Twst Vil X Reader - Tumblr Posts

hey hey sorry to bother you with another request

I'm having a really bad day with anxiety and so I was wondering if you could do a thing about Sebek, Vil, and Leona and helping the reader handle their anxiety/calm down when it gets too intense?

sorry to add more onto your requests and you don't have to do it if you don't want to of course. Anyway take your time and remember to take care of yourself please Mimi

It’s not a bother at all! I’m sad to hear that you’re having a bad anxiety day and I hope that this can bring you some comfort. I’m more than happy to write this for you, Ryker. And yes, I’ll remember to take care of myself too. <3

Brief Trigger Warning, as per the request: This piece includes the reader in various states of anxiety and panic, and describes the beginnings of different kinds of panic attacks.

Sebek Zigvolt, Vil Schoenheit, & Leona Kingscholar Helping An Anxious Reader

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek paused from his studying at the sudden stop of the soft scratching of your pencil on paper across from him. He took in the tense set of your shoulders with a frown, eyes searching your face, only to find you completely unfocused and staring blankly at your homework.

You were spiraling again, weren’t you?

“Human.”

He cleared his throat at your flinching, scooting closer to gently pry the pencil from your trembling fingers.

“Are you alright?” His voice was now softer, attempting to make his volume a soothing murmur. “You’ve stopped working.”

He kept his eyes on you to keep track of your reactions, reaching out to give your hand a reassuring squeeze at the shaky inhale you gave him. When you were unable to give him a further response, throat too stopped up with anxiety, he gently rubbed his thumb against your knuckles to reassure you.

“Is it your classes again?” He glances at your half finished homework, giving your hand another squeeze. “Worry not!” He attempts to offer you a smile, not in the practice of being brightly reassuring like your other friends might be. “Classes are simply another form of training! I’m quite adept at mathematics and alchemy; any help you should need, we’ll cover all your bases together!”

His smile relaxed at your subtle nod, glad to see that you were beginning to calm down. He gave your hand one more squeeze before letting go of your hand to give you back your pencil.

If it is not your classes that you are worried about,” he began, trailing off for a moment before looking back up at you to return your gaze, voice a touch unsure, “I am more than ready to lend you my aid. Whenever you need it.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Vil Schoenheit

You turned a corner, only to find that it was the exact same as the last three you had walked down. The same stained glass windows, the same carpet runner, the same vases and wainscoting in an endless maze all around you. Why hadn’t you accepted Epel’s offer to guide you through Pomefiore before he left for Spell Drive practice? Where was Rook, or even any other Pomefiore student, to ask for directions? Why had you even accepted this stupid errand from Crowley anyways?

Just as the hallway was beginning to stretch before you into an endless tunnel and your breaths were turning into short, shallow, gasps, a pair of hands gripped you by the shoulders and anchored you back to reality by the strength of them holding you close. The hands belonged to Vil, who looked down at you with a frown. His eyes searched your face, brows pinched with the severity of his concern.

“You got lost, didn’t you?”

You could only helplessly nod, light headed and unfocused. His eyes narrowed and he tsk’ed at you, stepping back so that he could wrap an arm around your back to guide you from the hallway and to his bedroom. He directed you to sit on the chaise in front of his bed as he left for a moment before he returned with a glass of cool water.

“Sip slowly,” he instructed. “And match my breathing.”

He sat beside you, placing a hand on your lower back to silently encourage you to straighten up and ease your shoulders as he began to slow his breathing for you to match. His fingers traced idle, nonsensical patterns on your back in soothing repetitive as he breathed in and out with you. He stayed beside you even after your breathing had regulated, eyes on you to ensure that you finished the glass of water.

“Have you calmed down now?” He waited for a nod, and pressed a kiss to your forehead when he received one. “Good. Now, what was this errand you were sent on?”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Leona Kingscholar

You and Leona were seated in Ramshackle’s living room, settled in for a quiet afternoon of friendly chess matches and snacks to pass the time. Or rather, the two of you were trying to do that, but were constantly interrupted by the incessant buzzing of message notifications coming from your phone. Even though your free time in between classes and all the errands Crowley had you running for him were scarce, everyone you had met and aided on campus up til now would constantly be sending you messages in search of your help with menial tasks.

After the tenth message in under a minute had your breath hitching and dropping a bishop, Leona plucked your phone from the table to silence it, exhaling a sigh through his nose. He’d often argue with you sometimes about your proclivity to help these selfish students that took from your precious free time with no regards to you, but today, before he could open his mouth to make a comment on the selflessness that grated on his nerves because it meant you were always putting others before yourself, he was stopped short by the look upon your face.

Your brows were furrowing as you bit your lip in an attempt to stave off a hot flush of tears from overcoming you, arm outstretched as if you weren’t really sure if you actually did want to take back your phone from him to answer those messages begging for your help.

Leona scowled and put the phone down, out of reach from you.

“Stop that. You’ll give yourself a headache,” he admonished, no bite to his words as he reached over and soothed the furrow between your brows with his thumb. “You gotta let yourself slow down. All this runnin’ in circles that everyone’s havin’ you do is gonna make you crash and burn. Got that?”

He waited for you to give him a nod that you at least heard what he said before he pushed aside the chess board to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you securely.

“They’ve been handlin’ everything just fine without you runnin’ around, bendin’ over backwards for ‘em. Today won’t be any different. You’ve earned some rest. So relax, yea? I’m right here with ya.”

(A/N): I hope you enjoyed and that this was able to bring you some comfort, Ryker! I apologize in advance if any of these characters felt OOC.

Hello

Can I ask for headcanons of Malleus, Leona, and Vil with a reader who likes to steal their clothes to wear? Or maybe not even their full outfit just a piece or two? Whatever you feel comfortable with

Thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day

-🌸

Malleus, Leona & Vil With A Reader Who Likes To Steal Their Clothes

(A/N): I’m more than happy to fulfill your request, Cherry Blossom Anon! Sorry it took so long for me to get to it 😅 I’m not as familiar with Leona as I am Malleus and Vil, so I apologize I’m advance if his section seems a tad OOC. I hope you enjoy!

Reader is implied to be the player character/prefect, and the setting is implied to be NRC.

Malleus Draconia

The first time he sees you wearing his clothes, he simply assumes that he must’ve accident left it behind the last time he visited you at Ramshackle and doesn’t pay it any mind. He finds it endearingly amusing, to see you in his clothes.

If you’re flustered when he catches you wearing or stealing his clothes to wear, he’ll most definitely tease you about it. He finds your reactions adorable and his teasing will be light hearted, but merciless.

The more he catches sight of you wearing some of his clothes – a uniform tie of his, his uniform blazer, once you even took his vest - the more he suspects that you might actually be stealing his clothes. His suspicions aren’t confirmed until he catches sight of you wearing one of his shirts.

He finds the whole of it endearing, though he can’t comprehend why you’d want to steal his clothes. Was this a human custom of friendship or courtship? He’d be more than happy to give you some of his clothes if you’d simply asked. (He did not find it amusing that Lilia laughed in his face when he asked him about it.)

He finds soon enough that he absolutely loves the sight of you in his clothes.

He tends to become clingier and more physically affectionate when he sees you wearing his clothes.

Leona Kingscholar

Doesn’t notice any of his clothes going missing. When he catches you wearing one of his perpetually unused uniform blazers, he assumes you picked it up from wherever he left it laying in his room. You had a tendency to complain that he hogged the blankets during naps, you taking one of his uniform blazers to wear to keep warm isn’t the biggest stretch of logic, in his opinion. Why would he assume you’d want to steal his clothes?

He notices when Ruggie complains that Leona’s laundry has been oddly missing a bunch of clothes, despite Ruggie keeping a tight maintenance of all of Leona’s things (he gets paid to look after him, after all, and he doesn’t do his job half-assed. There’s service fees he can charge extra.)

Unlike Malleus, he has just enough emotional intelligence to put two and two together that you probably take his clothes because it reminds you of him, and this means that he’s someone important to you. Cubs and pups do this all the time with their loved ones, after all. This knowledge leaves him incredibly smug the first few days after he realizes it, but he won’t say a word of it if you question his sudden good mood.

The sight of you wearing his clothes leaves him feeling fond. Not that he’d ever say that outright; the only way you’ll see him expressing this is through him being clingier and more physically affectionate than usual. He’s not the best at expressing his emotions, especially not verbally, but he’s trying to show his reciprocation of how you feel towards him in his own way.

Uses his naps as an excuse to cuddle with you if he sees you in his clothes.

He tells Ruggie not to mind the clothing thief, as he knows who it is personally. (Ruggie thinks the two of you are disgustingly sappy and cringingly cheesy. He wants no part of that, thanks.)

Vil Schoenheit

He notices as soon as the first article of clothing goes missing.

He has a system for his clothes and every outfit he wears, down to the color scheme and accessories he’ll be wearing for a day. Anyone who messes with his system risks facing his ire.

It doesn’t take him long to figure out that it was you took some of his clothes. He is torn between being greatly annoyed and fondly exasperated. What was he to do with you, honestly?/lh

If you wanted clothing advice, he’d be more than happy to give it to you. If you needed hand me downs because of Crowley’s poor guardianship, he had no qualms about whisking you away on a shopping spree. He’s quick to realize and understand, though, that you simply just enjoy taking and wearing his clothes because it reminds you of him every time you do so. How endearing can you be??

Rather than simply asking you to stop taking his clothes so it stops messing with his system, or offering to buy matching outfits, he comes up with completely logical and not at all convoluted solution to leave specific clothes that he intends for you to take from his wardrobe. If some of these things he sets up for you to steal turn out to be matching outfits that he got tailored for you, it’s merely a fortuitous coincidence.

He finds the sight of you in his clothes utterly adorable and lovable. He may even start getting into the habit of simply just gifting the clothes to you directly, though he’s aware that you’ll likely continue to pilfer clothes from him anyways.

He won’t become clingy or more physically affectionate when he sees you in his clothes, but he’ll most definitely be smug and preen about it. He has excellent taste in clothes and it’s only natural that you would look positively wonderful in whatever clothes of his that you decided to wear.

No one in his dorm had the audacity to try and steal from him before due to his position as dorm head with a fierce grasp on curses, so soon after he realizes you were stealing from him, he spells his wardrobe with anti-theft measures. (You are, of course, an exception.)

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Since it wasn’t specified if you wished for this to be romantic or platonic, I attempted to leave it open ended, so that it could be up to reader interpretation. Thank you for the request!)

I've wheezed so many times it's not even funny

Also Vil smooth in handling the situation

Who Does The Prefect Like? (Female Reader)

It was like any other day at Night Raven College. The birds were chirping, the gargoyles were glistening with the water they spouted from the previous night's rain, and mayhem was afoot. Today's form of trouble came in the shape of two cats. Leona was currently chasing Grim around the halls of the school, much to the surprise of the other students. It is historically more likely to find Leona lazing off somewhere trying to avoid his classes, but on this rare occasion, he was exerting enough energy to dead sprint after a certain resident of the Ramshackle dorm. This was, of course, noticed by the squad of first years that had become friends with the prefect, (Y/N). Leona almost bowled over Ace and Deuce in his haste with a fierce growl to move or they'd be fresh meat.

Turning to the others, Jack raised a single eyebrow, "I wonder what that's about?"

"I have no idea," stated Epel, his huge boyish eyes tracing the scene in shock, "What do you think (Y/N)? (Y/N)?!"

Looking around, there was no sight of the prefect who, just a moment prior, was with the group. Shaking his, Ace shrugged his shoulders and heaved a heavy sigh, "Where has she gone to?"

"She has been disappearing a lot lately. Skipping lunch plans we made, always texting someone, even disappearing over the weekends for extended periods... Do you think she has a boyfriend?" questions Deuce, gathering his scattered paperwork. 

Looking up from his apple carving, Epel blanches in disgust at the thought that just entered his head, "As long as it isn't Vil, I don't care who she's seeing."

"I swear," starts Ace, "if it's Riddle I will puke up everything in my stomach and then some."

Jack seemingly nods along with the conversation but his eyes show him to be in his own thoughts, "She does attend all of the unbirthday parties; however, she is strangely close to Jade Leech isn't she? I'll admit, that's one person that makes me wonder if her taste in relationships is... safe to say the least."

"Well, I think we should ask Sebek when we see him. After all, he's always attached to Malleus's side, except for supper. I'm sure we could find him during supper in the cafeteria and ask him what he knows. Maybe even Grim knows and will tell us. After all, he does live with her," states Ace as the group of friends continue their walk down the long hallway. 

Little to their knowledge, the clubroom door behind them was not locked. Normally it was school policy to lock the clubroom doors when the clubs are over, but this club never locked their door. A handy thing to know when you're in a pinch. Posters and other book-inspired illustrations adorned the literature clubroom's walls. Desks placed in a circle sat in the middle of the club room, while the pulled blinds kept the room dark and cool. An ideal location for any nerdy meetup or secret meetings.

"I think they're gone." whispers (Y/N), her voice piercing the tense silence that had filled the room.

Pulling her close, the man who abruptly and secretly yanked her into the room pulled her to him, "Yes, I suppose so. They are surprisingly unobservant."

"Vil... can you blame them?" she softly chuckles, worry and a twinge of guilt lacing her angelic voice. "I mean, Grim and Leona did almost bowl them over a couple of minutes ago."

Kissing her forehead, Vil gently smoothes (Y/N)'s hair while holding her in his arms, "Well, in the end, it helped us. I'm sure we'll be able to get out of the school what with the end of the day and clubs letting out it will be chaotic, but why don't I text Rook and have him meet up with us in the Pomefiore courtyard, hmmm?"

"While I don't put it past Rook to cause a big distraction," begins (Y/N) with a chuckle, "I'm pretty sure Leona and Grim have that handled all on their own for the majority. How about we see when we get there."

"Mmmmm... I'd believe so. Alright, my love, we'll plan as we go, and when we get there I'll order some food from my room for us to share. How does that sound to you?" whispers Vil, his mouth dangerously close to (Y/N)'s ear. 

Cupping Vil's perfect face, (Y/N) lets out a dreamy sigh, "Sounds perfect my love."

With a soft smile, Vil gently detaches from (Y/N) AND carefully pokes his head out the door. Once sure the coast is clear, he motions to (Y/N) quickly. Sprinting through the halls, the pair of lovers quickly make it out of the school and to the entrance of Pomefiore. They weren't so lucky as to avoid the evening throng of students coming in after their clubs. As predicted, Vil was right and Rook was exactly who they needed at this precise moment. Hiding, behind an apple tree in the open-air courtyard, and while letting out some tired laughs, the pair quickly dial Rook. 

"Ah! I had a feeling when you both disappeared you'd show up here. It seems my intuition was correct yet again." comes Rook's excited voice through the phone. 

While (Y/N) got a good laugh out of Rook's normal antics, Vil quickly explained the situation to the vice-housewarden. After a couple of seconds, Rook's voice comes back through the phone's speaker, "So you want me to stir up the little students Roi de Poison? Sounds like a challenge. Give me five minutes!"

As Rook said, five minutes was all it took for the dorm to be in a tizzy over some useless matter and for Vil and (Y/N) to sneak right past the Pomefiore student body, Epel included. Quietly slipping into Vil's room, the couple flops down onto the plush bed to cuddle each other. Pulling out his phone, Vil orders the normal meal for the two of you while you scour the internet for an interesting movie. 

"(Y/N) dear?" whispers Vil, gently pulling you away from the screen and down onto the bed with him. You quickly snuggle into his awaiting side while he plays with your beautiful locks of hair. "We've been dating for a while now, and I was wondering if... maybe, you would, uhm, consider going on an official date with me?"

"Vil, I thought you wanted to keep this quiet to shield me from fan hate. The whole reason we're hiding in the first place is that you wanted to." whispers (Y/N), nervously into Vil's side. "I don't know if I can handle it yet, and I don't want to make you feel like you have to go public,"

Grabbing his phone, Vil opens it to a certain site while continuing to massage down (Y/N)'s arms. "I was thinking about that. We could go public and if needed I would hire you a personal security agent. You wouldn't even know they're there, and I can get you a specially made phone. This site has enough information that I could find whoever I need. I'll look through and block all of the hate mail before you even look at it. I promise I'll protect you my darling. Regardless of the outcome, we'll handle it together side by side. As for me, I'm ready. I don't want this to make you feel like I'm keeping you tucked away like some secret. I just wanted time for the two of us before we got hounded by the fans and paparazzi."

"Alright, Vil... if that's how you feel, then I suppose I should roll with it and love you no matter the situation, after all, I love you Vil Schoenheit," whispers (Y/N), tiredly as her hunger starts to invade her body and mind. 

Gently running his finger over his cheek, Vil places a soft kiss on your forehead, "And I love you more, (Y/N) (L/N)."

Suddenly the door banged open, "I don't know why you ordered in food Vil, but I don't really care, just be grateful I brought it to you warm instead of letting it get... (Y/N)?!"

"H-Hey E-E-Epel..." stutters out (Y/N) nervously, afraid of the younger student's reaction to the situation. 

Swiftly, Vil is gracefully and meticulously in front of Epel, "Epel, thank you for running up the food but please remember that a gentle knock is always appreciated. I do believe this is our personal space and I'm spending some quiet time with my girlfriend, so I'd kindly appreciate it if you could give us some space now. Thank you very much."

Brighter than a red apple at harvest, Epel swiftly runs out of the room and disappears from our line of sight. Probably running to the nearest toilet available to puke up that ruby red apple he was eating earlier. With a sigh, Vil gently closes the door, and this time he turns the lock. Turning around, he walks back over and climbs back into the bed starting to take the food out of their to-go bags. 

"I'm sorry my dear," he whispers out eventually, "I should have taken better precautions and remembered to lock the door."

Chuckling, (Y/N) wraps her arms around Vil's waist after resurfacing from the throng of blankets that she had dived under, "Well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag now. It's okay my love. It was bound to happen eventually be it us going public or someone catching us. I suspect Rook kept it a secret for the mere fact that he could make bursts of organized chaos on the occasion."

"Maybe so," laughs out Vil, "so how is that phone sounding now?"

"Uhm... well, maybe a little better than not," chuckles out (Y/N) nervously.

Setting her food in front of her, Vil gently holds (Y/N)'s hand, "I'll get started on it first thing in the morning then."

"Alright, thanks Vil," whispers (Y/N) before kissing Vil quickly and diving in on the food.

In another part of Pomefiore, a very different night was unfolding during Vil and (Y/N)'s date...

"What happened again?" asks Ace, his and Deuce's faces crammed onto one phone's video call. 

Frustratedly, Epel slams down onto his dorm bed with his phone in his hand. After taking the food to Vil's room and subsequently puking up his supper, he rushed to dial their immediate circle of first-year friends; however, the situation quickly escalated after that. Upon seeing the odd behavior of their younger classmates and dormmates, the upperclassmen ended up joining the hectic video chat. Leona, getting thorough entertainment out of this matter, ended up calling Floyd, who subsequently dragged Azul and Jade into the mix. Floyd, then after hearing the story, called Jamil; hence Jamil and Kalim's involvement. Adding to the already growing fire, Kalim decided that they shouldn't just disclude Idia, and so both Idia and Ortho are now involved; bringing the entirety of the friend groups into this crowded and very loud video call. 

"Just quiet down and listen!" exclaims Epel frustratedly, "Vil ordered take-out and I happened to be the one to grab it, so I figured I might as well just take it to his room. On my way up there I walked by Rook, who at the time laughed and gave me a wink. I thought it was odd, but then again it was Rook and he has some really weird moments. Vil normally works on his potionology experiments after school on Thursday especially and makes a point of telling us to leave him be. Despite that, he had ordered food, and I figured I better get it to him warm instead of cold and one thing led to another. I ended up in the room and (Y/N) was there and they were snuggling in bed scrolling through movie selections. He just got up and told me that he appreciated me bringing the food but to knock first and to please leave him and his girlfriend alone so that they could enjoy their personal space. Taking the opportunity, I sprinted out of the room and to the nearest toilet. Then I video called the first-year group which ended up having the entire group of everybody in here listening.

Silence came across the phone until finally, Leona decided to break the silence, "Well, the herbivore has a boyfriend so give up boys. Abort mission because the star has shot, went overhead, and is gone so save your pathetic hearts the heartbreak. I, however, am going to go take a nap. Thanks for the entertainment though, I'm sure there'll be more to come."

Oh and was Leona right, because sure enough, the video call blew up after that. Somehow at some point, someone dragged Rook into the call; which only made the call explode even more. In the end, the friends found out who (Y/N) was dating, and the happy couple woke up to many many text messages in the morning. All was good... well it's NRC so there's plenty of mischief yet to come!

Hi! uhhh I don't really know if rqsts are open so you can just discard this if you want. n e wayssss can I get a oneshot of a dense fem!s/o who isn't really dense but she just pretends to be because she's scared of heartbreaks. make it a vil please! (btw she is so dense to the point where vil is almost making a fool of himself just to get a shred of affection from y/n) and again if the rqsts are closed please just dismiss this thanks!

a/n: Sorry for a month-long (??) delay!!

Vil Schoenheit x Pretending to be dense in terms of love! Reader

There were times when Vil thought you were doing that on purpose. You never got a hint. You never noticed that you always had his eyes follow your every move, orbs light up whenever you greeted him and darken with worry whenever you laughed your head off with another student. Vil couldn't really remember the times when he thought of you as a friend. Perhaps he never did so; in childhood times, when you were one of the kids that stuck to his side and without a complaint respected his limited time to play with other children, you were just an acquaintance and neither of you put any effort nor time to tighten the bond between you two. And three years ago, around the time when he entered Night Raven Collage walls, you two were almost inseparable. Messaging each other every day, getting fashion tips from him every morning and sincere compliments (or whining) from you in return. He supposes that you were already someone more than “acquaintance”, maybe even more than a “friend”. With his entrance, he promised himself that he will figure out his feelings by the day he graduates from NRC. Now he is in his third year, and still has no idea what the hell is going on in his mind. Why it's so hard to keep composure with you around? Is your heart so sensitive around him too, ready to jump out of your chest whenever he seems to care about you? Then, why do you never look interested in him? Should he just confess to you... and risk your relationship that he cherishes so much? Why is he the one that fell in love? It would have been easier if you were lovestruck. It is torture and Vil believes it will still be one. As much as obliviousness was a cute trait of yours—or so he thought, when he was still thinking of you only as an acquaintance—now it made him feel despondent. “What?” Vil recognizes your voice and halts. As much as he wants to just walk past the overhearing area, he can't bring himself to. He just stays quiet as you continue talking to Epel, who just spotted Vil next to you two. His muscles tense, and Epel seems like he wants to jump to you and stop you from sating anything more, but isn't fast enough. “I am not in love with Vil. Why would you think that?” Epel's eyes widen a bit, a concern fills his eyes that turn into a stormy-grey timbre. You use sudden diversity as a sign to turn around and look straight into Vil. …

He is the first one, who starts speaking. He thanks himself for his ability to control emotions. At least on the outside. Saying “disaster” would be an understatement of the turmoil tugging his heart. He just knew that there was no point in figuring these feelings anymore when they weren't going to be reciprocated. “...Good morning, potatoes,” he says after a pause, forcing himself to keep calm. “Why aren't you heading to the laboratory yet? If you will be late for classes, I will have to put you for extra etiquette lessons. No one wants that, no?” “Ah, yes,” Epel replies quickly, casting you a subtle glance. “I mean, we were planning to go there just now. [Name], hurry up, and let's go-!” “I- I think I just lied.” There is an almost visual hesitance in your voice. You tightly grip the hem of your uniform's shirt, almost poking holes in the white fabric. “About.. uh, my interest in Vil,” you continued, your voice quieted with each word. “I am not saying I am in love... and even if I am, I would like to keep such a... precious person like himself by my side even... even as friends.”

It doesn't take a long time before Vil speaks. “I think,” he says, his mind that filled with different thoughts, that he could as well have an empty space in his thoughts, “that Vil would be really happy if you risked your relationship with him. I can see him... almost struggling with confirming if your feelings are mutual. He does his best to see if he has a chance.” You look at him with surprise. “He does?” “I do,” Vil says, his smile lustres with gratitude and bliss. “And I assure you that I will use it properly when the time comes. You may expect it very soon... but this time not with a close audience.” He looks at Epel, who winces at his remark, somehow still overenthusiastic and stunned by the (half-)confession. “Am I at fault for just standing there?! You are the one who interrupted our very walk to the lab!” The ringing bell engulfs his last words, and Epel shifts uncomfortably as you dither if you must go to classes right now. Vil places his hand on your head, but in a way that doesn't mess up your hairstyle. “Try to focus on your classes today... And wait for me until I will ask for your heart officially.” With these words, he gracefully turns around, and you aren't sure if Crewell will be able to get your attention in a while.

Hey! I really love your "how to win the heart of." Can you do one for Vil? If not that's totally fine I'm just curious.

How to win the heart of Vil Schoenheit?

Be a fan.

You like to think that the oldest memory you can recall is how you became Vil’s fan.

Until then, the recitals your school took you on were boring. Only in fifth grade, the teachers realise that, hm, maybe ancient plays might be a bit too much for those little brains, and in a spark of determination to change something, your class was taken to watch a staged version of a fairy tale, played by youngsters for youngsters.

The memory of Vil, the villain of the story, entering the scene is much more vivid. Even as a child, he was inarguably elegant and strikingly beautiful, it left you agape and your curious heart beating loudly in your chest.

“It’s better than having a completely fictional crush,” your classmate said after you confessed how much endeared you were by Vil and his acting. You listened as you typed a password to a newly-created Magicam account, solely for following him there. “There is a chance that you and him will be together.”

“A big chance?”

“Uh, like this?” She tries to show how big your chance is with her fingers. She wants to leave a gap between her fingers, but ultimately, they touch, and she puts her hands down. “I mean, we are almost the same age, so maybe you can go to the same high school as him? In a very long future…”

“I am not delusional…”

Nonetheless, the thought did make you hope.

After you reached the age of sixteen, the invitation came. For a whole year — since you saw Vil’s post on his new college choice — you’ve been pondering whether you’ve possessed enough magic talent to get into Night Raven College, the school of chosen. In good dreams, the Magic Mirror deemed your soul to be solely fit for Pomefiore. In nightmares, you were doomed to… well, any other dorm, if you were a student at NRC at all.

And maybe dreams really come true because the future you’ve anticipating has turned into a reality.

“Alright, is everyone from Pomefiore here?” Your heart stops when you hear that wonderful voice, this time not from your phone nor from 100 meters away from the speakers. You turn around, and there he is, Vil Schoenheit in all his glory stands and guides the students to the hall of mirrors. He looks like a portrait, and even if you saw his face thousands of times, the glint in his eyes redeems you speechless. “Congratulations, everyone. We will hold the welcoming introductions at our dorm. Follow me!”

Yes, Vil Schoenheit is your idol. And in the first seconds of meeting him, you were ready to follow him to the end of the world.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Get rejected. Have your heart broken.

“I apologize,” Vil says slowly, and you notice how his voice is a little monotonous. Just a bit, as if he had repeated these words countless times like the lines before a recital. “And while I wholeheartedly appreciate your feelings, [Name], I want to focus on my studies and career. It’s a bad time for me to think about dating. Nonetheless, thank you for being brave and sincere enough to tell me all of this.”

You nod. The pain in your chest gives you goosebumps. It makes your head spin so fast your legs feel unstable as if there is some shift in gravity. You bow with curtsy because every Pomefiore student should be able to do so elegantly even on a space station. “Thank you for listening to my confession.”

“Of course,” he says and looks down at the letter he got from you. It’s neat, somehow cute with how carefully his name is written on it. He holds it gently so as to not crinkle the delicate paper. “I will read the contents tonight.”

“Thank you. No need to write a response,” you force a little chuckle and excuse yourself. You will be overthinking how could you say something like that after you get over your stupid letter and even dumber confession.

Vil doesn’t say anything as you walk a little too fast to keep the step elegant. He sighs at this view and mindfully tucks your letter amid the pages of the book. Now’s the time for history class. He shouldn’t get distracted—

—and soon enough, you’re out of his mind.

That is until he reads your letter.

It's a beautifully crafted confession, put into elegant lettering and a pale pink envelope. It's sealed with red wax in the shape of a perfect heart; if you haven't used magic, it must've taken several evenings to get the precision you wanted.

You’re his fan. He knows it even if you hadn’t pointed it out; the well-tailored sentences betrayed your utter attention on him in the last several years. You’re his fan, but you don’t cheapen yourself. He is the idol you admire and love, but you don’t degrade yourself to a servant or a worshiper. And that is, unexpectedly, uncommon.

The letter is—also—a challenge to yourself. “If you were to reciprocate those feelings, I will prove myself worthy to stand by your side,” it reads.

He likes that letter. Once he finishes it, he skims over the text one last time and puts it between many other letters he has gotten. Between them, another envelope seems unremarkable, yet the words there…

Unforgotten.

He sighs. Maybe he will pay more attention to you from now on.

‏‏‎ ‎

3. Don’t remember all the etiquette rules.

“You wrote in your letter that I've inspired you to learn. Go on, then. Show me how motivated you are.”

So, now Vil bullies you over your letter.

He can’t be satisfied with your scarce etiquette knowledge—he wouldn’t be content if it was decent, as it would be a dishonour to Pomefiore—but amusement crinkles in his eyes at your utter confusion over the numerous forks, knives, spoons and glasses. They’ve been spread out in several rows and columns varying from the oyster forks to champagne flute.

You hesitate. Maybe you could point out which one is the butter knife or sugar spoon, but you never cared enough to discover which fickle knife is a fish knife. Should you be looking for the one with grooves or an extremely thin one? Would it hurt to use a normal knife to eat the salmon?

Oftentimes you’re thankful there is no awkward silence between you and Vil after your confession, but you can’t shake off the impression he’s been harder on you.

“On second thought, maybe I wasn't motivated enough to learn all the names of cutlery,” you say, not daring to try your luck in labelling each piece.

To your surprise, Vil smiles and uses a teasing tone that leaves you stunned and wide-eyed. “Is that so?”

You take a breath and huff, lowering your eyes. “Yes. The power of—,” unrequired, you bite your tongue on that bitter word, “—love ends here.”

Vil cracks another delighted smile. You start suspecting that someone drugged him with a smiling potion, as you should have received a severe scolding by now. You don’t have anything against the change, so the mention of Vil’s (relative) laid-backness goes unmentioned.

“I will have you seated next to me on tomorrow's dinner, so don't even think of slacking off,” he says, putting a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you towards the next table where the heavy textbooks look so very uninviting. “I won't have any student under my wing not know the basic etiquette. Especially if it’s my fan.”

‏‏‎ ‎

4. Have opinions and the courage to voice them.

Because standing for your own makes you flourish in your own colours and not blend into the monotony of the mainstream. Seek truth, good, and beauty and you will bestow the brilliance upon yourself.

‏‏‎

5. Try to have a healthy lifestyle.

You’ve never imagined Vil barging into your room with a tray of food. Why would he? But here you are, sitting in front of an aesthetically pleasing breakfast, mouth-watering pancakes with cream and a bit of honey, and the deep green shake in question that suits the colour palette but probably tastes awfully, like all good stuff packed with vitamins.

“You should never starve yourself if you want to live healthy.”

It’s hard to swallow anything as your dorm leader glares at you, but Vil refuses to leave you before he sees you eating the stuff he brought. You wondered if he prepared the breakfast himself. Probably not.

“No? I thought that keeping a diet is good.”

“If you are dieting you eat,” Vil hisses and sinks a little more into the couch. He brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he suddenly got struck with a headache. “Oh, heavens. What am I going to do with you?”

“Maybe—”

“Quiet,” it apparently was a rhetorical question. Maybe Vil would be mad at any answer from you as he considers you a fool. He waits until you take another bite of the pancake. “A dinner break will be in two hours, and I expect you to be there.”

“I think I will still be full by that time,” you admit, glancing at a pancake and a half. “These pancakes are savoury but so very filling.”

“Savor them as much as you like,” Vil says somewhat proudly. …Maybe he did make those pancakes? No. He wouldn’t bother this much. The satisfied note in his voice makes you ponder nonetheless. “But you have no excuse for yourself not to sit with us on the meals. Also—”

His gaze grows unexpectedly impish as his eye catches something.

“I will reeducate you on the topic of a healthy lifestyle,” he glances at the bowl of bland lettuce you prepared for yourself. He smiles, either in amusement or light pity. “It should have a little more… spice.”

‏‏‎ ‎

6. Take an interest in high culture.

“It feels like the hellish lessons of Heartslabyul…”

“The Queens’ 810 rules?” Vil’s smile is lopsided and his eyes render into a knowing look once they meet your gaze. “They are nothing compared to a number of customs in etiquette.”

You take a turn. The classes for today might have ended, but if hearing all that useful stuff meant you would walk with Vil back to Pomefiore, you could bear another few minutes of a lecture. You know that everything he tells you about, he already mastered. He wouldn’t teach you anything half-heartily.

“The etiquette of speaking, the dress code, the knowledge of dinner manners (well, you’ve mastered some part of it already, with the cutlery lessons), the control of body language, the indication of voice, the honorifics, the art of writing letters and emails… You don’t want me to list all of the things I expect from you?”

You would like to, because Vil’s voice is beautiful, but the student part of you takes over control and shakes your head. Just like Riddle, who has a reputation for demanding impossible care and inquiring rules, your dorm leader is not much better — maybe even worse, because while Heartslabyul has to oblige the absurd in chosen hours or circumstances, you are on your toes in every moment.

“So much to master in just four years in the NRC…”

“It’s a lot,” Vil says, and he’s the only person you would doubt if he speaks the truth in that matter. Especially if through your walk his strides seemed perfectly calculated and hand gestures finely planned. “But if you put a mind and heart into it, you will learn all of this in no time.”

You hum. It’s hard to think of having any more motivation than from where you were a zealous Vil fan.

You ask (ponder) and he delivers.

“Actually, I have an offer: if you’ll learn it all in ahead of time, I will teach you a dating etiquette.”

…

What?

“…Dating etiquette?!” You shriek so loudly, that several students turn their heads. You cover your mouth as if it would do something, and ignoring Vil’s delighted gaze, and lower your voice to a whisper. “There is such a thing?”

“Of course. Who should invite who on the first date and where, what gifts can you give and what can you accept, and how to behave with your loved one, like,” he pauses a little, and you almost know he bites the sides of his cheeks to contain himself from smiling, “How to kiss someone in particular situations.”

You want to die. How else should you react? How can he tease you so much when he rejects you? (Not like you were expecting much at the time, yet…)

“There is no kissing etiquette. You tease me…”

“Just a little,” Vil laughs, and you slowly relax. “But take my proposal seriously. If I can give you another motivation to engage in your studies, then I will by all means do so.”

‏‏‎ ‎

7. Get an access to his private Magicam account.

“Do you have Magicam? If you want to, you can add me.”

Vil asks the question. He should have chastised you for mindlessly scrolling through social media because you can probably put your mind and hands to better use. The casual tone surprises you, but the inquiry gets you defensive as if it questioned you being Vil’s fan.

“I’ve already been following you for years,” you declare and pull up your phone.

Before you get to his profile, Vil sighs.

“Not the promotional account,” he says. “Mine.”

You frown. Many times you’ve seen Vil posting the photos on the “promotional account” with his personal thoughts. Maybe because you've been blinded by the elegance and harmony of every post, the idea that he would operate the Magicam profile solely for business purposes has never occurred to you.

“You have another account?” You ask, flabbergasted.

Vil rolls his eyes at the surprise in your tone and sits next to you. Your phone beeps as you get a notification about a new user following you. In a heartbeat, you follow the account back. You almost gape at the pictures there; they are beautiful, elegant, and all in Vil’s manner, but he looks like… a common student. Not ethereally, not otherworldly, but still enchantingly.

“It’s a private profile, so I ask you for discretion. I would like to keep this one for my close friends and family,” Vil says, and you hastily nod, your heartbeat sounding like a drumbeat in your ears. Having access to his personal account felt… personal, ironically.

I would like to keep this one for my close friends — he said that, didn’t he? Does he consider you a close friend?

That’s more than you ever imagined.

And yet you dare to dream for more.

You pull your phone close to your chest. “I feel honoured.”

Vil smiles at the statement. “Of course. As you should.”

‏‏‎ ‎

8. Let yourself be pampered.

“Don’t move,” Vil asks for impossible because you want to bolt as he leans to you once again and only the glare he staggers you with as you push away the urge to close your eyes. You hope the foundation is thick enough to cover a blush that creeps on your face. “You will ruin my work.”

You give up and glance down, earning another heavy sigh from your superior.

“Maybe I should finish the eye makeup myself?” You offer. “I am unused to anyone doing my makeup, so it’s hard not to flinch.”

Your good intentions get ruined as the question aggravates Vil even more because he frowns at you. Staying put and keeping quiet about that whole ordeal would seem like a lovely idea, you question whether your heart could manage another hour in this setup.

“Don’t be absurd,” he says. “We need to handle your sensitivity to the touch or you will struggle in the future if you decide to be a model.”

“I am not—”

“Stop.”

“I—”

“Silence. Be quiet, potato,” he presses his finger to your lips to seal them shut. You feel something sticky, and as his finger traces your lips, you realize it’s the lip gloss, and it’s a very good-smelling one like a strawberry; you didn’t expect something so sweet-tasting to be in Vil’s liked products. “You are under my care now. It also brings me satisfaction to see my skills used on someone.”

“Vil—”

“Shut up,” it’s hard to get offended at him, as he uses such a gentle tone. He takes a good look at your lips and as he glances up at you, probably to see if the colours of the whole makeup are consistent, your mouth goes dry. “Before I tell you to do so, don’t speak. You will mess up with the lip gloss and it’s… difficult to apply one on you.”

What? It’s difficult to apply the lipgloss on you?

Alright**,** you nod, pondering if the lip makeup is really that difficult. Do you have an unusual shape of lips (it’s probably not that?), or is this balm so hard to spread? You sit still, as Vil moves closer to you.

Yeah, except for the touch you need a way to ignore the beating of your heart.

‏‏‎ ‎

9. Move on from your heartbreak.

“Would you like to go out with me today?”

A kind smile convinced you to agree, although you barely recognize the name of the boy standing in front of you. His voice was hopeful, and you were reminded of the time you bore the same expectant expression.

You had no heart to let it fall, not right now, not so quickly, so you paint a delighted smile over your face. “Thank you. I would love to.”

…

You should’ve done this a long time ago.

For the sake of your friendship with Vil, you decide to stop hoping that the man of your dreams might change his mind after getting to know you better. He found a friend in you, and you would hate to disappoint him with your longing for him.

So, you should distract yourself from him and fall in love with someone else.

Today’s date will be a perfect opportunity.

You dress quite stylishly, not enough to steal all the attention, but enough to impress your date. You put more effort into the makeup this evening and spend some time picking the most fitting jewellery. The perfume you picked is subtle but alluring and chic, an excellent concoction, but you could’ve expected nothing less from Vil’s recommendation.

…It feels kind of wrong to use everything he taught you to prepare for a date, but you would’ve used this knowledge one day either way, no? It’s not like he is your first… and last love.

“I heard a boy from Scarabia have confessed to you,” the familiar voice you love but don’t want to hear like now spooks you. Vil leans on your door frame, and you wonder how much he has stayed here.

“I just agreed on a date,” you say, standing up and adjusting the folds of your outfit. You look him in the eye. “How do I look?”

Vil snorts, and his lips stretch into a mean, devilish smile. “Are you expecting an approving comment from me?”

Asking the fashion icon to rate your outfit might’ve been a wrong move. You shake your head.

“Nevermind. He’ll have to deal with however I am if he doesn’t want me to be late,” after glancing the last time into the mirror and receiving a smile from your reflection, you pick up your phone. “Well then. I shall get going.”

Vil is still, as if he hasn’t been blocking the exit or as if he wanted to keep you here. You would have loved for him to stop you here. It’s hard to stop the disappointment from flooding over your composure when Vil moves away.

“Alright. Your look is satisfactory so that Scarabia boy better be grateful for being able to go out with you,” he says something ambiguous again, and you feel bad for your date who will have to deal with such a lovesick fool as you. “Enjoy your date.”

The pang of pain pierces your heart. You smile slowly and leave the room.

The heartbreak better goes away as soon as possible, or you’ll go crazy if the thought of dating anyone else hurts that much.

‏‏‎ ‎

10. Look kissable.

“You’re late.”

Maybe you are, but you haven’t been expecting Vil waiting for you. He sits on a sofa, a book is in his hand and the tea that was served in front of him looks cold. You can guess he’s been sitting here for a while.

“How did it go?”

“It went well, I think,” you say. The date went well. Yet, you couldn’t have enjoyed it. The throbbing pain in your heart strained each of your smiles, and it surged when the Scarabian student started to be flirty. You felt as if you were cheating. “He is a kind guy. He has some hobbies and is quite charismatic, so… He’s alright.”

Vil hums. “Will you settle on ‘alright’?”

You stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t look bothered at all. He didn’t lift his gaze from his book, and his tone was nonchalant, so he almost seemed not interested. He was. He is because Vil never asks the question to whose answers he doesn’t want to hear.

“Pardon?”

He spares you a glance.

“I thought your resolution was stronger. What happened to the person who confessed to me and was so willing to determine their worth to me?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I am furious,” he lifts from the sofa, the book forgotten. The air around suddenly grows warmer, and the shiver you didn’t mind that much runs down your spine. Vil’s strides are slower than usual, creating an imposing image of himself before he stands just before you. “If you want to set the bar so low, go on. But let me give you a taste of ambition.”

He twists his head so his eyes meet directly yours. He doesn’t touch you — not yet — but you can feel a warm breath on your cheek, and the scent of his light perfume envelops you. You have the urge to move away and cling to him at the same time. They balance, and you stay still.

A taste…

Vil puts a hand on your cheek. The gesture is much softer and more benevolent than when he was putting makeup on you. His eyes lock with yours, your heart stops, and then they drop to your lips. He moves a thumb over them.

And he kisses you.

In your dreams, you had him kiss your hand, the top of your head. The corner of your mouth. In your boldest wishes, you wanted him to kiss you like that, so lovingly, with so much care. It makes you want to push away for more air, but it makes you worry Vil will disappear if you break the kiss, as all the dreams shatter upon the morning.

He moves away, not breathless, yet not unaffected either. His cheeks burn slowly into a red shade, and his eyes look somehow glassy. “I told you, I will give you just a taste.”

How disappointing.

Before you can say something, he pushes a letter between your fingers. Its envelope matches the one you gave him several months ago. “Read it. I want an answer by midnight.”

The big clock on the wall shows you have over three hours. So much time, and you already know the answer. “You will wait this long?”

“I am giving you a chance and hope,” he says with a subtle smile. The blush on his face makes him more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him. “It’s my duty of your idol to do so.”