My name is Echo and I am a female writer who favors the fictional side of romantic encounters. While I have written several stories over the years, I have never shared them. Yet.
Feel free to say hi, I don't bite.
Questions for Me?
Favorite Twisted Wonderland Characters?
For now, this blog is my place to gather intel, organize my thoughts, simp for some fictional men and offers me a space to enjoy fellow writers and character analysis's who inspire me to pick up my pen and put it to paper.
My stories are inspired from different cultures to flesh out my fantasy worlds and I do my best to be respectful of each, though I do take liberties of creating my own spin.
My writings tend to delve into emotional responses and flesh out the thoughts of my muses and OC.
Currently, I have several novels I am man-handling into submission:
The American (working title) (O!Ciel x OC)
- A loosely inspired Black Butler (Kuroshitshju) piece that centers around a victorian England earl and an American "dollar princess" clashing. A class difference romance with pride and ego as the befallen catalyst. Not to mention murder....
- A Twisted Wonderland (TW) inspired piece that centers around the Sunset Savannah and it's second prince playing a dangerous game of hate with his new wife. Political romance mixed with an arranged marriage and enemies to lovers. Did I mention a prophecy is on the horizon...
War Eyes (Jamil x OC)
- A Twisted Wonderland (TW) inspired piece that centers around the Scalding Sands and a certain silver-tongued advisor that meets a new addition to the Sultan's gilded cage of women. Forbidden romance mixed with exploration of the harem. Will our lovers survive the Sultan's wrath?
Hanaki (Vil x OC)
- A Twisted Wonderland (TW) inspired piece that centers around the game of fame for a certain beauty mongul, actor and singer. Through the eyes of two points of view: one of fame, the other of suffering in silence this tale will be weaved. What would one do to change the past? What if one doesn't know their sin? Will time run out?
A Star Above, A Wildflower Below (Ruggie x OC)
- A Twisted Wonderland (TW) inspired piece that lives off of scraps and survival. How does one stay out of danger? What is found family? More soft than my other books and less high stakes. Think cozy angst if such a blend can exist with romance entwined.
Not Novels
The Mafia AU brought to you by @twistedmafiaau
- A series of interactions through questions that our blogger reporter (pen name Mort) has to survive. Who knows what will come of her in this dangerous game. A Twisted Wonderland inspired AU with Mort's focus on the Kingscholar Family...and maybe a few freckled stars that trip her up along the way.
So stay tuned for what the future may hold, or just lurk on my blog and explore my interests with me.
*I do not address religion or political questions, this is a writing blog for writing. So let's read and write together ☺️
i think people get so used to their own creative work that they forget how amazing it is so i’m making this post as a reminder You are the only person capable of making art the exact way you make it. nobody else on earth can do that. there are always going to be those little habits and intricacies and details that simply cannot be replicated whether it’s in writing or painting or textiles and you make life all the better for it i love my friends’ art i love art from strangers im trying to love my own art I LOVE YOU!!! THE PERSON READING THIS!!!!!!! YOU ARE A PART OF THIS WORLD NEVER EVER STOP MAKING THINGS THAT CAN IMPACT IT
BECAUSE LOVE CAN BURN LIKE A CIGARETTE ft. heartslabyul & savanaclaw
pikachu, quick, summarize their relationship in a few words ; alternatively, relationship tropes and dynamics with twst characters | content tags & warnings: established relationship, fluff, headcanons, use of tropes, probably ooc (i only got to book 3), reader is not yuu, self-indulgent, not proofread | wc: 5.6k (600+ words per character)
DIRECTOR'S NOTES — sorry if there are inaccuracy ! i just started the game and i have only known them for a week… (game keeps on stopping me from progressing the story bcs of my low rank AUGHGHUGHGH). so these are kind of just surface-level hcs based on my little understanding of them and the scraps i’ve been fed with hahahahhaaha anyways enjoy :))
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
academic weapon x academic disaster
Ah, the classic trope, but how fitting it is. They say you and him complete each other in ways more than one. You fill the empty spaces that he is missing—mischief, disorder, and rule-breaking—while he completes you in yours—discipline, virtue, and responsibility. Riddle would never find what is lacking in his life and would never admit to this wanting until you came and wrecked his world. Still, he welcomes the catastrophe of your whole being if it means being yours at the same.
It’s safe to say that the way he does relationships is still bound into his rather monochrome belief of following the rules. That’s why when the two of you just started dating, he seemed rather stiff and awkward. Was he doing this right? Was this wrong? What is he supposed to do? Can he hold your hand?
Ah, if only there was a rulebook on romance.
Riddle has everything about you memorized—from the top of your head and to the bottom of your feet. He knows what kind of tea you like or not like, he knows your favorite spots in the academia when you decide to skip class, he knows what subjects you are weak and what study methods work best for you (which is to not study at all, but of course, he wouldn’t have that). He remembers everything that there is to remember about you and sometimes, it makes you feel bad that he puts this much efforts for you while it feels like you’re just there.
“If you truly do feel bad, how about you put in more effort into your education? Here, I have constructed a detailed—” ; “Ah, stop, stop!”
You try too, even if it looks like it doesn’t go on a same level as his. After all, people have different ways of showing their affection towards another and Riddle understands that very well. Where he is attentive to your needs and wants, you make sure to do the same—looking after him, ensuring that he doesn’t overwork himself to the bone, rewarding him with strawberry tarts, pulling him into breaks when you’ve noticed that he’s been studying too much, accompanying him as he does his own thing, and catching troublemakers for him.
He wasn’t particularly the clingy and affectionate type of person, but he appreciates your constant presence. Riddle, really, there is no need for some kind of reasoning just to justify someone staying by your side. You just love him, that’s all, and that’s enough reason to be.
He falls asleep easily around you, too, oftentimes with his head on your shoulder. That’s how much he feels relaxed around you.
Your primary love language is quality time and words of affirmation, particularly on Riddle’s. He’s got that incredible ability of drilling words into your head out of his worry for you and though from another’s perspective, it’s just another mile-long harsh scolding, you know that’s not the case. There are too many occasions wherein you are just beaming a grin at him while he nags you and then he falters in his tone, sighing, as a pretty shade of a blush dusts his cheeks. He just gets flustered easily.
Sure, you can tease him, sure, you can poke fun at him, and sure, you can also shower him with affection, sure, you can bother him anytime you want, and sure, you can play around with his rules. You’ve found that Riddle lets you get away with the things you’re doing, especially when it’s directed to him. Was he perhaps being slanted? Maybe. He likes to say that it’s because he’s going easy on everyone, when in fact, it’s just you.
You do have to be scared for your life when exam results come out, however. Riddle may not force you into the same routine and workload that he does, but he makes sure to be strict enough that you won’t slack off your studies—just enough to get you to that passing mark. You can fool around later when the exams are over, but for now? You have to listen to him.
It’s the truth and only the truth when one would say that the couple of you and Riddle is the most loved and cherished in the Heartslabyul Dorm, or even the whole Night Raven College.
ACE TRAPPOLA
ragebaiter x ragebaited
Ace Trappola had too much cards to play when it comes to annoying the hell out of you.
It’s as if he’s an expert of it as if the very moment he was taken out the womb of his mother, he was already equipped with the right skills and the knowledge it takes to hit your nerve with full accuracy of the world’s best sniper. He’s got the body of a teenage boy and the immature mentality of one too.
It’s amazing how you even managed to deal with him for so long that people always assume that you are simply so benevolent and kind, or maybe you’re dense as stone. They’re wrong. Patience is a trait that has been cultivated within you, not something you were born with. Even if you were born with it, it’s never going to be enough. You must embark on the path of cultivation to reach the highest peaks of forbearance.
Ah, you just can’t begin with the type of stuff your boyfriend does when you’re already overstimulated or irritated.
But Ace knows the limit of his teasing, the line that you put that indicates your boundaries and uses it as a jumping rope. No, just kidding. Despite his immaturity, he still knows when to stop and makes sure to give you something that will make you smile after whatever antics he have pulled.
An apology, wooing you as you sulked and ignored him, then suddenly, he pulls out something that he knows you’ve been craving or wanting to get. Ask him of where he got it and he would never say it; after all, magicians never reveal their secrets.
Beyond that, Ace is surprisingly a good lover. Listen, he’s ashamed of his past and how avoidant he can actually be, and how stupid he is when it comes to relationships, but he’s working on it, okay? He’s ashamed of his past and he only wants the best for you and the best is obviously him.
He remembers all off the important dates—birthday, anniversaries, monthsaries—, and though he doesn’t fuss over it, he ensures that it will still be something special and remarkable. Although he does get shy when you point out his efforts like the bouquet he had meticulously prepared for the day or the dinner date he has planned. He takes incredible care of you and makes sure that you’re in no harm even if he does gets into fights often, making an enemy out of a few people. If people dare to use you as his weakness, just know that they’re never seeing the light of the day.
He knows you can take care of yourself. Bonus points if you’re an independent, do-it-on-your-own type of person, who doesn’t trust others easily. He’s the type of person who would swat your hand away if you try to take more workload and would drag you out of your seat when you’ve been paying too much attention on your books and not him. He’s so… clingy. Physical affection is definitely on the top of his love language—he’s always holding your hand, always putting his arm around you, always peppering you with kisses, always ruffling your hair, and anyone who dares say anything is just envious about what you both have. Bleh.
He’ll always stick to your side, especially during breaks; he would sigh and mumble to himself how he wants to see you already when you have separate classes; he would always look for you while it’s obvious that you wouldn’t be there in that place, then would complain on why you aren’t here. It all boils down to this statement: everyone who knows Ace knows you.
But hey, you signed up for this. You chose him, no backing out now.
DEUCE SPADE
former delinquent turned over a new leaf x honor student
Before the two of you got together, Deuce would constantly pester you about questions, would constantly try to sit beside you during class, would constantly ask you to help him with his studies, begging and even bribing you. After all, you were an honor student, ranking among those at the top of their studies, and he was classmates with you. He was going to take advantage of that to make his mama proud but also, hello, he wants your attention. It’s just as simple as that.
Pestering, because that’s the only way he knows how to get yours without seeming like he’s wasting your time. Asking, because you’re on a different league and he was right there at the bottom with scraps, and this was the only way he knows to get close to you. Attention, because he likes you a lot but doesn’t know how to show it properly without looking like a wuss. There are nights he would stay awake and recount his memories with you earlier that day, worrying that what if he was acting like a bully? What if he was scary and not polite? What if he was showing his delinquent side? What if you were just scared of him that’s why you comply so easily? Everything was just amplified in his mind and it wasn’t helping him at all.
You only got him to confess when you confronted him and told him about how he should take ‘responsibility’ for making you fall for him. It was a jest, really. He took that way too seriously, however, and you’re unsure if it’s a good thing or not.
He goes above and beyond, always exceeding your expectations. He even has it all listed in the notes app of his phone: the things you like and dislike, your favorite food, your favorite color, everything that he would learn about you.
“Deuce, you know I was only joking when I told you to take responsibility.” ; “Are you asking to break up?” He would reply, immediate tears to his eyes, and you can only sigh and reassure him it’s not that.
Deuce tries to be very very careful in not showing his delinquent side of him. We’ve all seen him revert back to that attitude when the situation calls for it, but around you, he desperately hides it, worried that you’ll hate him. He’s a massive overthinker and sometimes, a paranoid, and sometimes, exaggerates things to a new level that you never thought was possible.
However, such fragile secrets are not meant to last, seeping through the cracks until the vase eventually breaks. By misfortune, you just walked in right when he was giving someone the talk along with Ace Trapolla who seems to be his buddy when it comes to making trouble. The fear on his face is immediate and palpable, rushing to you and desperately explaining himself in a rush that his words mingle together and you’re not understanding anything.
He only stopped his rambling when you laughed, a sweet sound he always love to hear and all his panic is replaced with confusion.
“Deuce, what are you saying? I’ve known the whole time.” ; “What?” ; “Yeah.” ; “And you still like me?” He just couldn’t believe it. He’s done terrible things in the past and might have hurt people in the process, how could you like him while still being aware of these things?
“How could I not?” It was so simple, but so devastating at the same time. Relief washed over him, except it’s in the form of a tsunami and he’s being swept away by the depths off your affection. Church bells are already ringing inside his head and he has already talked about you to his mother who is also equally excited as him.
Oh, but you don’t appreciate him hiding things from you, so from then on, he’ll tell you every single thing about himself, and again, you don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.
CATER DIAMOND
influencer / popular guy on magicam x chronically online
Nobody’s getting a proper conversation out of you both. It’s an endless stream of internet slang, pop culture references, and magicam terms in which the both of you giggle with together.
Everything that he knows about others, he tells you. He’s basically a gossip-magnet and you’re there as his collateral, so if someone is unsuccessful with getting information from him, then they will always come to you next. Cater, however, already knows their next move, so when these people would find you, they would also see your beautiful boyfriend lingering behind you with a smile on his face.
You have lots of inside jokes with him and it’s only the two of you who will understand it. Ace and Deuce would often witness you and him dying of laughter just saying out words that doesn’t even make sense. It’s like you entertain each other on a daily and everyone around you are just your viewers—this becomes so obvious whenever he goes on live on his account and you’re also there with him.
“User xX_CrowleyHater_Xx says, ‘you guys are so cute together, you definitely should get married. You guys have a bright future together, I can’t wait to see more of you! Sending loves, hugs, and peace!’ Aww, that is so cute. Thank you for your kind words.” The actual comment is: It’s you two again, ugh.
Though you did once mention the lovely housewarden of Heartslabyul and doing a challenge where you do something and see if it breaks a rule (foolish, I know), and the next day, you’re in trouble with him. Whether you’re from another dorm or is in the same one as him, you also got the taste of Riddle’s signature spell. Never again.
Everyone may think that they know there is to know about you and him, when in truth, all they are aware of is the extent of adoration you have for each other. Cater have long mastered how to reveal everything and nothing at the same time. Also, he doesn't like it when it warrants unwanted attention on you. It makes him #jealous (one time, someone left a creepy comment and he had it reported, and the user blocked).
Cater documents everything, but his favorite collection isn't on Magicam. He takes lots of photos of you; candid shots, sleeping, eating, and anything. His lockscreen wallpaper even cycles on a daily, reasoning that he likes the surprise of seeing a different one each day. You know about this because you caught him once, and instead of being embarrassed, he just shrugged, "What? You're my favorite content." But you also know why he keeps them and doesn’t demand further explanation. So you've started your own archive too—screenshots of his ridiculous texts, voice memos of his laugh, photos of him when he doesn't know you're watching. Occasionally, you'll send him one of those saved moments with no context, simply saying: "I was thinking of you."
Beyond that, you're aware of Cater's struggles even if he never sat you down and gave you some tearful confession. You just pay attention. You notice the way his smile tightens just a fraction when someone says something that hits too close to home, the way his eyes flicker to the exit during group hangouts, the way he spams stories in an hour when he's feeling particularly lonely because the notifications are a temporary bandage.
You never push, never pry, never force him to be vulnerable. Instead, you learn his language: the shorthand of half-finished texts, the emojis that mean different things depending on the time of day, the specific way he says "lol", and you meet him there. You try to cheer him up, distract him; you send him a video of you trying to cook something disastrously, or you show up at his door with snacks and zero expectations, or you simply sit beside him in comfortable silence, knowing that sometimes he just needs someone to witness him without demanding he perform.
You've become his safe harbor, the one person who doesn't need him to be entertaining, who doesn't need a photo op or a clever caption, who loves the quiet, unfiltered version of Cater Diamond that exists in the spaces of his quietude, and he’s grateful to have you by his side.
TREY CLOVER
childhood friends to lovers + you can’t cook
Ever since you were kids, you’ve always stuck together with Trey. Not just because you guys were neighbors or that your parents were friends with each other or that the two of you were playmates, but also because he would look after you on days that you have no one. He was there when your parents couldn’t take care of you while you were sick, he was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, and he was there when it felt like you had no one in the world but him.
Naturally, the two of you would grow close, closer than everyone else, and of course, such feelings would bloom. From the very start, the two of you are meant to be together—the stars worked hand-in-hand for this fated meeting, or what you would like to say. After all, there had been too many coincidences: the way your families just happened to live next door, the way you both ended up at Night Raven College despite coming from completely different backgrounds, the way he always seemed to have exactly what you needed before you even knew you needed it. It's like the universe kept nudging you two together, weaving your paths so intricately that separating them now would be impossible.
You love telling the story of how the both of you got together. It was the classic date that you thought was too friendly until he brought out the flowers then took you to this secluded spot where the scenery stole your breath alone. Fireflies gently lit up the dim place, highlighting the softness of his features, as he told you of his long-time yearning and affection that transcended the bounds of friendship alone. You were the first one he had ever liked and you will be the only one, a puppy love that was never puppy love at all.
And then, he brought out a cake for the two of you to eat together—your favorite flavor—and you made the mistake of asking him how he knew you were going to say yes.
"You weren’t exactly hiding it.” Cheeky bastard. He was also obvious, you know, he was just waiting for the right chance to bite.
On the matter of your relationship, it feels as if nothing have changed between the two of you. It’s always been the same; you-and-him, you-and-him, you-and-him. The constant you and Trey, childhood friends, schoolmates, and lovers. He just became more attentive towards you and his reasons for always seeking you have become more valid now that you’re also his significant other—back then, it was hard to hide behind the excuses when the two of you were just merely labeled as ‘childhood friends’. After all, what reason can he come up with wanting to see you every minute without him sounding like some dependent, inseparable leech?
Anyways, there’s also the thing of you and him in the kitchen. No, not a rumor or some gossip, but how he’s versed in cooking and baking, and you’re not.
“Trey, you know I can’t cook.” You would say, your tone dejected. If you had ears, they would obviously be drooping low. Trey, however, only laughs softly as he holds your hand in his. “I know, it’s not as if we didn’t grew up together and I wasn’t a witness of your culinary mishaps.” That was true.
“But you won’t make fun of me?” And he would answer: “Why should I? In fact, I’m relieved. I have more reasons to take care of you.”
While everyone tries to keep you out of kitchen in fear of a disaster waiting to happen, Trey would actually encourage you and even teach you. He would even eat whatever you make no matter how suspicious and weird it looks, noting of how it still tastes good because you made it with your whole heart. Cheesy, you would remark as you roll your eyes but you appreciate it, truly. That was the difference between him and the others—he was never one to deny you or stop you from doing what you want.
That’s the best way to summarize your relationship: you were each other’s pillar of support. And you aren’t aware of it, but you’ve also become his guiding light, a warm presence, and a gentle hand to hold.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
opposites attract, except he’s scared of you
Leona is arrogant and rough, whereas, you’re known as the kindest and sweetest person ever to be paired with the arrogant man. It’s a wonder to everybody why and how the both of you even got together; theories would even come up consisting of how maybe he had threatened you, maybe this was a fake relationship or a bet, or maybe this was the old arranged marriage trope, or whatever ridiculous claim they could come up. After all, one should never underestimate how creative the minds the NRC students are.
Some may even feel pity; why him? I wonder how much [Name] has to go through just to please him. It must be rough having the Leona Kingscholar as your partner. I’m sure he’ll get bored of them quickly.
However, such comments would be shut down quickly as soon as Leona heard of it, ensuring that it doesn't reach your ears.
What they don’t see or even see but refuse to believe is how sweet Leona actually is. He cares for you truly despite how sharp his tongue can be—concerned masked in the only language he knows to speak—, he adores you through his actions and gifts, and he cherishes you even if he doesn’t admit such feelings. He’ll try to be gentle but such gentleness will only met with your reassurance that he doesn’t have to change himself just to make you happy.
After all, you know he loves you and he appreciates that. Still, he tries, not because he has something to prove but because he believes that you deserve the whole world, so he’ll make it roll underneath your feet and give you everything you will ever want and more. He may not be able to give you the glory of a queen, but you will find such titles useless when it comes to his affections.
He’s incredibly possessive and can be bitter at times though, that I can say.
Though most of all, what they definitely don’t see is how Leona is, in fact, scared of you. Not scared scared but a respectful kind of scared and the type of scared that only comes when one doesn’t know what else you are capable of. Only Ruggie is aware of this fact and would use it to his advantage—he would always call for you like you are some kind of superhero back-up when Leona is skipping class, doesn’t want to get up his bed, or when he’s just being unpleasant (and by unpleasant, he means when he’s being treated as his personal maid too much).
“You see, if you keep on acting like this, I’m going to call [Name].” Ruggie would remark casually and it appears he is jolted awake. The hyena would only laugh at himself, blatantly using your name as a shield to make things easier for him and to even get back to his housewarden.
“Leona.” A simple call of his name and he behaves, clicking his tongue and glaring not at you, but to everyone else in the room. He can never get mad at you, never.
There’s just a certain kind of fear that comes when the love of your life is the kindest person you will ever meet, who wouldn't hurt a fly, and is also the calmest person. Yes, he wouldn’t dare mess with you and incur your wrath.
It's not that he's weak—he'd tear apart anyone who threatened you without a second thought. It's that you're the one person whose good opinion he actually needs, and the idea of being the reason your light dims even a little? That's the one battle Leona Kingscholar refuses to lose. Thus he pretends to roll his eyes at your nagging, pretends your concern is annoying, but everyone in Savanaclaw knows: if you're upset with him, the King of Beasts becomes a very, very well-behaved lion.
Remember the theories? Yeah, the most popular and believable one is that you actually were the one doing the threatening.
JACK HOWL
savanaclaw bf x pomefiore significant other
A cute edition of Beauty and the Beast.
Just imagine an all-smiley person walking down the hallway and then imagine a menacing shadow of a man lurking behind them. Yep, that’s you and him—if you weren't already intimidating, then you definitely will be with him right beside you.
He’s rather overbearing and protective. He may not get jealous easily, but he sure as hell does get worried for you easily, and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t like it. Jack pampers you a lot and spoils you, not in gifts but through his actions. He’s big on acts of service, taking away the burden that lies on your shoulders, so that your today is better than yesterday. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to lift a finger or to take on an easy path by making others do it—that goes against his principles of self-betterment—it’s just that he believes the weight you carry is his to help bear.
He doesn’t believe that you’re incapable, in fact, he respects you so much of your capabilities. He just sees your struggles as real and valid. He won't fight your battles for you—that would rob you of growth—but he'll stand right beside you, offering his strength, his patience, and his steady presence to make the climb less steep. To Jack, love wasn’t to give you an easy path; it's about walking the hard one with you, step by step, until you're both stronger for it.
Your peace matters to him just as much as his own integrity and principle does. Whenever you’re stressed out, he’s also stressed out; when you’re happy, he’s also happy; when you’re sad, well, he doesn’t know what to do. He may stumble and fail, but that doesn’t mean he’ll leave you at that state. He’ll bring you somewhere that he thinks will take your mind off such heavy things, he’ll treat you to something sweet, heck, he’ll do anything.
He’s incredibly patient towards you and would give in to your whims, even if he is reluctant at first. Just this once, he would say. He’d rather you do it with him rather than with anyone else—despite the fact that it’s just you wanting to try on your new make-up and skincare products that you got. He’s your willing model and audience to your fashion shows, swooning at the sight of you even if you’re just wearing rags and trash bags. He’s incredibly supportive and offers honest opinions, which helps you a lot, especially when you’re indecisive. He doesn’t mind if what you’re wearing can be a little short or revealing, he can fight, so don’t worry about it.
You can easily tell Jack’s feelings and emotions just from the drooping of his ears and the movement of his tail. It’s endearing, really, how tough he may appear on the surface but how easy it is to read him once you start noticing the small details. He’s nonchalant, they say, he’s tough, they say, he’s stoic, they say. Well, not to you and that is a privilege you would love to show off to others.
Oh, but if anyone dares to mess with him, just know that they’re also messing with you.
As what was written, it’s a cute edition of Beauty and the Beast, except each role applies to the both of you. You’re the beast to his beauty, just as you’re the beauty to his beast—people just fail to realize that and think that you’re all sunshine and rainbows. They always overlook the things on the inside just because the outside is pleasant and fragile—it’s always in the tension of the in-between, the differences of what one sees and what is truly felt. They don’t see the beauty of the inside of your heart, simply because the outside is enough and it irritates you how much they downplay your entire existence into a single word. Beauty, beauty, beauty.
Heels can hurt too, you know.
RUGGIE BUCCHI
partners in crime
If they think Ruggie is already a headache, just wait until you come into the picture, because now it’s a full blown migraine.
It’s a 2 for 1 deal, a buy-1-take-2, a package one should never want to have no matter how tempting. They say two brains work better than one, but the thing about you both is that your brains are so similar to each other it just counts as one. If you were a goody two-shoes from the start of your relationship, you’ll slowly start to sound like him or act like him, and it scares everyone. It doesn’t even matter if you came from a wealthy background, you’ll learn of his ways soon enough.
Wherever he is, you are also there, and vice versa. It’s as if seeing either you or him on your own is an odd sight (even if you’re from different dorms). Where’s [Name]? Where’s Ruggie? Nobody ever asks how is [Name]? Or how is Ruggie? Sad face, sad face.
He nabs something from the pocket of an unsuspecting student and he shows it you with a look of pride. Be it snacks, trinkets, or even secrets, the two of you share it with each other. He’ll even teach you how to be quick with your hands and it’s up to you if you are to follow his example or not. Nothing and I say nothing will ever get through the sheer trust you held for one another.
By extension, too, you also get dragged into Leona’s bread request during bakery day, battling with the others to get that deluxe grilled cheese and returning to him with messed-up uniforms and a tired look on your faces. Ruggie will fix your hair and you’ll fix the wrinkle on his clothes, and Leona is just there, watching with disgust.
Your favorite pastime activity involves being haters towards stuck-up and out-of-touch rich kids. Yeah, gossip, gossip, gossip. The two of you have become infamous for it; they say if one sees you and Ruggie together, whispering to each other and snickering, chances are, you already are talking about someone in the room.
It’s not obvious to anyone else that the two of you are dating. Maybe it’s because you aren’t openly affectionate to each other like other couples are; it’s always been something that you show behind closed doors. However, it’s also not really a wow factor when you would declare the actual nature of your relationship—it makes sense, they just never thought of it. It’s common to get an, “oh, okay,” than a “wow, I never knew!” reaction.
Ruggie, as obvious as it is, is not really one for gift giving and even gift receiving. I don’t think he’s fond to receiving expensive stuff, too, because it would just show the disparity the two of you might have and would also put some pressure on him to give something of the same value back. Sure, he appreciates it, but really, he wouldn’t know what to do with it.
By that same reason, he has his own way of showing that he cares, as shrewd and self-serving he can be. You have to drop those textbook expectations of romance and see that those are not the only ways because Ruggie's love language is not written in the center of grand gestures.
He'll slip an extra portion of his hard-won cafeteria haul onto your tray, muttering something about how you "look like you haven't eaten properly in days.” He'll remember the exact snack you mentioned liking once, months ago, and suddenly it appears in your hands. He'll teach you his tricks with the reason that he never wants you to feel as helpless as he once did—if the world ever turns its back on you, he needs to know you can fend for yourself too. When you're having a rough day, he won't offer empty platitudes; instead, he'll drag you to some overlooked corner of campus, share whatever meager treat he's scrounged up, and sit with you. Although he'll complain loudly about having to share his spoils, the complaint itself is the cover for the care he's too guarded to say outright.
When you catch him in those small moments—when he thinks you're asleep and he gently adjusts the blanket over you, or when he absentmindedly saves the last bite of something for you—you realize that Ruggie Bucchi doesn't love in diamonds and declarations. He loves in the quiet assurance that you'll never be alone, never be left behind, and that, more than any expensive gift, is worth everything.
Last winter, after reading Leona's dream, I wanted Baymax to play the therapist for him cause his line broke my heart... I drew other stuff but didn't finish them back them.
Now that Baymax event is coming, it was the opportunity to finish them :3.
(Working on Leona's birthday, so I'm gonna answer you guys next month :x)
➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.
➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”
➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”
➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”
➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”
➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.
“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.
“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”
➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”
➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”
However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!
➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.
If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)
➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“
“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.
➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.
➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”
➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.
“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”
➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.
“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”
Soft tagging @blockcat-safari, @jackdraw-spwrite, @cityofangeisislying, @audioeidolon, @venusplantt, @bardicc-inspo and @voidindite in case they would like to play along :)
(Feel free to jump in if this looks fun and I forgot to tag you!)
This Mafia AU isn't mine, it belongs to @twistedmafiaau aka Boss who is indulging my brain worms and feeding them with content while I also give them words to giggle and kick their feet over.
This piece is in collaboration with the Summer Ballroom Chatters Boss is hosting. This is piece 1 of 2 and does fall in universe with our current timeline. The effort I put into this and the brain power, my first time ever writing for a Twisted Wonderland guy, be gentle with me. Mort and Hitman are next on my list, pray to the writing gods cause Ruggie isn't as easy as Jade for me to dissect. I'm like Mort, I just can't read him quite right 😂 -Echo
Want more of Daphne and Amaris? -> Here
Warnings: Daphne's mental mouth, Daphne's dirty thoughts (It's Jade are we surprised she has them at this point? I kept it as vague as possible, she is not easy to reel in), cancer mentions and all the trauma and issues that go with that, body image issues due to cancer, triggering talk of assaults and harassments, Mort's files opened and made public by guess who so warning for their contents. I'm sure I missed something…
Fancy Clothes & Fancy Cars
“Did you hear about The Tacts’s board of directors and sponsors?”
“Yes, that's so sickening. To think so many had their hands in such filth. Associating with the Desmond Family's deep pockets and a public walkout with the police, in cuffs. It was all over the sister news stations. It seems that there is really no loyalty in that business. It's all a cash grab like Mort says. Loyalty is dead.”
“The Tact will probably shut down along with all of its sister branches. Mort will be out of a job, but knowing her, she probably knew. Did you see her photo standing with the board from the auction night back in March? She was stunning, and that necklace… I'm swooning. Just one chance, that's all I need with her. I can show her women are superior to men."
"I can't believe they dared to even look at her like that in the photograph. The audacity to touch her even! She's clearly uncomfortable with the tight smile. See?”
“You're right, it seems Mort does know a thing or two about surviving. Did you hear that someone released the precinct's files from her childhood and found her in The Justice Papers?”
“No, what's in them?”
“Everything. She was a victim and apparently, her uncle pimped her out across the world for some reason as a teen. Even had his way with her until she was eighteen according to the police report where she talked about it back then, but the court cases were seen to not have enough evidence. All of it was thrown. And now the papers, the latest, she was being trafficked until last year still, in that system the Desmond's used. There are countless mentions of her under a three-letter code someone at the precinct figured out. Officer Bellamy I believe, he released the information for study but someone hacked the system and made it public."
"Oh my ...."
"I know. It's disgusting. There are photographs and recordings too. Look at this list a reporter put together. No one is safe from the world's lens, not even Mort."
"Ew, put that away. I feel sorry for her, I pity her. I can't imagine how terrified she must be all the time. Being left to the wolves like that and then getting away. She did get away right?"
"Well obviously, she's here and thriving. She must really be magic in the sheets. I wish she'd give us all pointers instead of playing innocent like she's dense in bedroom play.”
“Well she is a victim, and I don't believe she is playing innocent. She's shown enough times that she's perfectly capable in her blog to get intimate. Maybe the act of intimacy itself is hard for her? She has hinted at several instances where she could have taken things there, but didn't. After all— for all intensive purposes— being a high-end courtesan to the elite had to be triggering. Can't imagine what they paid her uncle for, to do to her themselves.”
“Honey, have you read her blog? This woman has endured more than most women can and stayed sane through it. With Dahlia tailing her, the horrors he's done to her, and other odd things no doubt we know nothing about from this past year, she's a survivor trying to escape from some very big fish. This is probably nothing to her.”
“Thank the Sevens for The Justice Papers then coming out and giving her case validity after all these years, even if her information was leaked.”
“Yeah, in more ways than one. Mort's coverage on the papers and her blog on the Mafia, along with her travel pieces, are single-handedly keeping The Tact floating right now. She's a golden goose, the captain at the helm, and she's carrying it all, creating new structures and programs from ashes.”
“I heard one of the board members tried to get her on the board. Is that true?”
“It's a rumor, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's real. They're trying to save face.”
“Well I hope it sinks and then Mort can find a better job, somewhere she's appreciated.”
“Didn't you hear? Someone bought out all the stocks during the crash in March. They have to be insane. The company is worth nothing now.”
“Poor fool probably got hoodwinked.”
“No doubt.”
Overhearing the women talk about her best friend was hard, hearing them discuss her private affairs was harder. But she had promised Amaris to do better, be better at not flying off the handle, speaking before considering her words. It was turning out to be a chore she hated.
“You look lovely in that Miss Daphne.” Her regular attendant for this particular shop smiled as the pink dove twirled in the mirror. Shimmering gossamer refracted blends of iridescent pearl pink light as the fabric caught the rays of sunshine on her curves. Golden hair splayed around her shoulders.
A gift to herself, since treatment had been going well. Well, as well as one with cancer could manage. Her body had been rejecting treatments, putting on more weight with the meds and radiation making her hate how she looked. Each curve now was settled just a bit more than she'd like, and her old wardrobe was funneled off to different thrift shops in the area to help fund projects for the local community. A new wardrobe was being purchased in the only therapy she knew, shopping.
Nothing was working anymore, even Amaris’s blood transfusions were beginning to waver after all these years and that alone told her soon she'd be counting seconds and not days very soon. Her body was collapsing in on itself and she didn't know what precious time she had left.
But she still hoped, still wanted to stay here and live. There was a world outside waiting to be discovered. People to love and laugh with, places that would make her cry from the beauty. More dresses and shoes to wear. More hearts to embrace and men to kiss. Maybe she'd give women a try? Why not, after all she was a dead girl walking, might as well try everything on the menu. She was a lover at heart and believed everyone deserved to be loved, to have it if they wanted it. Even as she embraced the sands of time to stop fretting as they passed through her fingers that cut her time shorter and shorter. She'd live unapologetically till the day her heart stopped. Love with everything she had.
The world was far too cold and distant. Everyone was wasting precious time. Why waste years when one isn't promised them? For what, assurance?
She couldn't understand those that sat by and waited for it. Amaris was sitting on her hands when she should be kissing a Mafia boy like the stars would burn out. After all, neither she nor her friend had time… she didn't know what her family would do to Amaris after she was gone. Or if Amaris could live after having her body torn apart. Could one live without vital organs? A picture that made her pale flashed across her mind and she wanted to scream. No. She wouldn't let Amaris be a vegetable, a body in a bed to harvest from.
And what of Ruggie? Surely sooner or later age would catch him and he'd end up dead or worse, trapped and unable to be free because of unforeseen circumstances. He could get shot! Life didn't play favorites. Money wasn't happiness, but it did help make things easier. She was very aware of that fact. But that didn't make it worth the price. He was wasting time when he could be in Morocco.
Her hands brushed at spots hidden beneath the slinky dress, puckered scars where organs were taken and replaced like candy bars in a checkout aisle. There were only so many rh-null bodies on earth, fewer willing to sell organs for cash. Few yet in her age range.
She had to think of something to hide Amaris, free her, but how? She wasn't a human being, not under law nor science. Humanity wasn't gentle with things it didn't understand, it destroyed them. And it wasn't like she could find proof that she was the exception to the rule...
The world didn't care about Amaris.
Across the street a few couples walked and she had to rub her eyes, swearing she saw pink hair. This was up-town, dyed hair wasn't exactly the norm. Glancing again she noted it was a feathered head piece. Maybe there was a film shooting nearby?
Shaking her head Daphne rolls a diamond earring between her fingers looking at the mirror once more.
“I'll take it.” Her honey eye slid to the black-clad woman with a name tag. “Pack it for me? And don't forget the other things for Amaris. Her birthday is going to be good this year. I'm making sure of it.” The memory of opening that box—seeing the skull of Amaris’s father— crumbling on the paper was still carved into her mind. She despised Dahlia, but what could she do? Money was worthless against blood and bone. If hiring someone worked, Dahlia would be gone by now …
Stepping back into the changing room she hands in the pieces she'd rejected, pinks and baby blue, a few whites and some sunny yellows with minty accents.
Bright colors were her armor, and her shoes were her sword. And she wielded them with the same precision her best friend wielded her pen and lipstick.
The saying was true; give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.
Stepping out, she brought the dress to the counter, soft pink a-line skirt cradling her legs that wore those diamond studded heels still. She settled the slinky fabric along with the shape wear to go beneath as the lady servicing her smiled and made small talk with the blonde. Each purchase coated in tissue paper and boxed with care, taped shut. Those for Amaris were tied with ribbons in deep sapphire, it seems they had read her account preferences, probably had Amaris's name on file since she talked about her so much.
Too bad she couldn't buy what would change lives.
“Oh sir, we take returns at this desk.”
She pulled her pink-cased phone from her coach purse that was hot pink, the shell a rather hardy one, as she popped a hip. Nails tapping away she scrolled and wrote a few lines for a piece on the latest TV show that claimed to be a paradise for love. She adored it, but seeing the same roles play out over and over made her sad. Why play games with so many? Why not just decide to be a poly? Clearly, they were all attracted to each other. She never understood monogamy. Love could be shared, not just possessed as long as everyone communicated and was respectful. Hell, she did it.
Her boys, her perfect and handsome men, flashed through her mind as she side-stepped a rather tall man who stood to her right, scanning a message from Des who was currently organizing her desk like a good intern. Maybe she should get him something… nah.
“Pardon me,” The man says and her fingers pause. Gilded nails arc for the glass as her screen goes back and she sees his face behind her.
Teal hair, with the striking back streak, swept back from mismatched eyes. She knew which pair belonged to which twin, memorizing that months ago. Well-matched and layered clothes impeccable and clean. Face carved like an Adonis statue in Rome with how he watched her from that little back box. His under profile was attractive too?! She gasped and looked back at him, heel slamming on his toe before her back met some part of him she couldn't name because her heart was in her skull and her brain had turned off in favor of the heat she felt running down her spine.
She was a deer in headlights as he shone her with a smile, head tilted, wincing.
Jade Leech.
Crap her heel was on his toe. Move Daph.
“Sorry!” She exclaims and turns retreating a few steps away apologizing profusely in Russian with pink cheeks and busy hands that rolled her phone. “Is it broken? I can call an ambulance. I'm so sorry!”
"You certainly do make an entrance, mi cara*." The corner of his mouth lifted. "Did your friend teach you this as well?” Those words made her rather sheepish as she watched him move his dark Italian leather shoes a bit before returning that dual gaze to her.
She got the color right for her ribbons.
“No-I mean- she could have, it's been so long-” she pauses, closing her mouth and turning away. “No, no, I won't be made a fool again by you.”
It was his turn to blink at her, how dare he act so innocent. “As you wish. I simply wished to say hello.”
She couldn't see his face, but the flash of fabric on his arm made her pause and look back just a smidge. The glossy fabric has her all but swooning. Maria had taste. Or maybe it was one of his other friends.
“It's pretty.” Her voice, crippled in shyness, dares to open the door between them again. “Maria's?”
“It failed to meet her expectations." His fingers smoothed over the fabric. "A tragedy, really. Fancy meeting you, I expected a dull afternoon, not one with lovely company.” His fingers caress and edge and her eyes track them like a biscuit for a hound. All of her self-built hatred was crumbling, gods she hated how easy she caved for a handsome face.
How much she wanted to lick his fingers and have them at her lips, keeping her in check while he did other things to her. This was hell. And his name was Jade.
“Would you be available to help me find something for her to replace it? I'm still learning about fabrics, and you always seem to mesmerize the room with color.” His head tilted, no doubt studying her as she twitched like a crack addict. Is this what Bellamy felt like next to Amaris? No wonder the idiot was so stupid. She couldn't blame the guy either way.
“Sure.” She wanted to scream at her weak will. She had six men, six! Why was he able to just wrap her around his finger…
Amaris was gonna kill her.
“Excellent.” He lays the dress on the counter and extends a hand behind her like a gentleman would in letting a lady lead the way. “Then I shall rely on your expertise.”
Flushed crimson a hand flies to her heart as her previous shopping partner gives her a thumbs up as she set her large purchase aside to be picked up when she and Jade were finished.
“Oh, you shouldn't give me so much credit, really, I just dabble here and there.” She babbles as she starts pulling fabric squares from a rack. “We should start with fabric, then what dress cut she likes. I know I met her before but I feel so bad. I was really sick you see, and I don't remember anything from her helping me. Oh, I'm terrible, I know, who forgets someone who helps another, but maybe this will make it better?”
Pink infused glitter nails hold up some textiles for him. “Silk, cotton, linen, the list is endless really. Does she have a favorite?”
“If you wish to make this an apology gift then you should pick the fabric, yes?” He says from the couch before her having sat down to watch her flit about the show room, that familiar smile, pleasant enough to soothe and unsettling enough to make her wonder what he was thinking. She almost lost air for the sake of paying to keep it.
“I suppose so.” She fingers the fabrics looking them over carefully. “Every woman deserves to feel like a princess at least once in her life.”
He doesn't answer, just smiles, watching her as she talks to herself, admiring patterns and threads before moving on to a cut that she was sure would flatter every body type.
“This is similar to what I got Amaris the first time I bought her something. The universal secret weapon of every woman's closet. You will always feel like a million bucks and look spectacular.” She brings over the dress holding it up for him.
“Do you always choose based on what looks best on another?”
“Of course. My preference doesn't matter, it's not like Maria is wearing this for me.” She explains hanging the expensive gown in view for him. “That is a whole other story and dress.”
“Show me that one,” She could hear the amusement. Shivers running up her neck and scalp as such a tone. Dangerous thoughts purred in her mind. “If you wouldn't mind.”
“What I would pick?” She points to herself and he nods. “But…”
“You do not have to, I was simply curious how you would dress a partner if given the chance.”
Huffing at his clear guilt trip she doesn't stop her hands from reaching into a pile of fabrics. Yeah, she was walking right into this one. She didn't want to be saved. Gods she'd need a drink later, Mafia were so out of her league to mentally spar with.
Amaris would kill her and then bring her back just to do it again. Fuck this was bad, what kind of cuckolded madness was this? Her picking a dress for his lesbian lover.
She smiles as she finds what she was looking for. “I don't know anything about her beyond what Amaris told me. Pink hair, midwife clothes, Italian roots like you.” She fired off trying to bring some sense of intelligence to the conversation. He had to be so bored listening to her rattle on about clothes.
“She said Maria liked using the saints names so I would infer she has a faith, or at least regards herself with it, so maybe cream? Not for purity, but because Italy is hot and the churches are cold if I remember right. Stone and stained glass. The light color would travel well too in other parts of Europe and the sea side. She should have her knees, shoulders and chest covered according to some signs I saw when visiting Italy… so maybe a veil of some sort around her shoulders? Veil isn't the right word… oh, I'm sorry, my English is still a work in progress.”
He rose, joining her in admiring the dress she had chosen. “You have been to Italy?”
“Yes, though not the countryside. Just the main cities. The doctors are quite good, and the sea is…” She paused when his fingers brushed hers, buffering in real time as she screamed internally. His hands were soft, a man with soft hands was unheard of and he clearly took care of them by how he rubbed the fabric between his fingers. She wanted to bite them, lovingly, it was unfair he looked so yummy everywhere all the damn time.
“The sea?” Those eyes of cerulean sea moss and light house glow meet her honeyed ones. She wanted to be a puddle on the floor, melt for him into a gooey mess to play with. Fuck she was screwed and he wasn't single which made things worse, so much worse. “Most people remember the food.”
She didn't do attached men, she didn't do men who had side chicks. She was fiercely jealous unlike Amaris who would just shrug and cut a guy off with no revenge. Something about knowing one's value... She wished she could be so easy going, but she loved hard and when that broke …
“Yes,” she lets the dress go, hands retreating to her heart. “This is what I would choose. It just needs a… veil? And yes the food is delicious, like the pasta and rich sauces without all the additives, but there's something about the water.”
“Shawl I believe is the word you are looking for.”
She clicks her tongue and sighs. “Yes, yes, that's it. Shawl.” Her arms lift to do the motion of putting on such a piece. “Maybe something embroidered with something she likes? I can do it but I have no idea what her taste is.”
“You sew as well. My you are quite gifted.” He tugs a scarf, long and sheer from a display dropping it over the gown. “How does this look? Is it too little? I'm partial to linen, it's a finer weave.”
“It's perfect.” Her fingers adjust the scarf to lay as it would for modest dress, perfect for a church. “And she could wear it anywhere really. The color is stunning. I just wish I knew her jewelry preferences. She needs something to go with it.” She taps her rose painted lips, scanning a jewelry table as she starts picking pieces and setting them in the fabrics he held. “Speaking of, if I gave you a gift for Mrs Moon could you find a way to make sure it reaches her for her baby shower?”
Jade, much to her amusement, followed her around as she piled on assorted metals and gems, pearls and stone babbling about complexion and coloring, asking him questions that weren't really questions but trying to chop her nerves off at the roots for fear she would grow far too comfortable with the Mafia member.
“You seem remarkably invested in making Maria happy. Anyone really.”
“Ofcourse. You asked for my help and I will give you my best effort.” She clicks her tongue and pulls a few sets off and grabs a box to set some platinum moon shaped earrings with a blue stones and a simple necklace. “This is for Mrs. Moon. Someone needs to look after the mom and get her something nice that won't make her feel fat. I can add a receipt so she can return it and get something else if she dislikes it."
She couldn't tell if he'd frozen or just was processing, either way he accepted the box with little delay after a moment. “You are very generous. When choosing a gift, do you generally prioritize usefulness or sentiment?”
“Why not both, that's what makes a gift so good after all. One must be able to use something and also be able to see the sentimentality in it. Otherwise it's worthless.”
By the time they finish and make it back to the front with the dress and all of its many elements she swipes her card and has it packaged specifically with Maria’s hair in mind. A white box with a hot pink ribbon tied in a perfect bow.
She goes to hand him the gift and sees he was already carrying every single bag she had her purchases tucked away in.
“Oh, you don't have to do that. I can call someone.” She holds his box tightly twittering over in those shiny heels that put glass to shame.
“Consider it my payment, Azul makes a fuss if we are in debt to anyone.” His lips go up again and she can't help how her shoulders rise in bashful flattery at his next sentence. “Though it's my pleasure to assist you mi diamante*.”
“I'll drive you to where you'd like as further payment then. Those bags are heavy, I know what I bought.” She plays with her hair, undecided on tucking a few strands or leaving them. “I'm trading in today, so I hope you don't mind coming along. I could always use a second pair of eyes with the dealerships.”
His brow rose and she hoped he didn't find her shallow. Amaris was like him, in a way, and she knew her friend hated going to the dealerships with her. Something about mindless prattle and obvious kiss assery for the sale.
She quite enjoyed it, she loved the attention and feeling taken care of. Some of her best interactions were with such places specifically for that. They were being paid to be charming, and she had money to fork over. After all, she couldn't build with the time she had, so she had to buy it all or miss out. And she hated missing out.
“I would enjoy accompanying you.” He bows a bit, arm shifting and she quickly waves for him to stop, eyes wide in fond adoration. How the hell did he end up with a lesbian? How lucky was Maria to have such a man. He was perfect.
“Please don't bow unless you want to actually, I can't imagine how your back feels at the end of the day, being so tall. Save your spine the effort, for my empathy, if not your own sake.” She leads for a moment moving to get the door before his hand slides against the brass bar to her own, body bracketing hers just enough to register the heat from him. She about blacks out in a swoon for a breath before stepping into the sun.
Maria had to be a saint like Mrs. Moon. They had to be of the same pantheon. It was the only explanation for such men to be so perfect. She was going to cry into a silk pillow case tonight no doubt.
Caught in the golden afternoon she blinks shielding her eyes with a hand, Maria's gift tucked safely against her chest as she watches him hold the door for some elderly ladies who thanked him rather boldly for holding the door for them.
“Are you always like this?” She flushed, balking as he turned to her, falling into step side by side. Of course, he took the street side, mindful of traffic. No man she'd met in the city had known that was etiquette and she was giddy with joy at being treated like a lady. Like something precious.
“Like what?” He counters and she huffs adjusting a bag on his arm that was sagging and cutting into his elbow.
“You are so well-mannered, composed, articulate, and charming in a genteel manner. If it's the mask you wear then… I wish you wouldn't wear it with me. Not unless it's real.” She rolled her lips into her teeth, gnawing on them as her heart spilled out far too easily.
It's silent for a time. Something she knew well with Amaris, it was how thinkers processed, needing space and time to conclude things. Did he like puzzles? He seemed the type to like what was interesting or different and he did say he preferred surprises. How could she be better at that? She'd need to ask Amaris tomorrow about it at work. She'd never dared to talk to, let alone consider, an intelligent type. They usually found her boring and rather plain-minded. But he was here, and he had been showing interest… right?
“In our interview, do you recall what I said about my qualities?” He starts, looking to her face as she frowns and shakes her head, trying to recall the moment
“No, I don't. I'm sorry…”
“There's no need to apologize. I can remember for us both.” His words struck her, no one had ever offered to remember for her. To see any memory worth keeping as precious enough to recall openly, to say he would just made her fall harder for the man beside her. Fuck, so his was polite intelligence, it was subtle and no wonder Amaris had so many marriage proposals herself. Too bad slow and steady was choking her clock.
She wished she had more time to just know him… he seemed worth it.
“I spoke of being pleasant and how it benefitted not just me, but those I interacted with. It's a quality I possess,” He explains. “So you can rest assured my behavior isn't an act. It is beneficial, but not untrue.”
Daphne let his words marinate in her ears, he really was so good at calming her worries. She had known it straight from the second he spoke to her, called her a funny name. He was gentle with her and all she wanted to do was climb him like a tree. Maybe this was what grounded heat felt like?
He wasn't wild like Roberto, or overbearing like Alejandro. And he was far from demanding as Miguel was of her time. Even Brutus and Denny sat behind him in terms of eloquence and stability. He made her heart quiet, not race like so many others. She was hot and bothered, sure, but not like she'd known with Alphonso. Jade was a peace she felt like he had a medicine in his presence she'd been looking for all her life. They had tried but in the end all her boys couldn't handle the weight of her fate. So they ignored it.
Something told her Jade wouldn't, if he liked her enough.
But was it fair to let him in when she could die?
Did she care? A part of her wanted to be selfish and just try to buy him, it had worked with her other boys. Everyone was happy after all. Everyone had a price somewhere and money was its own form of love.
But the other part of her shrank at the idea. She wasn't going to be that way with him. He deserved her best if he gave her his. So she bit her tongue and swallowed her inner harlot.
“I thought you would have shown up at the auction night.” She starts changing topics, clearly rattled a bit by his honesty. She loved it.
“I did, many did in fact.” Her head snaps over.
“What! No, you guys did not. I was at the door.”
“And very distracted.”
“You can't be serious. What were you hiding as?” Vexed and eager her steps quickened into shorter ones besides his strides.
“I was a waiter. Tell me, does your teacher have bad eyes, is it sensitivity to light or the flashes?”
“She hates cameras for that reason mostly. The bright flash— hey! I shouldn't be telling you this. If you hurt her …” The comical visage of a five-foot woman pointing rather venomously at a six-foot-something man was a vision of hilarity. Several people pause to watch the woman fire off in Russian, not having a clue that she was indeed telling him in detail just how fucked he would be if he— or any of them— dared to harm Amaris.
“You give me far too little credit.” He smiles again, and she wants to shake him for being so damn attractive and not terrified of her temper. If he compared her to a Chihuahua she would summon lightning to fry his seafood ass. “Though your loyalty is noted and your method of rage is recognized. I do believe we had the wrong idea about which of you was the Spitfire.”
She continues walking, taking a few bags seeing his arms drop just a bit from the weight. She didn't want to wear him down, especially since he clearly was working, or something. She'd never forgive herself if his arms were too tired from helping her to do his job well. Amaris had drilled some level of self-awareness into her after all these years. There were too many bodies in those years to be blind to the privilege she had been born into. She needed to care about her impact on others, or else she would be just the same as those who hurt Amaris. Worse.
“No. I just have a temper. Someone has to bark at the rats at her back. It's the least I can do. She's more cunning, I'm more explosive.”
His eyes slide to her, catching some light to make them two-toned gems. Fucking hell she wanted him to look at her naked, to see them travel over her figure. “Interesting, you know her well then?”
“Better than most. One just has to pay close attention and she's not so complicated. She's a writer at heart, loves creating pieces for people to read and disappear into. She simply did that in her blog. Lots of red-fish but hey, she loves Agatha Christie when she is not reading smut.”
“Red-fish?” He chuckles and all she wanted to do was hide, face dark in embarrassment. What she witnessed though was Jade's brow lowering, that familiar crease settled between his brows, one she could never quite decipher on Amaris, nor him apparently.
“I don't know the term.” She confesses fingers tugging at the ribbon on Maria's gift.
“Red-herring. It's when the author deliberately misleads the reader in one or several directions in order to keep the true secret to the mystery hidden. At least that is what I recall from my school years.”
“Red-herring.” Daphne sighs, face hot from everything but the sun by now. “I'm so embarrassed …you must think I'm a fool.”
"You place a great deal of weight on small mistakes.”
“Small mistakes add up. It's important to be aware of where one is weak, or else you'll get taken advantage of.”
“Another Amaris idiom?”
“Probably.” She shrugs. “She's been by my side for a while now. It all blends together. Becomes a part of you, as she talks about. Changing constantly and becoming better.”
“Ah, yes, I recall you giving love advice. Love doesn't hurt you, a person who doesn't know how to love does.” He recited, making her gawk at him.
“You memorized my words?” She huffs, pouting a bit as they reach the dealership. He simply continues forward leaving her to catch up. It was a luxury brand that specialized in custom orders and trade-ins. It smelled like money and leather the moment they stepped in.
“Miss Daphne, how good to have you back.” A stout man in a pinstripe suit strides over hugging the curvy blonde as she laughs.
“Hello Gregory. Do you have my car for me?” She teases and the man waves a finger at her.
“For you Miss Daphne I will give you the world-” His eyes travel to Jade looming at her shoulder like a silent sentinel. “I see you brought a friend. Is Miss Amaris busy today?”
Slipping into her work mode she began dissecting Gregory's posture and tone. Mostly tone still, she couldn't read people's bodies very well unless it was obvious or something she had trained herself to see. Sadly she was not Amaris.
Gregory was afraid of Jade, no doubt recognizing him as she knew he watched the interviews. Time to make a good impression.
“Oh, this is Jade.” She extends a hand to motion to the tall eel beside her with a kind smile. “We happened upon each other earlier and I invited him along with me. I hope that's alright.” Not a question, a statement. She knew how to get her way. She was born and raised to have everything, and she has been taught how to come across as deserving of it all.
“Yes, yes it's quite alright.” Gregory quickly recovers and reaches to shake Jade's hand and then notices the bags. “Ah, my apologies. But please, do sit. It must be scorching out there today and you both are dressed so nicely.”
“Your kindness is appreciated.” Comes from over her shoulder as she sets her bags down with Maria's package at a chair and goes to get her and Jade some water.
This was good, maybe she could help make connections for Jade's family, create a bond? The idea made her giddy. The Ashengrotto Family likes deals so why not help? Surely it couldn't hurt to show Jade she could make an impact.
Returning she found Gregory quite pale and retyping her contract for her trade-in as Jade lounged in a chair that could hardly fit him. The men looked to be polar opposites, the tall one at ease and rather satisfied for some reason, and poor Gregory looked ready to dig his grave and lay in it willingly.
What had she missed?
"Is everything alright?" She pokes the space.
“Just retyping Miss Daphne. Mr. Leech here found a few errors and I'm so embarrassed to have missed them.” Gregory shakes as his fingers clatter on the keys and she frowns walking over to Jade handing him his water.
"Mistakes? But I wrote it, I made the contract.” Deep amber irises find his mismatched ones. “What did you find Jade?” The sugary tone was a performative one, a classic she weaponized often.
He sits forward a bit, hands closing around the glass, holding her gaze, interested maybe. “It was a fine deal, but you were overpaying, I assumed someone had tried to steal what was yours.”
Ah, that made sense. He didn't know how she did business. It was adorable how protective he was.
“I overpay because Gregory has three kids that he pays child support for. The extra money is his for refilling the account his ex wife has him put money into for them. I give him the price up front and additional for taxes. That way he can study nights and go to college online without going bankrupt. And be able to get a court order to let him see his children.” She takes a sip, not amused he probably intimidated her favorite car salesman.
Those eyes widen a fraction. “I see.”
Gregory turns the screen to her. “Is this okay Miss Daphne?”
Turning away her fingers trace the screen changing things here and there, muttering numbers beneath her breath before nodding as she signs with her finger. “Perfect as always.”
“Wonderful. Now let me show you to your new car. It has the latest specs you requested and more.” The stout man stood, adjusting his suit before leading them across the polished marble floors and out into a private lot where their most expensive cars were kept safely hidden and secure.
He pops the door open on the pearly white car, almost iridescent in reflection off the wax. The door rose above his head and inside the screen flickered to life with pink ambient lighting everywhere. It read: Welcome Daphne. “I took the liberty of getting the specs you prefer installed since you're such a loyal customer.”
She peers inside and squeals, heels bright with joy as her face reflects the glow all too well. “Oh it's perfect Gregory. Thank you so much.” She hugs the man with a little hop and he chuckles patting her back.
“Anytime Miss Daphne. Though I would like to know if Miss Amaris is finally with her mon rêve. Summers are made for romance.” He pulls away and she laughs.
“You know how she is, very busy. I believe she's in Morocco currently. She got asked to write a piece on some horseback experiences. Be in a few desert videos to promote tourists to come visit. I think she's staying with a friend.”
“What a fun time then. Is her mon rêve with her? Do tell me she's with him now, it's been what? Almost seven or so months? Longer? A year maybe?” Gregory pulls his tablet with her contract and she slides her card sealing the payment.
“Sadly no, she'll be back in July, maybe August, she has a few more places this summer that demanded her personally despite her trying to get the interns in, and no they aren't together yet. It's frankly annoying. I just don't get why she's sticking around for a guy that is so slow. She doesn't have forever, none of us do.” She hisses, closing her purse. “She never just sits and waits so he better know how special he is to make an all gas no brakes girl like her heel.”
“I think that much is clear to everyone who reads her blog. She is quite the accomplished young woman. Such a shame she's single.”
“Don't let her hear you. She may write about it.” They laugh and she looks over at Jade noting how he seemed quieter. Her fingers brushed his arm, checking in as Gregory gave her the run down of her new car.
“Are you alright?” She whispers seeing his brow tucked just ever so slightly, thank god Amaris had drilled basic kinetics into her brain.
He didn't answer, instead he motioned to the car. “I don't believe there is enough leg room.” And just like that she mellowed from the Twitter of life and looked back inside playing with the seat controls to see if she indeed needed a different car.
“Thank you for catching that. I have a hard time registering what isn't obvious to me. Well, except for love but what can one do?” She sighs and moves a bit to the side so he could see if it was enough.
“You asked for my assistance, I'm simply doing so.” His voice settled into a framed cover and once more she had Amaris to thank for recognition of such a subtle cue. She couldn't name it, per se, only that his usual ease felt slightly restrained.
“Jade, I can get a different car.”
“An odd thing to say to a man you may never have in your vehicle again.”
“No it's not, it's being kind. And you shouldn't have to put up with less simply because of what I desire.” She argues before her shoulders drop realizing the argument was silly. It was a car for crying out loud. “Besides… I need to be better about considering others in all areas. This is good practice.”
“From what I've seen, consideration isn't something you lack.” She about tripped her way into the car.
They pulled out of the lot in a different car that had Jade far more comfortable, bags tucked away, Maria's box settled in the back like a cherished treasure as Jade took the passenger seat. She waited for thirty seconds before resting her truth at his feet while he pointed where to turn to reach his destination.
“Listen.” She starts in the soft glow of the screen as the day wound down to late afternoon. “I love you, a lot. But you're dating Maria and it's clearly complicated. She's your person and I would never step on that. But I won't not say anything to you. Because clearly you are sending me messages you like me back, and I've learned that if a smart person starts acting like they want you, you listen because they have already gone through all the reasons why it's a bad idea and decided it was a good one. So there. I'm falling deeper in love with you than I already have.”
She continues, hand tight on the wheel as he stills, vaguely directing now instead of more focused as before. The screen light cast him in a blue lighted shadow, it suited him in an odd way, like glowing was a part of what has been missing from his appearance before. Maybe it was his mer-nature she was noticing?
“A logical conclusion, given your way of thinking.” He added briefly and she flushed.
“I move fast, I always have. I make Amaris look slow by comparison. I'm bold with affection and I don't apologize for loving, I'm loud and live life passionately. I don't have time to be subtle. I'm dying and I don't have a lot of time to play with.” She paused, swallowing a bit as her mouth dried from anxiety. “I have cancer and nothing can be done in my case. Just prolonged care, which has been my life since I was a little girl.” She looks over, glancing to check his expression but the honk of a car in the opposite lane brings her eyes back to the road. A fire truck screams by and several police cars follow with an ambulance. She said a quick prayer before glancing at him again.
“I can see this isn't something you disclose lightly, or regularly.” His voice bled with what she hoped was sincerity.
“I'm not saying this to pressure you or scare you. I don't even need an answer right now, though it would be nice to have it. I just wanted you, Maria and your coven of ladies to be able to talk and discuss this stuff. It's heavy, and there is no for-sure cure for blood cancer at my stage with my needs and limits.”
She lets out a shaky sigh, telling people was never easy for her, never quite something she got used to.
“So I get if you are upset with how I was in the dealership. It was childish to be so bothered by Amaris’s love life. I just hate watching people love and never get anything from it. It's wasting time, precious time. I'm done now.” She adds and lets silence return. No radio to crowd the space, she lets what she dropped linger in his lap, let's him digest it.
“I see.”
Something in his expression settled before he asked her to pull over, a side street near what had to be a territory marker of some sort. She didn't care about that though, she cared that he heard her and had all the pieces to make his own choice. She could only ask him to be as honest when he was ready, if he wanted more from her.
When he shuts the door and leans down to the window she gives him a smile. “Be safe. And no rush but rush… as soon as you know your answer just get it to me. I don't care how. I just don't want to be waiting when I could spend my time elsewhere. Expiring clock and all."
He bows his head, hair sliding into his face before he draws it back with a large hand. “I will do my best to do so. Thank you for telling me this, it's been very informative.”
“I hope it fills in some gaps.” She taps her keys that had plenty of charms hanging off them. “I personally hate being blind in a situation I need to see clearly in. And I would never try to trick you Jade. I decided, when I came here to this country, I would leave that world behind. I want to be a good woman and love hard with what I have left. But that doesn't mean you have to be a part of that.”
“I can see why you move the way you do..” That smile was back and she wanted to kiss him as he held out a hand to her and she easily gave him her small one. Her pink glitter acrylics sparkling against his skin as he leaned down to kiss the back. “Good night piccola guerriera*."
And just like that she was reminded of a world that she missed. Fine gentlemen in suits, polite manners and crystal table settings, live music playing and of course the fated kiss to the hand on arrival and departure. She missed Russia so much, sometimes it felt like a part of her was gone and she didn't know if she'd get it back. Yet, here was Jade. Giving her a moment she had forgotten meant everything to her.
She wanted to grab him by the collar and figure out how to close that height gap, car or no car. A vehicle would not dissuade her. That would be her favorite problem …along with sex but she was getting ahead of herself.
“Oh, Jade!” She calls after him from the window, the soft glow of the screen lighting her face for him to see. “Tell Maria if you both are interested, so am I. I’m polyamorous, you just have to be clear with me. And I've never been with a woman but if you like her I can try. Okay?”
His eyes glowing in a street light and he gives her a toothy grin, box under his arm. “I will be sure to tell her.”
She nods and puts her car in drive pulling away from the curb. “See you around!” She calls and once more the wind is the only thing that answers her as she makes her way home. To luxury counter tops and plush white couches clean of Des’s shoe stains.
She sets a hand in the passenger seat, the leather still warm as her eyes tear up.
Oh she hoped this didn't just all go up in flames. But she would move on, she had others …others she paid.
Acrylics turning on the radio with a tap the first thing that comes on is a news report of a female citizen visiting Morocco escaping a potential lethal stabbing.
She had never dialed Amaris’s number so fast. As she waited for her best friend to pick up one thought slipped across her mind.
Gods she hoped Jade and Maria were interested… otherwise she just made things awkward.
“You got played.“ Amaris giggles through the phone as Dove stands there with her mountain of bags the next day in the reporters apartment with an ear piece in. She tucks a few gifts into a corner and puts a few more on the couch where Des crashed. Rub it in his face a bit. “Oh dear sevens you got played and he was happy to let you set up the game.”
She paused half aware until it clicked that she was talking about her and Jade's outing. “What?!”
“He likes you.” She listened to her brunette friend's voice fill with what had to be amusement. “He likes you enough to let you decide something for Maria. Daphne he is flirting with you. Not to mention he asked you a lot of stuff.”
The blonde stands there mortified. Replaying the day as it became clear. Horror coats her expression. “Oh my God I bought a dress for his girlfriend and he thanked me for it! I took him home in my car! I confessed to him! I told him so much about me and I know nothing about him!”
Amaris is choking on laughter, bent over most likely in the most undignified position to date. “You are so innocent. Oh Daphne he really really likes you.”
“Then why doesn't he just say so! We could have made out! He could’ve called Maria and we could have had a threesome! He missed an opportunity!” She exclaims half pissed at being strung along again and half angry at the man for not capitalizing on his benefits. She could have had sex with two gorgeous souls that vexed her.
Shouting in Russian as her heels stomped across Amaris’s floor the whole room was covered in the reflection of diamonds, scattered like the pulse of a very angry Dove.
I think the funniest dynamic of shipping with the twst guys, is that no, these guys aren't suave at ALL, they're actually a bunch of idiots who fumble the bag while trying to flirt but they're lucky they're pretty and their efforts are endearing. It's especially funny when it's a guy who generally is pretty smart like Riddle, Azul, Leona, or Jade, but my god that goes out the window and they're an idiot in love. Also when the others notice and they're suffering from second hand embarrassment or find it funny as hell.
Pixel post dividers for everyone! It's not much, but feel free to use them if you'd like.
I don't know the ideal size for these, so let me know if they're too tall. I can make them a bit shorter next time.
Ruggie's "Least Favorite Food" in his profile is listed as "anything rotten," and he also has voice lines about being willing to eat anything, as long as it isn't rotten.
Ruggie grew up with food scarcity back home (more here ▶︎ ) and it seems possible that his dislike of rotten food might have come from situations where it was all he had (not officially confirmed).
Ruggie: "Back in my hometown I was always looking for something to eat. Weeds and that sort of thing."
Ruggie has a comment in Book 2 on EN of Azul's potion tasting like "stew someone aged in gym sock," adding a light-hearted twist to his actual dialogue of, "Tastes like rotten stew!," and Ruggie's "rotten stew" comment was also altered in the English-language translation of the novel ("old stew simmered in a gym sock").
The comment was retained in the EN manga, so only EN-manga readers have this reference to Ruggie's disliked food and, possibly, what was meant to be a hint at his childhood: does he compare the potion to rotten stew because that is a taste that he knows? From a time in his life when it was all he had? 🍩 All conjecture, but interesting to think about!
