Watermelon Woes 《Twisted Wonderland/Fem! Reader》

Chapter One: Pomefiore

     When Night Raven College started accepting female students, there was a bit of outrage. It had been Crowley’s idea, of course, ever the bold one. In his words, ‘Why not integrate young, smart, and powerful women into our school?’. Still, Crowley being the Headmage didn’t stop many from going against his decision. (Y/N) realized that most of the outrage came from an origin of sexism, but mostly it was just people fearing change. She didn’t like the idea of going to a school with ninety percent of the students being male, but the decision hadn’t been hers in the first place.

NRC chose you. You didn’t choose NRC.

Now, as she stood amongst her fellow freshmen, (Y/N) felt a bit out of place. For instance, she was right next to a wolf-man who was much too tall for comfort. She couldn’t deny the small inkling of fear she felt as she glanced at the slight scowl he had on his face. She had flinched slightly at the sight of his sharp teeth – particularly his canines – and decided to stop glancing at the 6’2 boy next to her. It was rather hard to ignore him, though, with his large tail constantly whacking against her leg.

Feeling on the verge of tears, it couldn’t get much worse.

Until (Y/N) was sorted into Pomefiore.

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     She was sitting at an elegant dinner table, her nerves bouncing around like a super-elastic bouncy ball. Despite her nervousness, (Y/N) keeps her back straight against her chair, not slouching in the slightest. She had heard several rumors about the Housewarden of Pomefiore, and she hardly wanted to catch his attention. Of course, there was a chance that the rumors she’d heard were false, but she wasn’t willing to take that chance. She’d heard that he was seriously full of himself, and (Y/N) wasn’t exactly a fan of people like that.

Vil, their Housewarden, sounded insufferable.

This guy seemed worse, though.

Apparently, he was their Vice Housewarden, but either way he was too erratic for her to keep up with. Everything about him was noticeable. His blonde hair was cut into a bob, and his green eyes reminded her of bright, clean-cut grass on a fresh plot of land. Not to mention his voice. It was loud, and so obviously French. He was constantly spouting off some French phrases that (Y/N) hardly had the energy to listen to what he was saying. The blonde was explaining table manner to a freshman – (Y/N) thinks that his name was Epel – his voice bright and loud, his hands moving a ridiculous amount.

(Y/N) was tired, and she wanted nothing more than to go to her room, roll up in a comfy blanket, and sleep until the next morning.

The universe had other ideas, apparently.

Suddenly, the Housewarden came up behind the delicate-looking freshman, and he struck him.

“No slouching!”

Vil Schoenheit was a tall and graceful-looking man, everything about him was smooth. He was beautiful, no doubt, but (Y/N) had a feeling that her Housewarden lacked a personality to match. Epel was, for a boy, extremely pretty. If Vil was treating someone that was so pretty that horribly, how would he treat her? She was average, ordinary in every way! She hardly thought that mirror had made the right choice putting her in a dorm like Pomefiore.

Apparently, her reaction had been obvious, because Vil then turns his attention to her, his violet eyes narrowing slightly. (Y/N) felt dread fill her entire being as she stared back at the tall man who was standing over Epel, gripping his head like it was expected to explode like an apple. His grip must have been relatively tight because the boy had a pained expression on his face.

Vil brought Epel’s head back to rest against the headrest of the chair roughly before letting go. He turns his attention to (Y/N) and she curses her facial expressions for being so open. Was he going to grab her head, too? Gosh, if he did, she’d certainly cry!

“Mind your manners, girl,” Vil says, his voice relatively softer than when he was addressing Epel. “Here in Pomefiore, you’re expected to act a certain way… at least your posture is exceptional.”

She hated Night Raven College.

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     “Now that this is over, head to your rooms. Getting a good night of sleep is important for your beauty!” Vil claps his hands together, and (Y/N) truly cannot believe how pompous their Housewarden is.

(Y/N) glances back at Epel, who was currently cradling his head with one hand. She purses her lips before heading off into the dorm’s kitchen area. She packs some ice into a paper towel, folding it so it would be comfortable to hold but still be effective. She returns to the commons, seeing Epel getting ready to leave to his room. (Y/N) hurries to his side, handing the icepack to him silently.

Epel looks at her, his blue eyes narrowed slightly as he looks at the pack in her hand.

“Here you go, that looks like it hurts,” (Y/N) says, her eyes finally getting a close look at the boy in front of her. Her glances before had been fleeting, but now she could take in his full appearance. Epel was shorter than most of his fellow freshmen, clocking in at only about 5’1. He was delicate-looking but judging how he was acting earlier she had to guess that he was a little rowdier than he looked. His lavender-colored hair and clear blue eyes made it obvious why Vil was on his case. Epel was a pretty boy, she realized. However, she felt quite bad for him.

The boy is quiet for a few seconds, his blue eyes focused on her before he finally takes the icepack out of her hand. “Thank you,” he says, his tone relatively quieter than before.

The two of them converse for a little while longer before Epel shrinks back against one of the many couches in Pomefiore’s common room. “Huh?” (Y/N) questions aloud, confused at the slightly scared expression on her new companion’s face.

Then she feels a gloved hand on her shoulder, a shiver rolling down her spine at the contact.

“Quoi?” a smooth yet distinctly erratic voice speaks into (Y/N)’s ear and she hardly needs to turn around to know it was her Vice Housewarden grabbing at her. “Shouldn’t you two be in bed?”

Anyways, epel supremacy 🙏