Purple to black.

by my7th1cal

Summary:

A random day, from magicam, all boys got a ding! From their phone and it has went left, ever since?
An exposer page, but who exactly is the exposer?

Notes:

inspired from Maroon to white (south park fic go read it.)

Yes I updated this mad times.

Chapter 1: Light Purple.

Today, was too quiet, way way too quiet for NRC. Everyone had been on their feet ever since the account was made. 

“NRCDeepestSecrets.” 

from that day on, not a single boy was spared. 

and who was this exposer, how did they get such information? But not a single damned soul knew. 

everyone thought at first. It belonged to the handiwork of Azul or Rook, but both boys were in the same situation, confused.

 

There was a group of first years. Sitting, laughing, eating, having fun. That didn’t feel right to the exposer, now did it? It was like eenie Minnie mini mo, choose one from the group, and that one chosen? 

First victim ; Epel Felmier. 

that’s when, everyone looked at their phones, a ding was heard, they all knew the exposer is striking once more. 

NRCDeepestSecrets; Have you ever wondered about our dear feminine Resident at NRC, Epel? Always wondered how and why was he so… Female? maybe because the he.. was a she at birth. That’s right, you’ve all see it. The Epel you know is transgender, and probably? Not one of us was never going to know! He or should I say she? covers it up with a binder, what a shocker right? But always remember I am always here to strike. 

Epel looked up from the phone, he looked close to a panic attack. Tears, forming. As everyone looked at him, he ran and ran as fast as he could to the closest boys bathroom, crying his little heart out. He felt so outed, he wasn’t ready to tell anyone. But before he got to a stall, he felt a hand on his shoulder, it was vil. 

“Poison Apple, you know I don’t see you any different, correct?” Vil told, as epel wiped his tears a little, looking up at him.

“Yer don’t..?” The poor country boy said in a choked sob.

”No, and neither does the others. You came to this school as you, who YOU want to be. Now, I don’t know who this exposer is, but not a single potato deserves to be outed, especially one of mine.”

Epel tears soon stopped as he went to look up at Vil, for some reason? That oddly made him feel way better, but then Vil spoke up one more time. 

“And, I would like to add on, you being transgender is what you want, not no one else, don't ever, ever forget that.  No matter how feminine you look, poison apple you are still my poison apple. Now, let’s clean your face, you look like hell and a beauty disaster itself!” 

Epel gave one last smile, as he went with Vil to go clean up his face, he felt oddly comforted, especially while coming out the bathroom to be met with a group of his own friends, supporting him. 

“you know Epel, your secret is always safe with us, we care for you, shocking from someone like me.” 
Ace had said, with a slight giggle.

“But! On a continuation of what ace said human! I still see and respect you as the same!”

Epel was little shocked they even got Sebek to come out and support him. Considering it’s literally sebek. 

“Don’t be afraid to come out to us, you’re actually pretty cool… Believe it or not.. you inspire me a little..” 

Jack says, turning his head to the side, very much flushed. 

“How about this, my dear poison Apple? We have a little mini coming out party, so you don’t have to feel insecure about coming out and you’re around people who support and care for you?” 

Vil suggests, having a soft smile for the smaller boy. He really did care too much for him. 

“That would be perfect yer hear me, I wouldn’t be any more happier.” 
Epel says, wiping off the dry tear marks, looking at himself in a new light. Ignoring the exposers little post and how they misgendered him.

But, little did they know, the exposer was stalking and lurking. Already gathering their new victim, writing it down. 

Next victim; Vil Schoenheit.

Chapter 2: Purple.

Summary:

Vil is exposed, now who next?

Notes:

btw this was day time and I locked tf in. Compared to my other one which was at night.

---

The halls of Night Raven College had never felt so still. The aftermath of the last post still hung in the air like smoke from an unseen fire. Everyone had been on edge since the “NRCDeepestSecrets”  account made its ominous debut about Epel, every single one of his friends was a protection squad, from anyone who tried to talk to him about him being transgender. Especially Jack, Jack was his main defender. Always protective, always there… a good victim, right? but that’s not who we are here for.

Who was behind it? No one knew.

 

And then came the same  silence from yesterday. A kind of calm before the storm. The kind where everyone knew another post was coming. But this time, it would be different. This time, it wasn’t just anyone who would fall under the exposer's ruthless scrutiny.

It was Vil Schoenheit.

---

The first whisper reached Vil in the form of a notification, vibrating violently against his phone as he polished his nails in front of a mirror. He clicked it, dismissing it without a second thought. He expected the usual—another humiliating revelation about a student he barely knew. But what he saw, what he read, was something far more sinister.

It was his name.

He froze. His perfectly manicured hand trembled as he scanned the words:

“NRCDeepestSecrets:”

---

"Ever wondered why our lovely, pristine Vil Schoenheit is so… perfect? It’s time for the truth. Behind the allure, behind the flawless skin, is someone who has never been enough. Never enough for his friends, never enough for his father, never enough for himself. Our dear Vil is constantly chasing after perfection, as though it will fill the emptiness inside him, as though it will silence the voice that tells him he’ll never be good enough. But there’s something darker lurking in those perfect eyes—something that no amount of beauty can hide.”

“Have you ever wondered why Vil always looks like he's holding something back? Why his eyes seem hollow, like they’re waiting for something or someone to *validate* him? That's because his deepest secret is that he never believed he was good enough, especially compared to our well know prince, Neige! And no matter how many awards, how many photoshoots, how many accolades he gets, nothing will ever fill the void inside him… Not even the crown of being the fairest of them all.        How ungrateful, right, vil? I would be ashamed if I were you… so popular but never happy for what you have."

---

Vil's grip on his phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. His breath was shallow. His heart raced. How did they know?

He turned away from the mirror, his image reflecting back at him, but it felt alien now. The glowing aura he’d spent years cultivating, the perfect mask of confidence, now felt like a farce. How much of it was real?

The post tore into him, revealing truths he’d buried long ago. He had always prided himself on his beauty, his grace, his control over his image. But the exposer had dug deeper than he ever thought possible.

He had never been good enough for his family or friends. His father, Eric, wasn’t home much, but always made sure his Son did well with some critical thoughts out of love to always get a role. So, Vil became someone else. Someone who was flawless, who never showed weakness.

He had been driven to perfection, not out of self-love, but out of necessity. Because if he wasn’t perfect, if he didn’t meet that impossible standard, what would he be?

The post made him feel... small.

---

The world outside his dorm seemed muted, distant. Vil had spent so many years hiding behind his public persona, manipulating every image, every word, every movement. It was his armor. But now, with those words echoing in his mind, the mask felt thinner than ever.

He wandered aimlessly through the halls, his mind clouded by the post. He couldn’t escape it. The thought gnawed at him: What if they were right? What if I’ve always been nothing more than a fragile façade?

He turned a corner and nearly collided with someone. Epel. 

The young boy’s eyes were wide with concern as Vil stared blankly at him, the weight of the secret heavy on his chest.

"Vil, are you okay?" Epel’s voice was soft, as though he were worried that even speaking too loudly might shatter the older boy.

Vil didn’t answer immediately. He stood there, frozen, before his lips curled into that familiar, perfect smile, the one he’d spent years crafting.

"I’m fine," Vil said, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He immediately regretted the words.

Epel, ever perceptive, tilted his head. "Yer lying."  But then so only remembers to change his tone and speech around Vil, as he clears his throat.

Vil felt a flush of frustration, but he masked it with another smile, a touch colder this time. “I am not in the mood for this. You, of all people, should know how exhausting it is to be constantly perfect, don’t you?”

Epel looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Vil. I mean, you already *are* perfect, you know? But you don’t have to make everyone think you’re always fine. Sometimes, it’s okay to not be okay."

Vil's eyes flickered to the ground, his facade beginning to crack. "But if I’m not perfect, then I’m nothing. That’s all they expect from me. All they ever wanted was perfection.My father, the media—everyone. They only love me when I’m flawless. And without that, what am I?"

Epel’s voice softened, and for once, there was no trace of judgment in it. "You’re Vil Schoenheit. You’re *you*—and that’s already more than enough. Trust me, I know what it’s like to feel like you're not enough. But that doesn’t mean you're worthless."

Vil blinked. It felt... different, hearing those words from someone like Epel, no his poison apple . A small part of him wanted to reject them, to hold onto his carefully curated image of invulnerability. But another part of him, the one he never allowed anyone to see, longed to believe them.

But the post… the exposer. The words were still there, lingering in his mind, even as Epel offered his hand to him, a small, genuine gesture of support.

“You’re not the only one with a secret, Vil," Epel added softly. "I got exposed too, but  you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Vil's lips parted, but he said nothing. His mind raced with the implications of what the exposer had uncovered. Yet, despite the sting, there was something strangely comforting in Epel’s words. He felt his chest tighten with emotion.

Epel gave him a sympathetic smile. "If it helps, you're not the only one they’re targeting. We’ve all got our problems. No one expects it or wants to be alone when they get outed.”

Vil stared at Epel for a long moment before nodding. “I’ll remember that.”

---

As the days wore on, the rumors around the post only grew more intense. Students whispered in hushed voices, casting furtive glances at Vil whenever he passed. The weight of the secret that had been so carefully guarded for years was now exposed to the entire school. And Vil found himself questioning the truth of it all—Who was he without the image?

But there was one thing he knew for sure. The exposer, whoever they were, couldn’t take everything from him. He was more than the perfect face. He was more than the flawless beauty, the unreachable standard.

He was Vil Schoenheit. And no matter how much the world tried to tear him down, he would rise again—because that was what he had always done.

The exposer would not defeat him. Not now. Not ever.

---

And yet, as the days passed and Vil’s mind wandered, he couldn’t help but wonder: How much longer could he keep up the act?

Because no matter how much he hid, the truth always found its way to the surface.

As Vil walked down the hallway, his mind still clouded with the weight of the exposer's revelation, he was nearly knocked off balance when a voice, smooth and melodious, floated toward him.

"Ah! Mon cher Vil, what a *cruel* fate, non? To be so beautifully... exposed."

Vil stiffened and turned to find Rook, his ever-present smile  shining through as he leaned casually against the doorframe, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment. The gleam in Rook’s eyes was something between amusement and concern—one that Vil could never quite decipher, but knew it was always carefully calculated.

"Rook," Vil said coolly, his voice betraying none of the unease gnawing at his insides,

"don’t act like you haven’t seen it already."

Rook chuckled, a soft, almost musical sound, before stepping forward, his gaze never leaving Vil’s face.

"Ah, but my dear Vil, I know your beauty so well. Every line, every subtle nuance. The post... it was no surprise to me, but even still, it was rather... unfortunate, no?"

His eyes glinted with something deep, something too knowing. "To think that such a perfect mask would crumble so easily..." He raised his hand to his lips, as if contemplating the deeper layers of the situation. "It is saddening, truly, that the world cannot see the vulnerability beneath your immaculate façade. But I, mon ami, I see. I have always seen."

Vil narrowed his eyes, frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what exactly do you see, Rook?"

The corner of Rook's mouth curled upward, the teasing light in his eyes never wavering. "I see someone who is so much more than the world gives you credit for. Ah, but you, you know this well, don't you? It’s why you keep pushing for perfection. Why you seek validation in the eyes of others, comparing you and Neige? But there is no need, mon cher." Rook’s tone softened, his accent lilting with a kind of uncharacteristic sincerity. "There is no shame in being human, in having cracks in your porcelain mask. I respect you, Vil, for what you are, and for how you rise above, even when no one is looking."

Vil didn’t speak right away. He simply stared at Rook, as if trying to measure the truth in his words. The anxiety, the doubt that had taken root in his chest over the last few hours seemed to settle, just a little, at Rook’s insistence. It wasn’t the kind of reassurance Vil was used to, but something about it clicked inside of him. Perhaps it was Rook’s unwavering well.. Rookness in him that made him feel, if only for a moment, like he wasn’t the fragile creature the exposer made him out to be.

"And if I may add," Rook continued, with a glint of mischief now dancing in his eyes, "there are many secrets in this school. Yours are merely the most... beautiful ones, Vil. But remember—I am here. And, as always, I am watching, cherishing every detail of your essence, with nothing but admiration."

Vil shook his head, though a faint, reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "You’re impossible, Rook."

Rook bowed deeply, his hand over his heart. "Ah, I live to be so, mon cher. And remember, in the end, it is you who is the masterpiece, the one who truly captivates the world. Let no one— not even an anonymous exposer —convince you otherwise.”

 

… hm. That seems like wonderful, amazing information to me… Rook..huh? And I was thinking about jack.. but this is WAY better..

 

Next victim — Rook hunt.

 

 

Chapter 3: Dark purple

Summary:

They done got rook

 New day? New victim. It’s been too eerie lately. Everyone is scared to not be  exposed. 

The exposer walks through the halls, known. But unknown, account wise.
Searching for dirt for their newest victim, quietly, patiently. That victim was sadly Rook Hunt. 

But how do you expose Rook if there’s nothing Known about Rook? So the French boy thought. He didn’t tell a single soul about his life, he hated  people butting in, always have, always will. Just as he was watching his dear, Roi du Poison.. A ding was heard wide spread, and phones were out, it felt too odd for rook, why was his Roi du Poison looking for him? He checked his phone, going onto magicam. That was probably one of the worst things ever.

He thought at first, it was someone random, so random, the last person he expected? Was himself.. how did they get a secret of him? He didn’t tell anyone about himself.. Rook was in great fear as he pressed on the post. 

Newest Victim; Rook hunt. 

”NRCDeepestSecrets; Ah, Rook Hunt. The perfect boy, always watching, always observing, but never letting anyone in. What does it take to keep such a pristine but yet weird image? Do you think he’s really the friend you all think he is? Do you think he’s the charming, carefree scout with a smile for everyone? Or is there something darker underneath? Let me tell you what no one knows about our dear Rook.”

”Our Dear shameless friend, is a no good pathological maniac. Before you ask, what do you mean or don’t we already know that? Now, let me explain to you, he was born into a family of hunters, assassins even! I mean come on, stalking others on end, watching them as prey? There has to be a sign. Oh but there is. Brief psychotic disorder, that’s what our dear friend has, how couldn’t we tell? I mean they only last for so short times.. only about 1-30 days! Of course he gets away with it… I mean  come on, not only gay, but psychotic too? Choose a struggle, and if you don’t believe me..? Here’s a photo of him during one of these episodes. Buh-bye ;)” 

“Img.07_Rook.”

The words danced like venom across Rook’s eyes. His phone screen trembled in his hand, the cold, steel-like feeling in his chest tightening with each passing second. His breath hitched, an involuntary shudder running down his spine. The room felt too small, suffocating, the air thick with the oppressive weight of it all.

The post from NRCDeepestSecrets was more than just words. It was a weapon. A weapon that, in the cruelest sense, had been perfectly honed to tear away the façade he’d so carefully built. It was a strike at the very core of who he was, a blow that left him exposed in ways he never thought possible. How could they know about him? How could anyone know?

The photograph attached to the post was damning. It wasn’t a picture that Rook had ever consciously allowed to be taken, but it was him. Rook Hunt, his eyes glazed, his posture stiff with the telltale signs of one of his darker moments. A time when the world felt like it was slipping from his control, when his mind began to unravel, breaking him down into something primal. Something dark.

He wasn’t ashamed of those moments, not really. He’d always known there was a part of him that was different, there was some beauty in there.. That was... broken in ways others couldn’t understand. It wasn’t his fault, wasn’t something he’d asked for. It wasn’t even something he had control over.

But that didn’t matter now. The secrets that he had buried—hidden away for so long—were now out in the open, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The post didn’t stop there, either.

 

"He was born into a family of hunters, assassins even!"

The words almost made him laugh. Of course, that was what they would say. It fit the narrative, didn’t it? After all, his family was steeped in a long legacy of both hunters and spies, people who lived on the fringes, always lurking in the shadows. He was the exception, always watching but never truly participating. But the idea that he was some psychotickiller? The mere thought of it made his stomach churn. He wasn’t like that, not in the way they described.

But there was a seed of doubt now, a tiny part of him that couldn’t help but wonder… What if?

What if there was some truth to it? What if the blood in his veins really did carry the mark of something dark and twisted?

He dropped his phone to the floor with a loud crash, his hands trembling. A wild, desperate laughter bubbled up in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. He wasn’t the only one who would be suffering through this. Everyone around him, people he known, they were also suffering. But no, 

They would see him the way the post described him. A monster. A freak. A psychopath.

That thought was almost enough to drive him to madness.

But no. He couldn’t afford to lose it now. Not when everything was falling apart..

The hours that followed were a blur, a mixture of restless pacing, intrusive thoughts, and desperate attempts to pretend that nothing had changed. But the whispers followed him everywhere. He could hear them in the hallways, feel their eyes on him, their curiosity and pity burning into his skin. Rook had always been good at hiding, at keeping a facade of composure, but now? Now, it felt impossible.

He couldn’t go on like this.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in an orange glow, Rook found himself wandering the darkened halls of NRC, seeking solace in the quiet, in the solitude. His mind raced, each thought faster than the last. How could he fix this? How could he erase the stain that was now embedded in his soul?

That’s when he saw him.

Roi des Lions…, no Leona. Now, Rook loved Leona as much he loves his Roi du Posion! But sometimes it was hard to choose between both.. why not have both?

Leona’s sharp gaze locked onto him as soon as he appeared in the doorway. There was something in Leona’s eyes—something rook could not place himself.

 

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them heavy with tension. Leona leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed in that typical, calculating , smug way of his. 

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Leona said, voice laced with something between amusement and concern. “I thought you were always the observant one. But now… I see you’re the one being watched, Ironic, isn’t it?”

 

Rook’s throat tightened, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “I assure you, I’m fine Roi des Lions. Just a little… distracted.”

Leona’s lips twitched into a half-smile, but there was no mistaking the sharpness of his gaze. “You know, I’m not blind, Rook. Whatever this is… it’s not going to end well for you if you keep trying to handle it on your own, take it from me personally. Especially after my OB.

Rook didn’t respond, instead turning his gaze away, unwilling to meet Leona’s eyes. Leona had always been perceptive, too perceptive for his own good. And right now, Rook didn’t want anyone looking too closely. Not even Leona.

The silence stretched on, and just as Rook felt like he might break, Leona’s voice softened. “You know, for all the times you’ve.. been you, watching others.. you’re still human. And you don’t have to face this alone.”

Rook’s breath hitched. He didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to acknowledge how much he wanted someone—anyone—to say those words to him. But the harsh reality of the situation pushed him to speak, even if just a little.

“Do you believe them, Roí des Lions?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Do you think… I’m a monster, an insane person, a madman..? There’s no beaute in that at all, non?” 

Leona’s expression shifted. There was no pity in his eyes, no disgust. Just a hard, unwavering look of understanding.

“No, you aren’t anything of that, I mean I can be a little honest the watching is weird, and creepy but..” he replied, his voice firm. “I don’t. People can say whatever they want, but that doesn’t make it true. You know who you are. And I  and many others know who you are.”

Rook wanted to argue, wanted to tell Leona that he didn’t understand. But the words never came. He stood there, rooted to the spot, feeling an overwhelming wave of emotion flood over him.

For the first time in a long while, Rook allowed himself to break, just for a second. His walls, so carefully constructed, began to crumble.

Leona stepped forward, his hand gently resting on Rook’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to ground him.

“You’re not alone, Rook. Not now. Not ever.”

“Now, you wanna watch the sunset?”

“ That would be marvelous Roí des lions, a real sign of true beauty its self!”

Rook replies, as if everything he went through was now put behind him.

How cute. The exposer thought, watching from a tree afar, eating an apple. 
“Who should be next..?”

Notes:

haha cliffhanger ish.

I switched maybe 2 ships. Leona/rook/vil
And now there’s malleus/yuu so yh.

2. I want hear ur guys guesses who is the exposer and what order is everyone getting exposed in.

3 if u want to talk abt this AU to me my discord is _theylovem_🫶🏽

Chapter 4: Dark blue

Summary:

Deuce gets exposed btw I accidentally posted the chapter.

New day, seems normal… but. hm, two people are talking? as all students from NRC walk in.. A first year and someone seems to be in a very serious conversation. 

“I really can’t take you enough for giving me the information, Yuu.” The person cocks their head to the side with a small grin. 
“you’ve been helping me all this time, how do I ever pay you?”

”By not exposing me, oh so exposer. You know how much it hurts me to even help you out?! When I saw Epel in tears.. all because.. I was selfish, I focused on me first..  and gave out his secret when he wanted no one to know..” Yuu cries out, trying not to break down. 

“Oh, but yuu? Are you not doing it now though? You just gave my deuces secret for me to post! you can’t cry and feel bad but yet, you still give it to me.” The person laughs, cruelly. 

“you blackmailed me ! I didn’t have a choice! You can’t pin this on me, if you even tell on me once for helping you out, I’ll bring you down with me!” Yuu says angrily. 

“But how can you? I can just write something tame about myself and not ever write something about you, they would all think it’s you! Not me.. silly.”

 

”Whatever! I had enough now please, just leave me alone for the day! Can’t you see you already hurt me enough? What more do you want from me?” Yuu exclaims, wiping their tears away. 

 

“Nothing. I’ll be on my way now.” The mysterious person says. They take a folded slip of parchment from Yuu, details scrawled hastily across the page.

“Deuce Spade… mama’s boy… ex-delinquent…  oh, this will sing on the message account,!” The person says.

“You know Yuu, the school loves drama, and I’m just giving the people what they want.” 

They pocket the note, already tapping at their phone.

Yuu clenches their fists, frustration and guilt swirling.

”You’re a monster.”

The person spoke up. “Maybe. But I’m an effective one. Now,Now… go to class. And act normal. Wouldn’t want anyone suspecting you, hm?”

The figure strides off, whistling, leaving Yuu staring at the dirty ground, tears threatening to spill, from their eyes.

 

 

 Later that day, the entire school hums with the usual causal fun., but there’s an underlying current of tension. Phones ping. Murmurs spread through the cafeteria, the courtyards, the dorm lounges.

NRCDeepestSecrets — the notorious, anonymous feed where rumors and truths alike are broadcast — has struck again. And this time, its target is none other than Deuce Spade, the earnest first-year who’s worked so hard to leave his past behind, cute isn’t it? All of that to be down the drain like it’s nothing.

“NRCDeepestSecrets ; it’s me again~ did you miss me? I missed you guys. I even might change this accounts user someday xoxo ;) but.. I’m not here for that, neither are you guys.. my target? Can I get a drum roll…… Deuce spade!”

Our  honor student isn’t so honory, pun did you get it? Did you know Deuce Spade used to be a delinquent? Not just a rebellious phase,  a real one. Fights, and maybe..trouble with the law! Thats The real whole deal. And here’s the kicker… he’s still a mama’s boy, clinging to her approval while pretending to be a ‘model student, Just for her sake the moment she couldn’t deal with him.. what a softie.’ NRC, meet the two-faced Spade.” 


Deuce read the thing from head to toe, in complete udder horror and shock..How did the exposer ever get this? He didn’t tell anyone so it had to be impossibl—… he told the first years. He didn’t want to make a fuss, but he knew, just knew one of them told someone, the exposer how else would they know? He swore up and down he was secretive about it.. He didn’t know how to process it at all. He wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.. was this how Epel felt? Now he really understood.

 

---

Heartslabyul Lounge

Students cluster in groups, whispering. Cater is already scrolling through his Magicam feed. Trey watches silently from the corner. Riddle’s expression is unreadable.

Ace bursts in, phone in hand. Coming in, grinning nervously “Hey, Juice! bro! You, uh… seen the post yet?”

Deuce, seated stiffly on a couch, lifts his eyes slowly. His jaw is tight.

“First, it’s Deuce! Not Juice! And..Yeah. I saw it.”

A silence settles over the room. Even the air feels heavy, tension pressing against the ornate Heartslabyul walls.

 

Cater clears his throat, his usual cheer sounding strained.

 “Y’know… don’t take it too hard, Deucey.. People post junk on that feed all the time. Could be… uh… exaggerated?” Cater claims, trying to stick his tongue out to make this situation a little bit playful.

Trey glances at him

“But the timing… and the details. Whoever wrote this knew specifics, there was no other way.”

“Half the school’s already seen it. Even people in Scarabia are talking about it! I got a DM from Kalim asking if it’s true.” Exclaims Cater.

 

Deuce’s hands tighten into fists on his knees. He stares down at the plush carpet, his reflection faintly visible in the polished floor beneath. His voice is low but steady.

“…It is true.. I won’t lie to you guys and say it’s not, it’s very much is, I mean excluding ace, he kinda already knew.. but still.”

 

The words land like a thunderclap.  Trey blinks, Cater lowers his phone, and even Riddle — who had been standing near the window, arms crossed — turns to look at him.

So. It isn’t a fabrication.”

He steps forward, his blueish-gray eyes narrowing, with that same stern face, but something about it.. it seemed soft. 

“Deuce… your past doesn’t erase your efforts. You’ve proven yourself countless times. Anyone with sense will see this for what it is — petty gossip.” Riddle says putting a hand on Deuces shoulder.

Deuce only simply shakes his head.

“You don’t get it. It’s not just gossip. They dug up my worst moments and threw them out for everyone to gawk at. I promised my mom I’d leave all of that behind! I’ve been working harder than anyone to prove I’m different, and now—now the whole school’s laughing at me!” He cries out. 

The outburst echoes through the lounge. For a moment, no one says a word. Even the murmurs outside pause, curious about the raised voice.

The whispers twist like knives. Deuce’s breath grows shallow, and Ace notices his shoulders shaking. 

“Hey, come on, Deucey. People are always gonna talk, you just have to be the bigger one and show you aren’t affected, right?”  Ace says, trying to make light out of the situation.

 

Cater scrolls through his phone again, wincing. “Uh… not to make it worse, but… there are already  jokes and memes. Like… a lot of them.”

 

Trey then speaks up. 

“Then we’ll stop them. All of us. We can defend deuce.  He is still our friend no matter how he was in the past. That can go for all of us.”

Everyone looks at him with a nod. Then riddle also spoke up. 

“And, as your housewarden, it would be cruel for me to not speak up and stand up for you. anyone who talks about it and makes fun of you shall be off with their heads! And collared.” He says, very sternly.

 

“See Deuce, we’re all here for you, it might break some rules but, just for deuce guys.. a movie night?” 
Ace comes out and says with pleading eyes. 

I can make some sweets in order for it tonight also. “Trey smiles, getting ready to bake.”

 

”And I can sooooo tots choose the movie all in favour of one of my favourite freshies~!” Cater exclaims. 

Now they all look a riddle, as a gaze of approval. 

“It wouldn’t hurt so bad to break some rules, as  Riddle nods, giving the okay for it.” 

“thanks guys. You really are the best ,I wouldn’t know what to do without you guys.” Deuce says with a slight smile now. 

“You’re welcome!!” They all exclaimed. That movie night,  Deuce  felt very loved. And couldn’t even ask for anything more. 

“..so that’s how things ended.” the exposer thought.

Keeping in thought who should be next. 

“I mean they are already a known duo.. why not do the other one..?” 

The exposer says, leaving instead of wandering for the night, getting the best sleep they could ever have.

Notes:

Some of ur theories are actually fun to see.. but I can’t confirm but I do enjoy them! I can give hints though so if u need a hint just ask.

P.s u did not see the chapter get uploaded I accidentally pressed the button. But thx for ur luv guys. I’m writing this as my hand burns due to a cut.

Chapter 5: Dark red

Summary:

sorry for late update I am super tired.
Ace Gets exposes

Today… was just too boring. More like, everyone was feeling lazy! It was even more boring for the exposer. They didn’t have a single thing on ace! Not a damn thing. When they said nothing? It literally means nothing. 

 

They tried asking numerous people ace is close with, no avail. Not a single soul knew much about Ace. Nothing… only that he’s an idiot.. 

 

“How stupid can they be?! eveeeeeryone knows that… I guess we have to go tame today.. “ The exposer says bored, not even little bored, VERY. 

 

He  tried to ask more, before going tame but— oh. Did I say he? I meant they. They tried to ask more like Jamil, Floyd, Deuce… all on a private account. But this just isn’t helpful at all, the only thing  they got was  Ace was gay.. and a photo of him and Deuce.. well being him and Deuce.. they’ll find a way and make it work.

 

Just great..! Great. The exposer thought. 

“This will just be terrible…” the exposer mutters but not before they felt a hand on their shoulder… Trey? What would he need? 

 

“Hey ___________, you okay?” Trey asks, showing a face of mock hurt.

 

“I am JUST fine, Trey why do you ask?” The exposer cocks their head a little. 

 

“… I’ll stop beating around the bush. You all? Need to cut it out. I was fine helping out before. You wouldn’t even be able to do Rook if it weren’t for me. But you (guys)? You guys broke the deal. I said I’ll do it for anyone else. As long as you don’t do my dorm, what the hell are you doing?!”

 

Trey says, his face scrunching up, pissed as hell. 

 

“We said, we might spare your dorm, we said, only you had a guaranteed you won’t be posted but.. if you’re leaving us.. we damn sure aren’t saving you.”  The exposer says, pissed off now. 

 

“Expose us and we’ll even out you for helping us out. This isn’t just a one person team, Trey~.”

 

“So be it, but you’re not going to do this to my freshmen,  especially the ones I care about the most. I’m leaving now, but don’t let me find you alone again. I won’t hold back.” 

 

Trey leaves after that, going back with the heartslabyul group as they head towards classes.

 

“He has some nerve…! Just I should expose Ace now for what Trey just did..!”  The exposer was beyond livid by now, so they pulled out their phone and went into a secretive spot, and started to type.”

The exposer’s fingers fly across the screen, pure rage fueling every letter.

“NRCDeepestSecrets reporting in~ Sorry for the delay, darlings, today’s content was almost too boring to bother with. But thanks to a little spark from someone we won’t name. We’ve got today’s drop after all!~”

“And who is it? Our Heartslabyul jester, Ace Trappola., cocky, annoying, stupid, trickster — and apparently, closeted. That’s right, NRC, your favorite trickster and liar isn't just hiding his test scores from Riddle, or anything he did wrong— he's been hiding the fact that he's gay. Yes, G-A-Y.”

“Sources say he’s had a thing for a certain classmate for months. Someone close, someone sweet.. well I can’t say sweet anymore.. more like… two faced? A delinquent? , someone… Spade-shaped. <3 If you catch my drift. We’ll call this ship Ace of Spades. Fitting for the two, isn’t it?”

“Now, don’t all act so surprised. You think all that teasing and those dramatic  fights were just bad flirting? Think again. And Deuce, darling, if you're reading this? You might want to have a chat with your ‘best friend.’ Or maybe a kiss? 💋.. damn f__. oops..? Did I let it out? 

“NRC, I give you: Ace Trappola, gay panic edition. You’re welcome.”

(FYI.. authors note I can reclaim.) 

Attached is a blurry photo — Ace and Deuce sitting close on the dorm couch, laughing about something. Harmless. Until it’s not.

 

The comments were even funnier! 

OMG WAIT IS THIS REAL???”

“ACE TRAPPOLA GAY ERA???”

“ok but ace/deuce makes sense tho 😭”

“bro was fruity this WHOLE time”

“this is why he kept ducking girls 💀💀💀” 

Within seconds.. everyone knew the trickster Ace who would always say no homo… was literally an homosexual.

The exposer? Loved this. That was revenge. Revenge on Trey. 

Heartslabyul Lounge — that afternoon

---

Ace doesn’t come in yelling like usual. No loud jokes. No dumb nicknames. He steps inside the dorm common room like someone walking into a funeral.

The usual crew is there — Riddle reading at the table, Trey folding a dishcloth, Cater scrolling through his feed. Deuce looks up from his spot on the couch.

“Oh,” Deuce says, standing quickly. “There you are—”

“Don’t,” Ace mutters. “Don’t do the whole ‘hey, are you okay’ speech. Just—don’t, it already pisses me off enough.” 

His voice is hoarse. His eyes are a little red.

Cater opens his mouth. Closes it. He glances nervously at Trey, who gives him a slight shake of the head, if anything Trey seemed reeeaaaally mad.

Riddle lowers his book but says nothing. His brows are drawn tightly together. He’s watching. Calculating. But—for once—not judging.

“Look, I’ll just say it,” Ace blurts, voice sharp. “Yes. I’m gay. Okay? Everyone saw it. Everyone knows. Happy?” 

He says stubbornly. He throws his phone onto the couch like it burns to hold.

“I didn’t tell anyone ‘cause it’s none of their business. I didn’t even tell you, Deuce, because I knew someone would run their mouth, and guess what—” he gives a bitter laugh, “they still did.”

Silence.

“I didn’t choose to like guys, and I sure as hell didn’t choose to have a crush on you. It just… happened. You were always there. You never treated me weird. Even when I was being annoying or dumb or selfish.”

He wipes at his face quickly.

“I never wanted you to find out like this. Especially not from them.”

Ace turns, half-ready to bolt.

“Wait—” Deuce says, stepping forward.

Ace freezes.

Deuce’s voice is firm. Gentle. “You like me?”

Ace turns around slowly, dread in his stomach. “...I didn’t mean to.”

Deuce takes another step, face unreadable.

“And you think I’m mad about that?”

Ace scoffs. “Wouldn’t you be? I mean, c’mon. This school is vicious. I’ve already seen like five meme edits of us holding hands on fire. And now everyone thinks I’m some closet case joke, what if my parents find out..? I didn’t even tell them yet!” 

“You’re not a joke,” Deuce says quietly. “Not to me.”

Ace finally looks up. His eyes widen a little. “What?”

Deuce exhales. “I don’t really know how to say this right. But I guess… I like you too.”

Ace stares. “You…?”

“I didn’t really get it until recently. You were always teasing me. Laughing at my dorky speeches about being an honour student.. But you never made me feel worthless. You made me feel… like I could loosen up, I can be myself.” Deuce’s cheeks are pink now, his hands stiff at his sides. “When I saw that post, I wasn’t mad. I was scared for you. I know how cruel people can be. But you don’t have to go through that alone, just like how you didn’t leave me all alone.” 

Ace blinks fast. “I thought I screwed everything up.”

“You didn’t,” Deuce says. “And even if you had — I’d still be here.”

Ace lets out a shaky breath. “Damn it, Deuce… don’t make me cry in the lounge.”

Deuce smiles, small and warm. “It’s okay. I’ll just sit here with you if it happens.”

Ace nods, slowly sitting beside him.

“...You still like girls, though, right?” he jokes weakly, knowing damn well. “This doesn’t make you gay too, right? Or are we gonna get matching labels?” 

Deuce shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. I just like you. Whatever that means, so I guess we’re both gay.” 

They sit there together, close enough to touch, but not quite. The air is quieter now. Softer.

Cater peeks around the corner, wiping his eyes.

“I’m gonna plan the cutest comfort movie night for you two. Rainbow theme!” Cater jokes around.

Trey chuckles. “I’ll handle snacks. Maybe strawberry parfaits? Riddle you wouldn’t mind another movie night? I think you deserve another break as housewarden for how much you do for us.” 

Riddle doesn’t say much, but when Ace catches his gaze, Riddle gives him a very small nod — almost imperceptible, but it’s there. A sign of acceptance. A sign of him taking a break for once and honestly? Proud of his freshman.

Ace leans back on the couch, finally letting himself breathe.

“…This might be the most dramatic day of my life,” he mutters.

“Same,” Deuce says, bumping his shoulder gently.

But the look Ace gives him is grateful. Soft. Maybe even something like love.

 

---

 

Meanwhile…

Back in the shadows of NRC’s forgotten corners, the exposer stares at their phone, eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t expect that,” they mutter. “Touching. Gross.”

They scroll past the posts. The jokes. The debates. The insults rolling in.

“Maybe next time I’ll really ruin someone, everyone has been having a good ending. I don’t get it.” 

Their eyes gleam.

“I think it’s time we turn our attention to a Magicam enthusiast.. They’ve been too quiet lately…” 

 

 

 

BONUS

---

The common room is dim now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the TV and the faint flicker of the fireplace. The others have drifted upstairs, leaving only Ace and Deuce behind. The credits roll quietly in the background.

Ace is sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, the other holding the empty parfait cup Trey insisted he finish. Deuce sits cross-legged beside him, watching the last lines of the movie scroll past.

For a moment, neither says anything. It’s… peaceful.

Then Ace lowers his arm, peeking at Deuce. “So… are we just not gonna talk about earlier? Or are you waiting for me to, like, spontaneously combust from awkwardness first?”

Deuce blinks, turning toward him. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well, now I can’t stop thinking about it. So… might as well.” Ace sits up, rubbing the back of his neck. “You really weren’t weirded out? About me, y’know… liking you?”

Deuce shakes his head. “No. Why would I be? You’re still you. Still annoying. Still reckless. Still my… friend.” He hesitates, then adds quietly, “And… maybe more than that.”

Ace grins, but it’s softer this time — no teasing, no smirk. 

Was it the hair?”

Deuce blinks. “What?”

Ace turns his head, a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. “Like, what made you like me? Was it the hair? The charm? My devastatingly handsome personality?”

Deuce rolls his eyes, but there’s the tiniest smile playing at the corner of his lips. “It was definitely not your personality.”

“Oh wow. Brutal,” Ace groans, dramatically placing a hand over his chest. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

Deuce snorts. “You were always annoying, but… kind. And you never treated me like I was  bothering you.. a burden. when I messed up. Even when I acted like a stuck-up  pretend honor student.”

Ace turns quiet, smile fading into something smaller. “Yeah. I guess I liked you for the same reason.”

Deuce shifts closer. Their knees touch. Neither moves away.

There’s a pause. Not nervous — just thoughtful.

“…Can I ask you something?” Deuce says.

“Sure. Unless it’s school.”

Deuce ignores that. “Were you scared?”

Ace doesn’t answer right away. His voice, when it comes, is quiet.

“…Yeah. Kinda terrified. I mean, I didn’t even tell myself out loud. And then the whole school knew before I could say it.”

Deuce nods. “But… you’re not alone anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ace murmurs. “I guess I’m not.”

There’s a beat.

Then Deuce, fidgeting slightly, leans over and rests his head on Ace’s shoulder.

Ace stiffens for a second. Then relaxes. Leans just a little closer.

“Is this okay?” Deuce asks softly.

Ace swallows. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

Another beat.

“…You smell like strawberries,” Ace adds, smirking.

Deuce groans. “That’s because  Cater made me wear that dumb dessert-scented lotion!”

“Wow. Cute and edible,” Ace teases. “Lucky me.”

“Don’t push it.”

They fall into a quiet rhythm — soft breaths, steady heartbeats, warmth pressed against warmth.

Somewhere in the dorm, a grandfather clock ticks. Outside, crickets hum.

But in the lounge, two boys sit on a couch, legs tangled, hearts a little lighter than before.

It’s not perfect. Nothing ever is. But it’s theirs.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

 

 

Notes:

I gave yall a bonus do you like. A forgiveness of being late.

This isn’t proof read btw.

Chapter 6: Light blue

Summary:

Cay..cay. They got you

 

The air in Heartslabyul feels heavy — like someone forgot to open the windows after a storm.

 

Ace and Deuce are quieter than usual. Even Cater, Heartslabyul’s certified Phone addict, hasn’t posted a single Magicam story all morning. Which is saying something.

 

The dorm is still recovering from Ace’s reveal — the memes, the whispers, the late-night movie that tried to stitch things back together. It worked, mostly. Ace and Deuce can laugh again, but the atmosphere hasn’t fully lifted.

 

Cater leans against the lounge doorway, Magicam open but untouched, scrolling past posts about Ace, about the exposer, about NRCDeepestSecrets in general. Every time he sees that account pop up, something cold crawls up his spine.

 

“Rough couple of days, huh?” Trey says, walking by with a tray of snacks.

 

Cater flashes his usual grin, quick and practiced. “Totally! But hey, at least we’re not the ones trending, right?”

 

Trey hums, unconvinced, and moves on.

 

Cater’s grin drops the moment Trey’s out of sight. His thumb hovers over the “post” button, it was an old photo. Him and Trey as second years and First year Riddle. Then, he pockets his phone.

 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Lucky us.”

 

---

 

Across campus, the exposer isn’t so quiet.

 

Their feet drag across the cobblestone path, a scowl carved into their face. The account’s been riding high since Ace’s post, but they need new fuel — something juicy enough to keep NRC glued to their phones.

 

Yuu trails behind them, unwilling but trapped. “You really can’t just… stop for a week? you are soo lucky I don’t have magic…” 

 

The exposer shoots them a flat look. “And let the hype die? Please. People would rather die than live without drama for a day.”

 

“But Cater?” Yuu asks. “He’s…him. You won’t find anything, when I mean anything, I mean messy like.” 

 

“I only came to you with this idea, when it first happened because Cater seemed bored, same with others… But you? You’re taking it far. You’re sharing the account..! It’s not even us two anymore.. you just call me when I’m needed. You turned cruel _____, cruel. After Ace? I’m starting to realize how fucked up it was for me to give up all 3 of their secrets. I mean.. Ace was only a guess but still.. you ran with it. You get angry now if you don’t get what you want, the old you before this… wouldn’t get that angry. You would just slant your eyes. Something like that..” 

 

“Oh my dear yuu… can’t you see? This is gonna end out good, I’m still the same, I’m still loved. I think… I think you’re just overthinking things. I don’t call you when I need you.. I just… eh.. I don’t know how to explain but I hope you understand little, ___.” 

 

(yes I censored the nickname haha.)

 

The exposer smirks, pulling a folded slip of paper from their coat pocket — a lead from some “helpful” student who overheard Cater muttering to himself in an empty classroom, I mean not a random someone, one of the people who they trusted with the account.

 

“Oh, we’ve got something. Not scandal, exactly, but… truth hurts worse sometimes. Especially when someone’s been hiding it behind filters and hashtags.”

 

Yuu grimaces. “You’re disgusting.”

 

“Maybe,” the exposer says with a shrug. “But NRC can’t get enough of me.”

 

They tap their phone, fingers flying across the screen.

 

---

 

The ping hits during afternoon tea in the Heartslabyul lounge.

 

Students glance at their phones. Then, like wildfire, whispers ignite.

 

Ace looks up mid-bite. “...Oh no. Who is it now?”

 

Deuce’s brows knit as he scrolls. “Cater…”

 

Cater freezes mid-snapshot, phone in hand. “…Me?”

 

The post spreads across every screen in the room.

 

---

 

NRCDeepestSecrets here again\~! ; 

“Can’t leave you hanging, right? Today’s little spotlight isn’t scandalous — it’s just… sad. Let’s talk about Heartslabyul’s resident Cater Diamond, THE magicam addict, the one who’s trying to be like other influences. 

 

Always smiling, always snapping selfies, always the life of the party. But NRC, here’s a peek behind the filter: Cater’s cheer isn’t real. Not all the time, anyway. Word is, our Magicam king hides behind his phone because it’s easier than admitting he feels… empty, anything he does for magicam? Just for likes.

 

He spends hours scrolling, posting, editing — not just because he loves it, but because real connections? Those are harder. He worries people only like him when he’s smiling, when he’s known as “Cay-Cay.”  When he’s performing or acting for the camera. The Cater Diamond behind the camera? He barely lets anyone see him.

 

So the next time you double-tap his perfect brunch pic, ask yourself: who’s it really for? Us? Or him, trying not to feel so alone, empty?

 

The post ends with a grid of Cater’s latest Magicam shots: big smile, perfect lighting, captions full of emojis. And a final, damning caption:

 

Maybe someone should ask him how he’s *really* doing. Or would that ruin the aesthetic?“

 

---

 

The room is silent.

 

Cater stands frozen,  phone still in hand. His smile flickers — once, twice — then vanishes entirely.

 

He sets the phone down carefully, as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

 

“…Wow. Guess I’m trending after all,” he says, voice light but brittle.

 

Ace shifts uncomfortably. Deuce opens his mouth, but no words come out.

 

Riddle’s gaze is sharp, but not unkind. “Cater. Is there truth to this?”

 

Cater lets out a shaky laugh. “I mean… kinda? Yeah. But who doesn’t use a little filter, right? NRC doesn’t need to see me sulking about feeling… whatever, it’s just a bunch of lies.. Cay-Cay is still the same..!”

 

Trey steps forward, voice calm. “Cater, this isn’t about filters. It’s about you. Are you okay, same or not same.”

 

Cater blinks, caught off-guard. He tries for a smile but can’t quite manage it. “I… don’t know.”

 

He sinks into a chair, staring at his phone. Notifications keep popping up — pitying DMs, reposts, comments ranging from “poor Cater 😢” to “lol faker got caught.”

 

“I just… didn’t want anyone to see that side. The boring, lonely, empty Cater. I figured if I kept smiling, being more of an influencer you see in the media, people would stick around. No one wants a downer friend, right?”

 

His voice cracks on the last word. He quickly hides his face in his hands.

 

Riddle kneels beside him, surprising everyone. “Cater. Listen to me. We do not care for you because of a smile, or because of Magicam, or because you keep the mood light. We care for you because you’re you”

 

Trey nods, placing a hand on Cater’s shoulder. “Even if you’re sad. Even if you need to put the phone down for a while. We’re here.”

 

Cater peeks through his fingers, tears threatening. “Even if I’m not the ‘fun one’?”

 

“Even then,” Trey says gently. “Especially then.”

 

The words hang in the air, soft but firm.

 

Slowly, Cater lowers his hands. His breathing steadies. The tight knot in his chest loosens just enough to let him exhale.

 

“…Thanks, guys,” he murmurs, voice small. “Guess I needed to hear that more than I thought.”

 

Ace, ever the mood-breaker, pipes up from the couch. “Well, if it makes you feel better, at least your exposer post didn’t ship you with anyone. Silver lining, yeah?”

 

Cater actually laughs — wet and a little shaky, but genuine. “Guess so.”

 

For now, that’s enough.

 

---

 

Bonus Scene: 

---

Ignihyde Dorm — Midnight

 

Cater needed air. Not more pep talks, not more pitying looks. Just… quiet.

 

Which is how he ends up outside Ignihyde, following the faint glow of a computer screen through an open dorm window.

 

Idia is, unsurprisingly, still awake, his hair a soft flicker of blue as he types furiously at his desk. The light from his monitors paints him in neon shadows.

 

“Hey. Idia-kun” Cater calls softly from the doorway. “You busy?”

 

Idia startles, nearly tipping his chair. “Wha—?! Dude, it’s like midnight, the only people I expect to be up from my dorm is Ortho..! Jump scare much?!”

 

Cater chuckles weakly, stepping inside. “Sorry. Just… couldn’t sleep. Mind if I crash here for a bit? Your dorm’s quieter than Heartslabyul.”

 

Idia hesitates, glancing at the three empty cans of energy drink on his desk, then back at Cater’s unusually subdued expression. “…Yeah, uh. Sure. Take the beanbag.”  Why is a normie.. well not a normie.. one of his friends I guess..? in here, he thought.

 

Cater sinks into the beanbag chair, pulling his phone out — then, after a moment, turning it face down on the floor.

 

Idia notices. “You’re… not posting?”

 

“Nah. Took a break. My followers can live without a selfie for one night.” Cater leans his head back, eyes half-lidded. “Kinda feels nice. Just… being.”

 

Idia fiddles with the mouse of his keyboard“…So, uh. You okay? I saw the post. Everyone did.”

 

Cater smiles faintly — not his usual polished grin, but something smaller, softer. “Yeah. Not really. But I’ll get there.”

 

There’s a pause.

 

Then Idia, awkward as ever, mumbles, “For what it’s worth… I like the ‘boring’ Cater. Easier to talk to. Less… pressure.”

 

Cater opens one eye, surprised. “…Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Idia says, cheeks faintly pink, with the ends of his hair also turning pink. “So, like… you don’t have to do the whole ‘influencer’ thing around me. I already… kinda like you.”

 

Cater blinks. Then smiles — a real one this time. Warm. Unfiltered.

 

“…Thanks, Idia. That means a lot.”

 

They sit in the quiet hum of Ignihyde’s servers, two people who don’t quite fit the spotlight, finding comfort in the glow of screens and each other.

 

And for Cater, maybe — just maybe — that’s the first post-worthy moment he doesn’t need to share.

 

---

 

 

Notes:

I love u guys so much I’m gonna do a double chap but I won’t say who’s next.

Chapter 7: Light red

Summary:

Double chap.. and idk guess who..

The echoes of the last few days still clung to Heartslabyul like a stubborn fog. Whispered rumors slipped through the halls like unseen currents, carrying gossip that tangled and twisted with every retelling.

 

Ace’s reveal had rocked the dorm, leaving students cautious, wary. Cater’s fallout had followed close behind, peeling back layers of a smiling facade to reveal quiet loneliness and vulnerability beneath. Now, all eyes seemed to linger just a little too long on the ever-steady figure of Riddle Rosehearts — the strict, composed warden who’d always been the unshakable backbone of the dorm.

 

But the calm was only a surface tension, stretched tight and ready to snap.

 

Riddle walked the hallways with his usual upright posture, his gaze scanning, always vigilant. But even he couldn’t escape the undercurrent of unease. The quiet glances from students, the stiff nods instead of warm greetings — it all weighed on him heavier than he expected.

 

He paused outside the common lounge, where Ace and Deuce were seated, their faces drawn tight with concern. The aftermath of Ace’s scandal still lingered; Deuce’s quiet support had been a balm for many, but the dorm’s wounds were raw and exposed.

 

Trey approached, carrying a small stack of textbooks, his expression soft but serious. “You okay, Riddle?”

 

Riddle offered a curt nod, but the faintest tremor betrayed the strain beneath his cool exterior. “As well as I can be.”

 

Trey sighed, settling beside him. “It’s just… hard, isn’t it? Watching your dorm get pulled apart like this.”

 

“It’s my responsibility to hold it together,” Riddle said quietly. “Even if it’s falling apart.”

 

The words hung heavy, a fragile confession from the man everyone expected to be unbreakable.

 

---

 

Meanwhile, the exposer lurked in the shadows of the school’s digital underbelly. Their fingers danced impatiently over their phone’s screen.

 

Ace had been a goldmine, a juicy scandal that lit the whole campus aflame. Cater’s fragile vulnerability had drawn sympathy and sympathy-fueled gossip. But now, with their attention growing, the exposer needed their next target — and it was going to be big.

 

“Riddle Rosehearts,” they muttered, lips curling into a cruel smile. “The non Rulebreaker, the tyrant housewarden? Time to shatter that illusion.”

 

Someone.., walking hesitantly behind, whispered, “Are you sure? He’s... different from the others.”

 

“Exactly,” the exposer said. “Because the more perfect the mask, the more devastating the fall.”

 

With a tap, they scrolled through messages from students around Heartslabyul — whispers about strange noises in empty corridors, unexplained disappearances of Riddle after tense days, glimpses of something more vulnerable beneath the strict discipline.

 

The exposer’s grin widened. “This is going to be legendary.”

 

---

 

Back in Heartslabyul, the afternoon sun filtered through stained glass, casting kaleidoscopes of color over the polished floors. The dorm’s usual energy was dampened, conversations quieter, smiles rarer.

 

Suddenly, phones buzzed everywhere. The unmistakable notification of NRCDeepestSecrets appeared on nearly every screen.

 

Ace glanced at his phone, his expression darkening. “Not again...”

 

Deuce’s eyes flicked up, wary. “Who now?”

 

Scrolling quickly, Cater’s usual bright grin faded as he read. “Riddle…”

 

Riddle, standing near the window, caught sight of the growing crowd and felt the pull of dread knotting his stomach. He forced a calm expression and approached the small gathering, trying to keep his voice steady.

 

“What is it?”

 

Trey handed him a phone, displaying the post.

 

The words stared back at him, each sentence like a cold blow:

NRCdeepestsecrets; “Guess what, NRC? Heartslabyul’s Iron Warden isn’t quite as ironclad as he’d like everyone to think. When the pressure mounts, Riddle Rosehearts regresses into a baby state — tantrums, crying, the whole nine yards. So much for the Queen of Hearts, huh?

 

And that temper? Explosive. Angry outbursts that shake the dorm’s foundations — but we all knew that, didn’t we? Anger issues I tell ya…

 

So next time you hear his stern orders, remember: the ‘small strict angry housewarden’ is just a big baby underneath it all. Crybaby Riddle needs his pacifier, and maybe a nap.”

 

#HeartslabyulBaby #TantrumKing #SoftLeader

---

The room fell into stunned silence.

 

Riddle’s grip tightened around the phone. His breath hitched. The carefully constructed wall he maintained cracked, revealing raw vulnerability beneath.

 

---

 

Students whispered, eyes darting nervously. Some stifled laughter, others shook their heads in disbelief.

 

Ace frowned, breaking the silence. “This is cruel.”

 

Deuce nodded, brows furrowed. “Riddle’s always been there for us. This isn’t him.”

 

Trey stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “Riddle, is this true?”

 

Riddle swallowed hard, voice rough. “...Yes. Sometimes. When the pressure  and stress gets too much, I… retreat.”

 

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stand tall again. “But I never wanted anyone to see that side. It’s weakness, mother would never allow it.”

 

Trey shook his head gently. “No. It’s strength to keep going, even when you’re scared.”

 

Cater’s eyes softened. “We all have parts of ourselves we hide. It doesn’t make you any less our leader.”

 

Riddle’s defenses wavered, the weight of judgment and misunderstanding pressing down.

 

---

 

Later that evening, Trey found Riddle alone in the dorm’s library, the faint glow of candlelight flickering against stacks of law books and strategy guides.

 

“Can we talk?” Trey asked quietly.

 

Riddle looked up, his usual stern expression softened by exhaustion. “I suppose.”

 

Trey took a seat beside him. “You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

 

Riddle’s gaze dropped. “I’ve always believed a leader must be perfect. Strong. Unyielding, that’s what mother told me.. and to be a leader.. you have to follow the rules.” 

 

“But even the strongest need a break,” Trey said. “No one expects you to be flawless.”

 

Riddle’s voice trembled. “I’m afraid... if they see the real me, they’ll lose respect. That I’m not capable of leading.”

 

Trey reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Riddle’s arm. “You’re not alone in this. We respect you because you’re honest and human.”

 

The tension broke, and Riddle allowed himself a quiet moment to lean into Trey’s steady presence.

 

---

 

 

 Bonus Scene: 

---

Outside of Heartslabyul.

 

The clock struck midnight when a soft tap echoed at Riddle’s door.

 

Floyd slipped in like he owned the place—because, well, he kind of did—grinning wildly as usual.

 

“Well, if it isn’t Goldfishyyyy” he teased, plopping down beside Riddle without waiting. “So the big small short tempered goldfish’ turns into a wailing baby, huh? Should I get you a pacifier or maybe a blankie?”

 

Riddle shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but Floyd just chuckled. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, Goldfishieee. You know I’m always gonna poke fun, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have your back.”

 

Riddle’s expression softened, a flicker of a smile breaking through his usual stoic mask. “You really mean that?”

 

“Seriously, Goldfish.” Floyd said, nudging Riddle’s arm with a grin. “I don’t care if you throw tantrums, regress into baby mode, or throw the angriest fits ever. You’re still the coolest.. well not Coolest.. but reddest Goldfish I know. And honestly? I kinda dig this soft side — makes you less scary to others.. less angry.”

 

Riddle blinked, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing.

 

Floyd leaned back, tossing a pillow behind his head. “Besides, someone’s gotta keep you from turning into a complete uptight bore. That’s my job, to stop you and then annoy you!” 

 

They sat together, Floyd’s playful teasing mixing with genuine warmth.

 

In that quiet moment, Floyd’s jokes weren’t just jokes — they were a lifeline, a way to say, “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

 

---

 

The exposer listens, behind a tree. 

 

“I guess it turned out good.. this is more like solving everyone’s problems then chaos. Eh, I’ll know it will be chaos when I get to Trey.. for leaving us..? I’ll expose every little thing about him… not everything but still. For leaving us like that..?”

Notes:

I love u guys so double chap and bonus. <3 mwa mwa kisses

Chapter 8: …Azure.

Summary:

Uhm. I got lazy. But long and behold trey

The whispers hadn’t died down.

 

Even after Riddle’s breakdown, the dorms were steeped in uneasy silence. Heartslabyul’s usual crisp order seemed fragile, as if the weight of secrets left exposed had carved cracks beneath the polished surface. The once-tight-knit group shuffled through their days with a bit more caution, eyes darting, questions unspoken yet heavy in the air.

 

And the question that buzzed under everyone’s breath wasn’t if there would be another target, but who.

 

For some, the idea of the exposer coming after Trey Clover, the dependable and steady “Mother/Father” of Heartslabyul, was almost unthinkable. But everyone knew, deep down, no one was safe.

 

---

 

---

Far away, in a dimly lit corner of the school, the exposer sat with a crooked grin, fingers dancing over the screen of their phone.

 

“Nice guys finish last?” they mused, the words laced with bitter amusement. “Too perfect, too clean… that’s why the ‘Parental Guide’needs to fall.”

 

The exposer leaned back, eyes gleaming with a mixture of cruelty and childish glee. Their target: Trey Clover. The calm center of Heartslabyul’s storm.

 

“If they think Riddle’s tantrums were a show, wait till they see what Trey’s *dreams* look like,” the exposer whispered to themselves, fingers twitching over the keyboard. “It’s not just sweet treats and smiles, after all…”

 

A few swift taps later, the post was live.

 

---

 

 

 

“Hello again, NRC~ Ready for todayyssss hot topic? Let’s talk about Heartslabyul’s  card soldier  Clover, Trey Clover—the sweet, calm baker everyone trusts to keep the peace. But what if I told you that behind that soft smile lies… a little bit of something… *odd*?

 

Ever ver heard of dreams? Yeah, well, Trey’s got one he’s probably *hoping* no one ever finds out about. Imagine this: your favorite dorm mates — turned into literal, rolling balls of fat, waddling helplessly because they can’t stop gobbling down Trey’s own sweets. No walking, no standing — just endless, blubbery rolling chaos, all thanks to him.

 

Sounds like a cute fantasy, right? Wrong. It’s twisted. It’s a fetish. And it’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you question the ‘perfect Parental vibe he’s been selling.

 

What’s even creepier? He’s smiling while they’re stuck like that in his head. Enjoying it. Maybe he likes being the only one standing while everyone else is too stuffed to move.

 

So, watch your backs, Heartslabyul. The calmest one might just be hiding the wildest dreams.”

 

#RollingSecrets #BakerBoyBizarre #HeartslabyulHeavyweights#FatFetish..?

 

--- 

---

HEARTSLABYUL LOUNGE

 

 

The post spread like wildfire. Phones buzzed in every corner, students swapping shocked whispers and biting glances.

 

In the Heartslabyul lounge, Cater’s fingers trembled slightly as he scrolled through the feed, reading the words aloud with disbelief.

 

“This can’t be real… right? Trey wouldn’t…”

 

Deuce sat rigid, jaw clenched tight. “It’s too specific. And… cruel.”

 

Ace frowned, voice low. “If it’s true, no wonder Trey’s always so calm… What kind of person dreams about doing that to his own friends? I can’t even imagine.. he thinks of us as fat asses??”

 

The room filled with a heavy silence as eyes turned toward the empty chair Trey usually occupied.

 

---

---

 

Trey had tried to keep his composure all day. The familiar steady smile, the patient nods, the usual gentle words — but inside, everything was unraveling.

 

The cruel image from the exposer’s post haunted him: his friends, helpless and bloated, reduced to caricatures of his own restless mind.

 

He hadn’t meant for the dream to be known — it was his escape, a bizarre, private world where sweets reigned and order broke down in a way he could control.

 

Now, it was out. And suddenly, that dream made him seem like a monster.

 

Whispers followed him through the halls, strangers' eyes lingering longer than they should.

 

Worst of all was the doubt flickering in Riddle’s gaze. Trey’s heart twisted with the fear that his closest friend might see him differently now — not as the steady rock, but as a secret betrayer, just for how he saw them.

 

---

---

 

But Heartslabyul wasn’t about to let Trey face this alone.

 

Ace was the first to break the ice, slipping beside Trey with a quiet, “Hey, you don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

 

Deuce, always earnest, nodded firmly. “We all have pasts. Yours is just… more visible now. But it doesn’t change who you are to us, I mean it does but..yeah!”

 

Cater, despite his nervousness, added, “Besides, no one’s perfect. And we know you better than that..?”

 

Riddle approached last, his usual stern mask softening. “No matter what, you’re still my roommate. Still my friend from kids, We’ll face this together.”

 

Trey felt the weight begin to lift — but the fear didn’t vanish completely.

 

---

---

 

Later that night, Trey found himself alone with Riddle in their dorm room.

 

“I’m scared,” Trey confessed quietly. “That this changes how you see me. That maybe… I’m not who you thought I was.”

 

Riddle’s eyes met his with surprising gentleness. “You’re not perfect, Trey. And that’s okay. Everyone has secrets, strange dreams, things they don’t want to share.”

 

He paused, searching Trey’s face. “But you’ve never stopped being you. And I trust you. More than anyone.”

 

Trey exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening.

 

---

---

 

Far away, the exposer refreshed their feed, satisfaction curling in their smile.

 

“One step closer,” they murmured. “The calm is breaking… NRC won’t be peaceful.

 

 

Notes:

ok, I’ve been out all day. Mb. And I’m sleepy so. Yh.

Short chap

Chapter 9: Artíc blue

Summary:

Azul… they got u.

NRC was quieter than usual. Not silent—never truly silent, not with Savanaclaw brawls and Octavinelle’s constant undercurrents of deals—but quieter. After Trey’s exposure, the usual buzz of the hallways carried a different weight, tinged with unease, no one could even look at Trey the same.

 

Heartslabyul had been ripped apart piece by piece. Deuce, Ace, Cater, Riddle, and Trey had all been targeted. The school watched, waiting.

 

Who could possibly be next?

 

For the exposer, the answer was obvious. Heartslabyul had been fun, but Octavinelle? That was fertile ground. Especially when its clever leader had something he never wanted the school to see, they got the info from people who saw his OB! 

 

 

 

---

NRCDeepestSecrets pinged across the school at precisely 10:13 a.m., a time students had grown to dread. Conversations halted. Phones buzzed in unison.

 

The message began almost conversationally, like someone leaning across a lunch table to whisper.

 

NRCdeepestsecrets; 

“morning, NRC~ I thought we could take a break from Heartslabyul’s  fetish show…and… diversify today’s entertainment. After all, isn’t it boring if one dorm gets all the attention? Today, we’re diving into Octavinelle’s very own businessman, Azul Ashengrotto.

 

We all know him, right? Slick suit, calm smile, silver tongue, business man… oh did I forget, crybaby?” The guy who can make anyone sign a contract and walk away thinking they won. Our confident, untouchable Housewarden. Or… so he wants you to think.

 

See, Azul wasn’t always the smooth operator you know now. Back in his youth, under the sea, he was known by another name: ‘Octo-pot.’ The chubby little cephalopod who hid in pots because he couldn’t bear anyone seeing him. A kid mocked for every wobble, every bit of softness, every time he cried when they teased him.

 

He’s  worked so hard to bury that past, but don’t be fooled. That scared, desperate little octopus is still there, clawing beneath the surface every time someone looks too long or laughs too loud. He built his empire to make sure no one *ever* sees him as weak again. But deep down? He’s still the same kid, terrified the world will laugh at him the moment his perfect mask slips.

 

So here’s your reminder, NRC: your ‘master of deals’ was once just ‘Octo-pot,’ and maybe… he still is. A slick suit can’t change what’s under the shell."

 

*#OctopotReturns # #DealWithThat

#fatty🤣

 

---

 

---

 

The reactions came fast. Screens lit up across the cafeteria, in lecture halls, even on the Mostro Lounge floor.

 

Students whispered with wide-eyed glee or thinly veiled pity. “Octo-pot? Like… a fat little kid?” one Savanaclaw second-year snorted. Others scrolled back through the feed, looking for details, some laughing, some uncomfortable.

 

Even without photos—thankfully, the exposer hadn’t found any—Azul could feel every mocking gaze like a harpoon.

 

He sat alone in his office, the usual air of control shattered. Papers lay untouched, contracts half-filled. He couldn’t bring himself to step into the Lounge, not with the word “Octo-pot” echoing in his ears from every whispered corner.

 

His hands, usually so steady, trembled as he adjusted his glasses. He wanted to scream. To deny. To threaten legal action, maybe. But the post wasn’t false. It was worse: it was the truth, twisted into something he could never outrun.

 

The Azul Ashengrotto everyone respected—the ambitious businessman, the schemer, the confident smile—felt like a mask stretched too thin. One more word, one more laugh, and it might tear completely.

 

And that terrified him more than the name itself.

 

---

 

---

A knock broke the tense silence. Azul tensed, swallowing hard.

 

“Go away,” he called, his voice low, rougher than usual.

 

The door creaked open anyway. Floyd sauntered in, all loose limbs and easy grin, Jade trailing close behind, calm and poised.

 

“zuzuuu~” Floyd sing-songed, flopping onto the couch without invitation. “You’re all gloomy in here! NRC’s calling you ‘Octo-pot’? Pfft, who cares? I think it’s funny.”

 

Azul shot him a glare, shoulders tight. “Funny? Floyd, do you understand how humiliating this is? The entire school—”

 

“—thinks you used to be a chubby little crybaby, yeah, yeah.” Floyd cut him off, lounging upside down on the cushions. “So what? You’re not that now. And if they laugh, I can squeeze ‘em till they pop like balloons. Easy fix.”

 

Jade’s quiet chuckle broke through before Azul could snap back. “What dear Floyd means, Azul, is that none of this changes who you are now. The students will talk, but their attention spans are… remarkably short. Soon enough, they’ll find another morsel of gossip to devour.”

 

Azul’s breath shuddered, his voice softer. “It’s not just gossip. It’s… everything I built, everything I worked for, reduced to a name I thought I left behind.”

 

Floyd tilted his head, upside down still, eyes gleaming. “Then prove ‘em wrong, zuzu. Or let me handle it. I’ll squeeze the exposer if you want. Real slow.”

 

Azul almost smiled at that—almost.

 

Jade knelt slightly, lowering his voice so only Azul could hear. “Or… you can simply outlast them, as you always do. This doesn’t define you, Azul. It never has.”

 

For a moment, Azul let himself breathe, leaning back in his chair as the twins’ contrasting presences grounded him—the chaos and the calm.

 

---

---

The Mostro Lounge was quiet after hours, the lights dimmed to soft blues. Azul lingered at the bar, swirling a glass of water he hadn’t touched. His reflection stared back, faintly distorted.

 

Footsteps approached—measured, soft. Jade slid onto the stool beside him, resting his chin on one hand.

 

“Still awake, Azul? You’ll give yourself frown lines at this rate.”

 

Azul sighed. “Sleep doesn’t come easily when half the school is laughing behind your back.”

 

Jade tilted his head, a glimmer of amusement in his mismatched eyes. “They laugh because they can. Not because it changes who you are. You’re still Azul Ashengrotto. The same ambitious, clever man who can outwit nearly anyone here.”

 

Azul glanced at him, faintly wary. “Even if they only see… ‘Octo-pot’ now?”

 

Jade’s smile was subtle, reassuring yet edged with something softer. “Let them. Their laughter doesn’t reach where it matters. And besides…” His voice lowered just slightly, teasing. “…I don’t mind imagining a little round octopus. Perhaps I’d have found you charming even then.”

 

Azul’s cheeks colored faintly, though he rolled his eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

 

Jade leaned closer, tone dipping into something warmer. “Perhaps. But I do mean it, Azul. You’re not alone in this. Not now, not ever.”

 

For a long moment, the two sat in silence, the soft hum of the Lounge filling the air.

 

Azul’s grip on his glass steadied. “Thank you, Jade. Truly. But…” His voice firmed, a glint of determination flickering back. “…this exposer won’t get the last laugh. I won’t let them drag me back into the pot I crawled out of.”

 

Jade’s smile widened, faintly predatory yet fond. “That’s the Azul I know.”

 

---

---

 

Somewhere in the shadows of NRC, the exposer refreshed their feed, watching the chaos ripple outward.

 

“Octo-pot made waves,” they murmured, smirking faintly. “But the tide isn’t done turning. Oh, no. The real storm’s still coming.”

 

“Let’s see who sinks next.”

 

---

A lil bonus. 

 

 

“Sooo..~ you told the exposer, Jade?”

 

“Mm…yeah, did you?”

 

“Yep!”

 

“So we’re both guilty.”

 

“Seems like it… but at least you made a move…”

 

“It seems so.”

 

”Good night, Floyd.”

 

“Nini, Jade.”

 

Notes:

Should I rest or do a double chap. I have the bed 2 pre written so they shouldn’t be this late

Chapter 10: Sapphire

Summary:

They gots floyddddd~

 

The school still hadn’t recovered from the chaos surrounding Azul. The whispers about “Octo-pot” lingered like sea foam after a storm, clinging to every hallway and group chat. Azul had steadied himself thanks to his ever-faithful eels, but NRC was still restless.

 

And for the exposer, restlessness was opportunity.

 

Heartslabyul had crumbled, Azul had been unmasked, and now? Now it was time to strike a little deeper into Octavinelle itself.

 

The next message would be simple, but sharp. After all, why ruin the fun with theatrics when the truth was sharp enough to cut by itself?

 

“I’m really gonna enjoy this, it isn’t hard to guess how he is with the amount of time I spent near him.”

 

---

It came mid-afternoon, cutting through the lull between classes. Phones buzzed, the feed refreshed, and a new post blinked onto the screen.

---

NRCdeepestSecrets; “Hey NRC, Let’s talk about someone… unpredictable today. You know him, you hear him before you see him, and you probably flinch when you do: Floyd Leech.

 

We all know Floyd’s a wildcard, right? Big mood swings, loves to squeeze people ‘til they squeak, shows up when you least want him to. But here’s the thing—people laugh it off. They call him funny (when he can be.) , playful,  scary. But deep down? You’re all afraid of him. And maybe you should be.

 

He isn’t just messing around. Floyd gets bored. And when he does, he wants something—someone—to break. It’s not a game to him. He doesn’t care if he goes too far, if someone gets hurt, as long as it’s fun for him. He’ll grin, hum, and make it all sound like a joke, but we all know: Floyd Leech is a ticking time bomb. Not a prankster. Not harmless. Just waiting to pop.

 

”So, next time he smiles at you? Ask yourself—are you a friend, or are you his next toy?”

 

#TickTockFloyd #UnpredictableEel #Don’tGetSqueezed

 

---

---

 

The effect was immediate.

 

Whispers spread through the halls and over lunch tables. “Ticking time bomb” started trending on Magicam within an hour, paired with shaky-cam videos of Floyd laughing after a Spelldrive practice brawl, or leaning a little too close to a nervous first-year in the Lounge.

 

Savanaclaw students avoided eye contact when he strolled past. Pomefiore students whispered and scattered. Even Heartslabyul’s boldest kept their voices down when he drifted near, humming to himself as if he didn’t hear.

 

Floyd noticed, of course. How could he not? The glances, the way people stepped just slightly out of his reach, like he was some hungry moray waiting to bite.

 

Normally, he’d laugh. Maybe squeeze someone just to watch them squirm. But today?

 

Today, it just felt… quiet. Too quiet.

 

He leaned against the wall outside the Mostro Lounge, chewing absently on the string of his uniform hoodie, watching the crowds part for him without a word. His grin didn’t reach his eyes.

 

Was he scary? Sure. But he wasn’t a bomb. He wasn’t *that*. He liked fun, chaos, a little squeeze now and then… but he wasn’t a monster.

 

At least, he didn’t think so.

 

---

 

 

The twins’ dorm room door clicked open with a soft hiss. Floyd sprawled on his bed, face buried in his pillow, humming tunelessly. The sound was too flat to be his usual singsong tone.

 

Jade slipped in first, calm as ever, with Azul following reluctantly, a contract still in his hand.

 

“My, my,” Jade mused, shutting the door quietly. “Quite the dreary atmosphere. Did the whispers finally reach you, Floyd?”

 

Floyd mumbled into the pillow, voice muffled. “M’not mad. Just… bored. Everyone’s acting like I’m some monster waiting to chomp their heads off. Not fun when nobody wants to play anymore.”

 

Azul sighed, setting his papers down on the desk. “You *do* have a reputation, Floyd. The exposer merely… amplified it. Perhaps you shouldn’t squeeze people quite so enthusiastically if you don’t want to be seen as—”

 

Floyd’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Careful, zuzu. Don’t start, or maybe I’ll squeeze *you* next.”

 

Jade placed a hand on Floyd’s shoulder, steering the tension away as smoothly as ever. “Now, now. We’re not here to scold, Floyd. We’re here to remind you… none of this truly matters. The students will tire of their gossip. And besides, those who avoid you? They weren’t worth your time to begin with.”

 

Floyd huffed, flopping back. “Still boring. If no one wants to hang around me, what’s the point? I’ll get all gloomy like Goldfishie when he got exposed.”

 

Azul muttered something under his breath about *never* being compared to Riddle, but Jade chuckled softly.

 

“Then perhaps you should focus on the ones who *don’t* flinch, hmm? Like us. Or…” His smile curved faintly, knowing. “Certain little red-haired dorm leaders you seem fond of teasing.”

 

Floyd’s grin crept back, sharper this time. “Mmm… maybe. Goldfishie doesn’t scare easy. He gets all puffy and angry..  He’s fun.”

 

Azul rubbed his temples. “As long as you keep your chaos focused where it won’t get us more attention, fine. But remember: this exposer wants us off-balance. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

 

Floyd’s grin widened. “Oh, I won’t. I’m gonna make this game *fun* for me, too.”

 

---

 

 

Later that night, the Moonlight Garden was quiet, glowing faintly under scattered stars. Riddle sat stiffly on a bench, his book balanced on his lap, the faint furrow between his brows betraying his distraction.

 

A sudden weight dropped onto the bench beside him. Long limbs sprawled casually.

 

“Hey, Goldfishie~” Floyd drawled, head tilting lazily to watch Riddle’s startled glance. “Why’re you out here all alone? Thought you’d be hiding from the big scary eel by now. Everyone else is.”

 

Riddle straightened, meeting Floyd’s gaze evenly despite the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “I don’t run from rumors. And I don’t see you as… frightening, Floyd. Irritating, perhaps. But not frightening.”

 

Floyd’s grin softened, losing a bit of its edge. “Heh. That’s why you’re fun, Goldfishie. You puff up, scold me, but you never run, like not in a playing sense. Makes me wanna stick around.”

 

Riddle’s face reddened slightly, though his tone remained measured. “If you’re only here to tease, I’d prefer you find another target.”

 

Floyd leaned closer, voice lowering to a conspiratorial hum. “Nah. I like you. You don’t treat me like a bomb. You make me feel…happy. Not just a game.”

 

Riddle blinked, lips parting as the words sank in. Floyd rarely got this honest.

 

“…You’re not a bomb, Floyd,” Riddle said quietly, glancing aside. “You’re just… you. And if the rest of the school can’t handle that, that’s their problem.”

 

Floyd’s smile curved softer still, almost genuine. “Heh. Thanks, Goldfishie. Guess I’ll keep you around.”

 

Riddle sighed, closing his book. “I didn’t realize I had a choice.”

 

“Ya don’t,” Floyd grinned, resting his head lazily against Riddle’s shoulder. “But I’ll go easy. For now.”

 

For once, Riddle didn’t shove him off.

 

---

---

 

Back in Octavinelle, Floyd stared out the window, watching the moonlight ripple across the water. His grin lingered, but his eyes gleamed sharper, more thoughtful.

 

“They think I’m a bomb, huh?” he murmured, voice low. “Guess I’ll show ‘em… sometimes bombs go off where you *least* expect… to give my own info like that to him? It hurts. But at least Jade didn’t go a long shot.”

 

Somewhere, NRCDeepestSecrets lit up again as the exposer had a draft. 

 

The game wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

 

Notes:

I’m early wow, I rlly love theories and was we continue on.. I’ll rev more things. And maybe idk.. there’s hints in that..? Maybe. maybe I said one if one of the comments?

Chapter 11: Teal

Summary:

Jade.. babs.

Notes:

I gave MAJOR hints

 

The aftermath of Floyd’s exposure had left Octavinelle swirling in a mix of fear, fascination, and an uneasy quiet. His post cracked open the wild heart of the dorm, exposing raw edges beneath the eel’s playful chaos. But the exposer wasn’t done. Far from it.

 

Where Floyd was the crashing wave, loud and impossible to ignore, Jade Leech was the undertow—quiet, constant, and far more dangerous in his calmness.

 

In the wake of Floyd’s storm, the focus subtly shifted to the twin who wore serenity like a mask, his expression unshakably polite while his gaze seemed to dissect those around him. The exposer saw it clearly, and the next message was waiting to pull the curtain back on Jade’s carefully maintained façade.

 

“…and you’re sure to give this..?”

 

“I think it’s fair in return, isn’t it?”

 

“I guess so… I just had enough of the trio, but it doesn’t suprise me if my dorm is next, not like I care… as long  _____, doesn’t get exposed..”

 

“Great to make this deal with you.”

---

 

NRCDeepestSecrets; “I’m back, and with a new story. So you think you know the twins of Octavinelle? One’s loud, obvious chaos. The other? A much darker story."

 

Let’s talk about Jade Leech — the ‘collected’ one, the polite observer who smiles like he’s seen every secret and plans to use them all. Floyd’s antics get all the attention, but Jade? Jade is the real puppet master hiding behind that calm face.

 

Jade’s politeness isn’t kindness. It’s a carefully crafted tool. Every tilt of his head, every soft-spoken word, is calculated to test your limits. He watches, studies, pokes at your weak spots, not because he wants power or fame — but simply because he *enjoys* watching people unravel. The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous, the tiny twitch of your hand when you’re lying — he sees it all, and it fascinates him.

 

It’s not just curiosity. It’s manipulation, masked as care. Jade doesn’t just want to understand you — he wants to *control* your reactions, like a scientist experimenting with fragile glassware, cracking it just to see how it breaks.

 

So don’t mistake his calm for innocence. He’s not the soothing twin you think he is. Jade Leech is dangerous. Not with fists or fury, but with a mind sharper than any blade. And he’s watching you right now."

 

#CuriousPredator #JadeTheManipulator #SmileWithSharpTeeth

 

---

 

 

Unlike Floyd’s explosive, brash exposure, Jade’s revelation spread like a cold fog creeping into every corner of NRC.

 

Groups once comfortable with him now lowered their voices when he passed. The polite nods and soft greetings felt heavier, charged with an unspoken question: What is Jade really thinking?

 

Whispers floated down the hallways. “Have you noticed how Jade’s eyes never miss a thing? Like he’s collecting dirt for some future game.”

 

Another voice muttered, “I don’t know what’s worse—Floyd’s chaos or Jade’s quiet smile when someone stumbles.”

 

Even within Octavinelle, the tension was palpable. Floyd’s teasing jokes turned quieter, edged with something more serious. “He’s messing with people’s heads in a way I don’t like,” Floyd admitted one afternoon, leaning against the glowing coral wall of their dorm. “It’s not fun anymore.”

 

Azul’s gaze was thoughtful and guarded. “The exposer isn’t merely revealing truths — they’re testing the bonds that hold us. Jade’s role as the calm center is under threat, and that can be dangerous for all of us.”

 

---

 

 

 

That evening, Jade was alone in their dorm room. The glow of bioluminescent coral painted the space in soft blues, reflecting the ripples he traced absently with slender fingers. His calm expression betrayed nothing, but inside, the weight of suspicion pressed heavily on him.

 

The door slid open without a sound. Floyd’s usual brash energy was dimmed, replaced by a rare softness.

 

“Hey,” he said quietly, dropping onto the bed beside Jade. “They’re painting you like some cold-hearted puppeteer.”

 

Jade’s gaze flicked up, steady and unflinching. “They fear what they cannot comprehend. I do not manipulate for cruelty, but for understanding. It is not a game to me. It is *curiosity*.”

 

Floyd grunted, skeptical but gentle. “Still… doesn’t mean they have to be scared. They think you enjoy watching people break.”

 

Azul entered then, closing the door softly behind him. His voice was calm but firm. “We see you, Jade. Not the image they paint, but the truth behind the mask.”

 

Jade allowed himself a small, fragile smile. “Your faith is my anchor.”

 

Floyd nudged him with a grin. “If anyone pushes you too far, just say the word. I’ll squeeze them till they regret it, I care for ya, you know? My first friend ever and my brother.”

 

Azul chuckled, his usual smirk returning. “And I’ll draft contracts to make sure they think twice.”

 

For a moment, the three shared silence — a quiet fortress against the creeping chill of doubt.

 

---

 

 

 

Later, when the dorm had settled and the world outside was drowned in midnight silence, Jade sat at the water’s edge, the soft glow of coral dancing in his reflective eyes.

 

Azul approached, hesitant but determined. “Jade,” he began, voice low and intimate, “you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to always be the calm center.”

 

Jade’s eyes softened, the mask slipping just enough to reveal vulnerability. “With you, I can let my guard down. I can be less than flawless.”

 

Azul reached out, gently tucking a damp strand of hair behind Jade’s ear. “That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

 

The smile that followed was no longer a mask, but genuine warmth. “Thank you, Azul. You are my calm in the chaos.”

 

They sat side by side, letting the silence speak what words could not — two souls quietly healing amidst the storm.

 

---

Notes:

I hope u enjoy.

Chapter 12: Amber

Summary:

Jamil.

Notes:

Here’s Jamil, I won’t really do daily? Like I’ll keep updating but not daily because trying to do this daily and writing this is stressful.

-

 

Octavinelle had been buzzing like a disturbed reef after Jade’s exposure, but the tension didn’t stop there.

NRCDeepestSecrets thrived on momentum, and the dorms could feel it—a ripple of anticipation, like a tide receding before a wave hits.

Scarabia was next. Everyone knew it.

 

Jamil Viper felt it worst of all. He wasn’t naïve. The exposer never stayed quiet for long, and someone as *notorious*—yet invisible—as him? A perfect target.

The dorm’s sunlit courtyards, the hum of Kalim’s ceaseless chatter, the rhythmic drums of dancers… it all grated against his nerves now. Too bright. Too loud. Too oblivious.

He could practically *feel* the exposer’s gaze even when the sun set, and he knew? He had it coming.

 

And, of course, he was right.

 

---

 

NRCDeepestSecrets: 

Hey NRC~, missed me? Of course you did. It’s been too quiet, hasn’t it? Don’t worry — I’m back with a little heat for our sunny Scarabia.

 

Today’s star? Jamil Viper — the perfect servant, the ever-loyal vice housewarden, the calm shadow to Kalim Al-Asim’s blazing sun. The boy who smiles, bows, and cleans up everyone else’s messes… all while plotting behind those tired eyes.

 

Oh, don’t act shocked. You’ve all seen it, haven’t you? The way Jamil is always one step behind Kalim — not because he loves serving, but because he has no choice. He resents every second. Every order. Every party. Every time Kalim basks in adoration while Jamil does the work, Jamil swallows his anger like poison.

 

But here’s the fun part: Jamil’s not just bitter. He’s cunning. Behind that polite face is someone who can (and will) bend the rules, manipulate his peers, even *hypnotize* his so-called friends, all to taste the freedom he’s been denied since childhood. He’ll smile while he stirs the pot, then step back and let others burn.

 

You pity him? Don’t. He doesn’t need pity. He needs power. And until he gets it, he’ll keep seething in silence, dreaming of a day when he’s not just Kalim’s shadow… but Kalim’s better.

 

Scarabia, watch your golden boy’s snake. That fanged smile isn’t just for show."

 

#SnakeInTheSand #ShadowToTheSun #BitterButBrilliant

 

---

 

 Whispers in the Deserts

---

 

By midday, Scarabia felt… wrong.

The dorm’s usually vibrant energy had curdled into something uneasy. The drums were quieter. Laughter, muted. Dancers exchanged uncertain glances when Jamil passed.

 

It wasn’t just Scarabia. Word had slithered across all of NRC like smoke.

 

“Did you see the post?”

“He hypnotized half the dorm during winter break… what if he’s still doing it?”

“I knew he hated Kalim, but like… enough to betray us all?”

“Do you think he actually wants to take over Scarabia? Maybe the whole school?”

 

The pitying stares were worse than the suspicion. Some students looked at him as if he were fragile glass, about to crack under Kalim’s shadow. Others… like he was the predator the exposer painted.

Neither felt good.

 

---

 

 

He hated this. The whispers. The glances. The way every nod of his head or measured smile now felt… staged, like he was *performing* the role they’d cast him in.

Snake. Manipulator. Jealous servant.

 

They weren’t wrong, not entirely.

He had resented Kalim — *resented him deeply*. He had bent the rules, spun a little magic to tip the scales, even daydreamed of a life where he was *free*.

But to have it all dragged into the light, twisted into something monstrous for strangers to gawk at…

 

He gripped the edge of Scarabia’s balcony, knuckles whitening.

If he closed his eyes, he could hear Kalim’s laughter echoing below, oblivious. Always oblivious.

And a cruel part of him thought, *Maybe they’re right. Maybe I do want to take it all, just once. Maybe I want to stop being the shadow.*

 

The thought made him sick.

Not because it wasn’t true… but because it was.

 

---

 

 

Even Kalim, usually as unshakable as the desert sun, felt the shift. He noticed how Jamil lingered in corners now, quieter than usual, the usual smooth composure a little *too* practiced.

He noticed how people avoided standing too close to him, as if he might hypnotize them by accident.

 

At dinner, the silence around Jamil was deafening.

Kalim finally broke it, his voice too loud for the tense room:

“Jamil! Sit next to me, yeah? Everyone’s being weird. Don’t let them get to you!”

 

The looks that followed weren’t comforting. They were curious. Pitying. Doubtful.

Jamil excused himself halfway through, claiming a headache.

 

The whispers followed him out.

 

---

 

 

Later that night, Kalim found him on the balcony again, staring at the moonlit dunes.

 

“Jamil,” Kalim said softly, more serious than usual, “you can’t just… disappear on me. Not when everyone’s acting like this.”

 

Jamil didn’t turn. His voice was smooth, but flat. “What do you expect me to do? Smile and pretend none of it’s true? Pretend I’m not everything they say I am?”

 

Kalim stepped closer. “You’re not, though. Not like they’re saying. Yeah, you’re smart. Yeah, you’ve… done things. But you’re also *you*. You’ve always had my back, even when you didn’t want to. That counts for something, right?”

 

Silence. The dunes whispered below.

 

Finally, Jamil’s voice cracked—just a fraction.

“They’ll never see me as anything but the servant. The shadow. Even now, even with all my effort, I’m just the snake waiting to strike in their eyes.”

 

Kalim reached out, resting a warm hand on Jamil’s shoulder. “Then I’ll stand in front of you. Let *them* talk. I know who you are.”

 

For the first time all day, Jamil let himself exhale. Just a little.

 

---

 

 

Later, after the dorm had gone still, Kalim lingered by Jamil’s room. The moonlight filtered in, painting pale silver lines across the floor.

 

“You don’t have to talk,” Kalim murmured, leaning lightly against the doorframe. “Just… don’t push me away tonight.”

 

Jamil didn’t respond with words, but he moved aside just enough for Kalim to step in.

No grand gestures. No declarations. Just two figures sitting side by side on the edge of Jamil’s bed, Kalim’s warmth brushing against Jamil’s tense frame.

 

For once, the silence wasn’t heavy.

It felt… steady.

 

And when Kalim’s head dipped lightly against Jamil’s shoulder, Jamil didn’t pull away.

He let the quiet speak for him.

 

---

 

 

Elsewhere, a phone screen glowed faintly in the dark.

The exposer scrolled through the reactions, the whispers, the outrage.

A smirk tugged at their lips.

 

“Poor snake. Poor servant. Poor little shadow boy,” they hummed softly, almost sing-song. “At least he’s got his sun to keep him warm, for now.”

 

Their fingers hovered over the screen, drafting the next header.

 

"Kalim Al-Asim… how bright can the sun burn before it scorches itself?”

 

They chuckled, saving the draft for morning.

“Oh, Scarabia. You’re going to *love* this.”

 

Notes:

I hope u guys enjoy

Chapter 13

Summary:

I took a small break but, I am back. Might do double as an apology.

Notes:

Mwa

The heat in Scarabia wasn’t from the desert air. It was in the silence that clung to the dorm like suffocating sand, in the way laughter cracked but never reached the eyes.

 

Ever since Jamil’s name bled across NRCDeepestSecrets, Scarabia had been trembling. Not visibly—Kalim made sure of that. He smiled brighter, threw more parties, filled the halls with music and warm spices like he could drown the whispers in saffron and honey.

 

But when the crowd faded, when the drums quieted, the stillness crept back in, and Kalim felt it—like the cool shadow of a snake across his bare neck.

 

“Jamil… are you still angry, do you still… hate me?”

 

He’d asked that question a hundred times, in a hundred softer ways. Each time, Jamil only smiled that small, careful smile and said, “Of course not, Kalim.”

 

But Kalim knew. He knew Jamil’s voice when it bent under strain, like a reed in harsh wind. He knew when words were chains instead of threads of trust.

 

And sometimes—just sometimes—when he caught Jamil staring out at the dunes, Kalim felt something twist in his chest. Not fear. Not sadness. Something darker, hotter, like the sun flaring behind his ribs.

 

“You’re still mine, right?"

 

The thought startled him every time it came, sharp as shattered glass.

 

---

 

Phones pinged in the middle of the day. A ripple tore through NRC’s calm, a wave of laughter, disbelief, and something sharper—curiosity laced with poison.

 

The feed read:

 

---

 

NRCDeepestSecrets; “Oh, NRC~ Did you think I was done?  I just took a small break, that's all, the snake was fun, the other day..but today… today we burn.

 

Let’s talk about Kalim Al-Asim—the shining sun of Scarabia. The boy who smiles so wide it blinds you. The boy who says ‘we’re friends’ while standing on mountains of gold you’ll never touch. The boy who calls it kindness when he chains someone down with obligations they can’t escape.

 

You love him, don’t you? Everyone does. How could you not? He’s rich. He’s cheerful. He gives and gives and gives… until you owe him everything. Until you’re drowning in his generosity like quicksand, smiling because what else can you do?

 

But here’s the truth: Kalim doesn’t just like being your friend. He likes being needed. He likes being worshipped. And maybe—just maybe—he likes that Jamil will never be free of him. Likes having his perfect, polite little snake coiled around his throne like a collar.

 

You think he’s harmless? That sunshine doesn’t burn? Ask yourself this: If Kalim’s smile ever faltered, if his eyes ever went cold—would you still think he’s just a boy who wants to play? Or would you see the desert king waiting underneath

 

“Smile, NRC. The sun’s watching you.”

 

#GoldenChains #DesertKing #NotSoInnocent*

 

---

 

 

It didn’t take long.

 

The post spread faster than wildfire on dry dunes. By dinner, the entire school was buzzing, and not even Kalim’s brightest smile could blind them to the cracks.

 

“He… what? That’s ridiculous! Kalim? Manipulative?"

"You ever notice how he always talks about ‘what’s mine is yours’? Like, he owns everything."

“And Jamil… oh, Seven. Poor guy."

 

Scarlet whispers painted the halls. Laughter laced with unease. And Kalim—sweet, clueless Kalim—just kept smiling.

 

Except… that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes tonight.

 

---

 

 

Leona sprawled across the Savannaclaw lounge, phone dangling from his claws.

 

”Tch. Figures. Sunshine prince finally gets some shade thrown on him."

 

Ruggie snickered nearby. "Guess money can’t buy innocence, huh?"

 

Leona’s smirk sharpened. “Kid’s been too soft for too long. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s hiding fangs behind that grin. You don’t grow up on gold without learning to bite.”

 

---

 

Azul leaned back in Mostro Lounge, eyes glittering like polished coins.

 

“Now this… this is fascinating,” he murmured, a finger tapping his chin. “The golden boy with a darker streak. People adore him, but fear spreads faster than love. If I play my cards right…"

 

Jade chuckled from behind, voice smooth as oil. “You’ve always had a fondness for storms, Azul. But careful—some suns burn hotter than you expect.”

 

---

 

Riddle, upon reading the post, went stiff. His voice, when he spoke, was crisp as ice.

 

“If even half of this is true, it’s deeply irresponsible. Kindness without boundaries breeds chaos. One cannot purchase loyalty with extravagance and expect it to be true.”

 

---

 

Kalim didn’t cry when he read the post.

 

He laughed. Bright, sharp, too loud in the empty room.

 

“Me? Controlling? That’s—" His voice cracked, the sound tearing like silk.

 

The phone slipped from his fingers. He stared at the ceiling, heart hammering against his ribs like it wanted out.

 

Is that… what they think of me?

 

The words coiled in his mind, hissing like sand snakes.

 

Do they really think I’d hurt anyone? That I’d—

 

The thought froze. Fractured.

 

Because a voice inside him whispered: You like it.

 

And Kalim hated that it didn’t sound like a lie.

 

He thought of Jamil—Jamil kneeling, Jamil smiling, Jamil always there.

 

Always his.

 

And something inside Kalim curled, dark and hot, a flame that no amount of water could smother.

 

"If I stopped smiling… would you leave me, Jamil?"

 

The silence didn’t answer.

 

---

 

Jamil found him on the balcony that night, bathed in silver moonlight. Kalim’s back was to him, shoulders trembling—not with sobs, but something heavier, darker.

 

"Kalim."

 

The name was soft, like a tether pulling him back. Kalim turned, and for the first time in years, his smile was gone.

 

"Jamil… do you think I’m a bad person?"

 

Jamil blinked, startled. “What? No—of course not."

 

"They think I am,"Kalim whispered. His voice shook. "They think I’m selfish. That I like keeping you chained to me. That I’m… dangerous."

 

Jamil stepped closer. "It’s a lie. People just… want drama."

 

But Kalim’s laugh—low, broken—sent a chill through him.

 

"What if it’s true?" Kalim’s eyes gleamed, something sharp and molten lurking beneath the gold. "What if I like that you’ll never leave me? That you need me as much as I need you?"

 

Jamil froze. The night pressed like a blade between them.

 

Then Kalim crumpled, the fire snuffed by a wave of despair. He collapsed into Jamil’s arms, voice raw.

 

"Don’t leave me. Please. I don’t care what they say—I can’t lose you too."

 

Jamil held him, stiff at first, then tighter, grounding him. "I’m not going anywhere, Kalim."

 

But deep down, he wondered which scared him more—the trembling boy in his arms… or the king sleeping beneath his smile.

 

---

 

The next day, Kalim wandered into the courtyard, forcing cheer back onto his face. That’s when he found them—Cater, Floyd, and Ruggie lounging under a tree.

 

"Heyaaaa, sunshine!" Cater waved, grin wide. "Wild post yesterday, huh? Didn’t know you had a spicy side, kalim~”

 

Kalim laughed nervously. "I-I don’t! It’s all lies."

 

Floyd slithered closer, grin stretching sharp. "Ehehe… I dunno. I kinda like it. Goldie hiding fangs? That’s fun. Makes me wanna squeeze ya till you show ’em."

 

Kalim stiffened.

 

Ruggie snorted. "Here’s the thing, rich boy: generosity’s just another leash. Maybe you didn’t mean it, but chains are chains, ya know?"

 

Kalim’s smile faltered—but only for a breath. Then it snapped back, bright as ever.

 

“You guys are so silly! I’d never hurt anyone."

 

But when he walked away, Floyd’s laugh followed him, sweet and cruel.

 

“Sure, Goldie. Sure."

 

---

 

 

Later that night, a new post slid onto the feed, it was new. The exposer never teased like this. But for anyone to know, if they were to make this post about him.. it’s coming from a second year.

 

“The sun burns bright… but what happens when the  hyena  comes out of the shadows? NRC, are you ready to meet the beast in the savanna?"

Chapter 14: I’m baxk

Summary:

ihm

hi guys so I’m back , after a long break and writers block who can give me a colour for the next chap spoiler alert it’s savanaclaw thx I’m pretty sure I didn’t do them yet. But talk to me how u guys are ?