Greetings, and welcome to my domain. If you’re new here, welcome! If not, then thank you for returning to my page.
My name is CursedCola. I post semi-decent content for various fandoms, my own creations, and the occasional nonsense.
Some things that I like:
Twisted Wonderland
Baldur’s Gate 3
Palia
Rune Factory
Dragon Age
Sally Face
Akuma-Kun // GeGeGe No Kitaro
Professor Layton
TMNT (All Variants)
Moomins
Princess Jellyfish
Otome Games and Visual Novels
This list may change as I join/fall out of fandoms, but content from my previous hyper-fixations will always be here for anyone to enjoy.
When navigating my blog, use the following tags to filter the content you'd like to see:
#colawrites -> for stories and fanfiction.
#colareviews -> for game reviews and recommendations.
#coladraws -> for any art.
#colagames -> for any information regarding games and projects.
I do commission work as of 11/12/25! On my Ko-fi I offer character letters and custom fandiction via request. These are commission-only features that pertain to a variety of fandoms (Twisted Wonderland, Genshin Impact, etc 'by request')
If you would like to learn about my medical journey, why I accept paid commissions, and view my rates. Click: Here
Below you can find my guidelines for interacting with this blog! I hope you enjoy my content <3
WritingMasterList!!: Here
ReviewMasterList: Here (coming soon!)
Requisitioner's Masterlist: Here
I am also the current developer/author of "TWISTED WONDERLAND: "The Hall Of Mirrors", renamed 'Twisted Fates' as of 2026'. A text-based interactive story that spins off of Yana Tobaso's "Twisted Wonderland". Subject to be published either as a Twine VN or interactive fic on ao3. Still debating.
General Guidelines
1) Be kind your fellow viewer. I have zero tolerance for harassment or negative behavior. Do not bring discourse here. Do not bring controversial topics here either or have debates in my comments.
2) I do not take writing requests. Commissions are only issued through Ko-Fi, but I accept suggestions for game reviews and discussions.
3) That's it. Literally, just be nice.
Final Thoughts
Thank you for reading up until this point. It means a great deal to me!
!! VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ!!
Hello, everyone! Can you believe that it's been nearly 5 years since I started this blog on a whim, wanting to write for TWST and post silly things about visual-novel development? I never thought that my writing would attract thousands of wonderful people, neither that my little hobby would lead to writing well over 500K words of content. Between fics, head-cannons, a visual novel, and now a mystery romance that I plan to publish on ao3. It's kind of wild, y'know? I've made some good friends on this site, shared work with some really great mutuals, and really just found lots of love in exploring communities.
Which...now leads me into the second part of this announcement. The part that took days of convincing myself to make, because I was stubborn and prideful and a bit ashamed.
If you've followed me for years, interacted with me, or are one of my good friends -- you know that back in 2023 I was diagnosed with a chronic, autonomic nervous system disorder called POTS (Postural-Orthostatic-Tachycardiac Syndrome). As the years have progressed, it's severity has only gotten worse. I've found my entire life flipped upside down, and when paired with cardiac problems and other issues...ah, it's been a difficullt journey. I had to drop out of college, take loans to pay my bills, and have lost 6 jobs while trying to find one that I can function with. Some I lasted a bit of time at - others I barely started before an accident happened that lead to resigning. One was this past week. My sixth opportunity, I nearly caused an accident that I likely would not have recovered from.
So, I'm out of work with no clear direction for a time. Between my loans, medical costs, and other needs from the past three years - I need to raise about 30k to make a clean slate going forward. I know. It's a hefty sum, but I need to start finding a way. A dollar from ten different means makes 10, which is 10 more than what I started with.
And...I know it's kind of silly. This idea just came to me while I was brainstorming for hours, because I've been writing on here for many years, and I thought 'If I could do a commission for every person who follows me, then it may just be enough'. I feel like those commercials on cable tv that go 'if everyone gave a dollar then all the puppies can have shelter for the winter' - and I used to hate those commercials because they'd make me so sad. Except I understand why they air, because it's true. If everyone who watched them DID donate a dollar, then I bet a lot of dogs would have a warm bed.
Ah. That was slightly off track. My apologies.
SKIP HERE IF YOU DON'T CARE FOR ALL THE CONTEXT. TLDR OR WHATEVER ACRONYM IT IS.
I'm opening commissions. Not just the ones that I had before for fun, but a LOT of quality commissions for what I hope is a fair price.
I'll write pretty much anything.
Character x Character, Character x OC, Character x Reader. Crack fics. Romance fics. Adventure. Fantasy. SFW. NSFW. First Person. Second Person. WHATEVER IT IS. Original ideas or defined tropes. Specific or non-specific. A fic of mine you want another part for? A series of mine you want rehashed or continued? You just want a surprise for the hell of it?
You got it, dude.
You want quality, human written, works? Fueled with love, time, and honestly sheer gratitude that a commission was even made? You got it. My keyboard and brain are yours to command.
At some point I'll be opening for art and comics too. I'm working on a portfolio.
Below are all the options available along with their rates.
Fanfiction
Options: Character X Character; Character X OC; Character X Reader
Comes in two shapes: 500 words and 1,000 words (Note: often write beyond the word benchmark as a curtesy to the commissioner)
Price: $10 for 500 words; $15 for 1000 words
Examples of my works (not of the length, but my quality) : Here ; Here
2. Character Letters
A letter written to you (or to an oc, or another character, etc) from a chosen character, following any prompt you wish!
Comes in two shapes: 250 words and 500 words (Note: I often write beyond the benchmark as a curtesy to the commissioner)
Price: $5 for 250 words; $10 for 500 words
Examples of my letter work (quality) : Here
3. Snippet Fiction!
A head cannon set or small imagine ficlet for a character or pairing of your choice! Written as a small scenario!
One Shape: 150 words
Price: $3
-
I can write for a wide variety of fandoms! The ones I am most well-versed in are: Twisted Wonderland, Baldur's Gate 3, Palia, Dragon Age, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (All Variants), Genshin Impact, and Tears of Themis!
Others I do but not as often - Stardew Valley, Sun Haven, Persona, Fire Emblem, Pillars of Eternity, Fields of Mistria, My Time Series, content for otome games (olba, error 143, a date with death, bloomic, etc)
Is a fandom you want not listed? MESSAGE ME. Chances are I know it or can study it.
All commissions are accepted on my Ko-Fi! CLICK HERE FOR LINK!
Should you purchase anything from me, I will not consider it a job done until you are absolutely satisfied with the result. I'll be working in batches to ensure quality.
If you've enjoyed any of my works over these years - thank you. Thank you so much for reading and interacting. I hope I can keep writing and spending time with you all here. If a commission is out of your reach, please share in hopes to get the word out.
I'll be reblogging this every week or so for visibility! Hope y'all don't mind!
Feel free to check out the commissioner's masterlist, where those who've sent one in have given me permission to share their finished products with the community!
inspired by that one voice line from deuce's ceremonial robes card
i believe in adeuce's ability to make everything a competition
kinda obsessed with the fact that there are multiple voice lines across different characters' cards testifying to the fact that yuu likes to cling to and grab and poke people — but also that these voice lines are usually people telling yuu to let go or stop bothering them
yunyun's touchy by nature and definitely still a little traumatized from orientation and being surrounded by students in ceremonial robes is not a comfortable reminder
but also it's not that deep — deuce is understandably protective of the robes that symbolize his acceptance into a prestigious school, yuu wants a little comfort in a stressful situation wherever they can get it, and ace is a petty bitch <3 they find a compromise !
you reject yuu?? oh, that's okay. yuu will find a way to cope... yuu always does...
Prompt: 'How Protective Are They? Continuation! -- Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Lilia Vanrouge, and Jamil Viper
Requisitioner: Rin!
Warnings: None!
Words: 4022! (Purchase: Custom Fiction.)
A/N: Hello everyone! We've got another commission to be shared, requested over on my ko-fi! This one comes to you by the sponsor 'Rin!' -- Way back in the day, I wrote a fic detailing the TWST housewardens on a protectiveness scale in regards to their s/o. Rin asked me to bring that prompt back to surface and write for four characters of their choosing. Ah...I remember when I made that first post. I was reading the comments in the back of my calc II lecture and surely not thinking about solving proofs. Good times.
If you would like to submit a commission of your own, feel free to check me out HERE!
If you'd like to learn about my medical journey, view my rates, or learn why I'm accepting commissions. Click: HERE!
Jade Leech
9/10
Jade is often considered the more ‘reasonable’ Leech. That is the first mistake people always make. They assume that because he smiles politely and speaks with indoor manners that he is somehow the ‘safer’ twin. More approachable. Less…ah, driven to extremes.
Incorrect. Catastrophically incorrect. Need we be reminded that as youth, Jade was the more difficult son for his parents to handle.
You see, he is rather the possessive sort in a sense that by the time you realize how serious the situation has become, it’s already too late.
One day you realize he has memorized your class schedule. The next? He is silently appearing beside you before you even noticed someone else was there to be a bother. It is genuinely unsettling how quickly he materializes whenever you are uncomfortable. Sometimes before you realize the feeling is about to settle in.
You carry a shadow that is towering, one that swamps your own in broad daylight.
Physically, Jade is not clingy in the traditional sense. He is not hanging off your shoulder or demanding affection in public. In fact, he is oddly respectful of your space…which somehow makes him more overbearing? He simply has eyes in the walls. You grow accustomed to the sense of being watched over with time, as he is worse than a helicopter mom at disney world.
A hand on the small of your back while walking through crowds. Casually steering you away from danger like you are a shopping cart with a broken wheel. If someone becomes too loud or aggressive near you, Jade inserts himself into the situation before you can speak.
And seven help the sad sack who touches you without permission.
Jade does not explode like Floyd or bark threats like Leona. No. He politely dismantles people with a shark-took grin. One warning is spoken with that overly pleasant customer service voice and suddenly the entire room feels humid.
“Oh dear. I’m afraid you seem to have mistaken my partner for someone interested in your attention. How embarrassing for you.”
People at Mostro Lounge learn very quickly that your name is not one to use carelessly in conversation, unless they want Jade’s attention - and trust me, that is not a fun prize. Gossip in his domain? Unless he thinks it is relatively harmless and might yield a cute reaction from you…nuh-uh-uh.
Jade understands social warfare better than nearly anyone at NRC. He knows secrets. Everybody has secrets. Azul collects contracts but Jade collects information, and if someone threatens your reputation? Congratulations. They have just volunteered for psychological warfare against a man who enjoys sampling poisonous mushrooms in his free time. Very Mao-Mao from ‘Apothecary Diaries’ core.
If someone DOES spread rumors about you? They tend to disappear before they gain traction. It is almost magical. One moment there is gossip circulating around NRC and the next the students involved are apologizing to you with sweat dripping down their backs while Jade stands nearby smiling like a proud parent at a piano recital.
You never find out what he did to make it happen. Snitches get stitches, you can ask whomever you like. No one is about to get on a Leech’s bad side. Especially anyone from the Coral Sea…they like having their gills intact, thank you very much.
In fact…your social circle seems to thin out. No one you’d miss, certainly. Anyone worth keeping around is already known by you before Jade’s fancy was stuck, after all. He just has a ‘quality’ that keeps bottom feeders away.
Jade is significantly more possessive than he pretends to be. He acts amused when people flirt with you. Smiles. Tilt his head. You’d think him entirely unbothered, if not for the slight twitch of his lower eyelid.
Meanwhile he’s mentally ranking the best burial locations on his usual mountain trails. He won’t do it. Just…let him tinker. He can only tolerate so much audacity from these people after all.
Unlike Floyd’s explosive jealousy, Jade’s comes in the form of increased politeness. That’s how you know he is upset. The sweeter he sounds, the worse the situation is. If someone is heavily flirting with you, Jade becomes attached to your side for the rest of the day. He won’t intrude unless you explicitly ask – discounting the times you’re unaware of his presence – but he does expect you to shrug the plebs off. Make an effort or his ire might have you backed up against a wall later that night.
Make no comment when he casually mentions your relationship status every three sentences either. Subtly, as he watches the offender making a move on you crumple like the trash they are and evaporate from his sight.
Yet…if it continues beyond flirtations? If someone dares to make a vulgar comment at you?
His terrariums gain new fertilizer.
No, because seriously. There is no situation where he’d let any sort of objectification or crude remark slide. Not interesting. Not funny. The only tolerable admiration is watching bottomfeeders deflate as they realize he’s already got the best pickings of the land. He can and will cut their tongues out.
“My, what a vulgar thing to say. I do hope for your sake that you simply misspoke…though judging by your expression, I suspect not. How unfortunate. Shall we continue this conversation somewhere private? People do become rather forgetful when they are trying to impress someone who is already spoken for, don’t they? ”
Jamil Viper
7/10
Jamil does not WANT to be protective.
That is important to understand first and foremost.
He already has enough responsibilities. Enough people depending on him. Enough stress. The last thing he needs is another person to worry over and yet somehow…there you are. Sitting comfortably in the center of his thoughts like you pay rent there. Mm.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
He’s a bit of his own worst nightmare. Jamil finds a partner who is competent insanely attractive. Nothing gets him going like a show of power…but his brain doesn’t have an ‘off’ switch. So he naturally tries to take charge in most situations and has a terrible time letting his guard down.
Because now he has to think about things like whether you ate today. Whether you got enough sleep. Whether Ace and Grim dragged you into another near death experience. He catches himself scanning crowds for your face automatically and gets irritated every single time he realizes he is doing it.
Just his luck that he’s fallen for the person with the self-preservation skills of a mosquito…ha..haha..hahaha.
Physically, Jamil is surprisingly attentive. Not overbearing, but hyperaware. He notices exhaustion before you say anything. Notices when your social battery dies. Notices when you are forcing yourself to smile through discomfort. He’s used to reading people.
He is the type to silently pull you away from overwhelming situations under the guise of something casual.
“Come help me with this for a second.”
Suddenly you are outside getting fresh air while he pretends to sweep the outer courtyard. .
Jamil is not loud about protecting you because loud attention is dangerous in his mind. He prefers subtle control over situations. Strategic positioning. Standing between you and someone sketchy without making a scene. Steering conversations away from topics that upset you. Making sure you get back to Ramshackle safely even if he acts like it is an inconvenience.
And yes. He absolutely keeps track of where you are. Give him your phone so he can add you to Life360. Just do it.
Not in a creepy way. In a “if something happens to you I will have a stress-induced migraine” way. He gets pissed when Grim takes your phone though. The headmaster seriously has you both sharing one? Just…look, take his old one. Don’t tell Kalim either. He’ll 100%% get you the newest model with an unlimited data plan, but Jamil isn’t about to have someone else doing what he can do for you just fine. Especially Kalim.
He especially hates when you wander around NRC late at night alone. This school has entirely too many weirdos, overblot incidents, and students with magical superiority complexes. The moment he finds out you went somewhere dangerous by yourself he is giving you ‘That Look’.
You know the one.
Socially, Jamil is vicious in the pettiest ways possible.
He does not have the authority of someone like Riddle nor the intimidation factor of Leona, so instead he weaponizes competence. If someone is rude to you publicly? Congratulations. Jamil is about to make them look stupid in front of everyone.
Not directly, of course. That would be messy.
But suddenly they are fumbling their words during class presentations because Jamil “helpfully” pointed out inconsistencies in their work. Suddenly they are losing arguments they thought they could win. Suddenly every flaw they have becomes painfully obvious because Jamil knows exactly how to press people until they crack.
He has years of experience surviving court politics. Some random teenager is light work.
The thing is, Jamil gets especially protective over your image because he understands what it feels like to have people make assumptions about you. So rumors? Harassment? People trying to paint you negatively? He…is guilty of doing that to others.
So he is able to detect the early signs of someone scheming. No one’s ripping at your confidence. He’ll end them.
Not only because he cares about you, but because he genuinely cannot stand unfairness directed toward someone he loves. You become one of the very few people he allows himself to prioritize emotionally and he takes that seriously.
Now jealousy?
…Yeah. Yeah Jamil has issues.
Not outwardly at first. He tries SO hard to play it cool. He tells himself he is being irrational. That you can handle yourself. That he trusts you.
Then he sees someone flirting with you too comfortably and suddenly his eye is twitching.
Jamil’s jealousy manifests through hovering and passive aggression. He starts inserting himself into conversations uninvited. Interrupting. Pulling you away under flimsy excuses. Offering to do things for you before someone else can. Oh, he is burning. That ego he tries to keep under a tarp is coming out at full force.
And the sass?
Unmatched.
“Oh? You suddenly developed interest in my partner after ignoring them for months? What a fascinating coincidence…sorry, what’s your name again?”
The worst part is that Jamil absolutely notices when people are attracted to you before they even realize it themselves. One lingering glance and he is already annoyed.
He also DESPISES overly touchy people around you. No one gets a pass. Kalim really pisses him off, but he has to bite it down. At least there’s the comfort of knowing it’s strictly platonic but still.
Your little first-year group? He has so much beef with Ace it isn’t funny. That ******* knows exactly what he’s doing whenever he slings an arm over your shoulder. Floyd? Every basketball practice is one where Jamil is tempted to spike the ball at the back of his head. He tolerates Grim, knowing that the menace is going to be there until the day you both die.
And if someone thinks to pass a vulgar comment? A cat-call? Mm. Patience isn’t always a virtue.
Jamil’s entire expression flattens like someone turned his emotions off manually. He gets cold in a way that makes people instinctively backpedal. Unlike some of the others, he is less likely to threaten violence and more likely to verbally flay someone alive with frightening precision.
He knows exactly what insecurities to target too. Doesn’t matter who it is. He can pick them apart in a few short moments.
“You know, confidence is attractive in moderation. Unfortunately for you, this is just embarrassing.”
Rook Hunt
8.5/10
Dating Rook is like accidentally befriending a very affectionate cryptid.
One day you are minding your business and the next you hear rustling in the trees followed by an enthusiastic Frenchman praising the way sunlight reflects off your hair. There is no such thing as privacy anymore. Not because Rook wishes to control you, but because he genuinely enjoys your existence so much that he cannot help orbiting around you constantly.
He is EVERYWHERE.
The scary thing? Half the time you do not even notice him until he speaks.
“Ah! Trickster! The way you leap away in surprise reminds me of a startled doe. Magnifique!”
Cardiac arrest. Immediate cardiac arrest. He ceases for the rest of the day but then is right back at it the next.
At first his protectiveness does not even register because Rook treats everything with fascination. He watches everyone. Compliments everyone. Appears out of nowhere for everyone. So naturally, you assume his attention toward you is just part of his personality.
Then you realize he has been tailing you across campus for three hours because you mentioned feeling unsafe walking alone after dark.
Romantic.
Terrifying, but romantic.
This man has the instincts of a hunting dog and the perception of a military drone.
You are never unsafe around him.
Ever.
Physically, Rook is actually extremely protective. Far more than people expect. Underneath all the theatrics and poetry is someone with terrifying awareness of his surroundings. Rook notices danger instantly. The shift in someone’s body language. A suspicious movement in the crowd. The subtle signs someone intends harm.
A student reaching for their pen? He sees it. Someone following you through the halls? Already aware. Suspicious noises outside Ramshackle at night? He is perched somewhere nearby like a Victorian gargoyle with a bow in hand. Sorry Malleus. This one is not fit for your club to study…unless?
Ahem. You genuinely cannot sneak up on this man.
And because of that? Nobody sneaks up on you either.
The issue is that Rook treats protecting you like an act of devotion. He enjoys it. Not in a creepy controlling way but in a “the hunter safeguards what he treasures most” way.
And unlike some of the others, Rook is willing to get physical FAST if he thinks you are genuinely threatened. People forget that beneath the dramatic monologues and layers of concealer is a man who hunts for fun.
For FUN.
One second someone is getting too aggressive with you. The next Rook is suddenly behind them smiling with their wrist pinned up against their back.
“Ah ah~ I would reconsider your actions, mon trésor’s comfort is far more important to me than your pride.”
The thing about Rook is that he rarely ‘sounds threatening. Which somehow makes him infinitely worse. He says horrifying things with the same tone someone would use to compliment flowers.
And LORD help the poor soul that genuinely hurts you somehow.
Rook becomes the physical manifestation of “I know where you live.”
His little ‘Oo la la~’ pitch that carries in the wind like fallen leaves suddenly turns into Krampus incarnate. Deep, guttural, and spoken directly into the perpetrator’s ear with a promise for something much worse than a beating with a straw broom and some coal in their stocking.
“Aha. No. We are not looking at mon coheur in such a manner. You may apologize now, or I will be forced to consider alternative persuasion. Un, deux, toi –”
Socially, Rook is extreamly supportive rather than controlling. He absolutely hypes you up constantly. Shamelessly….it’s very much the ‘Wear whatever you want, my darling. I know how to fight’ dynamic amped to maximum overdrive.
He will praise you in front of literally anyone with zero shame. Your intelligence, your beauty, your habits, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh—nothing is safe from his admiration. At first people think it is exaggeration because surely no one can speak this poetically about their partner twenty-four hours a day.
No. He means every word.
The issue is that this also means he becomes deeply offended when others speak poorly of you. Rook values beauty in all forms and to insult someone he treasures? Mon dieu. The audacity.
Rook does not argue normally. He psychoanalyzes people like he is peeling an orange. Someone makes fun of you once and suddenly Rook is smiling thoughtfully while pointing out all the hidden insecurities fueling their behavior.
In front of everyone.
“Oh? Such cruelty toward someone so radiant…could it be envy, perhaps? How unfortunate. To possess eyes capable of witnessing beauty and yet remain unable to appreciate it.”
Murder. Actual murder.
And because Rook is naturally charismatic, people listen to him. He can spin social situations terrifyingly fast. One minute someone is mocking you and the next they are being publicly pitied by half the room while Rook comforts you dramatically like the star actor of a tragedy play.
But jealousy? Hah! Listen.
Rook is a strange creature because he simultaneously understands why people are attracted to you while also wanting to put them in the ground for acting on it.
He appreciates beauty. Of course others admire you! How could they not? To him your existence is practically artwork.
So when others pursue you, he does not see them as something to dismiss. No. No. He will acknowledge their challenge…and you will find no one more competitive. He wants to win.
Which means the flirting somehow becomes worse. He is a peacock spreading its feathers while aiming a shotgun with its beak.
You think one person complimenting you is bad? Congratulations. Rook is now reciting poetry while kissing your hand in front of them with enough intensity to make bystanders uncomfortable.
He becomes unbelievably touchy too. Draping himself over your shoulders. Holding your waist. Tilting your chin toward him while maintaining eye contact with whoever dared flirt with you. If they want you, then they’ll have to offer you better than what he can provide. Which is impossible, because Rook spares no effort in ensuring you have everything you could ever want.
And if someone says something vulgar about you?
…they have a ten second head start.
Rook does not mind admiration, he encourages all beauty to be appreciated, but crude lust disgusts him. In his eyes it reduces something precious into something cheap and tawdry. He takes it personally, like someone smeared mud over a painting.
He merely teases the brim of his hat, ducks his chin low, and fixes the offender with sharp eyes and the terrifying realization that this man could absolutely hit a bullseye through their skull from fifty yards away.
“You speak of them so carelessly…how terribly sad. To witness something so precious and reduce it to vulgarity. I highly suggest you choose your next words with greater care, monsieur. ”
Lilia Vanrouge
6.5/10
At first glance, Lilia does not seem protective at all.
If anything, he encourages chaos.
Go explore dangerous places! Fight strong opponents! Experience life! Make reckless memories! Half the time it feels like he is actively encouraging your bad decisions while Sebek is somewhere nearby having a stress-induced aneurysm over it.
Lilia is not controlling. Not even remotely. Rather than stop you from pursuing danger, he’s walking into it at your side.
He does not hover over your shoulder monitoring who you speak to or where you go. He will not cage you up “for your safety” because frankly? That sounds dreadfully boring to him. Lilia fell in love with YOU. Your spirit. Your freedom. Your ability to live fully despite fear.
Why would he take that away?
No, if you are with Lilia then you are expected to spread your wings and enjoy life to its fullest. He wants stories. Excitement. Late night walks, spontaneous adventures, troublemaking, dancing on rooftops because “the moon looks lovely tonight.”
He treats love like something alive. Something meant to grow unrestrained instead of being locked away. He’s waited seven-hundred years for this chance and will not waste a second of it.
Which honestly makes people underestimate him terribly.
Because while Lilia is not overprotective in everyday situations…
He IS an elder fae. Even those of lower status are raised not to take matters of the heart lightly. Your soul is an extension of his own.
The man could probably locate you in a foreign country with nothing but a vague description and a prayer. You will be halfway across campus thinking you're alone only to hear his voice from a tree branch.
"My, my. Fancy seeing you here."
He truly is an extension of your person now. While not tethered for centuries, he is quite fond of being a phantom limb of yours.
Which becomes obvious the moment someone truly threatens you. He does not mince his words or offer mercy to those who threaten his family. Kingscholar was very fortunate to be spared after targeting Malleus during the spelldrive tournament during your first year in wonderland. Remember how brutal Lilia’s words struck.
There is a massive difference between Lilia finding your recklessness amusing and someone else harming you intentionally. One earns laughter. The other earns silence.
And silence from Lilia Vanrouge is one of the most terrifying things a person can experience.
Because Lilia does not posture.
He does not threaten.
He does not growl warnings or puff out his chest.
He simply decides that someone is dangerous.
Then acts accordingly.
People often forget that beneath the jokes, the gaming addiction, and the culinary war crimes is a former general. A man who spent hundreds of years protecting a royal family through actual conflict. Lilia has survived war. Buried friends. He knows exactly how far he is willing to go for the people he loves.
Which is as far as his body can take him. Lilia would die for you without hesitation.
Not in the romanticized “I’d take a bullet for you” way either. In the very literal, non-negotiable sense that he has already accepted the possibility long ago. Loyalty is woven into Lilia so deeply that protecting his loved ones is practically instinctual.
Which is why anyone who thinks otherwise, dares to even tinker with the thought of harming you, is scheduling an audience with General Vanrouge.
Socially, Lilia is surprisingly relaxed. He has lived too long to care about petty gossip (although he does enjoy hearing it). Rumors roll off him like water because honestly? Most students at NRC are children to him mentally. Why would he value their opinions over yours?
That being said, he DOES care if the rumors genuinely hurt you.
Not because your reputation reflects on him, but because he cannot stand seeing someone he loves feel isolated or targeted. Lilia knows what loneliness feels like better than most people ever will. He still will not intervene though, not beyond offering a distraction to make you smile.
Honestly? He finds caring about that sort of thing silly. With time you’ll understand and think the same, of that he’s certain.
If someone dislikes you, they dislike you.
If someone talks badly about you, then they are showing their own character.
Most of the time he laughs it off. "Mhmm. Are they finished? Goodness, they seem to think about you more than I do."
Now jealousy?
Pshh. Manageable. A dime in a dozen.
Lilia feels secure in your relationship. He does not panic over every passing flirtation because he trusts you and frankly finds some situations funny. Watching younger students awkwardly attempt to woo you while he sits nearby smiling into his tea is genuinely entertaining to him.
He especially enjoys making them nervous. “Oh? Trying to court my darling? My my, how brave~”
Although he is not against blipping in if harmless flirtations progress to crude vulgarity or a breach of boundaries. Which is unfortunately common with youth that possess egos with more concentrated power than the sun. The moment someone dares to say something genuinely degrading about your person, he eases in with the air of someone far superior and reminds the offender to view a specific chapter in their history textbook. He normally isn’t fond of his pictures in those books, but surely they have their uses.
“Tsk, what an ugly thing to say. Careful now…there are far crueler creatures in this world than me, child. You ought to learn some manners before you meet one.”
Prompt: 'Misunderstandings' Continuation! What if they said or did something to hurt your feelings? -- Silver Vanrouge Edition
Requisitioner: Silvercrumbs!
Warnings: None!
Words: 1666! (Purchase: Custom Fiction.)
A/N: Hello everyone! We've got another commission to be shared, requested over on my ko-fi! This one comes to you by the sponsor 'SilverCrumbs!' -- Silvercrumbs put in a request that I write a variant of one of my pre-existing posts for Silver Vanrouge. This details the first lovers quarrel, following a miscommunication and a few bumps in the road. It was fun revisiting one of my first ever works on this blog and seeing how far my understanding of the characters has grown :)
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Silver rushed through the streets of Foothill town at a steady yet brisk pace. He wove through crowds with the clock ticking against his schedule. Another three minutes and he would be late to your weekly date-night, and he would not allow himself to spurn you with his tardiness. His carelessness. He would make it on time with blisters in his boots and let them sting for the evening as a way to stay awake.
Not that he would let himself drift without penance later.
He had gone to your date straight from training, blade work still burning in his arms, his thoughts still half on the drills, half on the message he had reread three times before leaving. He had told himself he would be present for you. Quietly, fully, the way he wanted to be.
And he was trying.
That was the frustrating part. He made the effort to straighten his posture, to smooth the crease between his brows, to push the weariness from his expression so he could greet you with something gentle. Something easy. Something worthy of you.
But you saw through him almost immediately. Standing outside the agreed meeting point, worry in your eyes that should not be there. Not after he’d promised an evening of peace and a meal at that new pasta restaurant you’d been so excited to visit.
“You look exhausted,” you said, concern soft in your voice. “Silver, did you even stop to change?”
He should have answered honestly. Surely you could see the grass stains on his cuffs.
He knew it the moment your eyes lingered on him, searching his face with that familiar care that always made his chest feel strangely full. Instead, old habits reached him first.
“It is nothing,” he said, perhaps too quickly. “You do not need to worry about it. Shall we go ahead?”
The words were meant to be reassuring, with his little practiced half-smile.
In his mind, they were. If he could handle it alone, then he would not be placing another burden at your feet. He could bear the strain of training. He could bear his duties. He could bear the quiet pressure of always feeling as though he needed to return kindness with something equally heavy, equally measurable, as though affection itself had to be repaid.
But your expression crumpled.
At first there was only a flicker of surprise, then something more delicate than hurt.
Something that looked almost like you were pulling away without moving an inch. Silver felt it before he understood his own words, the air between you shifting into something colder, thinner.
“That’s not what I meant,” you said, voice unsteady. “I am asking because I care about you. You keep acting like I am just… someone you have to manage. Is that what this is?
Silver steadied his breathing. One, two, three. Three, two, one.
Manage.
The word lodged somewhere sharp inside him between the seventh and eighth rib.
That is not what he wanted you to think. Not at all
Never that. And yet when he searched through his own actions, he could not deny how often he made you feel as though your concern belonged in the same category as his responsibilities. A thing to acknowledge, to account for, to settle later once everything else had been handled.
“I am not trying to do that. Please, please believe me,” he said, but even to his own ears the answer sounded too quiet, too late.
You sighed, and the sound did more damage than anger might have.
“Then why won’t you let me in? You can tell me when you are tired. You can tell me when something is wrong. You do not have to keep saying it is fine just because you think you should be strong all the time. If today was too much, then I would have understood.”
Silver looked down at his boots.
Because that was precisely it, wasn’t it?
Strength has always been tied to silence. To endurance. To be useful without complaint. To repay what had been given to him — his father’s care, Malleus’s trust, the quiet faith of the people who allowed him to remain by their side. The life he was never supposed to live. He grew so used to measuring himself by what he could return that he started to believe love worked the same way.
If he was struggling, he should endure it without troubling you.
If you were kind, he should be even kinder in return.
If you cared, he should not ask for more than you offered. Never be selfish.
The problem is that love was not meant to feel like a weighted scale.
“I did not mean to upset you,” he spoke tenderly, and there was no hiding the strain in his voice. “I only… did not wish to place my burdens on you.”
You folded your arms, though your eyes were still warm in that way that made this conversation so much worse. Your reservations at that restaurant are about to be nulled.
“Being with me is not a burden, Silver.”
The words struck with quiet force. You are not a burden. His problems are meant to be shared. This is a relationship. If he wasn’t ready to exchange the good and the bad, then he never should have taken your hand.
Because he had not said that aloud, yet the train of thought rode on schedule from his mind to your own.
Somewhere beneath his manners and restraint and careful refusals of your aid, that was exactly what he had been acting as though he believed. That his exhaustion was his alone to hide. That your worry was something he should deflect. That if he could just remain composed, remain useful, remain gentle, then he would not disappoint you.
Instead, he accomplished the opposite.
He took the tenderness in your voice and answered it like a duty. Took your hand as a knight would their liege, rather than a husband might dote on their beloved.
Silver felt his throat tighten. He was no good at this.
His first instinct was still to explain, to soothe, to smooth the moment over as he always did. But he saw, for the first time perhaps, how that habit could wound just as easily as any harsh word. Not because he was cruel. Because he was distant in the very places he meant to be closest.
And he hated that he had made you feel unwelcome inside his own exhaustion.
“I am sorry,” he said finally, the apology quiet but no less sincere for it. “You were trying to care for me, and I answered you as though your concern was unnecessary. That was unfair to you.”
He swallowed once, then continued, slower this time, as if each word had to be chosen with care.
“I think… I have been treating this as though I must always earn my place beside you. As though every moment with you must be repaid properly, or else I am taking too much. But you are not asking me to repay you.”
His gaze lifted to meet yours. “You are only asking me to stay.”
Silver had never been good at wanting things for himself.
It always felt safer to be needed than to be loved. Safer to be useful than vulnerable. Safer to give than to receive. But you were looking at him now as though all you wanted was honesty, and somehow that felt far more difficult than any sword drill he ever endured.
“I do want you to stay,” he stressed, pleading. “Not because I need you to manage. Not because I am repaying anything. Because I… because I enjoy being with you. Because when I am with you, I do not wish to hide.”
A pause.
Then, because he knew words meant little without the courage to follow them, he added, “I should have told you I was tired. I should have let you know that I was overwhelmed instead of pretending otherwise. I understand now that I made you feel shut out.”
The apology hung between you both, unguarded.
Silver did not rush to fill the silence.
He learned, over time, that some things needed space to breathe. Still, the quiet made him aware of every small thing – the way his hands had fallen open at his sides, the way your breathing had slowed, the way your face had not turned away from him despite the hurt. This is not a problem born of just one incident. No, this surely has been brewing since the moment you both looked at each other with yearning hearts.
“I cannot promise I will be perfect at this immediately,” he admitted. “But I would like to try. I would like to learn how to stop turning my own heart into a duty.”
His mouth curved faintly, though there was sadness in it too. What he was promising would be an uphill battle, pushing a boulder with one arm behind his back.
“And if I begin to do it again, I hope you will tell me. Even if it is uncomfortable. Especially if it is uncomfortable.”
The end of that sentence was quiet enough to be mistaken for a plea.
Silver did not reach for you right away.
He would not make that choice for you. Not after making you feel as though your worry had no place beside him. Instead, he stood there with all the patience he could gather, hands still, expression open, waiting to see whether you would step closer or hold your ground a moment longer.
In the hush that followed, he could only hope you heard what he had finally managed to say…. that he wanted to stop being someone you had to reach for through silence, and start being someone who met you halfway.
…
And whether you let him take your hand, or make him wait a little longer, Silver would understand.
Prompt: Let's Groove Tonight, share the spice of life <3
Characters: All NRC
Masterlist: (1) (2)
A/N: Ripped from my drafts and finally finished. Made because I exchanged playlists with a friend like...four months ago, and thought to make a playlist for TWST.
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“If the sky that we look upon // Should tumble and fall // or the mountains should crumble into the sea // I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no, I won’t shed a tear // Just as long as you stand by me” - Stand By Me, Ben ‘E’ King
To Riddle, loving you is terrifying in the way freedom often is. All his life, every path was drawn out for him in neat red lines — every success predetermined, every failure unacceptable. But you stand beside him without trying to steer him. You do not demand perfection from him, nor obedience, nor the polished version of himself he was taught to present. You simply believe he can choose for himself. And somehow, that faith becomes stronger than all the fear instilled in him since childhood.
“If it means you’ll still stand beside me… then I think I can bear anything.”
“I get wet at the thought of you // Being a responsible guy // Treating me like you’re supposed to do // Tears run down my thighs” - Tears, Sabrina Carpenter
Everyone assumes Trey is safe. Dependable. The calm one with gentle hands and patient smiles, the boy who cleans up everyone else’s messes before they even notice they’ve made one. And he lets them believe it, because it’s easier that way. But you know better. You notice the amusement hidden behind his half-lidded gaze, the way he enjoys watching people squirm just a little under his attention. Trey likes being reliable because it gives him control — it means people trust him enough to let their guard down. Especially you.
Trey knows how much power there is in being the one person you never doublt.
“What? You’re looking at me like that again… careful, sweetheart. You make it awfully tempting to bend the rules.”
“All the pills that you take // Violet, blue, green, red - to keep me at arms length don’t work //You try to push me out, but I just find my way back in // Violet, blue, green, red - to keep me out. I win.” - Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey
Cater has spent so long making himself easy to consume. Smiles, selfies, jokes, perfectly curated pieces of himself handed out to everyone around him — enough to keep people entertained, but never enough to let them truly touch him. And then you come along and ruin the balance entirely. You notice the cracks beneath the filters, the moments where his grin strains at the edges, the loneliness he buries under endless distractions. He keeps trying to redirect you back to the surface, laughing things off whenever you get too close, pretending vulnerability is just another joke. But every time you slip past his defenses anyway, there’s a part of him that feels relieved.
Cater pushes because he’s terrified of being known too well and abandoned for it after, yet he can’t stop leaving the door unlocked for you. Maybe that’s why he self-sabotages so often — because if you leave after seeing the real him, at least he can say he expected it. But if you stay? Then maybe, for once, someone chose him and not the version he performs for everyone else.
“You know you’d have an easier time if you just gave up on me already… so why do you keep coming back?”
“How can we go back to be being friends, when we just shared a bed.” - back to friends,sombr
Ace tells himself it just sort of happened. That somewhere between all the bickering, the late-night walks back to Ramshackle, the dumb arguments and easy laughter, things got complicated. But lying awake beside you, close enough to feel the warmth of your body beneath the blankets, he realizes that isn’t true at all. It was never just friendship for him. Maybe he knew it from the first day he decided to get under your skin for no reason other than wanting your attention fixed on him. Maybe that’s why he kept coming back, even when he could’ve walked away a hundred times over. Ace doesn’t really understand when wanting to make you laugh turned into needing to be the person you looked for first, or when teasing you started feeling dangerously close to flirting.
All he knows is that sharing a bed with you — hearing your breathing in the dark, watching you shift sleepily closer without thinking — makes pretending impossible now. Because friends aren’t supposed to want like this. They aren’t supposed to feel their chest ache at the thought of going back to “normal.” And the worst part is that Ace doesn’t think there is a normal to return to. He’s always wanted you. He just finally ran out of ways to joke around it.
“…You ever think maybe I was doomed the second I met you?”
“I’d give you the sun if you asked me. You could have all of the time. You could have the stars and the trees. When dividin’ up the universe. You could have mine.” - J’s Lullaby, Delaney Bailey
Loving you feels almost holy to Deuce. Before you, he spent so much of his life convinced he was inherently wrong somehow — too rough around the edges, too angry, too reckless to ever truly become the kind of person he wanted to be. Everyone told him changing was difficult, that redemption had to be earned piece by piece, but you looked at him like he was already worth believing in. And that changes everything. Because once Deuce lets someone into his heart, he loves with his entire body and soul. There is nothing careful about it. He would give and give until there was nothing left of him if it meant keeping you safe, happy, smiling beside him.
The frightening thing is how easy it feels. One soft glance from you and suddenly every impossible task becomes manageable, every burden worth carrying. He’d hand you the stars without hesitation if you asked, not because he thinks you’d demand it, but because loving you makes him want to offer the universe itself. Somewhere along the way, you became proof that he could be good — not because you fixed him, but because you saw goodness in him before he could see it himself. And now Deuce clings to that faith with everything he has, terrified and grateful all at once, like losing you would mean losing the person he’s trying so hard to become.
“I don’t care how hard it is… if it’s for you, I’ll do it. I swear I will.”
“Pulling your face close, wanting the inmost. // Show me I’m not afraid of you now, I’m not afraid of you now. // Villain and violent. Infant and innocent. // Baby, both arms cradle you now. Both arms cradle you now.” - forwards beckon rebound, adrianne lenker
Leona cannot remember the last time someone touched him gently without wanting something in return. Most people approach him with caution or ambition — fearful of his temper, respectful of his status, eager to gain from his favor. But you touch him like none of those things matter. Your fingers brush over the scar beneath his eye without hesitation, comb lazily through his hair while he rests beside you, trace the sharp lines of his face like you’re memorizing something precious instead of dangerous. And it undoes him more thoroughly than he’ll ever admit aloud. Because beneath all his teeth and claws, beneath the bitterness and exhaustion and violence simmering under his skin, there is a part of him still aching from years of being treated like something second-best. Something too much. Too difficult to hold carefully.
Yet you cradle every fractured piece of him with impossible tenderness, and suddenly Leona finds himself wanting — selfishly, desperately — to keep it. To keep you. He isn’t afraid of you hurting him physically; he knows he could protect himself from almost anyone. What terrifies him is how easily you’ve slipped past every defense he had, how devastating it would be if you decided one day to take your warmth back. So he holds you close in quiet moments, heavy arms wrapped around you possessively, silently promising something you haven’t fully realized yet: no matter how vicious the world becomes, you are safe with him. Always.
“C’mere… quit lookin’ at me like that unless you plan on stayin’. I don’t think I could let you go now even if I tried.”
Bonus because I was torn :p ::
“A little respect for women can get you very very far // Remembering how to use your phone gets me // Oh so, Oh so, Oh so hot!” Tears, Sabrina Carpenter
No one ever disrespects you in his presence. Fiercely protective. One fucking word, one wrong look, and he isn’t fighting but he damn well will put people in their place with a mere glance.
“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.” — Somethin' Stupid, Frank and Nancy Sinatra
Ruggie has always survived by knowing exactly where the line is. Don’t get attached. Don’t depend on people more than necessary. Don’t want things you can’t afford to lose. It’s practical, really — the kind of mindset you develop when life has spent years proving that stability is fragile and love doesn’t put food on the table. So whatever this thing between you was supposed to be, it definitely wasn’t meant to become serious. Just easy company. A little flirting. Someone warm to sit beside after a long day. But somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling temporary. And that’s the problem. Because now every laugh you give him feels dangerous, every soft touch settling somewhere deep in his chest where he can’t pry it back out again.
Ruggie hates how badly he wants things from you he has no right asking for — your time, your affection, a future he can barely provide for himself let alone someone else. He knows what he has to offer isn’t glamorous. It’s scraps and side jobs and exhaustion and a life built on barely scraping by. Yet none of that stops him from loving you with a fierceness that catches him off guard every time it slips loose. And maybe that’s why he jokes so much, why he grins and laughs things off before they get too serious — because if he says it plainly, if he admits how deeply he’s fallen, then suddenly there’s something precious enough to lose.
“Shaha… forget I said all that, okay? …Unless you were gonna say it back.”
“A stranger light comes on slowly. // A stranger’s heart without a home. // You put your hands into your head. // And then its smiles cover your heart” - Fade into you, Mazzy Star
For Jack, love is not casual. It never could be. Beastfolk understand instinctively what it means to belong to someone — not in ownership, but in trust, in loyalty, in the quiet certainty that no matter how harsh the world becomes, your pack will return to you at the end of the day. Jack always understood that in theory. He understood duty, protection, commitment. But you make him understand it emotionally for the first time. Slowly, almost without realizing it, you become home to him.
The feeling sneaks up on him in small moments: the way his body relaxes the instant he hears your voice, the instinctive urge to stand between you and anything threatening, the overwhelming calm he feels when you run your fingers through his hair and trace over the scarred, guarded parts of him without fear. There’s something unbearably tender in the way you handle him, like you see the strength in him without being intimidated by it. And in return, Jack holds your heart with almost frightening care. Because wolves do not love halfway. Once someone is considered theirs, they are protected with teeth and soul alike.
“…You don’t have to hold back around me. I’ve got you. I always will.”
“When I saw you I knew you were mine. If you leave, I’ll kill you. But, oh dear, I fear, you’ll kill me first.” - May You Never Forget Me, Temachii
Azul knew loving you would ruin him almost immediately. It was there the moment he first looked at you — that sharp, sinking certainty that you would become dangerous to him in ways no contract or deal could ever protect against. Attraction has never frightened Azul before. Desire is manageable. Predictable. Something he can leverage, contain, twist neatly into his favor. But you slip beneath his defenses too quickly, bypassing every carefully constructed wall he spent years building around himself. And the worst part is that he sees it happening in real time.
He notices how possessive he becomes over your attention, how his smile tightens whenever someone else stands too close to you, how every interaction starts feeling like starvation followed by indulgence. It’s humiliating. Terrifying. Because Azul knows exactly what it means to hand another person the power to destroy you. He spent his childhood learning what cruelty looks like when people discover your weak points. Yet despite all his intelligence, all his caution, he cannot stop himself from reaching for you anyway.
You make him greedy. Not for wealth or influence, but for softer things he has no idea how to ask for properly. Your time. Your affection. Your reassurance. He wants every piece of you tucked safely into his grasp where nobody else can touch it. And beneath that obsession lies something even uglier: fear. Fear that one day you’ll realize how desperate he truly is beneath the polished confidence and silver tongue. Fear that you’ll pull away after he’s already become too dependent on your warmth to survive losing it cleanly. But even knowing that, Azul cannot bring himself to loosen his grip. Because if loving you is fatal, then perhaps he’s already accepted the sentence.
"Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? If you asked for my heart, I’d hand it over willingly...and resent you for how easily you could crush it afterward.”
"Every gesture // Every move that she makes // Makes me feel like never before // Why do I have // This growing need to be beside her" - Strangers Like Me, Phil Collins
Jade has always believed people become predictable eventually. Given enough time, every person reveals their habits, their weaknesses, the exact shape of their desires. It’s one of the reasons he enjoys observing others so much — the slow unraveling fascinates him. But you are different in a way he cannot quite dissect, and that alone is enough to capture his full attention. Every small gesture you make seems to uncover something new inside him, something unfamiliar and strangely exhilarating.
Jade notices all of it. And instead of the usual satisfaction that comes with understanding someone completely, he finds himself wanting more. More conversations. More walks beside you. More mundane little moments strung together until they become something precious. It bewilders him, this growing need to remain close to you even when nothing particularly exciting is happening. Especially then, perhaps. Because for the first time, Jade discovers that intimacy is not merely intrigue or amusement; it is the startling realization that even silence can feel endlessly engaging when shared with the right person.
“How curious… no matter how much time I spend with you, I still find myself wanting more.”
“Two Lovers // Forbidden From One Another// A War Divides Their People // Built A Path To Be Together // Yeah, uh, I forgot the next couple of lines but, uh, then it goes // SECRET TUNNELLLL // SECRET TUNNELLLLL/ THROUGH THE MOUNTAINSSSS // SECRET SECRET SECRET - Jeremy Zuckerman, ATLA
C’mon. Ding, ding, ding - is this thing turned on? *knocking on your brain*. You’re from some weird other world and he’s a eel just swimming in the trenches until you came and he gobbled you right up. He might have a secret tunnel dug under your dorm. You don’t know what he did those three days you were gone. And honestly? Floyd doesn’t really care whether the attachment makes sense or not. He likes you. A lot. Enough that being separated from you too long makes something restless and sharp coil inside him.
He’s spent his whole life bored of people once he figured them out, but you? You’re like a mystery box he keeps digging through, finding new things every time he thinks he’s reached the end. He doesn’t really care that you “shouldn’t” fit together — if anything, that makes it more fun. You became his favorite person in the entire world, and Floyd has never been good at letting go of things he likes.
“Shrimpyyyy, if you disappear on me again, I’m seriously gonna lose it. Maybe I should just keep ya with me forever instead, huh?”
“Kiss me out of the bearded barley. Nightly beside the green, green grass. // Swing, swing, swing the spinning step. // You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.” - Kiss Me, Sixpence None The Richer
Kalim has spent his entire life surrounded by expectations heavy enough to crush a person. He was born into responsibility before he was ever allowed to simply be a child, raised constantly aware that his life would never fully belong to him. Every meal tasted for poison, every decision watched carefully, every future plan laid out long before he had a say in it. Yet somehow, when he’s with you, all of that fades into the background noise of the world. Loving you feels wonderfully simple in a way nothing else in his life ever has. You don’t look at him and see status or obligation or the heir of the Al-Asim family — you just see Kalim. Loud, affectionate, overly excitable Kalim, who wants to dance with you under lantern light and laugh until his stomach hurts and experience every beautiful thing the world has to offer with your hand in his.
There’s a kind of freedom in that which feels almost miraculous to him. For perhaps the first time, the future doesn’t feel like a plan someone else drafted; it feels like something he might actually get to choose for himself. And if he gets to choose, then he wants you.
“C’mon, dance with me! I wanna make so many happy memories with you that we’ll never be able to count them all.”
“Where did you learn what it means to reciprocate? // And how much can I be expected to tolerate? // So I started to think 'bout the plans I made. The debt unpaid. // And you can't just call a spade a spade. // I watch the moon. Let it run my mood. Can’t stop thinking of you.” - Tek It, Cafune
Jamil has always understood restraint. Not as virtue, but as survival. Every emotion, every desire, every private impulse has had to be measured, trimmed, redirected into something acceptable, something useful. He is used to giving without being given anything equal in return — used to the quiet mathematics of obligation where reciprocation is never guaranteed. So when you enter his life and begin to give without asking for permission, without keeping score, something in him becomes unsettled in a way he cannot easily correct.
It follows him into silence, into duty, into the rare moments he finally has alone beneath the night sky. And there, staring at the moon from his window, he finds himself thinking of you in loops he cannot break out of — not because he wants to lose control, but because part of him has already started to. You become both comfort and complication: the only place his thoughts soften, and the only place they spiral. He tells himself to step back, to maintain distance, to preserve the order he has spent his entire life building… and yet he cannot stop returning to you in his mind.
Love, for Jamil, is not gentle. It is cyclical. It is consuming. It is the unbearable awareness that even freedom from you still feels like belonging to you in some quieter, more dangerous way.
"You’re becoming a problem I don’t know how to solve. Get out of my head....please."
“I started running from the love that you gave me. // ‘Cause I was scared half to death. That all I was chasing. // Was perfect perfection. Thank god it was a lesson.“ - Her, JVKE
Vil has spent his entire life running toward perfection so relentlessly that he forgot what it feels like to simply be seen. Not evaluated. Not ranked. Not compared. Seen. So when you enter his life and look at him without the usual awe that edges into distance or fear, something in him shifts in a way he cannot immediately pinpoint.
At first, he tries to treat you like everything else in his world: something to refine, to understand, to perfect. But you resist that logic entirely. You do not fit into his carefully curated expectations, and worse… you make him question whether those expectations were ever meant to define him at all. Vil runs, not because he does not feel, but because he feels too much when he is with you.
Affection becomes vulnerability. Admiration becomes exposure. Yet even as he distances himself, even as he tells himself that love must be controlled or it becomes ruinous, he finds himself learning something unbearable in its simplicity...perfection was never the point. You are not flawless, and you do not need to be. And somehow, that makes you the most honest thing in his life. He begins to understand that what he was chasing was not perfection itself, but the illusion of being worthy of love through it
“If you can love me like this… then maybe...Mm. Nevermind. These thoughts are best saved for when time stands still long enough to reflect properly."
“We’ll laugh until we think we’ll die // Barefoot on a summer night // Nothing could be sweeter than with you” — Home, Matthew Hall
Epel spent most of his life feeling squeezed into shapes that never fit quite right. Too pretty to be taken seriously, too restrained to act the way he wanted, too trapped beneath everyone else’s expectations to figure out who he actually was underneath all of it.
Before you, Epel thought freedom was having people look at him like he had the power to carry any burden, proving he was tougher than everyone expected him to be. But with you, freedom becomes something he feels rather than what he carries. It’s running barefoot through the orchards back home with your laughter ringing through the summer air, dirt clinging to your ankles while the sunset paints gold across the apple trees. It’s being able to breathe without worrying how he’s being perceived for once. Around you, he doesn’t have to force himself into somebody else’s idea of strength or beauty; he can just be. And maybe that’s why loving you settles so deeply into his bones.
Epel always understood loyalty. He understood hard work, sacrifice, doing right by the people he cared about — but devotion is something entirely different and mature. Devotion is the way he catches himself planning futures with you without even realizing it, but doesn't bactrack. It’s wanting to drag you proudly through his hometown by the hand just so everyone can see the person who makes him happiest. The person who makes him feel whole in a way he didn’t realize he’d been missing.
Epel knows meeting you might’ve been the best thing that ever happened to him, even beyond all the opportunities Night Raven College gave him. You are proof that there was something waiting for him beyond Harveston's boarders he grew up stuck inside, something sweeter than the juciest honeycrisp. And now that he has you, Epel would do just about anything to keep the right to stand at your side.
“Quit smilin’ at me like that, dangit…c'mon, let's go grab supper at the diner before I get an apeitite for somethin' else."
“Starlight. I will be chasing a starlight./ / Until the end of my life. // My life. You electrify my life./ / Let’s conspire to ignite. All the souls that would die just to feel alive. // I’ll never let you go.” - Starlight, muse
To Rook, loving you is not gentle thing . It is all-consuming devotion sharpened into something reverent. He has spent his life admiring beauty from afar, studying it, chasing it, praising it in all its fleeting forms. But you are different from every masterpiece he has ever gazed upon before. You are not simply something to observe; you are something that changed him in return. Your existence ignites him down to the marrow, sets every nerve alight until even speaking your name feels like striking flint against stone. And Rook adores the ache of it. The yearning. The hunger. To him, love should burn. It should inspire madness and poetry and reckless acts of passion all at once.
He watches you grow beneath his attention with fascinated delight, nurturing your confidence, drawing reactions from you nobody else can, molding and encouraging parts of you the world might’ve left untouched otherwise. There is selfishness in it too — a possessive streak hidden beneath all his elegant praise. Because while others may admire you, may bask in your brilliance from afar, Rook alone knows the intimate details of your soul. He alone earns the privilege of touching the fire without being burned away by it. And he guards that privilege fiercely. You are his muse, his greatest hunt, the star he would chase until the end of his life without regret.
“Mon trésor… do you realize what you have done to me? One glance from you and suddenly the entire world pales in comparison.”
“Emotions, what are you doin’? // Oh, don’t you know. Don’t you know you’ll be my ruin? // Emotions, you get me upset // Why make me remember, what I want to forget // I’ve been lonely, lonely too long // Emotions leave me alone” - Emotions, Brenda Lee
Idia wishes desperately that he’d never fallen for you at all. It would’ve been easier if you’d stayed another distant person on a screen somewhere — someone he could admire quietly without ever having to confront the horrible, aching reality of wanting. Because loving you drags every ugly, vulnerable part of him to the surface no matter how hard he tries to bury it again.
But you kept getting closer anyway, slipping past every locked door and defensive joke until suddenly you’re everywhere in his life, woven into his routines and thoughts so deeply he can’t imagine tearing you back out again without losing something vital in the process. And gods, he hates it. Hates the possessiveness curling ugly and desperate inside his chest whenever someone else takes your attention for too long. Hates how badly he wants to keep you hidden away where nothing can touch you but him. Hates that his body reacts to your affection, so painfully human despite all the years he spent trying to detach himself from that kind of vulnerability.
Most of all, he hates what loving him would cost you. Because Idia knows exactly what he is — a cursed bloodline, cursed future, a life shadowed by grief and inevitability.
Choosing him wouldn’t just mean dating some awkward shut-in; it would mean stepping willingly into the orbit of someone fundamentally doomed. And despite how selfishly he craves you, there’s still a part of him horrified by the idea of dragging you down with him. You deserve sunlight and freedom and a life untouched by the rot clinging to the Shroud name. Yet every time he tries to pull away for your sake, you smile at him or say his name softly and all his resolve crumbles instantly. He's so pathetic it isn't a joke anymore. But that’s the cruelest part of all... if you ever looked him in the eyes and chose him anyway, Idia knows he wouldn’t be strong enough to refuse you. So he stays trapped between guilt and desire, clutching his feelings like a wound he can’t stop reopening.
“Y-you seriously need better taste, okay…? ‘Cause if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start believing you actually want this. Want me...and you don't. Trust me, you don't."
“Weren’t we the stars in heaven? Weren’t we the salt in the sea? // Dragon in the new warm mountain. Didn’t you believe in me? // … I wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again. // Wanna witness your eyes looking.” - anything, adrianne lenker
To most people, Malleus is a title before he is a person. A prince, a prodigy, a creature powerful enough to inspire fear long before affection can ever take root. But you met him beneath moonlight without knowing any of that, and instead of recoiling, you smiled at him. Spoke to him. Laughed with him as though he were ordinary. Dared to demand a name from him. That memory settles inside Malleus like something sacred. Perhaps, at first, your ignorance of his identity fascinated him because it allowed him a fleeting taste of normalcy, but what truly captured his heart was the fact that you never changed after learning the truth. Your kindness did not lessen. Your eyes did not harden with fear. If anything, you only looked at him more warmly afterward, and Malleus — still young by Fae standards despite the weight of decades pressing against his shoulders — finds himself hopelessly undone by it.
With you, he feels less like an untouchable heir and more like a young man painfully, desperately in love for the first time. In a life marked constantly by distance and inevitability, you become a beacon calling him back from the loneliness waiting at the edges of his existence. He cherishes every glance you give him because your eyes always hold him gently, reflecting not the monster others expect to see, but someone worthy of companionship, devotion… and now, love. And if fate demanded he endure every lonely year of his life again just to arrive at the moment your hand reached for his, Malleus knows without hesitation that he would.
“My dearest child of man…I would cross every empty age again, just to stand before you once more. So please, continue to observe this world by my side.”
“But there never seems to be enough time // to do the things you want to do once you find them // I’ve looked around enough to know // That you’re the one want to go through time with” — Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce
Lilia has lived long enough to understand how fleeting happiness truly is. Centuries pass in blinks; people come and go like seasons, precious things slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he tries to hold them. Yet somehow, loving you makes time feel unbearably short all over again. Suddenly every moment matters in ways it hasn’t for years.
He wants everything with you — every first experience you’ve yet to have, every quiet memory waiting to be made, every tiny insignificant moment other people might overlook. He wants to hear your laughter echo through unfamiliar places, wants to dance with you beneath festival lights, wants lazy afternoons and sleepless nights and a thousand years’ worth of stories tucked carefully away where he can revisit them in the afterlife.
And selfishly, he wants to reclaim parts of himself through you too. To redo old memories with your hand in his instead of ghosts. To experience wonder not as a warrior or a general or an ancient fae burdened by history, but simply as someone deeply, hopelessly in love. Lilia does not intend to waste a single second now that he’s found you. The world has taken enough from him already; he refuses to let time steal this too.
“Fufufu… stay with me a little longer this night, won’t you? There are still so many decades worth of memories I wish to make with you.”
“ Look up at the light // This could be a dream or it could be real // Dive into my mind // And don’t come up for air, you won’t need it here” - This could be a dream , Aurora
Silver has always drifted through life as if he were moving through a dream he could never quite remember upon waking. The world feels distant to him at times — blurred at the edges, softened by sleep, untethered from the urgency that seems to guide everyone else. But you make things clear. When you speak, when you smile, when your hand brushes his and anchors him back to the present, he feels something settle that nervous tick to be better.
He cannot breathe right when you are not near, though he would never say it so plainly; it is simply that your absence leaves the air too still, too empty, as though his body has forgotten how to keep going without the sound of you guiding him through it. If he could, he would let you look straight into his mind, past the silence and the sleepiness and the strange half-formed thoughts he rarely knows how to explain, because then you would understand how deeply he has come to rely on your presence. You are not a burden, not a distraction, not something fleeting to wake from — you are another gentle hand the world has placed in his path, and Silver is grateful for you in the quiet, unwavering way he is grateful for dawn.
“Stay with me a little longer… I feel most awake when I’m together with you.”
“Say I wouldn’t care if you walked away // But every time you’re there I’m begging you to stay // And when you come close, I just tremble // And every time, every time you go // It’s like a knife that cuts through my soul” - Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Paloma Faith
For a solider, love is a curse reserved for your worst enemy. It may bolster your resolve but heavens if it does not carve an achilles heel across every square inch of your heart. Your life is not your own. It is that of your Lord. Yet you dare to promise a piece to your love so selfishly. A piece that is not yours to give. Even if so, it is all you have. You can never promise to offer your whole self as they do.
Love is the most blissful wound. Sebek is stuck on an infinite loop, stabbed over and over and over. It hurts to deny you, it hurts to see you, it hurts to feel for you, it hurts to dismiss thoughts of you — it hurts. Love is the most blissful wound. Love is a curse Sebek has found himself struck by, like a mighty lightning bolt. Yet he is nothing if not a battery ready to be charged.
“Curse it all! I give in! Have me, if you insist on it so desperately! Mock me for my weakness if you must, but I am exhausted from pretending I can bear your absence with dignity. Every time you leave, I find myself searching for you again regardless of my intentions… so stay. Stay beside me, and I shall devote myself to you fully.”
!! VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ!!
Hello, everyone! Can you believe that it's been nearly 5 years since I started this blog on a whim, wanting to write for TWST and post silly things about visual-novel development? I never thought that my writing would attract thousands of wonderful people, neither that my little hobby would lead to writing well over 500K words of content. Between fics, head-cannons, a visual novel, and now a mystery romance that I plan to publish on ao3. It's kind of wild, y'know? I've made some good friends on this site, shared work with some really great mutuals, and really just found lots of love in exploring communities.
Which...now leads me into the second part of this announcement. The part that took days of convincing myself to make, because I was stubborn and prideful and a bit ashamed.
If you've followed me for years, interacted with me, or are one of my good friends -- you know that back in 2023 I was diagnosed with a chronic, autonomic nervous system disorder called POTS (Postural-Orthostatic-Tachycardiac Syndrome). As the years have progressed, it's severity has only gotten worse. I've found my entire life flipped upside down, and when paired with cardiac problems and other issues...ah, it's been a difficullt journey. I had to drop out of college, take loans to pay my bills, and have lost 6 jobs while trying to find one that I can function with. Some I lasted a bit of time at - others I barely started before an accident happened that lead to resigning. One was this past week. My sixth opportunity, I nearly caused an accident that I likely would not have recovered from.
So, I'm out of work with no clear direction for a time. Between my loans, medical costs, and other needs from the past three years - I need to raise about 30k to make a clean slate going forward. I know. It's a hefty sum, but I need to start finding a way. A dollar from ten different means makes 10, which is 10 more than what I started with.
And...I know it's kind of silly. This idea just came to me while I was brainstorming for hours, because I've been writing on here for many years, and I thought 'If I could do a commission for every person who follows me, then it may just be enough'. I feel like those commercials on cable tv that go 'if everyone gave a dollar then all the puppies can have shelter for the winter' - and I used to hate those commercials because they'd make me so sad. Except I understand why they air, because it's true. If everyone who watched them DID donate a dollar, then I bet a lot of dogs would have a warm bed.
Ah. That was slightly off track. My apologies.
SKIP HERE IF YOU DON'T CARE FOR ALL THE CONTEXT. TLDR OR WHATEVER ACRONYM IT IS.
I'm opening commissions. Not just the ones that I had before for fun, but a LOT of quality commissions for what I hope is a fair price.
I'll write pretty much anything.
Character x Character, Character x OC, Character x Reader. Crack fics. Romance fics. Adventure. Fantasy. SFW. NSFW. First Person. Second Person. WHATEVER IT IS. Original ideas or defined tropes. Specific or non-specific. A fic of mine you want another part for? A series of mine you want rehashed or continued? You just want a surprise for the hell of it?
You got it, dude.
You want quality, human written, works? Fueled with love, time, and honestly sheer gratitude that a commission was even made? You got it. My keyboard and brain are yours to command.
At some point I'll be opening for art and comics too. I'm working on a portfolio.
Below are all the options available along with their rates.
Fanfiction
Options: Character X Character; Character X OC; Character X Reader
Comes in two shapes: 500 words and 1,000 words (Note: often write beyond the word benchmark as a curtesy to the commissioner)
Price: $10 for 500 words; $15 for 1000 words
Examples of my works (not of the length, but my quality) : Here ; Here
2. Character Letters
A letter written to you (or to an oc, or another character, etc) from a chosen character, following any prompt you wish!
Comes in two shapes: 250 words and 500 words (Note: I often write beyond the benchmark as a curtesy to the commissioner)
Price: $5 for 250 words; $10 for 500 words
Examples of my letter work (quality) : Here
3. Snippet Fiction!
A head cannon set or small imagine ficlet for a character or pairing of your choice! Written as a small scenario!
One Shape: 150 words
Price: $3
-
I can write for a wide variety of fandoms! The ones I am most well-versed in are: Twisted Wonderland, Baldur's Gate 3, Palia, Dragon Age, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (All Variants), Genshin Impact, and Tears of Themis!
Others I do but not as often - Stardew Valley, Sun Haven, Persona, Fire Emblem, Pillars of Eternity, Fields of Mistria, My Time Series, content for otome games (olba, error 143, a date with death, bloomic, etc)
Is a fandom you want not listed? MESSAGE ME. Chances are I know it or can study it.
All commissions are accepted on my Ko-Fi! CLICK HERE FOR LINK!
Should you purchase anything from me, I will not consider it a job done until you are absolutely satisfied with the result. I'll be working in batches to ensure quality.
If you've enjoyed any of my works over these years - thank you. Thank you so much for reading and interacting. I hope I can keep writing and spending time with you all here. If a commission is out of your reach, please share in hopes to get the word out.
I'll be reblogging this every week or so for visibility! Hope y'all don't mind!
Feel free to check out the commissioner's masterlist, where those who've sent one in have given me permission to share their finished products with the community!
MONEYYYY ARRIVED HEHOOOO- may i request allowance into breaching thy dm oh great CursedCola- i have some questions and im very bad at decision making so I'd much rather show you the ideas and you pick what you'd prefer writing HAHO IF YOU DONT MIND OFC!!
-🐅
Permission granted lol. This goes for everyone, by the way.
If you have an idea, feel free to message me on Kofi through DM to pitch it ^_^ All questions are encouraged and welcome.
Hello! I truly adore your work. Your thoughtfulness in delving further to incorporate a character's backstory and world into shaping their interactions truly creates compelling reads. You even manage this with characters I never originally cared for, thinking they were too bland or one-note.
Gushing over, on to my ask: Do you think it would make sense for Eternity Float aka Trials of Rowmance in TWST but with Floyd instead of Jade?
I'm considering a commission but if there's not enough material or it wouldn't make sense, I can think of something else.
Thank you for your hard work and please take care of yourself!
Hmm…well, Floyd specifically avoided attending the event (if I recall correctly from when I played it). So a fic for it could be a spin off, something set in the future, or a situation tangent to the actual event? The canon event gave plenty of information on the foreverfloat tradition to work with. It really depends on what you have in mind. Feel free to DM me on Kofi if you have a specific plot in mind for it ^_^
Prompt: Jack's got no game...or does he? (Jack Howl X Reader)
Requisitioner: @vinegarfiend
Warnings: None!
Words: 6976! (Purchase: Custom Fiction.)
A/N: Hello everyone! We've got another commission to be shared, requested over on my ko-fi! This one comes to you by the sponsor 'Evvie!' --Evvie put in a request that I write a fic that centers around a date that Jack Howl arranges for TWST's Yuu. I decided to lean into one of Jack's lesser mentioned interests aside from in the vignettes hehe.
If you would like to submit a commission of your own, feel free to check me out HERE!
If you'd like to learn about my medical journey, view my rates, or learn why I'm accepting commissions. Click: HERE!
The living room of Ramshackle Dorm had long since stopped resembling a productive study environment.
Books and loose parchment littered the coffee table in messy stacks. A half-finished alchemy worksheet hung off the edge beside a pack of abandoned pencils, while Deuce sat hunched over his notes with the kind of intense concentration that made it look like he was preparing for battle instead of Trein’s history quiz. Ace was sprawled across the couch like he paid rent, one leg kicked over the armrest as he flipped his pen between his fingers with increasing boredom. Epel had stolen Grim’s usual spot on the rug, cross-legged with a textbook propped in his lap.
Jack sat at the edge of the sofa nearest to the coffee table, posture straight despite the chaos around him. He was one of the only people actually managing to study.
And Yuu?
Yuu sat wedged between two towers of books with their chin resting heavily in their palm, staring blankly at a page they hadn’t absorbed in the past ten minutes.
From somewhere deeper in the dorm came a horrifying sound.
“NYAAAAAAAGH — !”
A loud crash followed.
Then silence.
The entire room paused their agenda.
Ace slowly lowered his pen, casting a look down the hall. “...Do we think he survived that one?”
Another miserable wail echoed from the bathroom.
“MY TAIL’S ON FIRE!”
Epel winced. “Okay, naw, ah’m startin’ ta feel kinda bad for him.”
“You weren’t saying that twenty minutes ago,” Deuce pointed out without looking up from his notes.
“Twenty minutes ago Ah didn’ know the smoke was gonna start comin’ out under the bathroom door!”
As if summoned by the statement, a faint curl of dark brown smoke drifted down the hallway.
Yuu let out a long, exhausted sigh and dropped their forehead directly onto the open pages of their textbook.
“I just want one normal evening,” they groaned into the paper.
Jack’s ears twitched. For the first time, he looked up from his notes packet.
Ace snorted immediately. “You took pity on him on the first day. That was your mistake.”
“I’m serious,” Yuu mumbled, finally lifting their head enough to look around at the group. Their expression was worn down in the particular way only Grim-related disasters could accomplish. “One. Just one normal study night. No ghosts. No explosions. No weird curses.”
Another shriek erupted from the bathroom.
“IT BURNS WHEN I FART!”
Yuu closed their eyes. “And no explosive diarrhea.”
Deuce physically recoiled at the phrase. “You really didn’t have to say it like that.”
“How else am I supposed to say it?!” Yuu threw both hands into the air. “He keeps farting fire! Actual fire, Deuce!”
Right on cue, there was a muffled fwump from the hallway followed by Grim hacking up a hairball. A faint orange glow flickered beneath the bathroom door.
Ace burst into laughter so suddenly he nearly slid off the couch.
“Oh my god, he really is shooting flames out of his ass! I thought you were kidding earlier!”
“Ace!” Deuce snapped, horrified.
“What? He is!”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, silently sliding Yuu’s textbook out before they could give themselves a welt.
Epel looked deeply conflicted between concern and amusement. His upper lip twitched in the space between “What did he even eat?”
“That raspberry-looking plant from alchemy,” Yuu answered miserably.
Jack immediately looked up from his pilfering. “The red one with the spotted leaves?”
“Yeah.”
“That wasn’t a raspberry.” Jack clicked his tongue.
Yuu sighed, their wrinkles beginning to form wrinkles. “I know that now.”
Ace barked another laugh, close to a strangled garble.
Yuu pointed accusingly toward him and every other mage in the room. “Why does a plant that looks exactly like a raspberry make someone fart fire?! Who invented that?! What sicko in this world thought cultivating that sort of thing would help society?!”
“This is why Professor Crewel says not to ingest random ingredients,” Jack said flatly.
“Okay, in Grim’s defense,” Ace cut in, grinning, “he probably thought eating the magic ingredient would make him stronger or something.”
Another agonized cry rang through the dorm.
“YUUUU! MY TAIL’S GONNA FALL OFF—!”
Deuce looked increasingly alarmed. “Should we maybe take him to the infirmary?”
“He already went,” Yuu replied tiredly. “They said he just has to ‘let the effects pass naturally.’”
“THERE’S NO NATURAL ABOUT THIS!”
“You’ll live!” Yuu called back automatically.
“IT AIN’T LIVIN’ IF I CAN’T SIT DOWN!”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose while his tail thumped once against the couch cushion in poorly concealed amusement.
“I don’t like how you’re used to this, but I’m not surprised either.”
Yuu looked him dead in the eye.
“Jack. Three weeks ago he swallowed an entire bottle of shrinking potion because he thought it was grape soda.”
“…Right.”
“And one time he set the foyer curtains on fire while trying to roast chestnuts indoors.”
Ace perked up. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that one! Do you still have them?”
Without further comment, Yuu juts their thumb towards the nearest hallway. Ace stretched his neck to see the mangled curtain covering only half of the archway window.
“How do you forget about that one?” Deuce snorted a laugh,”he was missing a patch of fur on his scalp for months.”
“Well now I’ll be shocked if he comes out with anything but a singed ass,” Ace rolled his eyes, “maybe he’ll wear pants now.”
Another distant explosion echoed through Ramshackle.
Silence settled over the room afterward.
“…Ah can smell smoke,” Epel whispered.
Yuu sighed the sigh of someone aged beyond their years. “Yeah. Me too.”
Jack glanced toward the hall again, brows furrowed. For all his usual bluntness, there was genuine concern beneath it now. “…Should somebody check on him?”
Before Yuu could answer, Grim came tearing around the corner at full speed.
His fur was puffed out twice its normal size, eyes wild with panic, and smoke curled faintly behind him like a cartoon fuse.
Ace snickered so hard he had to fold over the arm of the chair. Deuce made a helpless noise that was half groan and half laugh. Epel buried his face in his sleeve, shoulders shaking. Even Jack looked like he was fighting the impulse.
Yuu simply closed their textbook with the exhausted calm of someone who had already accepted their fate hours ago.
“Come on. Let’s go see if Crewel isn’t upset with you anymore.”
—
Crowley’s announcement about an extended weekend was barely up an hour before the entire campus lit with excitement.
Students flooded the halls making plans, arguing over reservations, scrambling to book train tickets home before everything filled up. Even Ramshackle wasn’t immune to it. Grim spent the last twenty minutes dramatically lamenting that nobody ever took him on luxurious vacations despite the fact he is practically a “campus celebrity”.
Yuu tuned him out, for the most part.
They were currently crouched beside the old couch in Ramshackle’s living room trying to untangle a charging cord that had somehow wrapped itself around one of the table legs. The late afternoon light filtering through the dusty windows painted the room gold, and outside they could hear the distant chatter of students heading back from classes.
The front door creaked open.
“Yuu?”
Jack’s voice carried easily through the dorm, deep and familiar.
“In here!” they called back.
Heavy footsteps crossed the floorboards before he appeared in the doorway of the living room. He had his gym bag slung over one shoulder, ashen hair slightly damp around the edges like he’d showered recently after practice. His ears twitched once when he spotted them half underneath the coffee table.
“…What are you doing?”
Yuu looked up blandly, holding up the tangled mess of cord. “Fighting for my life.”
Jack snorted through his nose.
It was brief, but Yuu had learned by now that Jack’s quieter reactions usually meant he found something genuinely funny.
They finally tugged the cord free with a victorious little “Ha!” before standing up and dusting off their knees.
“So,” they said, “what’s up?”
Jack shifted his weight.
Immediately, Yuu noticed something slightly…off.
Jack was normally straightforward to the point of bluntness. If he had something to say, he usually just said it. But now his gaze flicked away for half a second, one hand adjusting unnecessarily on the strap of his bag.
His ears angled back faintly.
“There’s a long weekend coming up,” he said. “My family usually heads to a ski lodge in the Shaftlands around this time. We’ve got a membership there.”
Yuu leaned back against the arm of the couch, watching him curiously. The explanation sounded rehearsed somehow, like he’d been thinking about how to bring this up for a while.
Jack continued before the silence could stretch too long.
“My siblings like going every year. There’s good snow this season, apparently.” His ears flicked once. “So I was thinking…”
He hesitated, took his cheek between his teeth. Amber eyes dodged Yuu carefully in a game of stalling.
Then he finally looked at them properly.
“Do you…want to come with me?”
Yuu blinked.
For a second, they genuinely thought they’d misheard him.
“…Wait,” they said slowly. “Really?”
A faint flush crept onto Jack’s face almost immediately, visible even beneath the darker tone of his skin. He looked away first, shoulders stiffening just slightly as though he already regretted phrasing it so bluntly.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
Yuu stared at him another second before narrowing their eyes suspiciously.
“What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one.”
“You’re inviting me on a vacation trip. There is absolutely a catch. A fee?”
Jack exhaled through his nose, somewhere between amused and exasperated. “No catch. I just…” He adjusted the strap of his gym bag unnecessarily. “Thought you could use a break.”
The last part came as a flustered mutter, his ears flattened down.
And before Yuu could brush it off or joke again, he quickly added, “Besides, I never really repaid you for helping with the mess in Savanaclaw when we first met.”
“The magift incident?” Yuu asked, the first thing on their mind.
Jack nodded once, not eager to discuss the details of his dorm’s shame.
Yuu couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped them. “Jack, you’ve repaid me like ten times over since then.”
“I haven’t.” he argued.
“You helped me deal with Azul, dummy.”
“That’s different.”
Crowley made the request, and he couldn’t in good conscience leave you to suffer when the other three idiots fell to Ashengrotto’s mercy.
“You also fix things around Ramshackle constantly.” Yuu gestured vaguely around the room. “The window latch. The porch steps. My hair dryer last week—”
“True,” Jack interrupted, ears twitching faintly. “But I broke that first.”
He’d stopped by for a shower after his morning run, and they’d leant it to him before class. The clogged fan was more-so their own fault yet he still replaced it.
Jack’s mouth twitched faintly at the corners, the closest thing he usually got to a grin when he had full control. Which he tried to maintain with their eyes scrutinizing every subtle shuffle on his feet.
Jack finally looked back at Yuu, more serious this time.
“So,” he dragged out, cutting clean through the moment before either of them could dance around it any longer. “Do you want to come?
There was something earnest in the way he asked it now. Not awkward exactly, Jack was too proud for that, but careful in a way Yuu wasn’t used to seeing from him. You opened their mouth to answer, but paused.
Their nose scrunched up with an afterthought. “What about Grim?”
The question was practical.. Leaving Ramshackle unattended overnight was one thing.
Leaving Grim unattended was another entirely.
“I already asked Ruggie senpai to watch him.” Jack assured, setting his shoulder back a bit.
Yuu blinked, shocked.
“You asked him before asking me?”
Jack looked faintly defensive at that. “Well, yeah. I wasn’t gonna invite you if you couldn’t actually go.”
Jack shifted slightly where he stood near the doorway, one hand still hooked around the strap of his gym bag. There was a quiet confidence to the answer, like this had been settled before he’d even stepped foot inside Ramshackle today.
The thought stirred something in Yuu’s chest. He really meant to give them a break.
Jack shifted his weight, one hand still hooked around the strap of his gym bag. “Besides, Grim knows Ruggie senpai already. It’s not like he’d be stuck with a stranger.”
“True,” Yuu admitted slowly, though their eyes narrowed a second later. “How much did Ruggie charge you?”
Jack looked away.
That deflection was answer enough.
“…Jack.”
“It wasn’t that bad, believe me.”
“Jack.”
Said man heaved a sigh from his chest. “How much he charged is between him and me, but it’s not unreasonable. So quit looking at me that, alright?”
He wouldn’t so much as think of the number. Ruggie’s resourcefulness would truly remain a mystery from them and anyone else who wanted to stick their nose in it.
Rather than drag the painful silence out, Jack jut his chin in their direction. Amber eyes locked pointedly on the drapes behind them rather than see that pitying expression.
The silent question sat between them for a third time, along with the travel pass in his back pocket.
A ski trip with Jack.
Cold mountain air. Snow. A few days away from NRC chaos.
Yuu’s eyes crinkled at the corners at the very thought.
“…Yeah,” they said. “I do. Pick me up on Friday? ”
Jack gave them a curt nod before shuffling to tug a small brochure from the lodge out of his duffle bag. It was kept pristine, likely safe in a pocket rather than smooshed with his gym belongings. He handed it over to them with formal courtesy, yet the gentle sway of his tail gave away exactly how glad he was for their decision.
---
The Shaftland mountaintops are more breathtaking than any hill on the Island of Sages.
That was Yuu’s first coherent thought, stepping out of the shuttle and into the crisp mountain air.
Snow blanketed everything in soft white layers, thick over the rooftops and piled high along the paths winding between cabins. The surrounding pines glittered with frost beneath the late afternoon sun, and somewhere in the distance Yuu could hear the muffled sounds of people laughing near the slopes.
Their breath fogged in front of them immediately.
“Oh, wow,” they murmured in awe.
Beside them, Jack adjusted the duffel bag over one shoulder, looking considerably more at home in the cold than Yuu did. His ears twitched slightly in the mountain wind.
“Told you it was nice.”
“Nice?” Yuu repeated, looking around in disbelief. “Jack, this place is gorgeous.”
Something pleased flickered briefly across his face at their reaction before he looked away again.
The lodge itself sat further up the mountain, all warm golden lights and dark wood beams against the snow. Smaller family cabins dotted the surrounding area, smoke curling lazily from chimneys.
As they started up the path, Jack cleared his throat.
“So… there’s something I should probably mention first.”
Yuu glanced at him. “That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not.” He paused. “It’s just that my siblings aren’t here.”
“Oh?”
“My sister got grounded for sneaking out.”
Yuu snorted, watching as an elder-brother 's worries drag Jack’s expression to something miserable.
“And my brother ditched the trip for a date.”
That made them fully stop walking, raising a brow with an impish glint.
“…Your little brother?”
Jack looked deeply unimpressed. “Yeah.”
Yuu stared at him for one long second before their shoulders shook.
“No way.”
“Don’t start.”Jack flicked their forehead, “We can still go back to school.”
“Jack Howl got abandoned for a date by his baby brother?”
“He’s not a baby. He’s a rebellious tween who thinks he knows everything.”
“Yet he has better game than you.”
Jack groaned while Yuu skipped beside him, boots crunching through the snow again as they continued up the path.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.” They pinched their fingers together with just a millimeter from touching.
His tail flicked behind him in annoyance, though Yuu caught the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Still, after a moment, Jack glanced sideways at them again.
“…You don’t mind, right?” The question was casual on the surface, but Yuu noticed the subtle hesitation underneath it. Without his siblings, they’d be alone overnight. He was trying to gauge whether this suddenly becoming a trip with just the two of them changed anything. The last thing Jack wanted to be was inconsiderate.
Yuu schooled the nerves bundling deep down.
“Jack,” they said, “I agreed to come because I wanted to spend time with you. We can pester your siblings next time.”
Jack nearly missed a step up the pathway, just as his cheeks finally took that tinted color. Although unlike the people surrounding them, his flush wasn't from the cold.
“…Right,” he muttered.
Yuu hid their smile behind the collar of their coat.
—
By the time they reached the cabin area, snow had already started dusting lightly from the sky again.
Jack stopped in front of a large cabin tucked near the edge of the woods. Warm light glowed through the windows, and the entire place looked cozy enough to belong in a postcard.
“This is yours?” Yuu asked.
“My family’s,” Jack corrected as he unlocked the door.
The inside was even nicer.
Warm wooden walls, thick rugs, a massive stone fireplace already crackling with heat. The air smelled faintly like cedar and smoke, and Yuu immediately felt their frozen fingers start thawing.
“This is huge,” they took it in as Jack carried both their bags inside before they could protest.
“It’s easier when everybody comes up together.” He set the luggage down near the small kitchen archway. “My grandparents stay here sometimes too.”
Yuu wandered a little further into the living area, still taking everything in, before turning back toward him.
“So where am I sleeping?”
Jack answered so quickly it almost sounded rehearsed.
“You can take my room.”
Yuu blinked. “Jack, I can just use a guest room.”
“There isn’t really one,” he admitted. “And I figured you’d probably be more comfortable in mine than sleeping around a bunch of my family’s stuff.”
“Oh.”
The sudden thoughtfulness of that hit harder than expected, but this was Jack. They should have expected him to think ten steps ahead.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll stay in my parents’ room. They’re not using it this weekend anyway.”
“You don’t have to give up your room for me.”
“It’s fine.”
And judging by the firm look on his face, arguing about it would go nowhere.
Yuu smiled a little instead.
“…Thanks, Jack.”
His ears flicked upward slightly at the sound of his name spoken so softly.
Then, before the moment could linger too long, he grabbed one of the bags again and jerked his head toward the hallway.
“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll show you where everything is.”
—-
By the time they were ready to leave the cabin, the afternoon properly settled in around the mountain, turning the snow outside bright and almost blinding beneath a pale winter sky.
Yuu stood near the front door in a bundle of borrowed layers, blinking down at themselves as they adjusted the cuffs of the cream puffer coat Jack had handed over from his mother’s closet. It was warmer than anything they’d brought, thick and soft-lined, with a pale, almost feminine cut to it that made it look a little too cute on them in a way they were not entirely prepared for. The matching gloves were a little oversized, and the fluffy ushanka hat kept slipping low over their ears.
Jack, who had apparently decided this was normal and not at all worth commenting on, was tightening the strap on his own gear nearby.
“This is your mom’s?” Yuu asked, tugging the sleeve down over their wrist.
“Yes,” Jack said, glancing over. His gaze traveled briefly over the fit before he nodded once, apparently satisfied. “It suits you.”
Yuu paused.
That earned them an immediate, suspiciously casual look from Jack as he finished fastening his boots.
“It’s just winter gear. Don’t make a big deal about it,” he added, though the faint rise of color on his cheeks suggested he’d been thinking something else entirely.
Yuu smiled to themselves and turned toward the mirror near the entryway just long enough to catch their reflection. Between the soft coat, the scarf wrapped high around their neck, and the fluffy earflap hat Jack’s mother had lent them, they looked warmer than they ever had in their life.
Also, annoyingly adorable.
“I can’t believe you let me wear something this cute,” they said, turning back to him.
Jack huffed softly through his nose. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”
—
A few minutes later, they were outside, heading toward the slopes with the cold air crisp against their cheeks and the snow crunching under their boots. Jack carried most of the gear without complaint, snowboard tucked under one arm and an extra tube under the other. The beginner slope was already busy with other guests in the distance, though not so crowded that it felt overwhelming. Everything around them shimmered with winter light and movement — people socializing, ski poles flashing, the distant whoosh of snow underboards.
Yuu looked around with wide eyes. “I didn’t expect there to be so many people this time of year.”
Jack glanced at them and gave a small nod. “Told you.It’s a popular spot for tourism. If we went an hour south, you’d be near where Epel’s from.”
“I know, but still.”
He seemed pleased by that in the quiet way he usually was, and for a moment he looked almost at peace here, as if the mountain had been built specifically for him.
Yuu’s gaze dropped to the snowboard in his hand, then to the tube, and they made a face.
“I should warn you,” they said, “I have never skied or snowboarded in my life.”
Jack stopped walking.
“…Never?”
“Nope.”
He studied them for a moment, then said, carefully, “If you want, I can teach you. But maybe not today.”
Yuu blinked. “Why not today?”
Jack gave them a look that was somehow both patient and practical. “Because it’s your first time, and I’d rather not send you down a slope headfirst when you’ve got only one day here.”
Yuu made a soft, offended sound. “I’m not that fragile.”
“Maybe next time,” Jack continued, tone easing a little. “When we have more than one day.”
The wording did something unhelpful and warm to Yuu’s chest, but before they could poke at it, Jack adjusted his grip on the tube and nodded toward the beginner slope.
“There are sled tubes,” he said. “You can start with the bunny run.”
He almost wanted to say it suited them, given how those ear covers knocked their intimidation factor from neutral to docile. Yet thought better of it.
At the lift, Jack stood behind them when they boarded, one steady hand settling at their waist for balance as the seat swung slightly under their weight. Yuu startled a little at first, then relaxed when they realized he was just making sure they didn’t slip.
The cold air brushed their face as the lift began to rise, carrying them over the white slope below. From up here, the mountain looked even prettier — wide stretches of untouched snow, the sharp line of the trees, and tiny skiers moving like dots below them.
Jack kept one hand lightly at their side, careful and grounding.
“You okay?” he asked.
Yuu leaned back a little, watching the slope grow farther below them. “I think I’m too busy being impressed to be nervous.”
“That’s good.”
He looked ahead again, posture easy but alert in the way it always was. The quiet between them felt comfortable rather than awkward, broken only by the creak of the lift and the distant rush of wind.
By the time they reached the beginner run, Jack dismounted smoothly and then turned back to help Yuu down. He took the tube next, setting it on the snow and patting the inner edge.
“Sit.”
Yuu obeyed, then immediately looked uncertain once they were settled into the tube. “This feels suspiciously like the prelude to disaster and I don’t have health insurance.”
“It isn’t, I promise.” He bit his lip not to laugh.
Jack knelt slightly in front of them, checking the tube’s position, then adjusted their gloves where they held the handles. “Hold on tight.”
Yuu’s fingers tightened obediently.
Jack’s gaze sharpened just a little. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
Yuu looked up at him. “Yes.”
He didn’t ask again.
“You want me to send you down?”
That made them hesitate for half a second, but only half. “Yes.”
He held their gaze one second longer, clearly making sure they meant it, before his expression eased. Satisfied, he nodded once.
“Okay.”
Then, with one quick shove of his foot against the side of the tube, he sent them careening down the slope.
Yuu’s scream split the air almost immediately. His ears flicked back on recoil.
Jack followed on his snowboard right after, pushing off with easy control, and for one brief moment he heard nothing but wind —
Then Yuu’s screams broke into laughter.
He caught the sound immediately, sharp and bright over the snowbend.
Jack’s mouth twitched.
Apparently they were enjoying themselves enough.
He kicked harder, carving down the slope after them while their laughter carried back up to him again and again, warm and delighted and entirely unlike the nervous sound they’d made only minutes before.
At the bottom, Yuu wobbled upright in the tube, cheeks flushed red from the cold and from laughing so hard they could barely breathe. Their hair had come loose from beneath the hat in a messy windblown halo, and they looked thoroughly thrilled.
The tube had half-swallowed them on landing, awkwardly stuck around their hips while they tried unsuccessfully to stand.
“It won’t let me out,” they wheezed.
Jack stepped off his board, amusement obvious now as he grabbed both their hands.
“One, two—”
With a firm tug, Jack pulled them free at last, and Yuu nearly stumbled straight into him before catching themselves. They were still laughing, breathless and bright-eyed, when Jack looked down at them and asked, feigning nonchalance, “Did you like it?”
Yuu was still trying to recover enough to answer properly, but the smile on their face said everything.
Jack’s gaze softened by a fraction. “Your voice is usually easy to pick out of a crowd,” he huffed a laugh. “But all I heard going down was you.”
Yuu laughed again, breath fogging in the cold air.
Then suddenly they pointed straight up the mountainside.
“Again!”
“Okay,” Jack said easily, stepping back to grab their gear. “C’mon, let’s head ba—”
“No.” Yuu pointed further upward toward another slope entirely. He followed their goal to the advanced placement course. The black diamond. His teeth clenched.
“That one! I want to do that one!”
—
By the time they reached the top of the black diamond course, Jack was beginning to understand exactly what his senpai meant when they called Yuu his weak spot.
He had told himself it was a bad idea almost the entire way up.
Not because he doubted Yuu’s courage. That was a reoccuring problem, actually. They had far too much of it.
The second they flashed him that bright, reckless smile and pointed toward the advanced slope, every sensible thought he had about maybe this is too much for a first day had gone right out of his head.
He just couldn’t say ‘no’.
So instead of refusing, he ended up hauling a two-person tube up the slope while Yuu practically bounced beside him, still buzzing from the first ride like they had just discovered the meaning of life.
At the top, Jack set the tube down in the snow and exhaled slowly, watching his breath fog in the cold air. The slope ahead dropped away sharply, fast and narrow, with hard-packed snow and enough natural bumps to send even a good rider airborne if they hit it right. It was the kind of course that looked fun only after you survived it.
Yuu, naturally, looked thrilled. He forgot how easily they adapted.
Jack glanced at them, then pointed toward the front of the tube. “You sit there.”
Yuu blinked. “Why?”
“Because I’m heavier,” he said, already stepping around them, “and the back will stay steadier that way.”
Their expression shifted into open amusement. “You’re just worried I’ll fall out, there’s a chasm between your eyebrows that’s going to leave a mark.”
Jack did not answer immediately, mainly because they weren’t wrong and he wasn’t about to tell a boldfaced lie.
Yuu grinned wider and climbed into the front of the tube with far too much enthusiasm, settling in and gripping the handles. Jack moved behind them, bracing one knee in the snow as he lowered himself into place. The tube dipped slightly beneath his weight, and he immediately adjusted, one arm coming around to steady the side.
His hands hovered for a second at Yuu’s waist, then settled on the handles once he was sure they were secure.
“Hold on,” he commanded, curt. “Don’t let go and keep your feet from skidding.”
Yuu looked back over their shoulder, eyes shining with ice globs clinging to their hair. “If we hit a rock, do you think it’ll launch me?.”
“Yes. So let’s not.” Jack discouraged the thought, not finding their human slingshot funny.
That earned him a laugh, soft and delighted, and Jack had the completely unhelpful thought that they looked especially pretty like this—cheeks pink from the cold, hair dusted with melting snow, eyes bright with anticipation.
He looked away before that thought could become anything more dangerous. They’re here for a break. Nothing more.
Yuu, apparently not intending to give him a chance to recover, rocked eagerly in the tube. “You ready?”
Jack let out a quiet breath. “No.”
He gave one last look down the course, gauged the line ahead, then braced himself.
When he kicked off, the tube lurched forward hard enough to make Yuu yelp, and then they were flying.
The first straight down drop sent them both into screaming. Albeit Jack’s was far less pitched and more from a sink in his chest.
Cold wind tore at Jack’s ears. The tube bounced hard over a ridge, jolting them up off the snow for a second before slamming back down. Instinctively, Jack’s legs squeezed in around Yuu’s sides to keep them from sliding too far forward. His arms tightened too, one hand braced at the side, the other catching the tube whenever it started to drift.
Yuu shrieked, then immediately burst into laughter so bright Jack almost laughed with them just from the sound of it.
The track was rougher than it looked from below. They hit one bump, then another, and the tube hopped sideways before Jack leaned hard to the left, steering them away from the edge of a cluster of exposed rocks. A few seconds later they hit a dip that lifted them so suddenly both of them left the ground for a breathless moment.
“Watch the turn!” he called, because apparently he was now the responsible one in a situation that involved being hurled downhill in a rubber tube at questionable speed.
“I’m trying!” Yuu shouted back, still laughing hard enough to make the words waver.
Another bump. Another sharp slide.
Jack leaned right this time, narrowly missing a patch of ice and a tree trunk that flashed past just close enough to earn a sharp, startled noise from both of them.
His pulse was beating fast now—not from fear exactly, though there was some of that too—but from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. The cold air, the speed, the rush of being with someone as the world blurred around them. It was different compared to doing it alone on a snowboard.
At some point, Jack’s focus bent and it became less about leading the ride and more joining in for the fun
He got it now.
He understood why people did this for enjoyment. Why his parents had always seemed so fond of the tubing runs when they came here together. With another person in the tube, the whole thing felt different—less like a solo test of balance and more like a shared rush, a sprint through cold air with someone else’s laughter in your ears.
It was more chaotic than snowboarding. Less controlled.
Far more fun.
Especially when the wind steals your screams and no one is there to judge.
By the time their tube shot toward the end of the course, both of them were breathless from shouting and clenching their stomachs every time it bounced. Jack barely had time to brace before the run flattened out and they slid to a stop in a spray of snow.
For a second, there was only silence as they caught their breath.
Then Jack leaned forwards, trying to catch the vibrancy back with his pulse in his ears.
Yuu twisted around in the tube to face him, cheeks flushed, eyes shining so brightly they almost looked lit from within.
“One more time!”
Just like before, who was Jack to tell them ‘no’?
—
By the time evening settled over the lodge, the windows had gone dark with winter night.
Dinner had been simple—salisbury steaks, baked potatoes, and warm rolls from the lodge restaurant—but after a full day out in the cold, it had tasted better than almost anything Jack could remember. Yuu had looked half asleep by the time they’d gotten back to the cabin, all bundled up again and flushed from a dip in the sauna.
Inside their space, though, the cabin was alive in a different way than when they first settled in. The fireplace crackled softly across the room, casting amber light over the wood-paneled walls and the thick blanket draped around Yuu’s shoulders. They were curled into the corner of the sofa in front of the fire, looking small beneath one of Jack’s heavy blankets and very content about it.
Jack returned a moment later carrying two mugs carefully in his hands.
Hot cocoa steamed from both cups, the scent sweet and rich as he crossed the room and lowered himself onto the couch beside them. It was well past his usual bedtime—far past it, really—but he did not seem even slightly bothered by that fact. If anything, he looked like he had settled into the quiet of the evening as naturally as he did the snow.
Yuu peeked at him over the rim of the blanket. “You’re really staying up this late?”
Jack glanced at the clock, then back at them. “It’s not that late.”
“It is for you.”
He gave them a look that was almost dry enough to count as a joke. “I’m aware.”
That earned a soft laugh from Yuu, and Jack’s tail gave a lazy sweep behind the couch before settling again.
For a while, they simply sat there together, shoulders almost touching, heat from the fire warming their faces while the storm-soft hush of the mountain pressed gently against the windows. Yuu held the mug in both hands, letting the warmth seep into their fingers. Jack leaned back into the cushions with his own cocoa resting carefully in his palm, looking far too calm for someone who had spent the entire day hauling them around the slopes and pretending he was not absolutely charmed by every second of it.
After a little while, Yuu turned toward him.
They lifted their cup without a word, a silent request.
Jack understood immediately. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he raised his mug to meet theirs.
The ceramic made a soft, cozy clink.
Yuu smiled at him over the rim. “To Jack,” they said, voice warm with the firelight. “The best guy I’ll ever know. Thank you for bringing me here. I had a lot of fun.”
Jack froze mid-sip, his grip tightened around the mug handle. He should have expected this, maybe. Yuu was always kind in a way that got under his skin before he had time to brace for it. Too sincere, too sweet, it’s no wonder their enrollment at Night Raven was a fluke. At least partially, since their mind could string sentences most guys there cringed to even think.
Even him. Jack is not the type to extend an invite to another person. Their company had to be better than his own solitude. Yuu miscontrived his intentions. For that, he was guilty.
That undeserved admiration settled heavily over his shoulders.
Jack looked at them quietly for a moment, his cocoa forgotten in his hands. The cabin had gone still around them—just the crackling fireplace, the soft hiss of wind outside the windows, and Yuu sitting curled beside him beneath his family’s roof like they belonged there.
Like they belonged with him.
“You’re special,” Jack sighed, resigning himself to honesty’s curse. His voice dipped to a low rumble, short of his usual blunt dictation.
Yuu blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his voice.
Jack’s ears twitched once before flattening faintly with embarrassment, but he forced himself to continue instead of retreating from it.
“I meant what I said before,” he admitted. “About wanting to give you a break.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the fire before returning to them. “But that wasn’t the only reason I asked you to come.”
Jack swallowed a thick thought.
“I wanted…” He exhaled slow through his nose. “I wanted time with you. Just you.”
Something in Yuu’s expression softened immediately.
Jack could feel his pulse beating harder now, strangely aware of every inch between them on the couch. The warmth of them. The faint scent of cocoa and cedarwood lingering in the room. The way Yuu’s knee pressed against his when they shifted.
“I like being around you,” he continued, tucking his chin down. “More than anybody else.”
The confession sat between them in the firelight, raw in a way Jack usually hated being.
He waited, not that he could add more if he wanted to. His voice wouldn’t comply.
“Jack.”
They called, and he turned to face their response with dignity… yet the look on Yuu’s face nearly unraveled him completely. Their eyes were warm and shining in the glow of the fire, their expression so unbearably fond that it made his chest ache.
Yuu moved before he could ask what they were doing, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Their lips were warm and quick, and when they pulled back, they reached up with one finger and brushed a little whipped cream from the tip of his nose. He hadn’t realized it was there to begin with.
“I like spending time with you too.”
That guilt in his stomach dispelled as quick as it made an appearance.
Something inside him gave way.
He set his mug down quickly on the table beside the couch before it could spill from his suddenly clumsy grip. Then his hand came up to cradle Yuu’s cheek, large and warm against their skin, thumb brushing lightly beneath their eye as though he couldn’t help touching them now that he’d started.
Yuu leaned into his palm, their chest rising with one deep breath.
Before he could wonder what that meant, Jack took the plunge down a new, undiscovered slope. He pulled them in and stole that breath straight from their lungs.
Yuu made a soft startled sound against his mouth before melting into him almost instantly, one hand catching lightly against the front of his sweater. The kiss tasted faintly of cocoa and whipped cream, sweet and warm from the drinks they’d abandoned moments earlier.
Jack’s fingers flexed gently along Yuu’s cheek as he tilted closer.
He’d imagined this before—more than once, if he was being honest with himself — but reality was somehow worse in the best possible way. Yuu was warm beneath his hand, lips soft against his, their breath mingling with his in little uneven puffs while the fire crackled beside them.
Yuu shifted closer on instinct, and the blanket slipped around both of them as they moved. Jack’s other arm immediately wrapped around their waist to steady them, pulling them into his lap like there was nowhere else they were supposed to be.
The couch cushions dipped beneath the added weight.
Neither of them cared.
Jack kissed them again, slower this time.
He lingered in it.
Savored it.
His thumb stroked softly along Yuu’s cheekbone while their fingers slid upward into the hair at the nape of his neck, gentle enough to make a shiver run down his spine despite the warmth of the room.
Outside, snow drifted quietly past the windows.
Inside, the fire painted a portrait of passion.
Yuu pulled back barely an inch, enough for Jack to feel their smile against his mouth before they leaned in again themselves this time, kissing him with a sweetness that made something deep in his chest tighten painfully.
Mercy.
He liked them so much.
More than he’d realized.
Jack’s forehead rested against theirs when they finally broke apart for air, both of them breathing a little unevenly after the leap they’d just taken together.
Jack might’ve decided to ask Yuu along by mere chance, yet there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it’s the best decision he’s made in a long time.
Hello!! I just wanna say you cooked up so good with the fic of reader/yuu returning to earth 😭!! as a leona fan, its rare to find fics that portray him beyond ' a lazy lion ' etc etc I just feel like I stumbled across a gem?? for free?? i've been in the fandom from the start so im quite tired of leona being written so... flat.
Anyways I thought of dropping by to thank you sincerely, from the bottom of my heart 💐💐💐. I am going to reread it so muchhhh hhhhggh. I also see your comms are open and I'm trying to see if I have the budget to commission you for something w leona 🥺 Also a reminder to nourish & hydrate yourself as you go about your day/evening!!
Hahaha. I do understand why he gets that portrayal because that’s how people in Wonderland see him. Also how he sees himself. Don’t get me wrong, he IS lazy. Mainly because he’s a byproduct of his environment, and when you live life trying, trying, trying — with nothing to show for it in the end?
Well, you stop. Some people come across as flippant yet care more than the ones who work tirelessly. They’ve just been at the game long enough to know that working harder doesn’t always get you what you want. It isn’t about your grit or something missing from your life. Sometimes it’s just the hand we’re dealt. He comes across as ‘lazy’ because he’s been handed a gilded set of cards — a silver spoon — but isn’t satisfied. Although you’ll see that he doesn’t dismiss gis duties, rather he is frustrated that he cannot use his gilded cards for his country.
Yet if someone who was of lesser status behaved the way Leona does? They’d probably come off as just laid back, or given a bit more sympathy. Their attitude would be excused or less embellished.
Im pacing around this cell, waiting for my paycheck to arrive OUGHHHHHHHHH i need it here sooner. Everytime i read something new you post, i wish to claw it out my screen and eat it. RAAAAAAAH AMAZING WORK, YOUR BRAIN IS SO LOVELY AND WRINKLYY
-🐅
I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use wrinkly as a compliment, but I wasn’t expecting it and it made me chuckle lmao. I hope the fics taste like blue raspberry rock candy and are extra crunchy btwn ur teeth
are there any characters you dont feel comfortable writing in twst?
Uhm…no? For any of the teachers, I won’t write with a reader who is Yuu or a minor if the prompt is romantic. I’d sub. in a reader who’s a professor or in some other circumstance.. Trein is strictly platonic all the time no matter what. Same for Ortho, Grim, etc like self-explanatory stuff really. Side characters, main cast, and RSA are fine w/o restriction…but we still don’t really know anything about the RSA guys so I’m holding off.
I just wanted to put out a big thank you to those of you who have submitted a commission//donation on my ko-fi, supported my journey, and have viewed my works as of late.
Not only has it given me a bit of hope that there are kind people out there, but the commissions have filled my days with little interactions with the people who have been reading my works since this blog was a baby. I cannot quite put into words how those interactions made these past two weeks feel warmer than the ones that preceded them.
Cheers to y'all! To those who have received their work, are waiting for theirs to be completed (I am writing! Ohoho am I writing. The brain juices are flowing), or plan to put one in the future.
Prompt: Burnt Dark Roast (Yumemi X Azul Ashengrotto; OC x Cannon)
Requisitioner: TwinkleCupcake!
Warnings: None!
Words: 3167! (Purchase: Custom Fiction.)
A/N: Hello everyone! We've got another commission to be shared, requested over on my ko-fi! This one comes to you by the sponsor 'TwinkleCupcake!' -- Cupcake put in a request as a follow up to a fic that they wrote on their own, pertaining to lore for their Yuu//OC 'Yumemi'. The story here is an epilogue to Yumemi's choice to remain in wonderland after Headmaster Crowley found a way for her to return home.
If you would like to submit a commission of your own, feel free to check me out HERE!
If you'd like to learn about my medical journey, view my rates, or learn why I'm accepting commissions. Click: HERE!
—
The mirror chamber had never felt so claustrophobic, not even on the first day Yumemi awoke to hundreds of unfamiliar faces.
It was absurd, really, considering the room itself was built to swallow distance and fear of new students alike, all that polished darkness and impossible reflection stretching coldly around Yumemi like a promise she had never asked for. Mirrors watched from every angle. The air felt damp with magic and old decisions. Even standing still seemed to make a sound in there.
She had been on the edge of leaving.
Not figuratively. Not emotionally. Really leaving Wonderland. Forever.
The thought sat in her chest like a stone, heavy and final, and yet not quite final enough. Her fingers had trembled around the choice as if it were something breakable. Twisted Wonderland or Earth. Stay with the people who had slowly become her world, or return to the one she had once belonged to by default and never by heart. Return to a place where everything was familiar and nothing had ever quite fit.
That had been the cruelest part of it.
Home was supposed to mean comfort. Safety. A place where she would be understood without having to explain herself, where she would not have to lower her voice or shrink her shoulders or apologize for existing in a room. But her old world had never managed to give her any of that. It had only taught her how to be quiet. How to endure. How to make herself smaller so she would not become a burden, not become a problem, not become another thing for someone to laugh at, ignore, or wear down.
And Twisted Wonderland, for all its danger and chaos, had given her something she had not expected.
A place where she was known.
Not always with pure intentions. Not always safely. But truly known, truly seen.
So she had stood there in the mirror chamber with tears blurring the world, each breath catching painfully in her throat, and she had tried to force herself toward the choice she thought she was supposed to make. She had thought that wanting to stay made her selfish. Thought that fearing the loneliness of home made her weak. Thought that the easier answer must be the correct one, and that if she were brave enough she would simply step through and not look back.
But when the moment came, bravery had not been what stopped her.
It had been the sight of her friends.
The rough edges of concern. The urgency in their faces. The way they had come for her without hesitation, as if her decision mattered enough to interrupt. There had been hands on her shoulders, voices calling to her, a frantic kind of warmth cutting through the cold dread wrapping around her. Even now, she could not have said who spoke first or what exactly broke her resolve. Only that something in her chest cracked wide open at the realization that she was not being pushed away from one life and toward another. She was being asked to choose the one she could live with.
And that — somehow — made all the difference.
Her one chance of going back was gone now. Whatever miracle hidden in Crowley’s bizarre, half-baked promise had passed with the night. The impossible door shut, and the world beyond it had become something she could no longer reach even if she suddenly regretted everything.
But she did not regret it.
That was the strange, frightening truth of it. She did not regret staying.Yet.
She only did not know what came next.
Choosing had been the hardest thing she had ever done, yes, but now that the choice was made, she found herself staring down a second mountain: the life that followed. A future had to be built from something, after all. A place to live. A way to belong. Rules she did not know. A version of herself that could exist here without always feeling like a guest who overstayed her welcome.
And while her friends smiled for her, hugged her and clung to her and tried to wrap her in certainty, the moment they were gone the fear had settled in again, patient and relentless.
What now?
It had been too much. Too much grief, too much relief, too much change all at once. The tears came fast and hot, then slower, then not at all, until at last exhaustion took over and dragged her under like a tide. She slept with the taste of salt in her mouth and the ache of unfinished sorrow in her bones.
—
She woke to the smell of dark roast.
It drifted through her sleep first, bitter and warm, pulling her upward before her mind had quite caught up. Yumemi blinked once, then again, lashes sticking faintly together from dried tears. For a few disoriented seconds, she did not know where she was. The world was dim and soft around the edges, her thoughts slow and heavy, and the first instinct that rose in her was an old one: home.
But the air was wrong.
The scent was wrong, too rich and polished and unmistakably not her room at Ramshackle.
Her eyes opened wider.
She was on a leather couch. It clung faintly to her cheek where she had been pressed against it in sleep, and the slick chill of it was enough to make her start, just a little. She lifted her head slowly, wincing at the stiffness in her neck, and the room came into focus in pieces: dark wood, neat stacks of papers, the faint gleam of expensive objects arranged with obsessive care. Bubbling filters for the aquariums lining the walls, their inhabitants swimming around with not a care in the world. How she envied them.
The scratch of a pen moving over paper, rhythmic with the pace of a workaholic.
She was in Azul’s office.
Recognition landed all at once, and with it came the memory of the night before — bright, terrible, and too large to hold cleanly all at once. The mirror chamber. The tears. The choice. The awful weight of deciding to stay in Twisted Wonderland, to make a life out of a place that had once been only accidental. The moment the door she might have returned through became inaccessible forever.
She swallowed. Her mouth was dry, her throat rough from crying. Hunger turned in her stomach with an unpleasant ache beneath the sadness, as if her body had decided she would need a reminder of itself even now.
So much happened.
So much has changed.
And she still did not know whether she did the right thing, now that her mind was clear from the pressure and relief of no longer bearing a choice.
That thought settled over her with a sickening familiarity. The same old fear, dressed in a new shape. Not the fear of leaving anymore. The fear of what came after. The fear that one choice had already narrowed the world too much, and that she would spend the rest of her life wondering whether she had chosen courage or simply another form of loss.
She pushed herself up on one elbow, then fully upright, fingers curling into the cushion beneath her as she steadied herself.
That was when Azul’s voice reached her.
“Good morning,” he said, simple and clipped. Her heart skipped not one but three beats as she whipped to face him.
His words were polite in the way his words always were, but there was strain under them today. A faint awkwardness. A tiredness he had not quite managed to fold away. He sat at his desk, posture straight as ever, but not quite as constructed as usual. Even from where she was, Yumemi could tell something was off with him.
His gaze lifted from the papers in front of him.Then the expression on his face adjusted, smoothed into something carefully composed, and she almost wondered whether she had imagined the first glimpse.
Memory returned in fragments. Someone guiding her through the halls the night before when her legs could barely cooperate. Grim tucked close in her arms, his weight both familiar and strangely anchoring. The moment she had finally stopped fighting sleep and let it take her where it wanted. A gloved hand in her hair, gentle enough to be mistaken for an accident if she had not been so aware of it in that half-dreaming state. The scent of Azul’s cologne, rich and clean and faintly sweet, lingering as she had buried her face into his jacket without really meaning to.
She stared at him now, blinking the last of the fog away.
“Oh—” Her voice came out dry and small. She cleared her throat, then lowered her gaze instinctively. “I’m sorry. I troubled you.”
It was automatic. Apology first, always. The old reflex rose before she could think to stop it, born of years spent trying not to inconvenience anyone, trying to exist lightly enough that her presence would not weigh on the room.
Azul’s expression shifted by the barest amount.
“It was no trouble,” he said at once.
There was something almost too quick about the answer, as though he had been waiting for the chance to say it. Then, after a beat, his eyes lowered briefly to the papers in front of him before returning to her.
“No repayment is required on your tab,” he added. “Just this once. For the circumstances.”
Yumemi went still.
Just this once.
The words should have been nothing. A casual reassurance. An easy dismissal meant to put her at ease. But they seemed to land with more force than that, because she heard them as kindness and fear together, though neither was spoken aloud. The message beneath the message: you do not owe me for existing here, for falling apart here, for needing somewhere to rest.
It made her chest ache.
For a moment, she could not think of what to say.
The quiet stretched.
It was strange how loud silence could become once there was enough room for thoughts to spill into it.
Yumemi looked down at her hands, at the faint indentations in her palm from how tightly she had been curling her fingers. The office seemed to press gently around her. Safe, but not in the way of home. Safe in the way a carefully built shelter was safe, held together by someone else’s effort other than her own.
And then the reality of it all struck her all over again, hard enough to make her breath catch.
She had stayed.
There would be no going back now, not really. Whatever miraculous, ridiculous window Crowley had managed to force open was gone. Her old life existed on the other side of a door she could no longer touch. No apartment. No familiar streets. No future she had spent years assuming would simply happen because it had to. Everything beyond this room had become undefined.
Twisted Wonderland was permanent now.
And she had no plans.
Not real ones. Not enough ones. No roadmap, no safety net, no place to begin. She had made the biggest decision of her life and somehow, impossibly, that was not the end of it. It was the beginning, and beginnings were terrifying in a way endings never quite managed to be.
Her stomach twisted harder.
She suddenly felt very small.
She was aware, all at once, of how tired she was. How hungry. How raw still from the night before. How much she wanted to curl back into the couch and vanish from the responsibility of the decision she had made.
A soft sound broke through the spiral.
Azul had moved.
One moment he had been behind his desk, and the next he was seated on the edge of the coffee table in front of her, close enough that she could see the fine shadows beneath his eyes and the faint tension drawn through his mouth. He looked, in a way that was almost startling, troubled. Not performatively so. Not for advantage. Just…troubled.
Up close, the exhaustion was more obvious. The darkness beneath his eyes had not been hidden well enough to vanish entirely, though it was muted enough she suspected he had taken steps to conceal it. Concealer, maybe. Powder. Some subtle act of self-control, because Azul Ashengrotto did not let weakness show if he could help it. And yet there it was, in the slight stiffness of his shoulders, in the way he seemed to have to choose his next breath before taking it.
Had he slept at all?
Had he been with her all night?
Where was Grim? Was he all right? Had something gone wrong because she broke down and made everyone worry? Had she chosen wrong after all, not in the sense of staying, but in the sense of making things harder for everyone who had tried to hold her together?
Her pulse ticked faster.
Azul seemed to notice the change in her before she had fully named it. His gaze sharpened — not coldly, not anymore, but with that same uncanny ability he had to read a room as if it were written in a language only he understood. Then, with a slow movement that felt deliberate rather than impulsive, he removed his fedora and set it on the coffee table.
The gesture was so plain, so unlike him, that it made her breathe in sharply.
He reached for her hand.
Yumemi’s fingers twitched once before settling in his. His glove was cool against her skin. Carefully warm, somehow, as if the contact had been waiting for permission.
Then he spoke.
“I owe you an apology, Yumemi.”
Her head snapped up. Her name. Not Prefect. Yumemi.
His thumb moved once, lightly, over the back of her hand.
“I knew you were suffering,” he said, and the admission seemed to cost him something. “I knew your insistence that you would return to Earth was not…entirely genuine. And I ignored it.”
His voice was flat and controlled on the surface, yes, but underneath that, there was strain. A sincerity he did not seem entirely comfortable wearing.
“I ignored it because I lacked the courage to speak out.”
Azul’s expression did not change much, but she could feel the effort behind every word, the unusual care in the way he was building them one at a time. “Even with your leaving on the line,” he continued, “I was too much of a coward to ask you to stay when I had no certainty of how you felt.The margin of error was too wide a chasm…and I could not bring myself to risk it.”
Coward.
The word sounded wrong coming from him.
To hear him name it so plainly, to hear him place himself in the wrong without disguise, made something in her chest turn over painfully.
He drew in a careful breath.
“But no more.” His brows pinch, pained.
“From this point forward,” Azul promised, his hold tightening, “I will listen.”
He looked at her then, fully, with a sort of intensity that did not feel like the usual calculation she associated with him. This was not the look of someone bargaining. Not even the look of someone making a promise in hopes of being believed. It was the look of someone deciding, at last, to be honest in the most difficult way possible.
“There is much to do,” he continued, and now his voice had steadied a little, the practical side of him returning as though to give structure to what he was saying. “Citizen documentation. Housing arrangements. Any formalities necessary to ensure your transition here is smooth. I will assist you with all of it.”
Yumemi blinked.
He was speaking so plainly, so matter-of-factly, about things she had not even been able to begin thinking through. Documents. Housing. Transitions. A life. Actual, concrete things. Her mind had been trapped in the emotional violence of the choice itself, and he was already reaching ahead, already building the shape of a tomorrow she had not known how to imagine.
“I do not want you to think twice about staying,” he said quietly. “Not because of the practical burden. Not because of uncertainty. Not because of me.”
There, finally, was something like vulnerability in his face, though he seemed determined not to let it show fully. “I will help you because I want to help you. Because I want you here. Because I…”
He faltered.
The pause was brief, but it mattered. Yumemi could see the effort it took him to continue, the visible strain of someone who knew exactly how to speak in contracts and deals and advantages, but not in this. Not in the language of feelings so large they made him sound unsteady.
She did not interrupt. Could not. She was afraid if she did, whatever was happening in this moment would evaporate.
Azul looked down at their joined hands for a heartbeat, as though collecting himself. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.
“The relief I felt last night was unparalleled.”
Yumemi’s breath caught.
He kept going, eyes lifting to hers again. “And yet I am not ignorant of the fact that it was likely the hardest decision of your life. Perhaps it is terribly selfish of me to admit such a thing.”
The honesty of it made her eyes sting. Yes, it was. Yet she couldn’t be happier for it.
Azul’s expression tightened in something almost like self-reproach, though gentler now. “Though I have always been a selfish man,” he pressed. “But I am also a man of my word.”
That startled the faintest sound from her, a breath that was almost a laugh and almost a sob. He watched her carefully, as if measuring whether the words were landing as he intended.
“Thank you,” he breathed the words straight from his chest, to her ears. “ For choosing me. For choosing what we have. I do not intend to let that trust go. You will not regret this. I swear it.”
The twisting fear in her had gone utterly quiet.
No one had ever promised such a thing, let alone swore it. The way he had looked at her as though her decision mattered not as a convenience but as a gift, a privilege, a responsibility he intended to treat with care. It all pressed into her at once, too much and yet not nearly enough.
Because beneath all of it was the thing he had not said, the thing she could feel anyway.
Azul had been afraid too.
“From here on,” Azul said, voice low and certain, “every choice will be yours to make. I will make certain that you are happy here.”
With that, he waited. Until Yumemi finally let herself squeeze his hand back. She didn’t need words or to force herself anymore. The look in his eye – that glint she knew so well – meant he understood, and she wasn’t afraid anymore.
