me!! WAHH the picrew is so cute!!! <33 but complex hairstyles are so difficult help. azul and idia >:)) they're both there willingly, i promise.

i i haven't anybody to tag nshfdk - anybody who just wants an excuse to join i tag you~ <33

Picrew time!!

Create yourself and your f/o (fictional other)! [Link]

I couldn't decide so I did two. Haitham and Ayato turned out so cute shdjshd *chews on them* (+ also sorta face reveal of me, I guess? lol)

No pressure tags: @zhongrin @silentmoths @ainescribe @x-zho @kaelily @hiraya-rawr @feeblescholarmyass @laireste @baeshijima @snobwaffles @i23kazu @mimi-cee-genshin @intothegenshinworld @dawndelion-winery + anyone who would like to do this as well.

#moots!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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OH!! OH!! OH?!!!!?!

HOLDS HIM SO SO GENTLY.

Ship your moots with twst characters challenge!!!

NO WAY OMG???? im going to have so much fun doing this NOBODYS STOPPING ME

@furoidoleech do i even have to say. DO I EVEN????? DO YOU SEE HIS SPAMS???? every time i click on new posts to check out whoever posted anything like ANYTHING and i see this mf posting about either one or both of the leech twins. IM NOT COMPLAMINING THOUGH HELP ITS SO FUNNYG???? but if i had to choose it would be floyd yall are the cutest!!!!!!!!

@9una LEONAA❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️I SWEAR I WOULD SAY HIS NAME ONCE AND YOUD PISS YOURSELF. but like youknow imagine him comforting you in the darkest times!!!! Whispering into your ear!!!!! patting your head and caressing his thumb into the PALMK ONF YOUR HANDS!!!!!!!!

@tinyletterz i cant stress this shit enough omg U AND FLOYD ARE LITERALLY COUPLE GOALS ITS SO SO CUTE!!!! he would give you the most warmest and tighesgt hugs and sizzle up some of the most scrumptious breakfgast known to man you literally refuse to fo to any outside eatery ever again. I SHIP

@siphoklansan MY BELOVED JAMIL APOLOGIST POOKIE<3333 lets go annoy him TOGETHER /j but seriously imagine teaching him thai???? the dedication he would put in to learn tyour language OMG

@twistedchatterbox jade pewriodt wtf. if your posts about him fdont say anything THEN IDK WHAT WILL???? YOURE SO DOWN BAD LIKE STOP!!!!! (im /j your rambles about him are so so funny its cute ily like both you and him)

@cupids-chamber ok IM GONNA OPUT U WITH RIDDLE???? BECAUSE YOUR THEME AHHSHSHD ITS SO GOOD BUT YEHA OKG he'd treat you so well like?? excusing you when you broke a rule??? he may not be good at cooking but at least he pays his monthly bills!!!!

@anon-love-octa-trio i swear youll see a random twst fan out in the wild and AUTOMATICALLY KNOW WHETHER THEYRE AN OCTATRIO DEVOTEE OR NOT ITS MING BOGGLING. YOU WITH AZUL. IMAGINE THE RESTAURANT DATES. THE KISSES ON THE BACK OF YOUR HA

@cecelilia ik you said youre not picky but IM STILLGONNA CHOOSE IDIA IS THJATBOKAY???? like honestly u two would seem so cute together and he would buy u so so many dorito bags and matcha flavoured pocky (i hc that he likes those flavour AHHHHEKP) AND U WOULD SIT AND CHILL IN THE COOLNESS OF HIS ROOM ITS SO RELAXING

@shrimp-anon I NEED MEDICAL SERVICE THE NUMEBRRF OF OCTATRIO CENTRED MOOTS I HAVE MAKES ME GUFFAW but JADE FOR MY SHRIMP ANON!!!! WE 🤞🤞🤞🤞

#I ALMOST MISSED THISDHF #I AM DESERVING OF THIS HONOR I PROMISE #I WILL BE SURE TO WATER HIM AND PROVIDE HIM WITH ENOUGH SUNLIGHT TO GROW 🙏🙏#moots!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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english isnt my native language mfs when they literally embody the essence of shakespeare

hi. (sorry for my bad english)

#I LEGIT ALMOST CRIED WINOU PLS #moots!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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EVR. — elly. xix. she.

៸៸ ☆ ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑. ) twst masterlist.

៸៸ ☆ ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒. ) genshin masterlist.

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evanrouge · 1 year

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THE IDIA SKRUNKLY PFP THE IDIA SKRUNKLY PFP THE IDIA SKRUNKLY PFP

HE IS. VERY MUCH BABY.

#moots!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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IDIA LOOKS SO CONCERNED LOL

he is attempting to figure out whether you are about to cuddle him or throw him into a puddle.

#anons!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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IT'S TRUE WHAT. ALSO YES OMG ?!?! WE COULD LIKE TOTALLY GUSH ABOUT IDIA TOGETHER HE'S JUST SO. HOLDS HIM GENTLY. OR ANYONE REALLY JSHDF LIKE I'M NOT PICKY AT ALL.

YOUR BLOG IS ALSO SO PRETTY OMG

STOP IT RN??? ALSO MAY I ASK IS IDIA YOUR FAVOURUITW??? I LOVE HIM SM TOO WE CAN GUSH ABOUT HIM TOGEJTER

#moots!!! — 🦋#hello winou darling <333

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evanrouge · 1 year

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i lvoe your writing and shroud brothers/blue theme sm

omg thankyou??! ♡♡ i love you.

#moots!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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Would you do another roommate headcanons with the rest of octovanille

Uh huh, of course! Here you go!

#reqs <3 — 🦋#anons!!! — 🦋

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evanrouge · 1 year

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⌗ them as... college roommates? ver. 2.0.

ft. azul and floyd (separately) — headcanons. by courtesy of anon.

— azul ashengrotto

Let's face it, he probably tried to swindle rent out of you at first. Passionately demanding how hospitable he is by being your roommate, and how you should thank him with like... everything you own.

There is a giant safe in the room and it actually takes up so much space. You aren't exactly sure what he keeps in it, and he refuses to tell you unless you're willing to give up something of dire importance to you in exchange for the information. So you decided that it's just not worth it for a single question. But it is quite funny how, when unlocking it, he sneakily looks around to make sure you're not looking his way, before lifting his blazer like a vampire to cover everything visible while putting the code in and doing what needs to be done. He tries to be secretive, but when you're literally sharing a room with him it's incredibly difficult for him to be so.

He's around you way too much for you to not have dirt on him. He lifted his threats on rent and contracts when you threatened to tell the entire school that he has a cuddle instinct when sleeping, and cuddles the closest thing to him. Which is usually either an alarm clock or a lamp. He just wraps his entire body around the object in a fetal position with the object in the middle. He really doesn't want that information getting out, not even he knew he did that before you took a picture of it to blackmail him with!

He's only ever in the dorm in the very late evenings - if he even shows up at all, and doesn't end up falling asleep in the Mostro Lounge - and when he is he's usually at his desk either reading report after report or studying. He takes his academics very seriously. Also, how else will he create those study guides for the poor unfortunate plebeians?

Other than the desk which he occasionally leaves messy while in a rush, Azul is actually very neat and doesn't make a mess. He seems to have an instinct for when you do, though, even when he's not there. He could have left the room for the lounge while you were still sleeping and still know that you forgot to make your bed when you eventually got up. Not to mention his snooping instinct. If you go anywhere near his stuff, then he's behind you in a heartbeat demanding to know what you're looking for. You almost think he has cameras.

Overall a 7.5/10, perhaps. He's relatively strict, but the second you crack his business persona and wriggle out of his constant contracts talk then you'll just see regular old emotional and competitive Azul every evening.

— floyd leech

I would just like to begin this by saying that I am extremely sorry for all the bullshit that you have to deal with, due to having Floyd as a roommate. Sharing a room with him is similar to being new to childcare, and being given the craziest kid in the universe to take care of on your first day. But every day, and constantly.

He once got bored and thoroughly taped the trashcan to the door, proceeding to slam dunk a tennis ball through the base of it so hard that the entire thing smashed into smithereens at the sheer force. Then he left the mess everywhere and decided to lay down for a prompt nap until Azul appeared to drag him to the shift that he was two hours late for. Only for him to appear back at the dorm twenty minutes later, just after you finished cleaning up the mess because he once again snuck away from the lounge, slinging his entire body weight over the back of your chair and drawing out that you should do something funny to amuse him, as watching you study is hella boring. Then he smashed another trashcan, which he probably stole from another room tbh.

At one point, you and Floyd were going through so many trashcans a week that Coach Vargas personally appeared at your door with a roll of tape, saying that if you guys want somewhere to put your trash at all anymore, then you will have to tape your one back together every time because NRC cannot afford fifty a week for one room. You ended up making a new trashcan out of the tape, a genius idea as he will be unable to smash it, but he could tear it if he really tried. It proved to become an even better idea, because sometimes when bored he now just lays on his bed with the makeshift tape bin on his chest as he colors it in and draws random things on it to pass the time.

You have become a master liar. Azul constantly knocks at your door demanding Floyd's presence, which you would love to ignore and pretend you're not in for, but alas you cannot because Floyd is complaining about the knocking echoing throughout his head, and so you've gotta open the door. Then blatantly lie to his face saying that Floyd isn't there and you haven't seen him since this morning, when he is actually just lazing away. Azul used to be able to see through your lies flawlessly, but over time it became progressively more difficult to tell whether you're being genuine or not, and it annoys him.

It is a common occurrence to wake up to his terrifying toothy grin hovering 1cm in front of you. He finds scaring you just after you wake up funny.

Overall a 3/10 roommate. The only redeeming quality is how he sneaks you free food when you visit the lounge without Azul or Jade noticing. Plus when he brings leftovers to the dorm to eat before bed, he sometimes tosses you some that he doesn't want from across the room. He has good aim, though, so don't worry it doesn't get dirty.

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