Twisted Book Club

Request-; [Open!] 13+ Blog. Staff is 20+. Read pinned post and check masterlist before proceeding!

[twstbookclub]

Masterpost

Welcome to the Twisted Wonderland Book Club!

A place to read, talk, and request Twisted Wonderland fanfictions at your discretion!

We would first like to show you our rules/regulations as to how this page gets ran. Please do click [ HERE ] to read the rules before proceeding!

Thank you for reading the rules! We highly appreciate it.

Next topic to move onto;

                              Will’s and Wont’s.

NOTE: Like stated in the post, we will not make exceptions. We make these rules because some people can be triggered negatively due to certain topics, and while some of the Twisted Wonderland characters have official ages, not all do. Therefore, writing NSFW on these characters is a full agreement to NOT ALLOW that kind of content.

Some of our staff could write NSFW content about other fandoms so if you are interested in the writing rather than the topic, feel free to check out our certain staff pages and social medias!

                                About our team at the TBC!

Currently our team consists of 3 admins who will be the writers and main post makers of this page. We do have lives outside of tumblr, ao3, etc. but we will do our best to check the page every day for new questions and request along with greeting new members!

Meet your admins through these links below!

Admin Kai⚔️

Admin Cat🐈

Admin Cressa🦋

With introductions of our lovely staff done and complete, let’s progress through the next important link.

                                           Masterlist.

This list is where you’ll find all the links to fanfics you would be interested in. You simply click on the link, choose the dorm, character, and browse through. We’ll add the word [Requested] before the title of the writing if not our own ideas, and add a tag like “fluff”, “angst”, or a “TW” if it could have possible sensitive topics.

[twstbookclub]

Fate's Comedy (Part 2)

Summary: When you found a boy, knee scraped and near-emotionless, you thought nothing of it. You helped him, and that was that. You didn't think that his father would be this terrifying. Pronouns: Gender-neutral POV: 2nd Person Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Comedy (i tried), MC is not Yuu, Brief Mentions of Blood, Slight Swearing, Child Silver, Lilia Being An Op, No Beta We Die Word Count: 2, 189 I did not plan for this to be three parts. This part already reached 6 pages, and that's toeing the line between a one-shot and a telenovela. Fortunately, there's no angst here. I can't promise that in the future, though. Still, I hope you enjoy reading this💕Thank you for your patience, and thank you for your continuing support!

Life in a small village was mundane, but it was peaceful. Every villager knew everyone. Newcomers were welcomed with home-made pie, produce, and flower wreaths.

Your eyes burned. Your laptop monitor glared at you from its perch, with what you believed was disdain and disbelief. Its voice seemed to echo in your mind.

“Really? You’re sitting on your ass for so long to do this?”

The page was an atrociously blank slate. Your cursor blinked in and out of existence, while you scrounged for words. The keyboard remained silent in the absence of your feverish typing.

You tried everything: listening to music; checking social media (which led to doomscrolling); reading your favorite books. Your efforts were blessed with the sound of failure, blank and meaningless.

A sigh disturbed the silence. Footsteps, dragging on the floor, followed the screech of a chair. You carefully closed your laptop monitor, even if you wanted to risk thousands of thaumarks to appease your annoyance.

The click of a lock drowned in the cacophonous laughter of playing children. Their brief greeting accompanied waves and smiles directed at you. You wondered whether they were happy to see you, or they thought how funny you were: spat out by an awful Monday with your frizzy hair, twitching fingers, and dark circles around your eyes.

A walk in the forest might do you some good. This village was on the outskirts, where it was far from cities belching smoke and the exhausted grumblings of the working class. The air is clean, so you’re not worried about contracting lung cancer.

You quietly winced. Maybe, existential dread can be willed away with fresh air and sunshine.

Your feet seemed to latch onto the ground. An ache in your back persisted. Even if you tried to puff your chest out, you deflated like a withering balloon. You stepped into the shade of the forest, and you felt as if you dove into a cool oasis.

Light spilled through the gaps in the trees. A breeze rustled the leaves, some falling in a spring shower. Soil crunched under your feet, being shaped by the sole of your shoes.

“This is nice,” you mumbled. “Maybe, I need this. Nothing could go wrong with a stroll…”

You should’ve known that you would jinx yourself.

Before you, a child blocked your path. You found an aurora, gleaming under what little sunlight in this dark forest, in the boy’s irises. Silver hair framed his cherubic face, a natural flush painting his chubby cheeks. Your curious gaze drifted from his face to his hands, fingers resting over a scrape on his knee.

“Ah,” the boy muttered. There was no emotion on his face, aside from quiet serenity. Although, you swore you saw sparkles and blossoming flowers around him.

“Hello. Can you help me, please?”

You stared. A little boy, with perfect enunciation and manners, was not in your bingo card. Kids his age usually cried their heart out and yelled for their guardians. Yet, this child was calmly asking for your help, as if he was asking for you to reach the cookie jar on the overhead shelf.

You didn’t know if you should be impressed by his maturity, or worried about the atypical behavior of this kid.

Princely vibes aside, you wondered why a child like him was in the forest where the village children avoided. Their parents sold the story (complete with scary faces and clawed hands) about monsters in this place, after all.

Concern outweighed caution. Regardless if this was a new scheme concocted by some crime syndicate or not, you knelt before the boy.

He silently withdrew his hands from his knee. You squinted at the wound, shallow scratches that oozed a bit of blood. Aurora irises shimmered in spite of his stoic face.

“Where are your parents?”

“Father is away,” he murmured. Your forehead creased when his face slightly paled. You chalked it up to his pitiful pain tolerance.

Tactfully, you didn’t ask about his mother. That was a can of worms you’d rather not have chucked in your face.

You sighed. Before you could offer to bring him to your house for medical care, the little boy asked, “Our house is nearby. I can take you there. Is that okay…?”

Losing my life or money be damned. It’s only been five minutes, but if anything happens to him, I’ll kill the ones responsible then myself.

His polite tone threw your doubt out of the metaphorical window. Before you knew it, he led you to a humble cottage with his hand in yours.

No bandits nor minions in a crime syndicate ambushed you. Only your questions and his curt answers filled the silence, while you disinfected his scrapes. A first-aid kit was open on the table, while the boy sat in front of you. You introduced yourself as you did.

“My name is Silver,” he said. You felt his stare boring holes into your head, hovering over his knee. You set the cotton aside to gently slap a band-aid over his scratches.

You paused. Your teeth bit into the plush of your bottom lip. Gentle fingers patted the band-aid, before they reached for another. Your gaze drifted from his knee to his hair, shining under a patch of sunlight from the window.

Whoever named this adorably polite boy, you hoped that may be the only horrible thing they did to Silver.

After swallowing your giggles, you plastered another band-aid over a scrape too long to be hidden under the first band-aid. “Why did you leave home when your dad isn’t here?”

Silver pouted. He looked down to check his knee, just as you bit your lip to stifle a squeal. His cheeks appeared chubbier, like a dumpling, than before.

“I was looking for berries,” he whispered under his breath. Somehow, you managed to understand what Silver said.

Still pouting, Silver explained himself. You couldn’t help but linger on the subtle lisp in his speech. You held yourself back, or else you might suffocate this poor boy by accident.

“I want to make berry jam for Father before he comes back. I tripped, then you came.”

You covered your mouth with your hand. Suddenly, you hunched with your elbows digging into your knees. As Silver asked if you were okay, you thought of one thing.

This boy is so sweet. Holy crap, I wish he was my kid.

After you took a deep breath, you lifted your head and asked, “Do you want me to help?”

That was how you ended up in the kitchen with Silver. The latter stood on a step stool (one you found sitting in a corner), while you watched the jam boil in the crockpot. Juice stained yours and Silver’s aprons. The basket on the counter had some berries left, which your temporary charge suggested to make a pie with.

“And… done!” You turned the knob, the fire dying on the stove. Silver tried to stand on his tiptoes to peer over the rim of the pot.

You instinctively put a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. The other hand scooped a bit of jam with the wooden spoon. The corners of your lips twitched into a smile.

“Give it a try,” you urged Silver. Before he did, you quickly added, “Better blow on it. You might burn your tongue.”

He did just that. Silver blew on it with his hands gripping the edge of the counter. You gestured for him to swipe some jam with his pinky finger.

You watched Silver’s cheeks puff, before he put the jam into his mouth. His face brightened, and his cheeks gained a delighted flush. You swore you saw flowers and sparkles around him again.

“This is good!” Silver exclaimed. Curious, you swiped some jam on your pinky and put it in your mouth, too.

Just as the sweetness coated your tongue, the slam of a door rang in your ears. You and Silver turned to look at the source of the noise.

Flowers spilled out of another basket, laying on its side and forgotten. A young man stood amidst a sad, pathetic shower of petals. Sunlight overwhelmed color, nothing but a shadow of a young man and his rucksack stretched on the floor.

“Who are you?” He asked. His tone promised things that would violate TV guidelines for a general audience. “What are you doing in my house?”

Suddenly, your limbs grew cold and heavy. Your soul was on the verge of leaving your body. All you could think of was how this person (who had two tufts of hair out like bat ears, mind you) was somehow more terrifying than that granny who mistook you for a thief.

You will never forget the fury of an old lady with a purse.

Before you could say something, Silver jumped off the stool and dashed for the stranger.

“Father!”

You collapsed. Your helpless gaze stayed on the boy hugging the legs of the man, who was as tall as the average tween on the cusp of puberty.

A layered bob, with strips dyed in magenta, framed a pale face with red irises, a button nose, and fangs. He wore a plain shirt with an ascot (An ascot? In the big 2000s?) and denim pants, paired with mud-stained boots. His rucksack looked close to bursting, sharp angles poking through the overstretched fabric.

You decided not to speak for your safety. He could swing that bag on you, and you’ll die without finishing your novel.

The tips of his pointed ears peeked through his dark locks. You nearly fell flat on your face.

I’m dead.

Your hands cupped your face. Something hot seared through your cheeks. Tears began to gather in the corners of your eyes.

I’m so dead. If he swings that rucksack like that old lady did, I’m done for!

Oblivious, your arms pressed against the wooden floor. One of your hands ran through your hair, revealing the regret of poor life choices and a torrent of sweat expected of a criminal.

Even without that, he’s fae. Fae! I’m so fucking dead!

“Father—” you looked up to see Silver tilt his head back to talk to his dad— “this nice person helped me with my knee in the forest. Can they stay?”

Cold sweat beaded on your temple. You tracked his sight, landing on Silver’s band-aids to you, who seemed about ready to prostrate before him.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead where you sat.

‘Father’ knelt to his son’s level, then he ruffled Silver’s hair. You try not to clutch your chest and hunch over, as if the cuteness aggression gave you a heart attack.

“Let me talk to our guest first, Silver. Could you stay in your room for now?”

The death knell rang in your head as soon as the child nodded. You watched him shuffle towards one of the cabin doors, as if you watched a traitor from the execution platform.

Once they heard the sound of a closing door, he sighed. Without another word, he tucked his rucksack onto the living room couch. His hands gripped the back of two chairs, wood rings glaring at you for disturbing their peace.

“Sit.”

He dragged one of the chairs across his. His mercy left you scrambling to shakily sit as he commanded.

Without Silver, that gentle smile never existed. The corners of his mouth curled into a sharp smile. His eyelids drooped, blood-red stare piercing through your soul.

Piercing, not peering. It felt as if he held a dagger to your throat.

“Now—” he sat on the other chair. His elbows found his knees. His chin rested atop intertwined fingers. You prepared yourself for either incarceration, or to be buried in the backyard.

“— thank you for taking care of Silver.”

“Wh-wha?”

You watched that smile grow soft. Although, the sharp edges of his mouth remained. Your fingers curled, nails digging into your palms.

You thought this was better than being subjected to magical horrors you’d write about, if you lived through it.

“Of course. I mean,” your fingers fiddled with each other, “I can’t leave him alone. A kid stuck in the forest isn’t exactly safe.”

He hummed. His gaze swept past your hair and your face, then it lingered on your fidgeting hands. You swore the sparkle in his eyes dimmed for a moment.

That glimpse of something disappeared in an instant. He smiled wider, cheeks gathering under his closed eyelids.

“Where are my manners? I’m Lilia Vanrouge.”

Blood-red peered through the small gap between eyelids. “And you are?”

You couldn’t help but sense that, if you gave your name, you’d be stuck here forever. He caught your hesitation in a heartbeat.

Lilia chuckled. “No worries. Giving your name won’t bind you to me.”

Other than those damned sparkles, glee twinkled in deep red. “Unless, you would like to?”

You stifled a groan. The fear gave way to embarrassment, pink faintly coloring your cheeks.

This is going to be disastrous, you thought to yourself. Lilia waited for your answer with that unwavering grin.

Somehow, you had a feeling that you don’t mind the impending disaster.

[twstbookclub]

Fate's Comedy (Part 1)

Summary: Lilia lives for Briar Valley; for Maleanor; for Raverne in every century of his life. He lives among dying screams, enraged wails, and lands dyed red with blood. Not even your presence changed a thing. POV: 2nd POV Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Spoilers for Book 7, Lilia's Past, (Mentioned) Baur Zigvolt, Angst, No Happy Ending (sorry folks), War, Mentions of Blood and Gore, Graphic Imagery of Anatomy, No Beta We Die Word Count: 1, 081 words I am so sorry for being inactive 😭 Admittedly, while trying to survive college and internships, I lost inspiration for writing. Even if I read inspiring works and heart-wrenching fics in tumblr and ao3, nothing just came to mind. Well, I'm back as a graduate and currently a NEET. I think keeping this in my draft for years is a waste, and I decided to write another part to it some time soon. Considering that I contracted something infectious, I'm free up to half a month this year. Thank you so much for your support all this time 💕

“Something on your mind, General?”

A voice cut through the silence of the forest, like a blade piercing through flesh. The soft coos of an owl ceased at the hushed question. No other sound indicated that the person approached, yet Lilia sensed one of the soldiers under his command from behind.

The nocturnal fae sat before the remnants of a campfire. Ash and burnt kindling reminded Lilia of the acrid smoke that rose from the fires of war. The flames licked at the feet of anyone who fled; consumed anything that breathed and stood in its way. Iron and steel ripped through armor, and the clamor of combat drowned the screams and wails of the dying. Whether they were born from desperation or dignity, Lilia didn’t care to know.

Red eyes—ones that promised blood to his enemies, and reminiscent of wine to his comrades—darted to the side. From his peripheral vision, he spotted the mask that hung on your hip. Its teeth bared at him from its maw, curled into a ferocious snarl. It was a stark contrast to the gentle eyes and subtle frown on your face. Anyone who fought you would have second-guessed themselves if you wrenched your mask off in the heat of the moment.

“Nothing,” Lilia briefly responded with his arms on his knees. He knew you long enough that you would sit with him, even if he didn’t ask you to. Long, grueling days of training gave him time to peer through your stubborn nature.

Lilia spoke whenever necessary. Despite his petite build, he could slaughter ten warriors—maybe even more— in a matter of seconds. He shouldered the responsibility and led soldiers towards victory, despite his disregard for the title of general. His weapon faintly glowed in the dim forest, and no one could recall a time when it dulled from the blood of his foes.

Although, his eyes didn’t grow bright nor gentle. His magearm did, but never with affection. All it cared for was the blood of the fallen.

Yet, he allowed you to sit next to him tonight.

You scoffed. The moon blessed you with ethereal light, morphing concern into melancholy. “Nothing, he says. Has our time together mean nothing to you?”

Your melancholy lost its meaning after you joked, “You wound me, General.”

The fae in question grunted. A corner of his mouth twitched, but nothing more.

“If you have the time to jest, get some sleep. We still have a campaign to finish.” Lilia’s gruff tone broke the quaint silence. He snuck a glimpse of you, whose smile seemed to split your face in half.

A huff of laughter left your lips. He felt the nudge of your elbow on his side. The dig of armor against bone felt nothing to Lilia now. It didn’t compare to the stinging sensation of iron nicking his cheek once. He never allowed it to happen again after the first time.

“I rarely have time for a chat with you these days, General.” You chortled. One look at Lilia, whose crimson eyes found yours, softened your easygoing smile.

“Without enemies lunging at us and the troops fast asleep, I can call you ‘Lilia’ again, right?”

Lilia answered your question with an unimpressed look. He knew you long enough to understand that this was inevitable.

He had seen you stab at enemies with savage intent; slice through skin and sinew until blood splattered on your mask. His fellow fae, smiling widely and talking with a gentle voice, had killed humans. Yet, you rarely linger on the thought of blood on your hands. Your blade always found another before a scream rang.

Despite that, you were like sunshine: smiling brightly and infecting the air with a joy too saccharine for Lilia. Many in the army took a quick liking to you, amiable and cheerful as you are. Even now, after dealing with another ambush from the humans, you thought to chat with him instead of sleeping.

You were too jolly for Lilia’s liking. Even if he had grown accustomed to your eccentricity, Lilia wondered why you bothered talking to him. There were other people who would welcome your company.

Why would you waste your time on someone like him?

“No,” Lilia replied, as if severing what peace remained in this night. “I told you not to call me by name during a campaign.”

He offered no reason other than that. Regardless, you groaned and tilted your head back in frustration. Lilia caught your smile before a frown took its place again.

“I made sure that there are no humans around! C’mon, Lilia!”

“No. Address me as ‘General’, you halfwit.” Lilia’s insult had less bite to it than usual.

You pouted, then laughter spilled from your lips. It reminded Lilia of the days when they were still trainees. Everything seemed to make you laugh no matter what.

The laughter remained in your smile, even when your eyes lost their shine. Blood welled and oozed from a gash across your chest. Silver buckles and magic-laden armor drowned in blood. Your limbs were splayed as if you were merely sunbathing in the middle of a field, torn asunder by magic and death.

Lilia’s knee dug into the earth, grass and dirt dyed in red. His hand reached for your face before he realized it. Gloved fingers gently closed your eyes. His thumb wiped off the blood that smeared the corner of your mouth. Lilia pulled away as if touching you burned him.

Even if the sun was reflected in your eyes, it will never be the same. Your joy had been taken away, along with your life.

Yet, you smiled. Lilia didn’t understand. He never understood you for a long time now.

The voices of his men, shrill and apprehensive, called for him. He could hear Baur's thunderous pitch among them, words incomprehensible and warbled in Lilia’s ears.

“General,” he whispered. Long, tendrils of dark and crimson locks trembled around his shoulders. His teeth drew blood from the inside of his cheek.

“You never liked calling me that.”

The fearsome general looked over his shoulder. Baur and a few more soldiers approached, only to falter in their steps. Their eyes drifted from their leader’s leer to the corpse that laid before the latter’s feet. Before they spoke a word, he barked, “Don’t stand there and gawk like fools. Gather your wits and regroup!”

Lilia would never know the reason now. You had taken everything before he could reach for it.

[twstbookclub]

Indefinitely His

Summary: You finally have the opportunity to go back home, but Floyd... has a little twist for you. POV: 2nd POV Pronouns: Gen Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Floyd Leech, horror, twstober 2024, possession, chase sequence, lord please help us all if this happens in the game. Word Count: 928

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS PAGE HAS BEEN DEAD BUT THE ADMINS ARE ALL COLLEGE STUDENTS, WORKING, AND I, KAI, AM WORKING ON A VISUAL NOVEL GAME ON THE SIDE LORD SAVE ME but enjoy Floyd horror :D

“This is so unfair~”

That menacing voice rang through every direction of the school grounds, and it didn’t help that the earlier rampage knocked the lights out.

This wasn’t an overblot. It was his normal behavior skyrocketing.

You covered your mouth as you tried to keep quiet. Every student who was there to say bye to you was knocked unconscious with a single move. The school was dark and that was your only advantage. 

“Aww, Shrimpy… It’s no fun if you hide!” He yelled as he knocked over some items, hoping to find you there. He laughed with a small wheeze as he looked around again, but you took the opportunity to run out of the room.

Floyd was pissed at the thought of you leaving, annoyed at the thought of his shrimpy leaving his side, and irritated that you were hiding from him now. “Don’t be scared, Little Shrimpy. I ain’t gonna squeeze ya too bad.”

You weren’t that fast for him though. Almost instantly, Floyd had a tight grip on your arm with a child-like laugh coming out of his maniacal behavior. You let out a yelp before trying to run off again, but Floyd won’t let you leave. 

“Hey, what’s wrooong~? Does it hurt, Shrimpy? That’s too bad…”

His voice was playful with tones of ill-intent underneath, but he gave you a giggle. “Poor thiiing.”

“Floyd—” You started while pulling away, but he was like a tower compared to you, so much bigger and stronger. Your movements meant nothing, and you couldn’t even use magic to get away unlike some of the other students.

“C’monnnn, put up more of a fiiight… it’s no fun if you aren’t squirming around~” Floyd said as if this was a game, but the look in his eye showed that he was serious. “I’ll give you a headstart.”

The moment he let go of you, it felt like you were some animal on the verge of getting preyed on, and your life was on the line. You began to run until you could no longer sense his presence. 

But not even you could escape that.

Your body brought you back into the mirror chamber, and you stopped as the room was only lit up by its natural green and purple hues from the gems and crystals that decorated the room.

It didn’t matter where you looked. There was blood and bodies everywhere.

First years were scattered around the floor, and it didn’t matter what they did, their blood was spilled.  Second years had bruises and obvious head injuries as most of them had been thrown onto the walls or floors.

Your memory flashed the images of Floyd almost getting tackled by the third-year students, but nothing worked. Floyd had squeezed them unconscious.  What surprised you the most was seeing Malleus in a slight panic before succumbing to the anger the merman had fallen into. 

You had to get to the mirror. It grew a bright green as the portal to your world finally opened, but your feet couldn’t move from fear. What if he got there before you did? You just wanted to go home now.

You forced your legs to move as you got closer to the center of the room, pulling in all of your might to try and leave now before you could get hurt.

Floyd usually bothered you, but you never thought he’d go this far. To hurt everyone in his path. Your eyes slowly moved to the body nearest to you.

Jade.

He had done his best to ensure you were protected when Floyd began his rampage, but his brother forgot about that bond in that anger. Jade was the last one to drop, and that’s when the true nightmare began.

You snapped out of it as footsteps came your way and you reached the steps towards the mirror, but there was nowhere to hide this time. Before you could think of a plan, Floyd was already in front of you with a smile that showed every one of his sharp teeth, reminding you of the spot you were in.

You were below him right now. You were like a little toy to him right now. A toy he didn’t want to share or return to its rightful owners. He was going to keep you right here, even if it meant breaking your limbs so you couldn’t crawl away.

“Shrimpy~” He called out softly, getting closer and closer to you. Floyd grabbed your wrist, but the grip felt like the strength of a thousand men. You could feel your wrist dislocating and your nerves tingled like little punctures from the cut-off blood flow.

“You’re trembling so much. Don’t be scaaared~” 

“If you’re scared, you can call for help, y’know? But no one will come.” He whispered the last part of his sentence before he smashed the mirror with a hard fist. He said you could scream, but not a sound came out in your mental to physical attempt. 

His expression became serious as glass flew. From shards to tiny pieces landed in the air and pierced Floyd’s hand, causing his flesh to bleed out. A small shard cut your cheek, and the sight made his eyes seem like knives. You were stuck.

Your mind blanked with your sanity and Floyd liked seeing you frozen in terror, so small in his power. He moved closer to tower over you, his voice playful and bone-chilling at your already still frame.

 “Who told you that I would let you go, Shrimpy?”

“I will never let you leave.”

[twstbookclub]

Love in the dark

Summary: Having feelings for a delinquent is... hard. Having feelings for said delinquent and changing him for the better is worse. You thought he would've forgotten you, but even with your feelings in the dark, you had hope that he would. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Deuce Spade, Deuce angst. very light angst, delinquent Deuce, open-ended, I could follow this up one day... could Word count: 3,458

A/N: I was g o i n g to post this one after the Parallel Lines fic, but I was way too excited to post about Epel and Azul angst(I was so proud of them), that I put this on the back burner. I know we had a 2 week post period and now I've left it for a month yes I KNOW, but I was trying to let this one take a while to post, because honestly... we have no content right now.

On a technical scale, we do, at least I do, I have like 2 of them in the basement ready to be edited and like 4 as WIPs, and I'm honestly writing other fics that aren't twst related(heh follow my personal Tumblr), but there's still things to do plus life stuff SO ty all for being patient !

Your home wasn't exactly in the best neighborhood. You had a parent who was barely around due to work, which meant you were home alone most of the time. You had some good entertainment, though. These poorly built apartments had thin walls, and you lived beside the one family that was a complete 180 from yours. 

The Spade family.

You didn't know them enough, but only a mother and son existed. It was the home of a short-tempered woman and a teen delinquent, but you knew the teen.

Deuce Spade, notorious for constantly yelling and leaving the house in the middle of the night after an argument, was the main piece for your noisy neighborhood. His mother had blue hair with blonde highlights, yet Deuce only had blond hair. He used to have naturally blue hair, though.

I mean, he is a delinquent.

His mother was sweet and patient despite her son's behavior. She made sure you would eat, have clean clothes, and a clean uniform. She was practically like your mother. She would sometimes invite you to stay over for dinner, and why not accept such a kind offer?

Plus, you liked seeing Deuce. The first time you saw him was the first day of middle school, and you caught him as you were leaving your home, his teal eyes stopping on yours for a few seconds. After the first day, you went home to see his mother waiting for you right by your front door.

That was when she found out that you often stayed alone at home, and she offered you a snack of peeled apples. Since then, she would sometimes knock on your door to ask to come over for dinner or help her run an errand, which resulted in you staying over.

This was one of those times. She invited you to have dinner with her since her son had left the house again, but you were studying at the table since your home was too quiet to concentrate.

“Uhm, Miss Spade—”

The door suddenly opened, revealing a beat-up Deuce with a scowl and torn-up clothes. His eyes instantly landed on you, and his scowl grew worse.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house—”

Smack!

Deuce's mom suddenly hit the back of his head with a rolled-up newspaper, with a scowl on her own face. “Don't curse in my house, you rude brat. They are my guest, and you will respect them.”

Deuce held the back of his head with a wince and growled, looking towards his mother. “Lady—!”

Smack!

“Quit that. I am your mother and not the one you're mad at. Leave the anger outside and get showered for dinner,” she said, dropping the newspaper on the counter to finish with dinner.

“Sweetie, could you help him out with those wounds?”

You perked up at Miss Spade calling you, and then you nodded and closed your books before standing up.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she says happily, smiling at you. “Just call me Dylla. No need for formalities.”

“Oh–Dylla…” You said carefully with a nod, then smiled back and went with Deuce for him to get ready for dinner. This wasn't the first time you've witnessed this; you already knew the familiar routine after doing this a few times.

You grabbed the first-aid kit and followed Deuce to his bedroom, being stopped at the door. “You thinkin’ to replace me as my mom's kid or somethin’? You got your own lonely house next door.”

You stared at Deuce for a moment and sighed before you smiled at him. “Not at all. Being around a good person feels nice, but you take that for granted,” you spoke confidently, giving him a pat on the cheek and handing the first-aid kit to him.

“If you want to be rude, tend to your own wounds,” you said and walked off, returning to the table to study and do homework despite hearing Deuce groan and slam his door shut.

When Deuce came back, he heard how much his mother was laughing with you and serving you a bowl of food with rice. Dylla hadn’t laughed that hard in ages, and you were all smiles, too. Deuce knew all too well how his mom had taken a liking to the neighbor’s child due to how much time they spent alone, but this was excessive.

You turned and saw Deuce standing there, and then Dylla served the rest of the bowls so everyone could eat. “I don’t understand why you want them here so much. Can’t they ask their own parents to cook for ‘em?” Deuce mumbled, sitting in his spot at the table.

“Because this is my house, kid. You are my child, and they are a child that needs care. Now, stop hiding that kind heart and eat,” she said, followed by Deuce groaning and starting to eat his dinner.

It was quiet, most likely because of your presence and Deuce's tension with his mother.  After everyone finished eating, you helped with storing food away while he washed the dishes. Dylla was gone to buy fruit and snacks, leaving you and her son in awkward positions.

“Hey?” Deuce called, his voice a bit guilty and quiet. The sudden voice spooked you, making you instantly freeze and look at him.

“Hmm? What’s up?”

Deuce turned off the sink and looked at you, looking regretful. “So, I had a pretty big fight with my mom and, you know, left the house. A few days ago, though, I heard her talkin’ to my grandma about how she thinks I turned out like this 'cause she didn’t raise me right or somethin’. So, I kinda wanna ask you for a favor.”

You looked at Deuce with a tilted head, shocked about how he was different after just a little while of being able to think. “Uhh, what’s the favor?”

“Help me get my grades up. I—” Deuce stopped, looking away from you and taking a breath. “I do love my mom, and I can’t stand seeing her cry like that over me. It ain’t her fault I became such a douche, either! I just—I don’t know.”

His statements and requests made you stop to think about what the hell he was saying to you right now. 

“I’ll do it,” you responded, giving him an honest smile. His eyes lit up and he grabbed you by the shoulders, getting excited at your response. “But you have to be committed to this.”

“Seriously!? Yes!” Deuce exclaimed, pulling you close for a random hug and you tried to push him back out of instinct.

You sigh and let him hug you from the side after a bit of fighting, giving in to his efforts. “We start tomorrow, but first, please get rid of that splotchy blond you got.”

Deuce let go with a raised eyebrow. “Tch. It’s a good blond.”

“It makes you look washed out, and you still have some roots showing, so it just looks like a bad job,” you responded, grabbing your study books and placing them on the table.

“Wh—Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right about the bad job,” Deuce mumbled in defeat while touching the dead ends of his hair. “Is it really that bad…?”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” You say and try not to laugh with a small chuckle escaping your mouth, Deuce starts to laugh at the same time and he gently hits your shoulder.

After that, you and Deuce spent day after day studying once you got to his place. It was hard at first since Deuce barely studied and he wanted to distract himself with other things instead of completing the textbooks. 

“Deuce.”

“What!? This stuff is boring! Why can’t they make learning fun or somethin’.”

You let out a sigh and tapped on the textbook page he was on, “Do the page or I tell your mom to cancel on getting you snacks later.”

In an instant, Deuce stopped his shenanigans like a child and got back to work. The sight was honestly funny.

The boy was stubborn, but it took time. You did like spending your days with him regardless. You got to see him in certain ways, like when he was asleep or concentrated, and you even had to start packing him lunch since he wanted to study with you at school, too. 

The classroom was quiet since you both retreated to the science lab for a quiet atmosphere, and you were picking at the rice in the lunch box that Dylla made for you while reading ahead in your notes.

You took a glance towards Deuce and saw him studying diligently. It was charming, even if it didn’t suit him well with that blond hair and the jacket he always wore with his group of friends. When Deuce looked over due to sensing eyes on him, he raised an eyebrow and set down his notebook.

“What's up with you?”

“Huh—” you let out, being caught off guard, “Oh, nothing. You just—you look like an honor student studying so well.”

Your comment made Deuce silent for a few seconds, but then let out a cheer for himself. The sound surprised you, but you remembered that he wanted to have the image of an honor student, so you made his day like that.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to achieve! Perfect! Ooh ooh! How about like this?” He suggested while leaning back and crossing a leg over the other, making himself appear focused.

His behavior only made you laugh, and he didn’t stop until the first bell rang. He tried to continue, but you had to remind him that class was soon, and a star student shouldn’t be late.

The exams went by, and the day the grades were posted was so loud in your neighborhood. 

Deuce ran over to your door and knocked until you opened up, and you were met with a picture of the exam grades on your face. He had made it in the top 60% of the year, meaning he could graduate without problems.

“Do you see this?! That’s what I could do!!” He exclaimed before picking you up for an excited hug. You didn’t have a chance to speak at all.

It made your heart warm to see him so happy.

He deserved it.

“I could only do it with your help.” He spoke more, finally calmer now that he could let it all out. He looked at you with a smile of appreciation.

You just stared at the behavior in front of you. It was so new and weird, but it felt right. He really did deserve this.

You caught yourself staring more and more in the silence, and your ears began to burn before you looked away.

Deuce was staring too, but when you looked away, he did the same with his cheeks growing flushed. Another new behavior.

“Uhm—” you started, trying to get your thoughts together fast enough. “I'm glad you did well, and that I could help with that. It seems you do… have the capability.”

There was a heavy tension. It was awkward. Deuce took a moment to look around through the silence and noticed the boxes around your living room.

You noticed and quickly made up something. “Oh—it's just my family wanting to put some stuff into storage for space.”

“Oh… I see. Well, uh, my mom also told me to let you know that we'll be going out to celebrate her next day off, and she wants to take you with us! So… there's that.”

“Gotcha. Thanks, Deuce.” You thank him before he leaves and you close the door behind him, letting out a quiet sigh before shaking your head.

When Deuce heard the door close, he clutched his chest and let out a breath, then quickly went back home as if he didn't notice that moment.

Over the weeks, Deuce's hair grew out and he got frustrated with its length. He wanted a change now that middle school was coming to a close and he would be going to a different school at Sage Island. 

When he returned home after school one day, you and Dylla looked at the door but suddenly froze. The blond went back to blue.

Your heart began to race as it felt like time had stopped, but you couldn’t stop thinking about one thing—

He looked… like the day you met him.

Whoa.

Deuce saw your expression and raised an eyebrow, staring at you in confusion. “What’s got you all spaced out? Oh, I must look that good if you’re staring!”

“Not at all. You look like you want to be gloomy,” you said sarcastically and turned back around to study. Dylla watched as she saw how you grew flustered.

Deuce’s mother laughed and went to go and mess up his hair by ruffling the strands, causing Deuce to get annoyed. 

“Mom, come on! I just got this done!”

“How can I not? My handsome young man is back!” She responded sarcastically and even attacked him in her motherly hugs for extra effect.

Listening to them argue and joke around was heartwarming, but you couldn’t interrupt them. You carefully got your things and left them to spend the day as a family, retreating to your house.

Deuce started to disappear more in preparation for his transfer to his future school on a whole other land, and you could feel a distance grow.

Deuce started to look more lively and he acted differently; yet still had his pumped personality, but he didn't have the time to spare you a glance anymore.

With Dylla working more to make sure she had the tuition for Deuce, she was gone too. Your apartment was starting to look more and more vacant as all of this went on, a clear sign of what was about to happen.

This was how it was supposed to go anyway. You were never meant to get this close to him. You were the one who kept to themselves. So, this was good. Right?

On the day before the graduation, Dylla suggested you and Deuce hang out and gave spending money as a way to make one last memory.

You let out a sigh as you sat on the blanket in White Rabbit Park, looking up at the colorful evening sky with its orange, purple, and peach hues coloring the clouds.

Deuce came up with a couple cold drinks and ice creams in a bag from the vendor nearby, but there was still that awkward tension.

You and Deuce hadn't talked since exams were over and he began to fix himself onto a better crowd, but now the inevitable was tomorrow.

After tomorrow, when would you ever see him again?

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Deuce opening a can of soda, which made you jump from surprise. Your reaction made Deuce laugh before he handed an ice cream to you.

You looked at it and your expression fell a bit. You didn't like this flavor anymore. You checked the other soda can too, but it was the same thing. Did he forget what you liked?

No.

He just hasn't been around to find out what your new palette is like.

You ate the ice cream anyway under the silence of the still sunsetting sky, not wanting his gesture to go to waste. It made you feel guilty to reject something he bought for you.

“So, tomorrow is the day.” Deuce spoke after a long silence and by this point, the moon was already out to say hello for the night. 

Neither of you looked or spoke to each other, finding it too nerve-wracking to do it.

“It is, but it was a good time.” You responded with a small smile, feeling a lump in your throat starting to form.

“It was. Thanks for helping me study and getting me to where I am right now.”

Deuce looked at you shortly after, and your head instinctively turned to return his gaze. His eyes were filled with slight regret, but also had gratitude.

“It's not a problem at all. Really.”

It was silent again with stares that could pierce the heart, but he walked you home after a short moment.

“See you.” You said, watching him get to his own door.

Deuce looked at you and let out a chuckle, “See you tomorrow.”

He was right next door, but seeing him walk off like that made it seem as if he was farther than usual.

You felt your eyes water with every step you took inside your home, being met with more emptiness.

By now, your home was as empty as could be for someone who was also moving away. You stood in the middle of the box-covered living room and let out a sigh of defeat, knowing that tomorrow was inevitable.

At the ceremony, some cried and some were happy to leave, but your eyes could never stop glancing at Deuce, who looked stoked to graduate now that he had his diploma in hand. It was nice to see him like that after the trouble he put himself through.

The day went by without a single worry and all its students were just as carefree. They were happy to now move on to the next chapter. You stood at the school gates with your diploma and a small flower bouquet that Dila got for you as congratulations for your hard work.

You watched as Deuce and his mother spent their time together, and you were waiting for your own parent, yet they never showed up to anything. As you decided to leave, Deuce called out to you and ripped the second button off his uniform, placing it in your hands.

Your eyes widened as you looked at him, “Wh—what?” was all you could mutter out of your shock. 

“To… remember me, I guess. Thank you for helping me get there,” Deuce said, then he gave you a smile and went back to his mom.

You were left speechless but were slowly overshadowed by a wave of sadness. This was one of the last times you’d see him. He was moving away to go to a school on Sage Island, and you were moving to be closer to your soon-to-be high school.

But they didn't know that.

That button was the closest to his heart, and it’s known that most give it to the person closest to them. You let out a small laugh before sighing, and then after taking one last look, you left the campus.

Deuce headed up to your apartment door and knocked, a bit nervous as he knew that giving you the button was risky on his end, but he knew what he felt.

He listened, but no one opened the door. He kept knocking with a look of confusion, but still no answer.

He grew worried, so he put his hands on the doorknob to see if it was locked.

“It's open…?” Deuce said to himself before he went in. He was met with nothing.

Not a sound.

Not a noise.

Not a soul in the home.

It was dark, but everything began to click in mere seconds. Before Deuce knew it, he ran back into his home and tried to call your old phone number, but nothing went through.

You were gone, and he didn't know if that was the last.

The weather had then changed from spring to summer, followed by fall, until the days started becoming darker a lot earlier in accordance with winter. You were cleaning a cup at a restaurant job you picked up, and it was almost time to close. The seating area had a few people, but it was normal for a weekday.

You started to reminisce about your high school days and how everything was back then. It gave you a smile to remember that boy. You had your own changes to your appearance since then, but you were still the same.

The dinging of the door caught your attention and cut off your train of thought, giving a smile to greet anyone who just came in, “Welcome in! Take a s—”

Silence.

Your breath hitched as you saw the pair of eyes you were just thinking about.

His own reaction showed a bit of surprise, but he looked unfazed. Unchanged from the seasons that have passed.

He looked the same to you, and you were the one who changed this time.

“You—” followed by a pause, not knowing how to continue.

The boy gave you a warm smile as he kept standing at the door and had his hands in his pockets. He came up closer to the counter before he sat down.

“Hey.”

[twstbookclub]

Fatal Attraction

Summary: Two lives stripped away in a moment's glance before they could even enjoy the gift of love presented in front of them. Caused by strife and wrath, this tragic tale is not one to be taken lightly. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Azul Ashengrotto, Romeo and Juliet, angst, heavy angst, character death, be warned this is depressing Word count: 6,201

I'm gonna totally true here, I had so much fun writing Azul's angst fic, because I took one of my favorite pieces of literature and turned it into a fic-esque work. So, this takes inspiration from Romeo and Juliet, specifically the 1996 version of "Romeo + Juliet" with Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. That version is a lot more modernized to use guns and drugs, etc but I tried my best to minimize all of that to give a less TW tag. I did take some dialogue from the actual literary piece and translated it into modern language, BUT NOT TOO MUCH cause it was honestly really hard 😭

6k words is insane to me because it's more than Malleus or Sebek

I am so sorry Azul stans

Lights illuminate the quiet streets at night, while the city comes alive during the day. However, two rival mafias operate in the town, hidden from the ordinary citizen's eye. Amidst the danger, a casino is the only place where people can forget their problems, but two lovers only need each other for peace.

Azul Ashengrotto is a hitman and negotiator for one of the mafia factions. Well known for his work within the organization and occasional work as a dealer in the casino, Azul is as cunning and deceptive as they come, but it's just his nature.

Azul strolls around the casino with his usual smirk, basking in the glory of a successful negotiation with a company. The other casino staff congratulate him, but he brushes it off, knowing it's all part of his job.

“There’s no need to congratulate me! It is simply my duty as a negotiator.”

After setting his things down, he jokes with some of the casino staff before heading off to prepare for the evening.

Sitting in the garden of your home, you sigh and admire the flowers as the day starts. The day feels long, and sadness makes it feel even longer. You have always been kept within the property of your home. You’re a child of a mafia organization, but your father is hellbent on keeping you from the outside world. You need more, but where could you get that without permission? Suddenly, during your train of thought, a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, good morning, cos," said the voice, playfully interrupting your thoughts.

"It’s still morning?" you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“The day’s barely begun?” Asked Cater, confused.

“Oh, Seven, this day feels too long and dull.”

“But it’s a good day! What sadness lengthens your hours?” Cater asked, trying to sound playful to lighten that solemn look in your eyes.

“Having to sit here and waste away makes my days long and dull, cousin.”

Cater sighs and tries to speak, but your mother calls for you with an alarmed voice. Shrill screams of your name echo, reaching the sky from how loud she is.

You hurriedly ascend the staircase to the second floor, stopping at the middle platform where your mother stood with pinched eyebrows and a subtle frown.

“Madam, I’m here. Is something the matter?”

“Finally! Come! We have something important to discuss. Cater—you can leave,” she said, pushing Cater away. Your mother paused as if something dawned on her at that moment. She shook her head and hastily added, “Wait! Cater, come back! You’re part of this, as well.”

You and Cater rushed to your bedroom and were made to sit on your bed. Maids rushed inside your chambers, and you found yourself being tugged around by each one. The familiar sensation of a brush and the smell of powder filled the room. The sound of rustling fabric and barked orders disturbed the silence.

“Despite what your father says, you are of age. You should go out more—find someone to give you thrills in life!” Your mother exclaimed, helping herself to sit at your vanity table. “I’ve been your mother for many years now, and I’m deeply concerned about your… self-isolation. This is only what I think is best!”

The rest of that conversation was mostly your mother telling you how “the world is your oyster” and that you should take advantage of it. You could only listen until she was tired of lecturing you and walked off to do other things. It ended with Cater helping you get ready.

“Alright. You heard the woman. You’re lucky that I know exactly where to take you,” Cater says with a sigh and starts looking through your closet for you.

The sound of shuffling cards, chips clattering on the tables, and cheers from winners rang through the different halls and rooms. Different themes exist on every floor depending on the games. A floor filled with different slot machine games was filled with neon lights and bright colors to accommodate the vibe. One of them had restaurants galore for each type of economy class that was visiting. Vibrant, blinding colors greeted you, and the mind could easily be overwhelmed by the sight. It smelled of cigarettes and smoke everywhere, and servers held trays of crystalline glasses filled with golden champagne.

Cater brought you to a casino to de-stress. He was familiar with this place, so he knew you’d be okay here. You walked around independently since Cater left you to play a round of Hearts with others he knew.

You watched how people crowded around the poker and baccarat tables. There was a mix of emotions lingering in the casino air: concentrated, frustrated, happy, and angry to name a few. When you turned to another section, you leaned against a pillar and looked in front of you, meeting a pair of bluish-purple eyes.

He was looking at you, too. He looked—

Gorgeous.

You stepped behind the pillar and poked your head out enough just for your eyes to meet his own again. The stranger gave you a modest smile and a gaze so fine that you just had to smile back. Dressed in a black button-up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, fabric fitting his frame as two top buttons were open.

His hair was a pretty gray, and the beauty mark under his lip made his features come together like a perfect painting. His smile grew wider, and he looked away. Then you felt your cheeks grow hot.

It was an unfamiliar feeling. One only your maids and mother would describe to you as love, but is this really what it was? It felt right, but it was too new to confirm true.

When you met his eyes again, he had his hand out for you to take. You looked at the floor momentarily before moving closer and letting your palm touch his, and he guided you to sit at his table.

You looked around, then noticed it was a table of blackjack. Hmm… a simple game. He didn’t let go of your palm and dealt the cards with his free hand. You smiled softly and stared at how he held your hand as if you were glass. 

“You do realize that holding a stranger’s hand for this long is not normal,” you said while looking into his eyes, prompting a laugh to escape his lips

“Well, dear stranger, what is normal? It’s certainly not us.”

“How so?” you asked as you tried to slip your hand away again, but the gesture was met with a firm grip.

“Any other person would’ve walked away from a man with wandering eyes,” he said while leaning closer to you, but you moved away with a smile.

“Would it not be stranger if we were closer than this? Though, I don’t wish to interrupt how you are dealing with this game.”

“Oh? Do you wish to be closer? Closing the distance is not a problem to me.” His offer was tempting, but the words your mother spoke of flashed through your mind. Maybe this is something you should be doing?

“I… can allow that,” you whispered loud enough to reach his ears, quite confident that this was something you wanted

“Then stay while I deal as I please,” he whispered as he leaned closer, noses brushing for a moment before you moved away and stood from the chair you were in.

“Oh,” you laughed playfully and went towards the nearby bar, and he followed you without a complaint, “what a tease. I must say, you’re very forward and quick to act.”

“Wasting no time is what I do best,” he said, following you, watching your movements. “People call me charming and witty, but no praise will amount to anything if I fail to leave an impression on you. Don’t leave me feeling this empty, darling.”

“Why empty? Is the time spent with me so far not fulfilling enough?”

The man placed his fingers under your chin and made you look at him, then he took off his glasses in a swift move. “No, and I won’t be satisfied until I can do this...”

You felt a smile creep up as he pulled you closer and gave you a gentle kiss, only starting. After that gesture, you looked at him and kept your composure.

“Better,” Azul said after that short kiss, a smug look on his face, but he didn’t let you go.

You were a bit surprised by the feeling, but you couldn’t complain. “Is it?”

“Very. It makes me want more…” He whispered before kissing you again, this time letting it linger much longer. 

“You kiss as if you learned from a book,” you spoke softly after breaking it, but he only moved lower towards your ear and neck. 

“Hey, we can’t do this. As much as I enjoy your company, you are a mere stranger at the end of the day,” you said and pushed him back lightly, then tried to walk off. The man moved closer again and sat you down on a bar stool.

His lips found yours again, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your body could only respond to the kiss almost instantly. His hands didn’t let go of your waist, yet your own were on the nape of his neck and shoulder.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but you snapped out of it once Cater called your name. “Hello, Earth to cousin? We have to go!”

Cater looked at the man whose arms you were in and sighed in disappointment, clicking his tongue and pulling you away. “Come on!”

While getting pulled away, you kept turning around to watch as the man followed you, a determined look on his face as he tried to catch up. You were pulled up the stairs to the floor above and joined with the bodyguards you arrived with. 

The man remained at the bottom of the stairs, but he stared at you in disbelief.

“His name is Azul Ashengrotto, a hitman from the mafia your family fights against all the time! He’s the right-hand man,” Cater whispered to you, and you felt the smile on your face disappear. You stared down at the man but couldn’t utter a word.

“Is that…? No—they can’t be,” Azul whispered, still in disbelief.

After staring momentarily, you were pulled away, and Azul had to follow again. This continued, even with your head turning back a few times, just to meet the man following at a distance.

Azul stood at the casino door while you left, watching as your car left with a regretful expression in his eyes. “Not knowing and finding out too late—how the hell did we end up finding each other this way?” he said to himself as you stared back at him from the moving car, then he went back into the casino grounds.

After arriving home, you walked around your garden under the moonlight and sighed softly. You moved yourself to squat in front of the pool at the end of the concrete path, looking up at the moon. 

“Azul Ashengrotto… Who could he really be? What does his name have to do with anything?”

“The group that rivals my family name, but what is in that name? It’s not a hand, foot, or any other part belonging to me.” You stare down at your reflection in the water and smile softly at the thought of that man you had a slight moment with at the casino. 

You stand up and sigh, “Should he tell me he doesn’t like it, I would change it in a heartbeat—”

“Then should we change that name?”

You spin around and scream as he puts his hands on your arms, but the shock causes you to fall back into the pool with him. You quickly come up to the surface and spit out the water in your mouth, then stare at the pale indigo eyes on you.

“What are you doing here!? Did you follow me? If they see you, they’ll murder you!” You whispered loudly because of the panic, but your reaction made Azul laugh.

“That is the least of my worries.”

“But you’re the Ashengrotto, an ally of my mortal enemy—”

“I will neither, if you dislike it. What can they do to me?” He whispers the last part, moving closer and touching your cheek. “I was able to see you again. I’m satisfied with that. It’s better to be killed by their hatred than by the torture of not seeing you. You love me and I love you, so let them find me here. I want your love for as long as you’ll allow me to have it.”

You stare at his features for a moment before he kisses you softly, the quiet night enveloping the both of you. It was slow, but you could feel how he felt the same for you as you did him. The more time that passed, the more passion was being shared.

The pool water was warm, but the way he grabbed your hips with one hand and kept your head in place with the other gave you a chill down your spine, simply from how he made you feel. 

You pulled back after a while longer and felt your face burning, so you avoided looking at him. “The moon's light can only hide me so well, and now you’ve heard me speak tonight. Do you love me? I know that you’ll say yes, and I will take your word for it.”

You spoke while backing away to get out of the pool, and he followed, leaving kisses on your neck when he could. “If you love me, say it faithfully.”

“I swear by the moon—”

You sighed and pushed him back. “Don’t swear by her ever-changing beauty unless your love has conditions.”

“Then what do I swear by?” Azul asks, looking at you with confusion in his expression.

“Don’t swear at all. If you must, swear on yourself. If it comes from your heart, then I’ll believe you.”

“The love in my heart…” He whispers, then gives you light kisses again, but you quickly break it and turn away.

“Don’t. Although I enjoy this, I will have no joy in this promise tonight. It’s too soon, too rash, and—like a lightning strike—it will be gone too soon,” you said and climbed up the ladder to get out of the water, but his sudden call out made you stop.

“Will you leave me so unsatisfied?”

You turn around and look at him with surprise. “What satisfaction could you have tonight?”

“To tell me that your heart belongs to me”

He was right. He had declared his love for you, but you hadn’t done the same for him. Was this real? You smiled brightly and ran back into his arms, falling into the pool with him again.

“I gave it to you before you even asked!” You exclaimed before falling back in with him, your lips landing against his into an underwater kiss.

Coming up to the surface, you hear Cater calling for you around the house, and you shout. “I’ll be there!” You turn to Azul and pull him out, hurrying him to leave through a secret gate.

“I leave you with a few more words before good night. If you’ll allow me the honor of marriage, let me know tomorrow—in a way that I can visit you—where and what time we’ll marry,” you whisper with a smile and hold his hand through the iron bars of the gate.

Cater shouted again, and you could only shout once again. “I’m on my way!”

“May all of my fortune and my will always follow you. If you do not mean well, I beg you not to argue and leave me alone to grieve. I will send someone over to the casino tomorrow,” you told Azul before letting him go, not before giving him a kiss.

“I am yours, and you are mine. I’ll be happy to hear from you.”

“I hope you have a wonderful night.” You smiled again and ran off, and Azul walked off as well. Shortly after, you gasped to yourself and tried to find him again, rushing towards him.

“Azul!” you called out, catching his attention, and his smile only brightened your heart. “At what hour should I send for someone?”

“By 9 in the morning.”

“I won’t let you down. It’s an eternity until then.” You laugh softly and pull your necklace off you, giving it to him. He took it gladly and tightened his fist to avoid losing it.

“Good night, darling.” He said and walked away, looking back at you a few times until he was completely out of sight.

“A bittersweet sorrow that is parting, that I shall say ‘good night’ until tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Finally, you ran off into your home.

The next day, you were home alone, and you waited with anticipation for your cousin to arrive back to you. As soon as the door opened to your bedroom, you jumped up and saw Cater come in with a tired expression.

“Cater!”

“Oh, hey, cos,” he says and tucks himself into your bed, your expression turning into disappointment.

“Cater! What does my love say?”

“Your love? Oh! That negotiator guy,” he says, “… Hey, where are your parents?” Cater asked, looking at you with a cheeky smile.

“Where are my parents?” You sigh from frustration and pull the blankets off the kid. “Don't keep it from me any longer! What did Azul say!?”

Cater laughs before standing from the bed and going to your closet. He looks at your more formal clothing and then picks something out for you. “When you go out today, meet him at the church. There, a man waits to marry you later today.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement as you heard the news. You took the outfit into your hands and left to change, finding even more reason to leave your home today.

Arriving at the church, you noticed the cars parked in front were all the same. When you entered the wide chapel, your eyes instantly met his, and the warm golden lights illuminated the design.

You had always been here before, but how the room lit up now was mesmerizing. Seeing Azul made the moment even better because it was only you and him. You made your way down before meeting with him, and how sweet he was.

Speaking vows and promises while looking at your love in the eyes, you could finally understand why a wedding day was so important. You knew you would never forget this day even if fate decided to take you away tomorrow.

His hands held yours and carefully slipped a silver band on your finger. That was it. You were officially married to him.

“I love you,” you whispered, seeming as if now was a dream that would slip through your fingers.

“I love you too,” he responded, giving you a kiss to conceal it together.

Azul had to leave after that because his negotiation work was urgent, but he still ensured you arrived home safely.

Under that guise, Azul arrived at his own mafia’s headquarters. The room was a bit tense as he walked into his boss’ office, only to find a man tied on the marble floor. The room was dim and added to the atmosphere that the organization strived for.

At the snap of a finger, the man became unmasked, to reveal one of your relatives. Azul looked surprised but quickly had to hide it. 

“Boss. Is… this him?” Azul asked, looking his boss in the eye, but he was feeling a cold sweat for once.

“That’s right. You already know what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me, Ashengrotto.”

Azul nodded once and gestured to the guards to follow him with their victim, and he left behind them with a tense feeling. 

Your relative? One whom he now shared names with through his dearly beloved, but did he really want to kill this man? 

This man was a spy. Playing his organization like a game of chess, he could get away with it for a while, but his boss knew the truth from the beginning. The boss wasn’t an idiot, they wouldn’t be in the place they're in now if that was the case, so it wasn’t surprising.

This was different now, though.

Azul stared at this man’s back with hesitation. He didn’t want to do this to you, but this was his job. You knew that, too, but that wasn’t an excuse. Yet, if he didn’t do this, it was his life on the line along with this man.

You sat in your room while staring up at the statues of the Seven in your room, a warm smile on your face at the thought of your new husband, a lingering sadness that you couldn’t spend time with him.

“Oh, Seven… If only the stars could show me my husband now. If anything should happen, may the heavens take his soul and place it among the stars, so his radiance could illuminate the night, that not even the moon could compare,” you whispered to yourself while imagining Azul, causing you to smile more than you already were. “If only I could see him soon..”

Azul stood in front of the captured man with a bitter look in his eye. He called the guards off to be alone in the room, still hesitating about the choice in front of him.

“You know, you’re trembling… it’s obvious, buddy.” The man said with a laugh, his busted face still dripping some blood onto the floor.

Azul’s eyes widened, his voice slightly trembling. “What? Don’t say a word. Do not provoke me.”

“Why? Is the big man, Ashengrotto, finally scared?”

“Shut up—”

“What a baby. How the hell are you the right-hand man, if you can’t pull the trigger?”

“Don’t say anything else!”

“In my organization, you would’ve been killed for being this weak!”

“You don’t know a damn thing!” Azul yelled, swiftly taking out his gun and putting it to the man’s head. “Do you not wish to be saved? I can do that. I don’t want to do this. Not for…” His voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat.

“Don’t be fucking weak. Do it!” The man yelled, messing around with the assassin in front of him. This man knew what he was doing but didn’t know the consequences.

The gun was taken off its safety as Azul took a deep breath, putting his personal emotions aside and speaking quieter. “To my beloved relative by name… May the Seven help you.”

The man grew confused before he was met with darkness. The sound of the gun echoing through the large room was enough of a message that it was over, but guilt started to take over the new silence.

“Shit… What the hell did I do?’ Azul whispered to himself before dropping the gun and staring at the corpse in front of him with disbelief.

You stared at the statues once again with a confused look on your face, at a loss for how to react. It had been a few hours, but you had just been told the news about your relative being killed by your husband’s hand.

“Say it isn’t so? Seven, don’t betray my heart this way… Am I supposed to criticize my husband? Speak ill of him? For the love he had for me, am I supposed to think of him as a traitor? Give up his word for actions?” You spoke to yourself, pleading with the gods above to give you an answer, but you received nothing.

Your heart ached at the deafening silence, and not even your ancestors could help you in this. It felt like your bloodline was shaming you for confiding in a sworn enemy, but you couldn't control who you could love...

Was it truly so easy to blame yourself for this?

Azul had quickly become a target under your family’s watchful eye. He had to do something, and quickly. Azul stared out the window from his office before he took a breath and fixed his glasses, only coming up with one answer.

“Guards, take me to them. I’ll be staying the night. In the meantime, prepare a burial.” Azul said calmly before grabbing his coat and leaving quickly.

You sat on your bed and tilted your head, hugging one of the pillows while thinking. Your mother left you to rest for the night, and you took the opportunity to lock yourself in. You let out a sigh and slowly stood up.

“Am I supposed to deny him? Divorce him for what he did? What a cruel thing to do to someone I love,” you said to yourself, but then you heard footsteps come in through your window.

The sound immediately caught your attention, and you were met with Azul standing there with regret in his eyes. You slowly went closer without your eyes moving away, scared that he would disappear.

“I’m sorry,” Azul whispered, his already sad eyes becoming glassy with the tears he couldn’t keep back anymore. “I swear to you and the Seven above, I didn’t want to do it—”

“I believe you. I can see it in your eyes. It was either that… or death, right? I know how this business goes, but that still won’t stop me from loving you.” You responded just as quietly, then looked over his body to make sure he didn’t have any injuries. Just doing this made your heart race.

Your hands slid down his coat to take it off, the ruffling sound of it hitting the ground mixing with the sounds of breathing and pattering rain hitting the ground outside. It made you a bit relieved that he could reach you before the rain began, but your heart rate wasn’t slowing down.

You loosened his tie and took off a few buttons so he could relax, but you were nervous. You guess… it’s kind of late to be nervous when you’re already married to him. Regardless, your hands just went with the flow, even if you didn’t have any experience in this aspect.

Azul watched your movements carefully before he leaned closer, taking off his glasses in the process. Your eyes met his indigo irises, your hands made their way to his neck and shoulder, and your heart was about to explode.

You willingly closed the space and kissed him as you knew he was about to do the same to you, but he returned it so gently. It was different from the time you met at the casino or in the pool that same night, but it felt perfect. Neither of you wanted to let go.

Morning came too fast. Azul woke up to the harsh reality of what was going to happen today. Any slight movement he made easily woke you up, but you could only give a small groan since you weren’t ready to get up yet. That noise made him smile and laugh before he sat up to see how you slowly opened your eyes

“It’s too early, and not time for you to go.” You whispered with a tired voice, still exhausted from the events of the day prior. Azul quickly moved to hover above you within the blink of an eye as your words caused him to feel warm.

“Then let’s not get out of these sheets—delay the morning by never coming out. I can appreciate just how divine my spouse looks while you look up at me like that.” Azul began playfully, slowly becoming genuine and affectionate with his words.

Before you could respond, Cater ran into your room and closed the door behind him, causing Azul to fall off your bed from surprise. “Your mother is on the way! Quick!” He said with panic, swiftly moving around to help out.

Azul got all of his things and you let him escape from the window, following him onto the balcony. He pulled you into a kiss for a moment before letting you go. “Stay safe. I’m sorry for what I did.”

You shook your head and gave him a gentle smile, placing your lips against his for a few seconds. “I love you. I love you more than anything. My life is yours.”

“My love…” Azul said somberly and sighed, placing a small kiss on your forehead. You felt the emotion he was feeling by just the way he was acting, and it left you confused. You looked at him with concern before giving him your ring from the day before.

You kissed the engraving on the band before placing the ring in his palm. “Just be safe. I will try to find out if something grave is being planned in hopes of stopping it.”

Azul just stayed quiet before he pushed you back inside your bedroom and quietly left. That was it between you two for now. You stared at the bed in front of you as your stomach began to turn in a bad way, but you could only whisper something to yourself as you fixed the robe you had put on when rushing.

“Letting someone out and bringing light in—why do I have a feeling that it will be in vain?” 

Azul stood in the church that had become special to him less than twenty-four hours ago, holding a small bottle in the palm of his hand, along with your ring and necklace beside it.

There was a war going on outside. He was the head that they wanted to capture for killing your father’s brother, an eye for an eye, and he didn’t want you to be brought into it. He was thankful that you could forgive him and still keep your love, but he didn’t deserve it after making you grieve for the loss of a relative and the loss of his presence beside yours.

He made sure to kiss the ring and the cross charm from your necklace, before putting them both on and staring up at the painted murals from the church’s ceiling, a soft expression at the memory of exchanging vows that were so fresh to him.

Without much hesitance, Azul popped open the small container and dropped some pills into his palm. His boss gave him these after he proposed to fake his death until this was over, composing a plan once a certain number of their kin had been killed in his stead.

One, two, three. Pills disappeared as Azul swallowed them. The drugs were quick, as he felt his heart begin to slow down and his breathing was coming to struggle for air. The church echoed the sounds of his quick suffering, until turning as quiet as the sleeping city he committed his sins.

In the morning, Cater ran into your room to find you clutching your chest, but not a single tear in your eyes. You were more shocked than anything. Your father stopped the war at the moment of finding out that their target was dead. Your husband was dead.

Cater, who was breathing heavily from running, went over to your side with a saddened look, letting out a sigh at the immense despair he could feel around you. “Cos, I’m sorry, but now… what’s your plan?”

Silence.

Nothing was your plan. How could there be a plan? The love you harbored couldn’t be shared with the one you married anymore. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes, a hidden tear finally dropping down your cheek.

Cater noticed your silence and went to lock your door, “He’s laid to rest at the church. I’ll take you to him.” 

Your body was simply guided by Cater now. He dressed you the best way that he could, in a way that your parents wouldn’t find suspicious. You hadn’t uttered a word or looked at him, but instead kept yourself together as if it was taking its time to affect you.

Your parents believed that you were grieving over your uncle’s death, so they left you alone. With that, Cater could take you over to the church during the sunset hour.

When you arrived, he guided you in and let your eyes lay upon the empty cathedral. The door closed behind you as Cater didn’t step in to leave you on your own. Finally being by yourself, you could relax as tears filled your eyes at the sight of the bed at the end of the aisle.

You slowly made your way closer and closer, each step making a sound that echoed through the space. The closer you got, the more detailed his body became. With gentleness and care, your hand wrapped around his and it felt weird.

“My love, death hasn’t taken your warmth yet?” You speak quietly and caress his cheek while holding back your tears. “You look as if life is still within you, and a peaceful sleep is all that affects you,” you said while leaning down to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Even your lips are as warm as the day. How precious…”

You went quiet after and closed your eyes, letting out a small sob before covering your eyes with your hands. The tears ran down your cheeks before being wiped away, not wanting to cry too bad after.

“What a cruel world we were born into,” you say quietly to your husband’s body before you look up at the ceiling above you, memories flashing through your head. A smile finally showed on your face at the thought of Azul, like his face and name always had these days.

You looked down as you held something in your hand. A small dagger with a black shine to it. You placed the tip of the blade at your chest and pierced yourself with it, the pain not being at all the same as losing the love of your life. You only let out a small wince and looked down at your husband, only to find him with a look of horror and his eyes wide open.

“No, you—” Azul started but quickly reacted to sit up and pull you to lay down where he was, struggling breaths coming from you as the blood seeped out of your wound. Azul tried to take it out, but your grip on the handle was strong even though your body was growing weak.

“What—” You whispered, tears falling down from your eyes as you tried to think, but you could only stare at Azul with a blurry vision from how fast your life was being taken away from you. “Why…?”

“Why? To protect you. Why would you follow me?” Azul asked with tears coming up to his own eyes. He held you tightly as if that would stop the slow death you were experiencing, but he wasn’t doing anything. He couldn’t. “Why wouldn’t you want to live?”

“Live…” You whispered, your slow blinking accompanied by a small smile only made this more bitter than it was, a gasp coming from you before you spoke again. “I couldn’t live without you.”

These words were soon followed by silence. A quiet breath was let go from you. Your body grew limp and still. Your hands had finally let go of the dagger that had you inflicted on yourself, but it was too late.

Azul just stared in a still stance, still holding you. He waited for something. Anything. A sign of life. Something to check if you were still there with him. When he didn’t get anything, he let out loud sobs while holding your lifeless body close to him, even putting out a few screams from the agony that surrounded his heart.

Every sound and movement he made echoed and pierced his ears with desperation and regret. If only he had told you the plan. If only he ran away with you instead, you would still be alive and smiling at him.

After his moment of grieving, he looked up and down at you, but then his eyes stopped at the blood-stained clothes you had on. His eyes locked onto the dagger before he carefully pulled it out and stared at the blade. 

The question he asked you earlier wasn’t in his mind anymore. Even if he stayed alive, he would die at the hands of your family once they realized that he was alive and that you died with him beside you. He couldn’t live without you either.

He stared at you for a moment before he took your hand into his and he closed his eyes. He placed the dagger against his neck and let out a breath before his body fell right next to yours, and a deafening silence befell them.

Two lovers. Both alike in dignity, now gone in mere moments from their organization’s strife. Young adults with so much more to life and love to share, could not stop the rage of others. A love story that ended so tragically changed the outcome of the respectful lives that they could’ve had.

[twstbookclub]

Petals of Poison

TW: Blood and major character death/s

Summary: Hanahaki Disease. Taking innocent, unrequited love and crushing the life of the unfortunate. This is not a happy story. Don't expect a good ending. POV: 2nd Pronouns: Gender neutral Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Epel Felmier, hanahaki disease, star tear disease, heavy angst Word count: 2,958

Being 100% truthful... I cried writing this, and I got super depressed after lol. I've never done Hanahaki disease as a trope but I've read about it. I've only heard about Star Tear disease and it's very rare to use, but it's a sister trope to Hanahaki.

The person afflicted with Star Tear will cry stars, and slowly become blind, but it isn't like Hanahaki where the affected goes back to normal. No. The person keeps the damage.

I hope you all enjoy this Epel angst and trust me, this is still pretty light, even with a character death. This one didn't take me too long but it took a lot of planning and adding, truly one of my proudest works.

Petals of red carnations and aster spilled onto Epel’s hand on such a bright morning, the sun shining through his windows and lighting up his room beautifully. His face looked shocked and panicked, but he wasn’t in an urge to figure out what was wrong. He dropped the petals out of his hand and saw a small splatter of blood in his palm, but once again, no immediate reaction. He only sighed and got ready for his morning.

It was never like this, but not uncommon to one’s knowledge, either. In this world, magic and myth were big things, and the Isle of Sages was no stranger. Recently, the town had been talking about cases of victims who had recently passed away due to unnatural causes. Unnatural, being that their lungs were filled with roots and flowers, marking their deaths as undetermined in autopsy reports. 

Rumors had been circulating that these victims were in love with others, but never received the love back, then were found dead just days later with the same scenes as the others. The Isle began to find death as common as finding a penny on the ground, but still as tragic as ever for these young lives. Epel could be the next.

He did have someone he loved, but being in the same year as you meant nothing. You barely looked at him, only hung out together when he was invited, and you were completely out of his league. Not even close.

This had started months ago. Epel had met you at the mirror chamber on orientation day, and he became pretty curious. You weren’t from this world, yet you looked like you fit right in, too. You were quiet and confused, which he found interesting, but he would only see you from afar for now.

He was finally able to get close to you, but his attention was easily taken when Deuce started calling him a girl. At that moment, he heard your laugh. It was a beautiful sound that he had no idea would bless his ears the way it did.

One day, you came into the Pomefiore dorm, catching them teaching him about proper tea etiquette and rules. When Rook corrected him, he quickly grew embarrassed and stuttered slightly before fixing himself, hoping that you hadn’t seen him mess up. He didn’t need you to not find him able. He wanted you to like him.

Coming back from winter break, Epel hadn’t stopped thinking about you for any moment of the day. He began to doubt if you liked him, especially after seeing him mess up during classes and after-school clubs. As soon as he arrived back, he was met with more flight training and prim etiquette.

He was running through campus while trying to run away from his housewarden and vice-housewarden, not exactly caring where he was running. Suddenly, Epel felt a hard chest and fell over with a loud wham to the ground. He could only sniffle and rub his head from the pain. When Epel looked up, he saw your eyes on him in concern, and he felt himself become frozen, frustrated with himself about the situation before him. 

Deuce offered to help him, but Epel looked away and mumbled “dagnabit” under his breath. The other first-year grew confused and repeated what Epel had said, but Felmier felt embarrassed for looking so pathetic in front of you. Before Deuce knew it, Epel ran off and disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.  You were left with confusion and questions but didn’t pay much attention to it once he was gone. 

Once he was gone and in a place where one could see him, he felt a slight clog in his throat and coughed, surprised to see a few petals of aster and white carnations fall onto the ground at his feet. “Flowers? What in the…” He whispered with a confused tone, and he didn’t know where this had even come from. 

Soon, he was singing to practice for the Song and Dance Championship behind some bushes, but he coughed and sighed when he couldn’t reach enough, causing some small petals to spill onto the grass. When he heard the voices of others, he perked up and turned around, his eyes landing on you. 

Did you hear that? Oh, for the love of the Seven, please tell me you didn’t hear that.

You only stared at him as he interacted with your friends, but the thought of you finding him in such a pathetic scene lingered in his mind. He didn’t need you to look at him and laugh, especially not after everyone else found him cute and small. After witnessing how his housewarden kicked the asses of the other first years, Epel took a glance at you before being dragged away into more practice.

As soon as he entered the door to Pomefiore, he covered his mouth and coughed up more petals, the sound grabbing the attention of Vil and a few others who were in the lounge. Aster and… Red carnations. This one was new, but his heart did ache. It ached with a pain that poked in his chest, yet the bright red mixed with the purple and pink petals of aster felt comforting.

He felt something for you. He knew you probably wouldn’t like someone as pathetic and hard-driven as he was, not with this small body and cute face. He couldn’t get his hopes up.

Epel had caught himself coughing these petals now and then, but on rare occasions, a few of them had blood spots, nothing too concerning. At the same time, more and more cases of citizens being found dead, surrounded by flowers and roots, were becoming big online. Everyone made this phenomenon have a name, Hanahaki Disease, and it was spreading like wildfire. 

No one could figure out its symptoms. Other’s tried, but would get shut down about their theories. One person, at least every week, was in the headlines about this. Police thought it was a serial killer laying down his victims in a beautiful way, and citizens thought it was karma towards the person who died.

Epel’s symptoms only got worse the more you were around him and looked at him. You spoke to him in such a kind way, treating him as your friend. He noticed that your uniform and face had different sizes and colors of stars. He found it cute and it suited you, at least in his eyes.

Right. Only a friend.

He kept his feelings hidden, and it was only right. Epel knew the situation, and he was okay with it. You didn’t belong in this world in the first place, nothing wrong there. He had a life and family waiting for him in his hometown. He had to get over this.

But the world gave him no time.

Crowley had summoned everyone to the mirror chamber to bid you farewell. You were leaving. No warning. No time. Something felt wrong, and Epel ran to be able to hug you first. Everyone surrounded you two after that. 

Epel heard a twinkling sound, so he looked at you and noticed how small stars were on your cheeks. He was confused, what was even happening? He noticed these stars before, but they came from your eyes this time? He couldn’t ask, not before Crowley had to break it up before the portal closed.

As you looked at everyone one more time, “Come back here soon!” Epel screamed, making everyone slowly begin to agree with him. Then, you left. That was it. Your presence was there, but not your body or soul.

It was a moment of sorrows and grief, which only equaled to Epel coughing up blood-spattered petals of marigolds and purple hyacinth flowers into a napkin. He could tell that this was getting worse, but what in the world could he even do?

Epel spent that night trying to distract himself by researching everything he could about this Hanahaki Disease, coughing up occasional petals. He had found a few stories of victims who survived the disease, reading about how the symptoms stopped after they got together with the person that they loved. 

Reading more about how it got worse if one believed that the other didn’t like them back, but after a certain point, even thinking about the person they loved made the symptoms dire. There was no natural cure, at least not from what was written, but Epel did find something.

Surgery.

Getting surgery to make it go away. 

No.

That’s all Epel needed to read. He wanted nothing else about that subject to come up. It was absurd, even for the most desperate of people. Brain surgery to make the symptoms go away, but you’d forget about all the feelings you felt for the person. He could never, not when it was about you. 

Suddenly, he became curious. The scene from earlier crossed his mind.

Why does someone cry stars?

He searched it up, but… Nothing. Unknown. Sites to just people boasting about how their tears have the sparkle of stars, but it wasn’t the same. You had the shape of stars coming out of your eyes, and they were beautiful.

Epel sighed and shut his phone off. He didn’t need to see anything else for the rest of the night.

For a few weeks, the campus was in an awkward atmosphere due to your leaving, but soon enough, everyone began going back to normal. Not Epel, though. He missed you the most when he sat on his bed after school. He constantly thought about how you could be doing and wondered if you were ever thinking of him. 

He began to smile while thinking about you, remembering every moment he did get to save with you. His birthday, campus traditions, especially being there to watch him perform for the Song and Dance Championship. Thinking about everything made him suddenly gag and the next thing he knew, a pool of blood and different petals were at his feet.

His eyes were wide, but he vomited more blood, less petals. The puddle was red but cluttered with red and white carnations, mixes of purple and pink aster, yellow daffodils, and violet-blue salvia. This was the worst that his condition had gotten. Epel fell back and clutched his chest, trying to breathe silently but with enough force to get himself back on track. It was a silent night after that.

Time would come to take their youth, and before any of the first years knew it, it was graduation day. The day was bright and looking pretty on a day like that, and it kind of made the day better.

The ceremony had gone well, with old students coming back to congratulate and celebrate with the other students, and professors even admitting that they’d miss some students.

After all celebrations were over though, Epel stayed on the campus grounds, standing at the well that caused him the most time with you. He simply stared down the well, letting the sunset almost blind his vision. One memory of you caused a loud cough and blood to spill from his mouth, petals following after. 

It hurt. The pain grew worse than ever before. He’d rather suffer than forget the love he felt for you. His body was falling, faltering to keep itself up, and he landed on his back against the ground.

“The love I feel for you… Is so beautiful, but—” He whispered, petals of sweet peas falling from the sides of his mouth now as his coughs got shorter and harsher. “I can’t breathe.”

Epel could only clutch his chest as he tried to find the proper breathing pattern. He looked up at the sky and wiped the excess blood from his mouth. He smiled. Like he always did when he thought of you.

Epel could cry. He could feel it. You were so close. Just a little farther.

The sounds of struggling became quieter, and a bed of flowers grew. Cyclamens, sweet peas, heliotropes, white carnations, crimson roses, forget-me-nots, and black roses all grew from the ground. Its roots and vines surrounded the body of a recently graduated boy, who simply loved someone that he knew he couldn't have.

Epel looked like a charming prince with how peaceful he looked.

The world was cruel. Too cruel even.

Those young adults, now grown up, were gathered in a reserved restaurant. They all stood up when they heard the door, Silver bringing you in.

You carried a white cane and carefully moved it around, your eyes staring forward with occasional blinks. Everyone knew the situation, but there was still a tension that you could feel by just sensing it.

Your irises were close to white but had a faint hue of your original eye color. You were blind. You had explained to everyone before that you had “Star Tear Disease”, which explained why you cried stars when you left the world of Twisted Wonderland that day.

It was rare. Only a few had it, and you were the unlucky one that did. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but you smiled nonetheless. It had been years since you had last been with the boys, and you were quite excited to meet them again.

“I'm fine, guys. It's just a little impairment, but I'm still me.”

The room stayed quiet, and slowly, one by one, they all came up to let you touch their faces and reintroduce themselves. Ace tried making you laugh by contorting his face, but you hit his shoulder. “Hey! Quit that. I'll pull your ear if you keep doing it.”

Goofball as always.

Once everyone had a turn, you felt weird. Someone was missing, and you slowly made your way around the table. An empty chair.

“Who's missing?” You asked, clutching the arm of the chair.

Silence once again. No one wanted to tell you, so you remembered everyone to figure it out.

Your body froze as you realized it, but you could feel your heart drop. “Epel.”

Tension grew in the room again and you could hear a sigh, then followed by Leona. “He's dead.”

Whispers with the others calling out Leona for saying it, but he simply grew irritated with their lack of sense. “Oi, what the hell are we supposed to do, eh? Keep it from them? They're blind for Seven's sake!”

“You didn't have to say it so bluntly—” Followed Lilia, not wanting everything to become a problem.

“All of you, shut up!” You yelled, the starry tears forming in your eyes as you clutched the chair harder, digging your nails into the wood.

Everyone went mute. You couldn't even believe it. 

“How...” You whispered, the sound of twinkling from your tears filling the eerily quiet room. “How did he die and when?”

Deuce stood from his chair this time. “On our graduation day. He died of some… illness called Hanahaki Disease.” 

Your world was crumbling. Hanahaki Disease. You heard of it in your world. It was made of fiction, but who knew it'd be turned into reality. The same could be said for Star Tear Disease, but you developed it here, and it followed you into your world.

You let out a few tears as you kept thinking, your arms practically wrapped around the chair. “Who was the cause? One of you knows.”

Vil spoke as he moved closer, trying to be careful with you. “That part isn’t necessary for you to know—”

“It was you. Vil told us all after he died.” The gruff voice from Malleus filled the room with those three words, and they somehow sounded painstakingly beautiful. Vil’s breathing pattern changed once the truth was revealed. You knew those words were true.

“... Take me to his grave.” You asked after a short moment of silence, sounding like you were pleading, so they took you.

Standing in front of it now, you gently touched the tomb, then the texture of the cement, until your hands touched the lettering.

“E P E L   F E L M I E R”

It had his dates, a small obituary, and designs of apple trees. It all felt cool to the touch. You could only imagine it, but then you remembered that you brought something.

A flower bouquet. Baby's breaths, blue salvia, lavender roses, and cyclamens were composed neatly, you could feel it. Anything for him, especially since he meant so much.

“Hey Epel…” You whispered, kneeling down in front of the tomb. You took a breath and it was already hard, the disease making your eyes sting. “You know, you're the only one I didn't get to touch today.”

“I'm sure you look the same. You never changed.” You said with a smile, gently feeling the cold cement under your fingers. You heard his laugh in your ears, imagined his smile, and you felt a warmth on your hand. His warmth. You knew it.

At that moment, you began to cough really hard, blood spilling onto your hand and petals came out of your mouth. You were unfazed. You knew what this was. 

You set down the bouquet and moved to sit on top of his grave, leaning back against the tombstone as you felt a sharp pain around your ankles.

“Why didn't you tell me? I loved you too. That's unfair…” You whispered softly, feeling your eyes close as your breath struggled slightly.

“We could've survived together.” You said with a faint voice, your body becoming lifeless as your hands and ankles were tied down with vines.

Red roses, carnations, and aster grew on the vines. The twinkling of your tears filled the soundless cemetery, stopping with a drop of a star on your clothes.

[twstbookclub]

Fleeting Dreams and Paper Rings

Summary: Silver's eyes always remained on you. His memories of you were filled with sunflowers, the warm afternoon sun, and paper rings. His hand always sought yours, and the thin band of gold on your ring finger stirred his heart more than anything else. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Childhood Love, Unrequited Feelings, Silver Being Too Understanding, Diasomnia Found Family Cameo, Mentioned Vil and Neige, Mentioned Event from Book 5 (no major spoilers), Silver's POV Word Count: 2, 085 The way I struggled thinking of angst for this guy. Fluff is easy with him, but angst? Book 7 is already giving this boy a struggle, and I'm already teetering on the edge of the cliff with this. I'm not sure if this is any good, but I hope yall enjoy it at least. Silver is literally giving fairytale, woodland prince vibes. I'm going to drown this man in fairytale energy, even if it's the last thing I do.

“Silver, c’mere!” Your giggles echoed across a field of sunflowers. The young boy, whose hair glimmered like his namesake, waded through the yellow blooms with a curious look. Silver aurora eyes stared at your smile, stretched from one ear to the other.

Small, chubby hands reached out to place something soft on top of Silver’s head. It also tickled and pricked his forehead. The warm, summer air rustled his silver locks, and his own tiny hands clutched the ring of flowers that adorned his hair. Gentle fingers touched the petals of the sunflowers woven among the stems. A few leaves poked his skin, but he didn’t mind.

“Yay! It looks pretty on you,” you told him with a giggle. Silver watched you clasp your hands behind your back, as you looked at him with a bright beam. “I asked Lilia to teach me how to make flower crowns. Do you like it?”

His cheeks grew warm, not hot to the touch yet enough to color his pale skin. He imagined that knowing look in his father’s eyes. It was an innocent request, most likely born from a wish to make a beautiful gift. As young as the child was, Silver was already aware of his father’s mischievous tendencies.

Without lingering on the thought, he nodded and murmured, “I like it. Thank you…”

The edges of your eyes crinkled, hiding behind the chub of your cheeks. A laugh rang in the silent field of flowers, and Silver was reminded of the tinkling noises of the diurnal fae. You clapped your hands and tugged him to sit down with you. Another story sat at the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be shared with the boy you met in the forest one day. Somehow, you two became inseparable afterwards.

As the sunflowers swayed in the wind, carrying its fragrance and heralding the beginning of summer, the little boy thought your smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“Silver!”

Gone was the chub in your cheeks, yet your smile remained. Ten-year-old you and Silver sat in his father’s study: trinkets, books, and scrolls bearing untold tales of travel and war within its cabin walls. Scraps of colorful paper, either torn or crumpled or both, littered the mahogany table. Silver noticed that the bright sunlight that illuminated the room glowed with a soft orange now.

“Yes?” He asked, turning to you, only to be met with another wide smile and an excited gleam in your eyes. A paper ring sat in between your thumb and index finger. It was shoddy, obviously the work of a child, but you showed it to him as if it was gold that you unearthed yourself.

“I finally made one!” You cheered, before you beckoned him to give his hand to you. Silver did so without a complaint, and you slid the paper ring on one of his fingers. His heart skipped a beat as your fingers brushed his. He silently prayed that you didn’t hear his breath hitch in his throat. The silence seemed to make him more conscious of his own breathing and heart and everything.

Silver couldn’t help but notice that you put the ring on his left finger, right next to his pinky. He vaguely remembered his father telling him about an ancient belief; how a vein in this finger ran directly to the heart. He didn’t understand it, but his young mind interpreted it as the finger being related to the organ in some way.

“Mommy and daddy both have rings on this finger,” you explained without a falter in your smile. “They said you give someone you really love a ring here. Something about marrying the person you want to be with for life.”

As you looked into his eyes, your smile grew wider, if that was possible. Silver owlishly blinked, listening to your every word amidst the confusing warmth in his chest. His heart thudded, beating loud in his ears. He stared at you without so much as a twitch in his expression, despite what he currently felt.

“Let’s get married when we’re older! I want to have more fun and happy days with you for the rest of my life!”

You cradled Silver’s hand as if it was glass, fragile and valuable. It reminded him of the time when you held a glass of apple juice that Lilia had given you once. Silver felt as if the words would spill out of his mouth, anyway.

“Okay,” he answered softly. The wind could have drowned out his voice, but it rang clear in the quiet study. “I promise. We’ll get married when we’re older.”

You cheered, giggling and laughing and clutching Silver’s hand. Even if it was made of paper, he treasured the ring like a diamond that sparkled under the sun. Even if these were words being exchanged by naive and ignorant children, he held the promise close to his heart.

That day, Silver kept the ring in an empty cookie tin next to the flower crown. Time had not been kind to the gift from his early childhood. The sunflowers have long wilted, and the stems browned and became brittle. The petals and leaves crumbled under a feather-light touch.

Still, the silver-haired boy smiled and kept his treasures next to his bed.

“Silver,” you whispered, standing close to the tall teenager. Your arm brushed against his, while you avoided bumping into the scores of people that flocked Main Street. “It’s really crowded this year, huh?”

Night Raven College opened its gates to the public for the school festival, particularly for the Vocal and Dance Championship—VDC, for short. Silver invited you to the same event last year, and you enjoyed the variety of snacks and games offered by the students. You two even managed to get tickets for VDC then. He thought of inviting you to this year’s school festival. Although, he didn’t expect the surge of visitors this time.

“I’m sorry.” Silver gave you an apologetic smile as he tugged you by the arm. You were pulled away from some squealing and tittering girls that rushed through the crowd. They were screaming about VDC tickets, Vil, and Neige. Fangirls, Silver presumed.

“I didn’t anticipate that this year’s VDC would garner this much attention. Forgive me,” he apologized with a furrow of his brows and a quirk of his lips. His heart skipped a beat when you shook your head and grinned at him.

You never failed to make Silver’s heart do flips and cartwheels with that smile of yours.

“It’s fine,” you hummed and tugged his sleeve with a sheepish smile now, “but… Can you hold my hand, please? I don’t want to lose you in this crowd.”

Silver didn’t hesitate. His hand slid from your arm to your own hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. With a gentle squeeze, he answered, “Of course. Let’s go, then. I still have so much to show you, and we should search for Father while we’re at it.”

“Can we get cotton candy or ice cream on the way? Maybe both?”

You squeezed his hand in return, and that was all Silver needed. Heart fluttering and gaze softening at the sight of you, he pulled you along the street—as if you two were toddlers walking in the sunflower field again.

“Silver,” you called his name in a breathless whisper. Dressed in white silk that dripped with gold, you stood in front of your childhood friend with teary eyes and a wobbly smile. Your hands squeezed his, calloused from years of training under his father’s swordsmanship. His heart stuttered, and his breath hitched at the faint crack in your voice.

Before Silver knew it, you two moved beyond your teenage years. Time took away the awkward slouch of your shoulders and the lopsided quirk of your lips. The years had been kind to you, gracing you with a confident smile that made your face glow softly. Although, that confidence was replaced with something akin to heartfelt pride and joy at the moment.

“Yes?” He whispered in return, soft and warm and fragile. He squeezed your hands back, as if afraid to let you go. Another giggle. Another smile, one that reminded him of the days when you two were simply naive children. The familiar skip of his heartbeat merely softened the smile on Silver’s face.

“Thank you,” you gripped his hands as your lips quivered more and tears gathered in your eyes, “for everything.”

Silver’s heart twinged, before he reached out to wipe your tears away with a thumb. He never let go of your hand the entire time.

Love was sitting in a field of sunflowers and making flower crowns with clumsy, chubby hands in the summer. Love was making paper rings and exchanging promises of marriage in the cabin Silver and his father shared. Love was the taste of cotton candy and ice cream during a festival filled with fireworks and songs.

Love was watching an unrequited love give what was once yours to another—accepting it with a saccharine smile and a bittersweet sting in the heart.

“Of course.” The words easily rolled off Silver’s tongue, like dew sliding off a rose petal. He saw your smile widen, stretching from one ear to the other. Streaks of sunlight illuminated your dressing room, marble and glass encased in the golden glow of morning. Your eyes sparkled like jewels under the light, which reminded him of the diamond-studded band that once sat on your left ring finger.

Silver couldn’t help but let the memory of your paper ring overlap with the engagement ring from Kalim, one of his closest friends.

Before he could say anything else, a chorus of voices called for your name. Both of you turned towards the door where Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek waited. The youngest of the fae had pinched eyebrows and a scowl marring his features. Meanwhile, smiles brightened Lilia’s and Malleus’ faces. The latter appeared happier than the one who was getting married, most likely due to the invitation.

“It’s about to start,” Lilia reminded you with crossed arms and a tilt of his head. Sebek followed with a shrill, “Silver, stop dawdling around! You’re going to bring shame to Lord Malleus and Master Lilia for delaying the celebration!”

“Now, now, Sebek,” Malleus hummed with eyes narrowed in glee and a hand on his chin, “this is a union between Silver’s two friends, after all. Let him spend a few more minutes giving his well-wishes to one of them.”

Lilia tittered, while Sebek relented with a disgruntled, “Of course, Lord Malleus.”

You laughed, the jovial sound bouncing around the marble walls. Silver gawked, drinking in the curve of your smile and the unbridled joy in your eyes. With another squeeze and a tearful goodbye, you left the dressing room with a swish of fabric. Silver let your hands slip from his grasp with a single thought.

He didn’t have the heart to take your happiness away. He couldn’t. He can’t.

His father’s words and the retreating footsteps were all white noise to him. The silver-haired man stared at the empty space you once occupied. Magenta highlights and black locks swayed as Lilia took your place with a few steps. 

A hint of worry shone in those raspberry red eyes, usually brimming with affection for Silver. They still did—they always will. Lilia tilted his head back to look into his son’s eyes, glazed over with a myriad of emotions.

How could a father watch his son crumble where he stood, crushed by the weight of his feelings and loyalty for his friends? Lilia lived a long life—witnessed and experienced more than the average person, whether human or fae—but nothing compared to witnessing his child’s despair.

“Come now,” Lilia whispered with a hand clapping Silver’s shoulder, “you’re the best man, son. You must take your place before the wedding begins.”

“I know, Father,” Silver choked the words out and pressed the heel of his palm over his eye. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Lilia squeezed his shoulder, before he offered a handkerchief from his coat pocket.

With a trembling hand, Silver accepted the square cloth with a quiet, “Thank you. Just… give me some time to recompose myself.”

Choked sobs disturbed the joyous air of a grand, long-awaited ceremony. In the silence of the dressing room, minutes before the beginning of a new chapter for two lovers, a father witnessed the bitter end of his son’s story with his childhood love.

[twstbookclub]

Parallel Lines

Summary: Close friends, but nothing more. Parallel lines, but never touching. POV: 2nd Pronouns: Gender neutral Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Kalim Al-Asim, light angst, parallel lines trope, I took this one easy, be grateful that this is gentle cause I cried writing the next two Word count: 799

enjoy the lighter angst from me this time because the next two will... destroy the respective stans :)

Laughs and cheers filled the open room. You liked being in Scarabia, even with the sand and dry weather at times, but you were mostly there for Kalim. The housewarden became your friend the moment he could talk to you one-on-one. You felt drawn to him. It was a natural course, but all of that had its own consequences.

Kalim perked up when he was finally able to meet you. He talked to you with so much energy, and you responded the same way. Someone could catch up with his mood, which was the best thing for him. He constantly talked to you and got excited about spending time with you. It felt so right, but there was still some… unspoken distance.

You were a person that didn’t belong in the world of Twisted Wonderland. You were simply wasting the days away in this universe while Headmaster Crowley searched for a way home for you.

Kalim Al-Asim was of high status, a relative of the Scalding Sands royal family. Coming from a big family and having his guard—or friend, depending on what you wish to call his attendant Jamil. He was of a different standing, similar to the future king of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia.

There was an apparent wall between them. They were separated by an invisible glass with holes just so they could talk, but they became best friends with the snap of a finger. Everyone around them would comment on how easily they made each other laugh and brighten everyone’s mood.

Some even suggested dating because “You two are perfect for each other,” but that was much easier said than done. You were aware of that. Kalim was aware of it, too.

You liked Kalim for his bright smile and shining energy. He was like a golden retriever boyfriend that you always heard about in your world. He was genuinely kind and always helped you or kept you company.

Kalim liked you for your diligence and kindness. You didn't take advantage of his good intentions, and that was enough for him to accept you. He liked the conversations and hangouts that you would have with him.

You were restless, and he was restless with you. Sleeping in class was usually done together. You and Kalim were like parallel lines.

But parallel lines are close, but never touching.

Knowing the circumstances, there was a line that neither of you could cross, but it was established without even needing to talk about it. You understood his situation, while he understood yours.

Kalim had his life set for him back in his homeland. You had an entire life waiting for you back in your world, too.

“Kaliiiiiiim!” You yelled, looking through the halls of Scarabia's dormitory. The cool wind of the night in the desert was a drastic comparison to how hot it was in the day, but you couldn't complain when you could see Kalim's smile.

He stepped out of his dorm room just moments later, surprised at how you called his name like that. “Hey! What's going on? You're screaming as if I took the last ice cream from the freezer.” 

His joke made you laugh, and you held up a building set, knowing you liked doing it with him. “Building set. Over 500 pieces. Should we all-nighter this thing!?” You asked excitedly, watching Kalim's face light up as he got hyped.

“Should we!? What kind of question is that? We have to. Come on!” Kalim exclaimed and took you into his room before he started to clear off a space on the floor.

You set down the box and looked around for a lollipop. You left a few the last time and grabbed one to snack on so the sugar could keep you awake. After, your eyes fell on Kalim, and he was still cleaning the floor, but he had a wide smile.

Once he was done, he noticed your eyes stuck on him. He laughed lightly. “You look weird staring at me like that. What's wrong?”

You stay quiet and take the lollipop out of your mouth, giving him a light smile. “I like how we are, Kalim. Can we never change?”

Your question made Kalim's smile falter. He blinked a few times and stayed quiet, too, then gave you a cheeky smile again. “I don't want to change, either. Why would we?”

You began to laugh and tilt your head. “You're right. How dumb of me,” you said playfully and stared at him for a little. Kalim stared right back and didn't break it for a moment. His red eyes showed the brightest light that an iris could hold.

Parallel lines. They're always close, but they never touch, never cross. Just like the two teens in this very room. Close friends, but nothing more.

[twstbookclub]

Sharp Teeth, Tough Love

Summary: You caught Floyd's interest the moment fire and chaos erupted in the Mirror Chamber. One chance meeting gave you the nickname Shrimpy, and another left Floyd sinking deeper into the depths. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Floyd Being Floyd, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce and Grim Shenanigans again, Unrequited Feelings, Floyd's POV (I hope yall remember whose nickname belongs to who) Word Count: 3, 044 If yall needed to know, I wrote this on the same day I wrote the Riddle fic. My brain is spent on these two, and I couldn't be any happier. I wish I could end this another way, though. Poor terrifying and violent Floyd. One thing to note, it's really fascinating how he only calls someone by name if he really respected them. Also, if yall catch that reference to one of Floyd's lesson chats, I will love you forever. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy again 💕

Floyd could never forget the first time he saw you.

Your face was twisted into a flabbergasted frown, mingled with distress, confusion, and exasperation. The cat monster—he’ll call it Baby Seal since its tiny height and gray fur reminded him of one—ran amok and spewed fire everywhere. Kalim’s screams rang in the air, followed by Crowley’s indignant shouts. He watched the chaos unfold with intrigued eyes and a widening grin, revealing sharp teeth and a thirst for more wreckage.

Amidst the smoke that billowed and swirled in the Mirror Chamber, you stood in the middle of it. The harsh glow of the fire pierced Floyd’s eyes, but all he saw was your silhouette surrounded by dying embers and crackling flames. Just as his gaze landed on you, your head swiveled around to look back at him. As if some invisible force compelled you to find the eyes that burned into your figure.

He wanted to see you again.

The next time he saw you, you were with Baby Seal and those two freshmen in Heartslabyul: Crabby and Little Mackerel. Even Goldfish and Sea Bream were with you. The six of you lurked in the courtyard, as if trying to spy on something. Whatever you were doing, it caught his attention.

“Careful, Floyd,” Jade simpered after he followed his brother’s line of sight, “don’t scare the fish away.”

Of course, Jade already knew what Floyd was thinking with one look. There was a reason why they chose each other and survived the coldest, harshest waters.

“Yeah, yeah.” Floyd flippantly waved away Jade’s words with a languid grin, before he snuck on the group. It was laughable, how they didn’t notice his tall and gangly figure slink in front of them. The six students spoke in hushed whispers, too engrossed in their conversation to see the shadow that loomed over them. His eyes roamed each freshman, checking the fresh meat, but they lingered on you.

You looked so small, and he had to tilt his head down to see your eyes. Back then, during the entrance ceremony, you hunched over as if to curl into yourself. Small and weak and afraid.

Floyd’s lips stretched from one ear to the other. He’ll call you Shrimpy.

“Oh ho ho! What is up, Lil’ Goldfish?”

Goldfish jumped, sputtering and floundering like a fish caught by its prey. The rest showed varying degrees of surprise. Sea Bream’s smile became strained, and Floyd could see the junior sweat a little. Crabby flinched, while Little Mackerel took a step back with wide eyes. His fists were raised to his chest, and Floyd’s eyes narrowed at that.

Huh, one of them was ready for a fight. Interesting.

His attention shifted to you, wide eyes fluttering in disbelief. You craned your neck to look up at him with parted lips. As Floyd engaged Goldfish in a conversation more like interrogation, he felt like he was floating. It’s as if he could run around the track field without breaking a sweat from the look you gave him.

He wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see you more.

Your gaze drifted to Jade, and you froze. Floyd brushed it off as fear. That was how people usually reacted to them, anyway. It was nothing new. He focused on the conversation with Goldfish without sparing your reaction another thought.

One sunny day, a few days after that chance meeting, Floyd saw you in the courtyard again. You were with Baby Seal—he always was—along with Crabby and Little Mackerel. The latter two stood in front of you, who sat on the edge of the fountain. Baby Seal was standing next to you with this annoyed look. Meanwhile, the Leech brother was lounging on the grass. Alchemy class bored him, so he decided to skip and bathe in the sunlight on the courtyard.

None of them seemed to notice him. Floyd watched, still bored out of his mind. He was debating on whether to spook the group or otherwise, when he heard you laugh.

You tilted your head back, letting the sun illuminate the smile on your face. It was a toothy grin, one that crinkled your eyes and emphasized the chub of your cheeks. He barely saw the color of your irises, and your unrestrained laugh echoed in the desolate courtyard. You even snorted.

You tilted your head back so much that you tipped over and fell into the fountain with a loud splash. Floyd snickered, ignoring the warmth in his chest and the flutter of his heart. Howling laughter followed your fall. Crabby clutched his stomach and doubled over. Little Mackerel held back a smile as he flailed, unsure of how to help you, in front of the fountain. Baby Seal was laughing his ass off, belly flopping on the edge of the fountain.

He decided to stand from his spot and help you, since the entire thing entertained him. Although, when he stood tall and took a step towards the fountain, he paused. You were drenched in water, from the top of your head to the tip of your leather shoes. Locks of hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks. Your uniform clung to your skin, and it looked uncomfortable. Despite all that, your smile remained.

“You assholes!” You laughed with a loud wheeze, happy and carefree with that toothy and blinding grin. He could clearly hear you laugh and sputter, even with Crabby’s and Baby Seal’s loud snickers and laughter. As he watched Little Mackerel help you—and fail, because you slipped back into the fountain—a thought nagged at his mind. 

What should I do to make Shrimpy laugh like that again?

“Hey, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, grin too wide and sharp to be considered friendly. Little Mackerel and Crabby stepped back, as the sophomore grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the fountain. Your hand shot out to grip the edge, while you stood from the water.

“Need a lil’ help?”

“Oh merciful Seven—” Floyd pretended not to notice how your vocabulary changed in just a few months— “thanks, but how much did you see?”

The fact that you nonchalantly accepted his help, that you didn’t flinch from him, made Floyd’s heart do somersaults and cartwheels. The corners of his lips stretched towards his ears. He squeezed your arm and watched you step out of the fountain.

Water dripped from your uniform, and Floyd observed the droplets fall from your hair and fingertips. He briefly wondered what you’d look like if he dragged you into the sea. Would you be surprised? Would you scream?

Would you laugh and call him an asshole, like what you did earlier?

“What answer do you wanna hear, Shrimpy?” He teased, still grinning and holding your arm. For some reason, Floyd didn’t want to let go.

“The one that doesn’t embarrass me, thanks.” You chuckled, despite the other three freshmen being silent spectators of this interaction. As you thanked him again and flicked the water off your hands, Floyd couldn’t help but grin wider.

Another month passed. After that admittedly hilarious outburst from Azul, you became a regular at Mostro Lounge. You visited during the weekends, even if you were wary at first. You fell into a routine, just as fast as how you picked up on the lingo in Twisted Wonderland.

You walked in during the weekends and stayed for as long as an hour and thirty minutes. (Yes, Floyd kept count.) You’d talk to either Jade or himself, depending on whoever was waiting tables at the time. Azul passed by at times to make sure you were having a good time, obviously to maintain Mostro Lounge’s good reputation. After a few visits, Floyd began to monopolize your attention by literally taking over server duty during the days you visited.

Even if he had to subtly threaten Azul with profit loss via property destruction and sabotage.

“Hey Shrimpy,” Floyd drawled, sitting across from you in one of the booths. It was a slow day today, and all you ordered was a fruit shake. A history book was opened to some page Floyd didn’t care to know. Notes littered your table, and your penmanship occupied his attention a little.

That was, until he grew bored of the sounds of pen scratching paper and the clinking dishes in Mostro Lounge.

“Hm? Yeah, Floyd?” You asked, flipping a page and jotting down something on your notebook. The tall merman pouted, before he reached over and snapped your book shut. Before you could even react, he snatched it away and lifted it far from you.

“I’m boooored. C’mon, play with me!”

Floyd grinned when you stuttered and glared at him. Your reactions always amused him, moreso whenever you were irritated or angry. Something about the way your brows furrowed and your nose scrunched made him want to tease you more. When you began to flail your arms and make animated gestures, that was when he knew you were really fed up.

“You—” You sighed and stood up, trying to reach for the book. Floyd only lifted it higher, and he didn’t even need to stand up. The corner of his lips twitched, while he watched you struggle and stretch to snatch the book back.

“Floyd, give it back! Please? I promise I’ll—”

There was a reason why he always tried to annoy you. You’d always promise him something in the end: treat him to lunch, hang out with him in the Lounge, watch his basketball matches (even if you were there for Crabby, too). It was the only way he could spend time with you without outright asking for it.

Floyd wasn’t an idiot. He knew he liked you, and it all began with that incident involving the fountain. Even Jade pointed out the many times Floyd’s face lit up every time you were around. He couldn’t ignore how much his heart pitter-pattered every time he saw you. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t grinning every time he caught sight of you. The way his name rolled off your tongue made him giddy enough to want to throw you over his shoulder and skip class with you.

If he had a choice, he’d drag you to the deepest parts of the sea and keep you to himself.

The book was plucked out of his hand, but your own hands were empty. You owlishly blinked, and so did Floyd. Both of you stilled, until another voice broke through the quiet hustle and bustle of the Lounge.

“It’s not nice to play with the food in front of you, Floyd.” Jade smiled, the kind he usually wore that fooled anyone into thinking he was the safer option between the two brothers. It was still funny to Floyd how everyone gravitated towards Jade, only to realize the jagged teeth behind that fake smile of his.

You took your book from Jade with an awkward smile. “Ah, thanks, even if you said something subtly backhanded…”

“It’s my pleasure, Prefect,” Jade answered, his smile never wavering in that moment. Careful hands gripped the book and slipped it off his gloved one.

Without missing a beat, you set the book aside and asked, “How are you then, Jade? You and Floyd are usually together, but I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The book remained shut, as if you weren’t trying to get it back from Floyd to study earlier. The lazy smile he had dropped into a thin line. His eyes drooped as he watched the conversation between you and his brother. On the other hand, Jade still wore that perfected smile of his with a hand over his heart.

“I’ve been doing fine. Thank you for asking.” Jade hummed before adding, “I found this lovely new specimen—another species of fungi—while on a hike recently. You were interested in mountain hiking and foraging, am I correct?”

“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, light like tinkling bells. It was a stark contrast to the boisterous laugh you usually had. Floyd’s chest tightened, and his hands clenched into fists under the table.

Letting your laughter die down, you continued with a smile, “Can I join you next time? If not that, you have terrariums, right? Can I see them some time?”

Your smile was small and practiced. Whenever you smiled, it was always toothy and the corners pushed your cheeks up. Now, it reminded Floyd of a prissy princess who had been sheltered all her life. You smiled like a noble that faced the aristocrats in hopes of a good impression. You smiled like the guests his parents had, trying to curry their favor, while he and Jade grew up.

You solely focused on his brother, as if Floyd wasn’t sitting right in front of you for the last hour. Your book and notes laid forgotten on the table. Condensed droplets began to drip from the glass, and the fruit shake was forgotten as well. Even when the edge of one of your transcripts became wet, you didn’t bother moving it away from the glass.

Floyd wasn’t an idiot. Of course, he wasn’t.

His eyes flitted towards the smile you had, softened with an emotion he didn’t want to see. Your own eyes appeared brighter, livelier than whenever you were with him. Even when you sat down, your body was angled towards Jade as you leaned on the table with crossed arms.

His mood soured in that instant, and the pitter-patter of his heart dulled into silence.

Floyd scowled, standing from the booth and shoving his hands in his pockets. You jumped a little, while Jade watched him with that carefully crafted smile. He didn’t bother explaining himself. Jade knew already, and he didn’t owe you anything. You’d only take this as Floyd sulking because his brother ruined his fun.

“Whatever,” he mumbled and trudged out of the restaurant with an air of annoyance. Everyone who happened to be in his way immediately skirted around the Leech brother. One wasn’t fast enough, and Floyd’s arm knocked the tray out of the poor student’s hands.

His scowl deepened. He loomed over the terrified boy with his jaw clenched and eyes glinting ominously. The aggravated tone rang clear in his voice when he threatened, “Watch it, or do you want me to squeeze ya, huh?”

The Heartslabyul student silently despaired about his lunch. He was too intimidated and afraid of Floyd to even squeak. The merman left Mostro Lounge with a scowl and his fists in his pockets, like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t bother looking over to see your reaction.

Floyd was growing irritated at the thought that you’d give all your attention to Jade. He’d rather not see you make goo-goo eyes at his own brother. He didn’t want to think too much of it. Maybe he’d find something to do; something to get rid of this itch in his chest and fists.

If he couldn’t, then Azul would just have to deal with Crowley later. He wasn’t going to sit in that cramped office and get lectured by a headmaster that preened over his and the academy’s reputation.

As Floyd stomped through the portal that led back to Night Raven College, his thoughts veered towards you and Jade. His mind conjured every memory he had of you: how you perked up every time you saw Jade; how you always asked about him, even if you thought you were subtle about it; how you subconsciously gravitated towards Jade every time he was there—

A pair of Pomefiore students skittered towards the wall as Floyd passed by. A shadow loomed over his scowling face, which accentuated the dips and curve of his mouth. His blood boiled, and his footfalls grew heavier with each step. If he went on like this, Floyd would dig potholes in the corridors with his feet alone.

He always saw your smile brighten and look dainty around Jade. Your laugh grew softer, restrained and freakishly refined. It was as if you deliberately controlled yourself to look more appealing to his brother. It was annoying Floyd more than it should.

He liked you, even when your body tipped back and doubled over from laughing so much. He liked you, even if your laugh sounded like a dying whale. He liked you, even when you snorted so hard that it hurt your nose. He liked you, even when you smacked him on the shoulder out of exasperation. He liked you so much that he was tempted to tickle you in front of Jade—just so he could hear your loud and carefree laugh again.

He wanted all of you, even if you were weak and frail and helpless. He just wanted you.

He already hated how cheesy he sounded, but his heart called out for you with each waking moment. The image of your smile overlapped with his memory of your laugh. Your name was scrawled in his mind, his heart, his lips, his very soul. Floyd already knew it was bad if he was being poetic, sappy, and romantic like Seagull.

So, why’d you like Jade? His brother could care less about you in that sense. Floyd was already annoyed that Jade moved things behind the scenes: making sure that you were alone with Floyd as much as possible. They were brothers, but none of them would ever admit that they cared for each other out loud. That didn’t stop people from thinking Jade was the more capable and reliable brother than Floyd, cunning and mischief aside.

Floyd was the one who helped you out whenever he could. He was the one who spent the most time with you in Mostro Lounge. He was the one who made a beeline towards you every time he saw even a glimpse of your head. He was the one who made you laugh and smile, especially whenever he noticed that you were down in the dumps.

He found himself in the courtyard, and his mood soured more at the sight of the fountain. The memory of you, laughing and sitting like a drenched duck in the water, overlapped with the image. Grumbling, he kicked a pebble off the path and clenched his jaw.

“Ah…” Floyd sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before ruffling the locks on the back of his head. His feet halted right in front of the fountain, with its clear and burbling water. Looking down at his reflection, he saw your face beside his—all smiles and eyes hiding behind your cheeks. His heart felt weird, as if being strangled by some invisible force that Floyd couldn’t punch nor squeeze.

He clicked his tongue and looked away from his reflection. With a frustrated groan, he mumbled to himself, “Why did it have to be Jade, Shrimpy? I’d fight tooth and nail for ya, but it’s Jade.”

With that, Floyd kicked the base of the fountain like a petulant child. A dull crack echoed in the desolate courtyard, before water gushed out of the broken stone. It spilled through the fissure, and Floyd took a step back to keep his shoes from getting drenched.

He frowned again and stalked off to find something else to occupy his time with. The afternoon sun showered the courtyard with a golden glow, which only reminded him of the time the sunlight illuminated your grinning face as you laughed.

“Why’d it have to be you, Prefect?” Floyd mumbled, shoulders sagging and foot kicking another pebble in the way. Maybe, in the near future, he’d get bored and forget about you. His heart wouldn’t do that weird pitter-patter, and his lips wouldn’t twitch into a grin with one look at you. His chest wouldn’t grow fuzzy and warm. He wouldn’t get the urge to run to where you were whenever he wanted to see you—which was every day, honestly.

Floyd hoped he would forget about you, but you were so difficult to forget. He’d never find someone else who captured his interest this much. He’d never find someone who looked so beautiful, even if the noises that left them were unattractive and childish. Even if their smile was too wide to be natural. Even if they were fascinated by him at first sight, rather than scared and intimidated.

No one else would be like you, but you just had to like his brother instead.

[twstbookclub]

In a different view

this is a continuation of Faded Away, but in a different POV, Sebek's side of the story. If you have not read Faded Away, please do so now by clicking HERE.

Summary: Sebek was always by their side. Watching as they went about life as the supposed future heir of the Draconia family, betrothed to Malleus. While he was used to watching, he could not help but wish acting was part of his role as well. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Sebek Zigvolt, Angst, Romance, Angst without a happy ending, Hurt, Hurt no comfort, a continuation Word count: 3,408

A/N: Please please PLEASE read the previous Malleus fic first if you wish to get the full context. While it is not needed, it does add a bit more to this story and why everything turned out the way it did, and why Sebek's POV is so important!

Thank you and enjoy!

He had mixed business with personal feelings. As a retainer for Malleus, he had to stay out of the way, but he couldn’t. You were so gorgeous to him, but he could never admit that. At least, not openly. He had always heard about you and your wonderful personality from Malleus, even his master being subtly mesmerized by your memory. He’d never seen this side of his idol before, which only made him curious about who you were, and he would find out.

You were happy to be around the castle during the springtime, especially in Malleus’ rose garden. The flowers and warm sun mixed with the cool air were some of the best parts of the season. You heard grass crunch from just a few meters away, and it caused you to turn around. You were met with a pair of sage green eyes.

The boy stood there in surprise, frozen in place with his hands to his sides. “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t following you—”

“Sebek, right?” You asked, smiling and looking confident in your answer. You hadn’t met all of Malleus’ main guards, but you were familiar with their names. “I hope I’m right. I was told Silver was named as such due to his hair, but you’re the half-human, half-fae Sebek Zigvolt.”

Sebek stood in place. He couldn’t look away from you. Your smile was as bright as the sky, and the flowers couldn’t compare to how you looked natural in this setting. “You’re correct. I–I apologize for not introducing myself sooner.”

You shook your head and laughed reassuringly. “There’s no need. I haven’t been outside as much as I want to. I’ve been spending most of my time in Malleus’ study or in my own home,” you said, approaching him and bowing slightly.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Malleus’ fiance,” you said warmly, your radiance never faltering. That glow around you made him more curious. He needed another moment with you, even for 5 minutes, to find out more.

Whenever he could, he’d talk to you and learn more about you. In the beginning, his conversations with you meant nothing. Although, the more you talked, the longer he would see you. The longer he saw you, the more he understood why his master was so hellbent on keeping you by his side.

Sebek gave it some thought—it made no sense to him. He would wake up and long for a way to look at you, talk to you, or just be in your presence. He wanted to be acknowledged by you, but one question would deter his mind into a questionable state.

One day, you were standing with Sebek in the kitchen. Your hands worked on a dish to present to Malleus as a belated birthday celebration. You knew that Malleus didn’t like big cakes, but you never knew the reason. You were decorating a cupcake instead, and you decided to make a homemade pint of ice cream.

You remembered Malleus talking about how the cooling sensation felt nice against his fire-breathing mouth. It was common for you to bring him ice cream every weekend when you two were children. You decided on mint, not only because it was cooling but because its greenish-teal color reminded you of your fiance.

Sebek was there to watch and help you in your task. He watched how you handled everything with care and precision. His eyes drank in the way you squeezed the piping bag with gentle hands; the way your own eyes lit up when you finished icing the cupcake; the way you placed the glass bowl down with your pinky cushioning its descent.

“I think Prince Malleus will enjoy this a lot,” he commented in a soft tone, which was unusual. Before you responded, the door to the kitchen opened.

“Enjoy what a lot?” Said the voice, and your gaze darted to Malleus who approached the counter with curiosity. “Oh—”

Sebek would look at you and instantly see you brighten at the sight of Malleus. “Malleus! Ugh, you couldn’t have stayed away from the kitchen until later?” You whined, giving a playful pout. “Now, why would I have to be restricted from visiting my own kitchen?” Malleus responded, then stopped when he saw the cupcake. “Hm? Who’s that for?” 

You sighed and presented the small plate to him. The cupcake was chocolate with white and green icing, then black sprinkles. You had a cheeky smile on your face and tilted your head. “If you would have waited like I wished, I could’ve brought both gifts to your study. Belated happy birthday.”

“Both gifts?” He asked, taking the dish from your hands. He knew you wanted to celebrate his birthday that you had missed, but he didn’t think it would be so simple.

You looked at Sebek and smiled. The expression snapped the boy out of his trance, watching how you and Malleus interacted. Sebek simply nodded and took out a pint-sized container. After that, he would move back and stand guard. You and Malleus were peaceful, making the moment playful by spreading ice cream and icing on each other’s faces.

His eyes took in every detail of your expressions, laugh, and playful attitude. He could never make you feel that way. How could he ever compare his love to the love you feel for Malleus?

How could he want his master’s praise when he became infatuated with you?

Sebek had no reason to deny his feelings. He disliked humans for their weakness, but you were a fae who endured becoming a mere pawn in a game of a predestined life. You never complained, not when he knew that you loved Malleus so much. Your love for him only grew more prominent every day.

It was wrong. This was his future king’s lifelong partner.

That’s why it was so surprising to watch it all crumble before him. He tried to call you from down the hall. Seeing you aimlessly amble without your usual radiance was concerning for him. You acted fine when he greeted you moments ago, but you looked pale and dull—like you had witnessed something horrifying.

He slowly followed you out of the castle to ensure you were alright. He froze, eyes slightly widening when you suddenly collapsed in the snowy forest.

You were crying. Why? What could make someone as strong as you cry? Your shrill, gut-wrenching screams made the birds in the trees fly away from fright. What happened? You always noticed his presence, but you couldn’t even look at him this time.

Your body hunched over as your bare fingers dug into the snow-covered ground. Malleus told him how much the first snow meant to you, even advising him and Silver about not bothering you when the dust would begin to fall.

What could he even do this time? He wanted to help, but he couldn’t disobey his master. He felt weak, like a human. 

Screw this.

Before he realized it, Sebek brought you back up as gently as possible. He was still bewildered, not knowing what was okay to do now. He never had to comfort someone before, and he was usually abrasive with others, but he couldn’t be that way with you. Your eyes landed on him, then your hands clung to his clothes. He understood that you just needed a shoulder to cry on. He didn’t know what else to do, so he carried you to a safe place to relieve your sorrows.

When you calmed down, Sebek sat at a distance from you and waited. Waited as quietly as he could. Once you had a steady breathing pattern, he finally spoke.

“Why were you acting that way?”

You could only look up at Sebek with gloomy eyes, taking a deep breath to explain how Maleficia called off the engagement; how Malleus protested against the queen about having to marry another. You explained to him how you accepted it without a complaint and with a smile.

“He always rejected me, anyway. Maybe his new fiance will change him.”

Sebek was met with doubt. He was dumbfounded at what he was told. Speechless, even. He felt guilty, but he left you alone to rest in his bed for the night and even left you a change of clothing after your bath.

You could only appreciate his kindness and bid him a good night. “May the Seven be with you, Sebek.”

After a few days, Sebek stood before the doors to Malleus’ study, contemplating whether to talk about what he had been told. He thought about it, vividly remembering your tear-stained face. He felt guilty once again. He secretly enjoyed having you cry in his bed and talk to him about the situation these past few days. He wanted you in his arms again. He wanted you to need him for comfort.

“What am I even doing?” He asked himself. He had every reason to. Since he became a retainer for Malleus, he never doubted or went against his master. It amazed him just how much a person can change because of another, someone loved and cared for.

Sigh.

Enough stalling. He had to talk to Malleus. Sebek opened the door, yet he instantly stopped at the sight of Malleus, Maleficia, and the rulers of another kingdom gathered together.

There was another woman. Why did this woman feel familiar, yet so foreign?

His master was on one knee and holding the hand of that woman. The green eyes of the master he adored met Sebek’s own. All he could do was stare at her, whose hand was held by Malleus as if he were proposing. That wasn’t what caught Sebek’s attention, though.

She was standing and smiling like you. Her eyes sparkled like yours. Her beauty was mesmerizing, but she wasn’t you in the slightest.

Was disbelief even the right word?

Just days ago, he learned about Maleficia forcing Malleus into a different marriage, leaving you to fend for yourself despite being his fiance since childhood. Now, there he was, already starting to forget about you.

“Sebek,” Malleus spoke, curious as to why his retainer suddenly arrived. “Is something the matter?”

Sebek jumped at hearing his name be called, snapping him out of his trance. He looked at his master and instead put on a focused look, bowing his head. “No, Prince Malleus. I simply wanted to speak to you, but I shall wait.”

“No need. Whatever you have to say to me,” Malleus paused, looking at the family before him with a smile, “you can say it in front of them as well. They’ll be part of this lineage soon.”

Sebek’s eyes widened. He accepted the change? “I cannot. I apologize. Excuse me,” he said, leaving before hearing anything else.

It took months before Sebek could speak to Malleus, but the engagement was known, and the wedding was less than 24 hours away from now.

Sebek stood outside in the courtyard, just behind Malleus, as he watched his master lean back against a stone pillar. Malleus would look up at the stars in the night. The pillar was the last place he spent time with you, and the last time he would ever see you.

Sebek took a breath and stayed at ease, noticing how Malleus looked content and calm. How could he even look like that? Sebek would take his expressions as one of a man in love. Assuming that his master was in love with his new fiance, that is.

“Master Malleus,” Sebek blurted out, getting restless from the silence.

“How are they?” Malleus asked, still staring up at the night sky. Malleus stayed calm, but that contentedness didn’t last long. He grew slightly somber, still guilty from the events of months prior to the present day.

The half-fae was surprised, but he didn’t show it much. Instead, Sebek looked at the ground, fully letting go of his demeanor as royal guard, and spoke to Malleus as his friend.

“Not good. I can’t even fathom the events that have transpired. I learned what it means to be someone’s support due to the circumstances.”

“I see…” Malleus whispers, then he looks at Sebek. “It’s hurting you to see them this way, right? Believe me, I did not choose this.”

“I know. I am fully aware. I was told vague details, but it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. Did you fight for them?” Sebek asked, looking at Malleus after.

“I did. They decided to accept the change, even after I pleaded.” 

“That didn’t mean you should’ve given up.”

Malleus began to chuckle, and then it turned into a laugh. Sebek was surprised once again, confused about why the hell he was laughing.

“Give up?” Malleus started, still laughing but only speaking again after being able to calm down. “I never wanted that. You don’t know what I wanted.”

Sebek grew irritated but he kept his composure, needing a damn answer. “Then, what did you want?”

Malleus leaned against the stone pillar and took a deep breath, not wanting to erupt into an outburst. "I wanted everything. They were my everything for so long. I never asked for things in life, but they were the only person I had always wanted to stay with."

"You can still say something. The wedding is tomorrow. Why won't you say something!? Are you so fond of your future wife that you want to push them away as if they didn't exist—!"

"What do you know!? I am haunted by my future wife. She acts just like them!” Malleus yelled, sounding frustrated.

“She has the same mannerisms, and moves just as elegantly as they did... But my bride is not them. I can't have them. To protect you all, I have to let go of them."

"Screw protecting us!” Sebek yelled back, getting closer to Malleus, his mind going into overdrive. “We are here to protect you, not the other way around!"

"No! I will not put this kingdom through war.” Malleus was stern and cold, different than he had ever been before. “Why are you trying to push them to me? You're only hurting your own heart, Sebek."

Sebek was shocked. This Malleus was not the one the boy had idolized for years. This love was turning the people he cared for most into strangers. "What do you mean?"

"Look at me and tell me you are not in love with my past lover. That is why you wish to fix this. If they are not happy, you are not happy either. I know that exact feeling,” Malleus stated, oddly confident about his words.

He did know that exact feeling. Sebek could see it, too. The eyes showed a lot of emotion and, as Sebek kept eye contact with his master, he could see the sorrow and regret behind the darkness of those once bright green eyes.

Sebek had to choose his words carefully. He could see how one more push could send Malleus’ over the edge. "Even if that is the case, they love you, Malleus. Not me, but you. My love for them will never compare to the love they have harbored for years with you. Do you not feel the same?"

Malleus stayed quiet. He needed to think. He had to reject everything. "I cannot love someone that is no longer mine. That is the truth,” he said, then they both heard footsteps against the concrete path.

They turned around and saw you there. Malleus was surprised at the sight of your figure coming closer. “You—”

“I wish to no longer see any conflict in regards to this situation,” you said softly, then you looked at Sebek.

“Thank you for trying to fight for me. I do not think it is necessary to do so now. It is pointless. Your words and breath are wasted in a situation that cannot be changed.” 

“But—”

“Prince Malleus,” you whisper, cutting Sebek off to look at the draconic fae beside you. “Do remember that your bride is moving into the castle a few days after the wedding.”

Malleus went silent at the mention of his fiance. His heart was hurting in a bothersome way. Why couldn’t he love you? He hated this, but he had a kingdom to take care of.

“As for myself,” you started, still staring at Malleus, “I am fine. No need to worry about me. We have done everything together since we were small children. I have loved you with every fiber of my being without fail. If you love me the same, you will marry your bride tomorrow and—”

Sebek’s eyes widened in the middle of the silence. Do his eyes deceive him?

Malleus was kissing the person Sebek loved so much. Malleus is getting married tomorrow, but he was kissing you in the same spot that changed everything that day. Your own eyes were shocked but soon closed to enjoy the sensation, your body as still as a statue.

Malleus held your waist close to him to keep you there. His lips were firmly pressed against yours, and he wouldn’t let go for a while. Sebek couldn’t look away from the scene in front of him. He had been able to endure everything. 

Not being loved by you. Not being able to make you smile or laugh. The pain was creeping up on him, witnessing the love you and Malleus had for one another despite the situation left him shattered. He felt bad for you. He could see that this was the only time this would happen. So, out of respect, he looked away.

Not only out of respect but to spare himself the pain of watching any longer.

Once Malleus pulled away, you opened your eyes and blurted out the next words that came to your mind, “I will not go to your wedding. I will spare myself that pain. I won’t lose you if I don’t witness you leave. As long as I believe you chose to leave and haven’t left my grasp, then I will be fine.”

Malleus let out a chuckle and let you go. “Good. Then, as long as you don’t see me giving myself away, I’m still truly yours.” 

You nodded in agreement and bowed your head, then looked at Sebek. “Then, this is goodbye. No—that’s too bitter,” you said playfully, looking at Malleus again and taking his hand one last time.

“It is simply ‘see you later’,” Sebek responded, looking at the two of you with a small smile. “Good luck.”

You nodded again and let go of Malleus’ hand before walking away. Your smile dropped once they could no longer see your face.

After a couple of years, Malleus’ coronation was successful, and Sebek was looking around for his master around the ballroom floor. After a few minutes of searching, he only found Malleus on the balcony, but he was with you. You came to the coronation. 

Sebek watched as you and Malleus stared into each other’s eyes, the obvious longing for one another still present. He noticed how you looked so different. Your eyes that sparkled were dull before, but they sparkled like stars once you set your eyes on the new king.

You were angelic and carefree to Sebek. He liked all sides of you, but this one only hurt him.

“You were a wonderful experience.” 

Sebek heard Malleus speak, but then he quickly had to hide when someone called for Malleus. He watched as they dragged their king away and left you alone.

“You were… everything.”

You said that, thinking you were alone. Sebek only realized that the time you spent away from Malleus did nothing. He could tell that Malleus was the same way. He slowly stepped out and looked at you, concern prominent on his face.

“Sebek…” You said quietly, your eyes dulling once again. 

Sebek had fallen in love with the person he couldn’t have. He knew it was taboo, especially since they were the person that his master loved so much, but it’s not like he’d ever reveal it. His body took over for a moment and when he came back to his senses, he had his arm wrapped around you in a hug. 

To Sebek, the person in front of him was like a candle. Bright, full of many chances and changes, but even those have a limit. Now, this lovely candle had burned out and would never have the ability to light up again.

[twstbookclub]

Slowly, Surely, Sadly

Summary: Who would've thought one smile could make you like someone? Of all people, you never expected to fall for Riddle—not after his overblot. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce Shenanigans again, Unrequited (maybe not, who knows?) Feelings, Spoilers for Book 1 if yall haven't finished it Word Count: 3, 304 This is my first time writing full-on angst. I already had this plot in mind last April, but this was my only chance to finally write it all down. I hope I did my job, and I'm sorry also not sorry for the feels. I was running on 5 hours of sleep and a hopeless romantic playlist when I wrote this. I hope yall enjoy, though 💕

Whenever you looked at Riddle, the memory of his swollen cheek and tear-brimmed eyes overlapped with his stern expression. Even with the constant lectures and helicopter parenting becoming less frequent, you could never forget his ruthless reign over Heartslabyul. His first impression was that of a tyrannical and merciless ruler, and you’d never forget that.

Yet, you could never forget how he looked like a lost child in a garden of roses when Ace punched him that day.

“Would you like to sample one of our teatime treats, Prefect?”

Riddle’s voice pulled you away from your thoughts. Your eyes darted from your teacup to the housewarden. An expectant yet patient smile curled his lips, which was a stark contrast to his natural frown. Your eyes lingered on the smile on his cherubic face.

“Sure,” you answered, somewhat in a daze. You took a sip of your tea, before your nose scrunched a little. Before Riddle noticed your grimace, you put the teacup down and dropped three sugar cubes in your drink.

You didn’t miss the amused twitch of Riddle’s lips from the corner of your eyes. This action would have earned you a reprimand and a lecture on one of hundreds of Heartslabyul’s rules. After his overblot and the incident in the rose garden, Riddle was becoming more lenient.

“You should mind your sugar intake—” Well, he’s still working on the leniency, but he’s trying— “Do you prefer a tart, a cupcake, or a cookie? Maybe you’d like to try a slice of today’s cake?”

You gave Riddle your preferred dessert, then you watched him reach over the table. Dainty, gloved fingers curled around the dish, before he brought it to you. You gave a brief nod and a mumble of thanks, before you took a bite of the treat.

“...!” You quietly moaned from the sweet taste that melted on your tongue. With a hand on your cheek, you slowly chewed to savor the sugar that graced your tastebuds. Your eyes seemed to sparkle as you dug into more of the dessert.

“It’s so good!”

You didn’t miss the satisfied smile on Riddle’s face, still cherubic and radiant. Amidst the chatter and raucous noise in this week’s Unbirthday party, you somehow heard the hint of pride in the red-haired sophomore’s words.

“Of course, that’s to be expected. Trey’s baking skills are the best in Heartslabyul—possibly in the entirety of Night Raven College.” Riddle paused, before softly adding, “I prefer his strawberry tarts, though. It’s a shame he couldn’t make any for today.”

The wistfulness in that tone of his made you pause. As Riddle took his own sip of tea, you couldn’t look away from him.

One afternoon, you marched through the silent corridors of the arcane academy. Heavy footfalls echoed in your ears, as if to mock you. The reminder of why you were wandering the halls alone made you frown.

“Where the hell are you, Grim?” You mumbled, head turning left and right, as you stomped. All the doors were closed shut, and voices could be heard through them. You doubt this area had an empty classroom at the moment.

Professor Crewel’s scowl and his whip flashed in your mind. As much as you loved Grim and his snark, you’d rather not face the wrath of the dog-loving professor. Brows furrowing, you grumbled again, “If he skips alchemy lessons again, I’m going to wring his neck and—”

“Prefect?” The gentle voice forced you to a halt, and you blinked at Heartslabyul’s warden in front of you. Riddle looked at you with a raised brow, before he crossed his arms and tapped his heel on the floor.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you, but…” He paused, eyes roaming your face. “You don’t seem to be in a good mood, and your class is about to start. I passed by Ace and Deuce heading towards Professor Crewel’s classroom earlier.”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and sighed. You were already on good terms with the housewarden, and you’d rather not get collared for misdirecting your annoyance.

“Hi Riddle,” you greeted with a small, strained smile to be polite. “I’m actually looking for Grim. I lost him in the crowd during the lunch rush, and well…”

You tried so hard not to curse the lovable, annoying puffball. Another heavy sigh left your lips with a shake of your head. The strained smile became an apologetic one. Riddle stared at you, most likely scrutinizing something about you. Maybe he was judging you for letting Grim get away.

“I shouldn’t be keeping you here. It’s nice to see you, though—”

“Hold on,” Riddle stepped closer and reached for your tie, “your tie is crooked. Let me fix it for you.”

You held your breath, biting your tongue to stifle any surprised noises. The red-haired sophomore was too focused on fixing your tie to notice your reaction. His knuckles brushed your chest as he tightened the knot, and you tensed. He didn’t even ask for permission. He just took initiative, and it reminded you of a doting yet strict mother for some reason.

“You should be more conscious of your appearance,” Riddle reminded kindly while smoothing the creases of your uniform coat. He stepped back and seemed satisfied with his intervention. His lips stretched into a satisfied smile again, and you couldn’t look away.

“Now, off you go. Professor Crewel isn’t forgiving when it comes to tardiness.”

“R-right,” you stuttered with a faint warmth on your cheeks. You were tempted to slap yourself for losing composure like this, but you wanted to keep your dignity. Riddle would think you lost your mind if you did.

“Thanks, Riddle.”

His smile softened, yet it grew wider. The sharp and scrutinizing gaze melted into one of appreciation. Your heart skipped a beat. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Something fuzzy and warm filled your chest as you stared at Riddle. Your fingers twitched, as if longing to touch Riddle in some way.

It was ridiculous, but you didn’t dislike the feeling either.

“You’re welcome. If you’ll excuse me, I should be heading to my own class. I wish you luck, Prefect.”

He skirted around you in one, fluid motion. The click of his heels echoed in the empty corridor as you watched him go. His short figure carried a sense of dignity and pride, something that used to terrify and annoy his wards in Heartslabyul.

It used to intimidate you, but you couldn’t look away from him now. Even when Riddle turned a corner and disappeared, you couldn’t stop staring.

Ever since that day, you couldn’t stop noticing these things about Riddle. His entire face brightened, eyes glittering and cheeks flushing pink, when presented with a strawberry tart. Whenever he smiled, his gray irises seemed to hide behind the chub of his cheeks. He always looked red in the face whenever he was embarrassed, but the addition of a scowl and wide eyes showed his anger instead. His voice always raised in pitch, becoming less gentle and more crazed, whenever he became agitated and enraged. He even lost his formality and courteousness at that point: language becoming more crude yet still refined.

One day, while preparing for a game of croquet, you pointed out how happy Riddle seemed when he took care of the hedgehogs. Ace shot you a weird look. Deuce looked perplexed, lost even, when his eyes darted to you.

“Really?” He asked, looking between Riddle crouched on the ground and you who looked surprised. “He doesn’t look any different. How could you tell?”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you told them, “It’s not obvious, but he’s smiling. See? His eyes look brighter when he looked at the hedgehogs, too. Oh, and there’s the fact that he gently pets their heads with a finger. He’s avoiding touching their quills, and he’s trying not to agitate the tiny things.”

There was a long, uneasy stretch of silence that followed your answer. After a moment, Ace’s stunned look shifted into a mischievous grin. Deuce mirrored his expression, and it reminded you of that one time he lost his composure and beat up a pair of upperclassmen.

“Huh, really?” There was an intrigued and knowing tone in the redhead’s voice. Meanwhile, Deuce turned to look at Riddle as if to verify your observation. Although, the ravenette was still grinning, as if he knew something you didn’t.

In that moment, you realized you were screwed—so, so screwed.

Upon seeing your confusion warp into a crestfallen and horrified realization, Deuce clapped a hand on your shoulder with a snicker.

“Looks like the Prefect has a crush,” he teased, but you wanted none of it. Ace followed with an incredulous yet amused, “Really? Housewarden Riddle? Strict and overbearing Housewarden Riddle? Oh, your standards are buried six feet under, Prefect.”

A hand smacked Deuce’s own off your person, and you began to stumble over your words. Both lovable yet annoying idiots laughed it off, while you half-heartedly threatened them with a raised fist.

“Shut up, or I swear to the Seven—!”

Ace and Deuce laughed louder, nearly howling and sniggering in delight. As they clutched their stomachs and you grabbed the collars of their uniforms, Riddle’s confused and curious stare was left unnoticed.

Riddle continued to invite you to their weekly Unbirthday parties as an honorary guest. He still offered you desserts with little to no comment on your sweet tooth. He still fussed over your appearance whenever you two passed each other in the halls. He always gave you a subtle smile, despite his stern demeanor. The more you spent time around the housewarden, the more dread weighed in your stomach.

You couldn’t ignore the flutters of your heart, how it flipped and did cartwheels whenever Riddle treated you kindly. No matter what he did, you always felt like you were floating and walking on clouds.

You still longed to touch him—maybe brush back a stray strand that fell over his forehead. You wanted to know how it felt to hold his hand. Maybe even take a stroll in Heartslabyul’s rose maze with him, hand-in-hand and talking about anything. You wanted to spend teatime alone with him. You wanted to see him smile after taking a bite of a strawberry tart you made for him. You wanted to gaze at the moon and the stars with him in the comfort of Riddle’s dorm room, just sitting together in that window alcove with pillows and blankets.

You wanted to do so much more with Riddle, but the large mirror before you spelled the end of your hopes and dreams.

“Well, Prefect,” Crowley began with a jovial tone, which was a stark contrast to the despair that gripped your heart, “I found a way for you to return to your world. After long, grueling hours of searching for the solution, I fulfilled my promise to you, and I even gathered your friends here for a heartfelt farewell.”

You called bullshit on that, but you still appreciated Crowley’s effort. True to his word, all of the people you befriended surrounded you in the Mirror Chamber. The occasion was treated as a formal one, if their dorm uniforms didn’t make a statement already. Everyone had varying degrees of restrained emotion, as you stood before the mirror that led to your home dimension.

Grim stood behind you with clenched paws and glassy eyes. You spotted Ace and Deuce grinning, but there was a hint of a strain in their smiles. Kalim was close to bursting into tears. Leona stared at you with a neutral look and a hand on his hip, but the harsh dig of his fingers told you otherwise. Azul wore his usual smile, one reserved for business, and Jade had a polite smile as well. Floyd didn’t share the same sentiment. The more capricious Leech brother scowled as if he ate Lilia’s cooking after being promised a tasty meal.

You didn’t dare look at Riddle. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You can’t.

Crowley spread his arms with a self-satisfied smile that both irked and endeared you to him. “Aren’t I a magnanimous and gracious headmaster to do something like this for you?”

He made a show of spinning on his heel and walking towards the doors to the Mirror Chamber. With a flamboyant wave of his hand, he exclaimed, “I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes and well-wishes. However…”

Crowley looked at you from over his shoulder, and your throat tightened at the soft smile that curled his lips.

“It was a pleasure to have you here, Prefect. I would’ve loved for you to stay until graduation, but alas. I wish you all the best once you return home.”

The last thing you saw was a swish of his cape, before a heavy weight nearly toppled you to the ground. Tan, bejeweled arms hugged your waist as a loud bawl harshly rang in the room. You didn’t even need to look to see that it was Kalim blubbering through his tears. Jamil’s alarmed voice echoed in your ears, and that seemed to be everyone’s cue to surround you.

Tearful farewells, wistful wishes, and unfulfilled promises filled the enclosed space. Grim clung to you all this time, all the while mewling and whining about how he’d lose his henchman.  Still, he was crying his eyes out. The large mirror was obscured from your sight, as if the unusual group of friends you made during your time here intended this. You couldn’t help but laugh—a bittersweet sound—as everyone tried to get a word in with you. Even Malleus came to say his goodbyes, though he seemed more reserved than usual.

Then the dreaded moment came: Riddle approached you with that same smile, the gentle and subtle one he always graced you with. Everyone who noticed the shift in mood somehow left space for you and the Heartslabyul housewarden to talk. You almost giggled when you overheard Jade scold Floyd for whining about this.

You forced your smile to widen, even if your eyes stung and your throat tightened again. Your voice cracked at the end, but that could be mistaken for holding back tears.

“Hi, Riddle,” you whispered as you felt your throat tighten more, “I guess I’m leaving before I could have another Unbirthday party with all of you. I was so excited to try the macarons, too.”

The gentle smile became forlorn, and it reminded you of that time he lamented over not having strawberry tarts in that one Unbirthday party. A twinge in your heart made your breath hitch, but you hoped Riddle wouldn’t notice.

“It’s a shame, really,” he told you with a falter in his smile. The corners of his lips hitched up, as if that never happened in the first place. “I wanted you to try some tea from the Queendom of Roses as well, but… that may never happen now.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, finding it hard to breathe. The sting in your eyes worsened. Some invisible hand squeezed your heart, as if threatening to puncture the fragile thing with its talons. You maintained your composure as much as you can.

You couldn’t help but admit, “I wish I could have more time with all of you.”

I wish I had more time with you.

“I wish I could watch the third-years graduate. I wish I could see all of us graduate here, even if I don’t have magic.” You chuckled, and you found yourself with loose lips around Riddle.

“I want to have more Unbirthday parties with everyone in Heartslabyul. I want to have lunch with everyone in Mostro Lounge. I want to watch the next interdorm Spelldrive tournament and cheer for your guys. I want to spend Christmas and welcome the New Year with everyone. I want a lot of things, but… Well, I’m going home.”

Riddle’s smile slipped, and you watched him visibly swallow with a subtle frown. Even when he wasn’t smiling, he still had a gentle look on him.

“Who knows, Prefect? Maybe there will come a time when we find a way for you to visit and vice versa.” Riddle sounded so unsure, so hesitant, in his reassurance. Still, you appreciated it.

You ignored how much your heart hurt and your jaw clenched when he said that.

“I hope so.” Chuckling, you kept your arms to yourself as you smiled at Riddle. He was becoming a blur of red, white, and gold. Warm tears already spilled down your cheeks, before you even realized what was happening.

You couldn’t see his reaction, but you raised a hand to wipe away your tears. While the heel of your palm rubbed your cheek, you mumbled, “Sorry. I just…”

A white handkerchief was offered to you, and you took it with murmured gratitude. Your eyes were drawn to the embroidered initials of Riddle’s name on the corner. The cloth felt soft on your skin, and you found some comfort in that.

“Keep it,” Riddle told you with that smile again, “so that you would remember me every time you see it.”

Your mind blanked at his words. Riddle referred to himself rather than everyone in Heartslabyul, even everyone in NRC. Heart fluttering and throat tightening, you resisted the urge to sob. Hope came as a surge of warmth and the weight of dread in your chest.

Not now. Not when I’m leaving.

With a smile, melancholic yet bright, you dabbed away the last of your tears and tucked the handkerchief into your uniform pocket. A burst of courage let you wrap your arms around Riddle in a hug with a whispered, “Thank you. I’m going to miss you—all of you.”

I’m going to miss you more.

Normally, Riddle would be flustered at the sudden gesture of affection. You expected a loud stutter and an indignant scolding, but he simply returned the hug. His face was buried in your shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you.

“You’re welcome.” You heard him whisper, followed by a faint sniff. Something warm and wet soaked through the coat and into your shoulder. You hugged Riddle tighter, as if to hide him from the rest of the world at that moment.

Too brief for your liking, Riddle pulled away with that same smile. His eyes appeared to be glassy, reflecting your tearful expression and wobbly grin. Your heart twinged again, and your jaw clenched.

It was that smile that damned you the moment Riddle fixed your tie for the first time.

“I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?” You asked, laughing off your dread and despair. Riddle seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something. Your heart stuttered as you watched him open his mouth with reluctance.

Something held him back. He shook his head and merely smiled at you again.

“Of course,” he murmured, eyes hiding behind his cheeks again. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Prefect.”

In that moment, you’d have stolen the stars from the sky if Riddle wanted to make a wish. You’d bake tarts and cakes in the Heartslabyul kitchen, even if it ended in a mess of flour, if he wanted sweets. You’d stay past curfew in his dorm room to stargaze, if he was willing to break the rules just this once. You’d shower him in kisses, hugs, and cuddles if he hesitated to spell out his desire for affection.

You’d stay in Twisted Wonderland if he asked you to.

Swallowing your heartache, you forced a smile—bright and brilliant, putting the sun to shame. Your gaze never left Riddle, while unspoken feelings laid heavy on the tip of your tongue. Reality crushed your daydreams and wishes, reduced to rubble and dust. The next words felt final and absolute.

“Goodbye, Riddle.”

What remained was the handkerchief with his stitched initials in your pocket.

[twstbookclub]

Faded Away

SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 INCLUDED; THIS IS AN AU. THIS IS SIDE A OF A TWO PART STORY. HERE IS SIDE B.

This is side A.

Inspired by Fade Away by Riley Baron Summary: Childhood friends with Malleus, you were even supposed to marry him. You'd call him your fiancé, but he'd shoot you down with a smile. One day, Maleficia would announce that you would no longer be engaged to Malleus, but you had already decided to renounce that before, so it was okay. For Malleus, after experiencing loss in his life, everything he adored before began to fade away. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Malleus Draconia, Changed fate, Childhood friends to lovers, lovers to strangers, angst with a sad ending, hurt no comfort Word count: 3,961

A/N: … sigh. If someone had told me a year ago that I would write nearly 4,000 words for Malleus Draconia angst, I would've laughed in their face. Despite that, I wrote this for two days and edited it for another two. I fixated on this man for FOUR DAYS nonstop, listening to playlists about falling in love with your comfort character but then saying goodbye, and I am still not done. I am genuinely proud of this work. Out of the 7 years I have been writing fanfiction, I have never been so happy to say this is one of my best works. And I don't really like Malleus like that. Attack me all y'all want, I know book 7 spoilers, and I was his stan(not simp) until I found out the truth and had to take a step BACK. I don't know what I feel about him now, but as a Silver girlie, I need someone to take the pen away from Yana Toboso.

Regardless of my feelings, I am glad I could write this and that the story turned out amazing. As I said, I'm not done, and I have another fic posting as soon as this one drops, so don't stray too far.

On that note, thank you for waiting and reading this long, longer than I would like to admit story. Enjoy.

The horns of this child were small, but the eyes of another child were fascinated at the sight of such a mature boy. The boy’s name was Malleus Draconia, the future King of Briar Valley. You were told that you would become his fiance when you grew up. You could feel your heart instantly pound and become fond of this young royal. You had already known him prior, growing up around the same time, and your families were somewhat close. Still, you couldn’t have imagined being able to marry him later down the line. He was aloof and neutral as a child, speaking to you when you would talk to him and only if he had a response. You loved him that way, anyway. 

“You’re my… fiance?” 

“I am! Don’t worry; I won’t go anywhere if it’s not with you!”

“Hmm… Then I can accept that.”

Growing up as teenagers was slightly different. It took some years, but he would begin to warm up to you. He would smile occasionally and accept the way you would call him “my fiance”, but still turn you down for the time being. Witnessing him become stressed caused a pang of guilt in your heart. Still, you’d quickly dissipate the feeling by messing around and seeing him feel better with your company.

“My fiance should be calm the way he usually is. How can his kingdom stay calm if he is not?”

Malleus would usually stare at you after you said things like that, then respond with, “You’re right… Alright. I will do that, but I’m not your fiance.”

Then, like clockwork, you’d laugh at him before responding, “Okay, okay, Prince Malleus. Whatever you say.”

Now, Malleus finally returned from studying at Night Raven College and settled back into his past routine. It took some months, since now there were new things he needed to learn before he could become king. He would follow without a complaint, though.

He was standing in a throne room, checking on documents and plans for the kingdom. You would simply trot in with your hands behind your back as you would often do, admiring him as your shoes would click against the floor.

“My fiance is working so hard already?” You teased, being playful and wanting to catch his attention.

“I’m not your fiance.” Malleus would say with a concentrated tone, his gruff voice echoing through the large room as the sound of documents being flipped echoed. 

“Right. King Malleus.” You stopped walking to give him a bow and then approached his side. You moved your hand to cling to his arm, but knowing your behavior, he already had an arm out for you.

“Not king either. I haven’t had my coronation yet. Queen Malecifia is planning that as we speak,” Malleus spoke again, then set down the documents and turned to you, his hair slightly swaying with his movement. His green eyes stared down at you, and then he captured a slight smile on his lips. “What is it that you need from me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you and waste your time. I truly hope I am a bother,” you spoke playfully and took one of the loose documents into your hands to read through it. Malleus quickly took the paper before you could get too far into reading it. Right. Kingdom affairs.

Malleus gives you a look before sighing and pulling a chair out. “If I let you touch my horns, could you let me work?” He spoke, moving to sit down beside where you were standing. You grew excited at the opportunity to play with his horns and instantly went quiet to do so. You stood behind him and carefully adjusted his hair while examining every detail of the feature in front of you.

The atmosphere was quiet yet peaceful. Time felt like it was still, pen scratching paper occasionally sounds through the large room. Your hands gently held his horns, caressing them to remind yourself of its sharp and enticing structure.

Memories of childhood played through your mind as you watched him read these documents, soft breaths coming from him as his focus never broke. You did this exact thing all the time with him, especially during his study hours.

“Why do you like my horns so much?” Malleus spoke, suddenly breaking the silence and surprising you out of your trance. You thought about it momentarily, trying to find the right words to explain it, but you couldn't find a single word for how. Instead, you explained it the best you could. 

“Hmm… I don’t know. There’s something about seeing these horns that gives me some reassurance. Relief that I can still be your future beloved.” you answered before fixing his hair again. Messing with him like this felt right. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, being his future partner was something of fate. There were others out there with royal status just like you. Queen Maleficia could’ve replaced or sent you away, but she hadn’t. You were thankful every time you saw his grandmother.

“I see… You’re an odd one,” Malleus spoke softly, a faint breath being heard from him as he felt your hands let go of him. “You let go. Is something the matter?”

Malleus noticed you stayed quiet but didn’t hear you move either. So, he turned around, his breath catching at what he saw. His eyes were met with your side profile, your lips curling into a grin. Your eyes reflected the light like glass, and your hands fell to his shoulders.

“It’s the first snow of the season,” you said, mesmerized by the view. Your quiet voice showed just how enchanted you were. Malleus had an idea of how others felt about the first snow. All he took in from when you explained the moment to him was how special it could be for lovers.

Every time the first snow would fall, he’d watch from the window of his study how you admired the snowflakes as if you’d never seen them before. He watched you do this for years as if it was routine. Hell, it would be weird if he didn’t see you out there. 

Malleus took your wrist and made his way out towards the courtyard. He’s the one taking you out there this time? You could only follow and keep your excitement at bay from his behavior.

Arriving outside, Malleus fixed your winter cape, ensuring you wouldn’t feel too cold. He leaned against a wall as you played and tried to catch the snowflakes. Your smile was as bright as the white sky, and he would just stand there, watching you without a word, but more as if he was in thought. 

You noticed this and took a moment to gather some snow from the ground, putting it behind your back before moving towards him. “Are you alright? You seem to be lost in thought,” you asked, making him snap out of his trance to look at you. 

“I’m fine. I’m simply reminded of my time at the college from seeing all this snow. Why do you a—” 

Crunch.

He sighed, keeping his eyes closed before saying one thing. “... Why?’

Malleus was cut off by the impact of a snowball hitting his face. The icy crystals caused his skin to feel colder than it already was. He wiped the snow off his face as he witnessed you begin to back away. Every step back from you was a step forward for him, and you noticed how he had a straight-faced expression. You laughed nervously and grabbed his wrists, trying to hold him back.

“I just wanted to get your attention, Malleus!” You tried to explain, yelping when he would tower over you, but you would only find it all amusing. Malleus would chuckle, grabbing and throwing snow at you, not aiming for your face like you had done to him. 

This went on for a few minutes, enjoying the back-and-forth attacks, while the snow piled onto the ground through the mid-winter day. At one point, Malleus would grab you by the waist to keep you from straying too far away from him. The gesture felt nice, but also intimate as he’d only do this to stop you from being clumsy.

You held onto his arms and stepped back slowly, moving towards a stone pillar, while your eyes didn’t leave him. You glanced between his eyes, lips, and the horns you loved seeing. Even after he held you against the cold stone, there wasn’t anything to worry about, but him.

You felt nervous while giving his arms a light squeeze, and he carefully brushed his cold fingertips against your cheek, making you relax with your head leaning into his slight touch. Soon, his hand cupped your cheek to tilt your head, keeping you in place this time.

Finally, your eyes stayed on his lips. His green eyes admired your features to remember them down to the last detail. Your mingled breaths hit each other’s faces from the close proximity, then Malleus leaned close, his lips inching closer to yours.

It was cut short, though. You turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat, but your body would stop what it was doing and let go of Malleus, instantly bowing at the sight of a familiar lady.

Malleus would turn around next. His breathing was slightly uneven from getting caught in the act, but he’d still bow and greet the woman in the courtyard with them.

“Queen Maleficia, what brings you out here during this weather?” Malleus began first, slowly coming up with you to stand correctly.

“It is good to see you, Queen Maleficia.” You followed after, giving Malleus’s grandmother a warm smile.

“Not much, my dear. I’m glad to see you taking a break,” Maleficia returned the greeting and gave a smile as well. She’d soon drop that expression, though. “I need to speak to you about something important.”

Your body would tense up again, and you took that as a cue to leave them alone, so you bowed and took a step forward. “I’ll leave you be, then—”

“You aren’t going anywhere. You are part of this too.” Maleficia spoke earnestly, and she rarely had to speak in such a way to you. The last time you heard those words was when she scolded you and Malleus for disappearing to Lilia’s home.

Those words always made you nervous, especially since they usually meant something was wrong. You could only turn around and smile again.

“Right. I apologize for my assumption, Your Majesty,” you said carefully, instantly seeing Malleus turn to you with a look of curiosity.

Standing before Queen Maleficia, now in her study, you held your hands as Malleus stood near the high bookshelves. His grandmother stared out of her window briefly before taking a breath.

“Malleus.” Queen Maleficia began to speak, turning around to face you and Malleus somberly. “Your coronation is being planned, as you know, but something must be done before you can become king. You know what that is, correct?”

Malleus grew confused, but his eyes would widen slightly once he understood. “Marriage. What of it?”

As soon as Malleus answered, the woman would look towards you and smile lightly. “That’s correct. What do you plan to do about that?”

You stare at Malleus briefly before looking at Maleficia again, then smile softly. “I do want to marry the prince. That has not changed since we were children.”

Maleficia looked away from you, and then she made her way to stand in front of you. “That, my child, is what I can no longer allow. I am sorry.” 

Your eyes widened, and you saw Malleus perk up at the corner of your eye. He was shocked as well. “What…?” Is that the only thing you could say?

“What are you talking about?” Malleus sounded off. You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes would stay on the Queen before you, still in disbelief. 

“This is the best course of action. Forgive me, my child.”

“Queen M—No. Grandmother, what in the world are you referring to? Answer me!” Malleus began to demand, moving you back and getting ahead of Maleficia.

“Malleus, believe me, this was not easy.”

“I did not ask if it was easy. I did not ask if you’ve thought of this for weeks or months. I asked for an explanation, grandmother,” Malleus spoke sternly, going against Maleficia, which he had not done before. Maleficia was growing angry, but she remained calm regardless.

“I am doing this for you, for the kingdom of Briar Valley; to end a war before it could begin. You will do your duty as the future ruler of this kingdom.”

“You think the kingdom can decide who will be my partner in marriage for the rest of my life? You did that when I was a child! I went along with it and accepted it the first time as it was!” Malleus also grew angry at the way the events were unfolding. He had accepted everything without complaint, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time. This isn’t what he wanted.

“Now, Queen Maleficia, you wish to choose someone new? Someone I haven’t known my entire life and someone I cannot trust?”

“You will understand that as the future king. You do not need them as your fiance, and that is final. You will be marrying someone from another kingdom to stop us from going to war.” Maleficia had grown strict, firm even. Anyone else wouldn’t dare argue, not even you. You could only stay quiet from the words you were hearing. Your heart began to feel heavy from guilt as if it were a burden.

“What good will that do!? I do not need someone to help me run my life or the kingdom that will be under my wing some time from now!”

“I did it for you! I do not wish to see you become like your parents! You are my only grandson, and I lost your mother to war and the son, your father, I never had just before that. I raised you! Lilia and I were the ones who kept you alive. So, as your grandmother, I want you to keep yourself safe. Do this for yourself.” Maleficia was like a pleading mother. She needed Malleus to understand.

It was all so confusing to you. Malleus was trying to fight, but was it for you or him? Was it for his freedom? Did he love you? No. That couldn’t be it. You had to do something before he would do something drastic. You had to stop him before he could argue more.

Silence. 

Your hand wrapped around his own. Malleus froze from the sudden touch. “It’s okay,” you began softly, putting on a smile before looking up at Malleus.

The touch reminded you of when you snuck into his study as a teenager. You felt stressed once due to your studies and responsibilities becoming a large pile, and Malleus would hold your hand to put you at ease. He helped you with your studies by tutoring and keeping you focused, but concentrating was still difficult with your distant lover just inches away from you during that time. 

That short-lived memory was enough to make you agree to this. You loved him, but it was confusing. He was distant, but sometimes not. You loved him, but it was time. 

“Hey, Malleus?”

“Hmm?”

“What would it be like if I was only your friend, but never your fiance?”

A young Malleus had to think about that, but only one answer came to his mind.

“I would’ve figured out how to become your fiance again.”

Back to the decision before you, you smiled more before looking at Maleficia and squeezing Malleus’ hand lightly.

“I understand, Queen Maleficia. I apologize for no longer meeting your expectations,” you said respectfully. Malleus stared down at you with wide eyes, his hand starting to squeeze yours while it was still in his grasp.

“Don’t say that. You don’t need to do that—”

You shook your head and looked at him, clenching your free hand around his arm to cling to him. “I… wanted to talk to you, anyway. I’d call you my fiance, but you always turned me down. You said you simply accepted the necessity of my obligation as your lover. Now that we have to say our goodbyes, it worked out fine, did it not? I won’t fuss about this decision, as I have no say in the kingdom’s political matters. So, I will simply wish you happiness and good fortune in your marriage, Prince Malleus.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t know a thing.” Malleus whispered and took both of your hands into his, trying to keep himself calm in the midst of all of the mess. “I only rejected you because I wanted to properly propose to you. Only at the right moment between us and—”

“Hey… you don’t have to say any of that. You don’t need to. This is your kingdom. I am simply someone who had to be your lover.” Those words hurt for you to say, and Malleus looked… scared for once. In the time that you’d ever known him, he was the only person you loved. Malleus couldn’t let go of your hand or look away from you. You would disappear, he felt. Hearing those words come out of your mouth was painful enough as is.

You could only give him a bitter smile and force him to let go. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” you whisper and bow to Maleficia, then to Malleus. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me.”

You smile once more before swiftly leaving before anything else could happen. The longer you walked, the more your legs felt like jelly. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to leave. You wanted nothing more but to go back and take back your words. To fight for Malleus. Yet, you would never go against the crown. 

Malleus simply stood there in disbelief with his eyes glued to the door. Maleficia reached out to her grandson, but as soon as her hand landed on his shoulder, he slapped it off. He looked at his grandmother with a look of nothing. Agony. A heart-wrenching anguish clouded his mind and judgment once you had left the room. 

He didn’t want the touch of anyone else but you. How could he lose you so easily? His whole life, he had always gotten what he wanted. Yet, the one time he asked, begged, and pleaded for something in his life, it was stripped away right before his fingertips. Malleus’ body was on auto-pilot from the harsh reality. Then, he moved out of the study, but when he looked up, his body froze at the sight of you running out of the castle.

It was all his fault. He didn’t fight hard enough. Now, he had lost you. How could the Seven betray him so? He never thought that it would be so easy to leave him. To abandon the memories just because someone else requested it.

Once you felt the harsh wind and snow, your eyes began to water. Soon, your heavy breaths turned into heaving sobs. Before you knew it, you found yourself in the forest. How did you even get here? How far did your tired legs get you? What torture could you endure in this state? Then…

Every memory with Malleus started to flash through your head.

Every dance.

Every laugh.

Every touch.

Every look.

Everything. 

Your heaving sobs became screams of heartbreak. Agonized cries echoed throughout the quiet and dark forest of Briar Valley. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The cold didn’t matter when it felt like you left a piece of yourself in the castle. 

Malleus leaned against the wall from the window that he watched you disappear from, closing his eyes when he could hear your cries despite how far you actually were. He couldn’t do anything to fix it this time, not when you were convinced.

Meeting his new fiance was unbearable for Malleus, but he tolerated it. He never remembered any interaction he had with the woman he was supposed to marry now. The wedding was memorable for everyone but him, and you weren’t there. He knew you wouldn’t be there, but he would still smile to himself when he remembered things.

But then it wasn’t too long, maybe a couple of years, until the kingdom celebrated Malleus and his coronation. Everyone with royal status and Malleus' close friends were invited to the after-party celebration. You went alone and stood on the balcony outside, listening to everyone enjoy their festivities. You hadn’t heard about Malleus since you last stepped foot here. It felt like forever ago.

“I didn’t think you would show up. Not after what happened the last time.”

The familiar voice made you perk up and turn around, seeing his tall figure standing at the curtain’s frame. You stood at the stone barricade and smiled slightly at Malleus, bowing to him.

“I didn’t think you would seek my company, King Malleus.”

“That title sounds… weird coming from you,” he admitted, making you both laugh. You look at the horizon to watch the setting sun, going quiet along with him. You had to break the silence.

“So, how are you and your queen?” You asked, causing Malleus to look at you. 

“She is fine. She’s expecting, so she’s taking care of herself instead,” Malleus said, being careful with his words, but you wanted to hide behind your old, playful attitude.

“You were quite fast, weren’t you?” You responded with a laugh, but you could feel your heart breaking already.

“It’s been about two years since we last conversed. I don’t think that’s too fast,” Malleus spoke casually, but you would notice how he looked at you somberly, almost as if he didn’t like it as much as you did.

“I see. I wish the Queen and your child a safe and easy journey.” You said quietly, sounding a bit melancholic. You had to force those words out, and Malleus simply nodded to accept your wishes.

His look made you narrow your eyes towards the ground, not wanting to look at him as you knew it would only cause you more heartbreak.

“Malleus…” You called out quietly, sighing and leaning against the stone.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, looking out into the horizon just like you did moments ago.

After a few minutes of silence, the sun had finally set, turning the sky dark with the moon’s light shining down on you and Malleus.

“Thank you,” you broke the silence first amidst the faint clamor of festivities behind you, “for the chance to be with you for so long.”

Malleus looked at you,  then you looked at him in return. These looks turned into stares. Stares felt like time froze. It was you and him again, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You engraved the details of his face into your head, and he was doing the same for you. When he broke the silence, the bubble around you two still hadn’t popped. 

“You were a wonderful experience,” he said sincerely, giving you a smile.

You smiled back, but before you could respond, others called Malleus over. He tried to stay there, but he was forced away. He was only able to take one more look at you before he disappeared. He faded away like a light swallowed by a deep darkness, which was so strange. It was only a change. 

You still kept your smile after he left. Now, you could say what you wanted.

“You were… everything.”

[twstbookclub]

Inked Blossoms

Summary: Jamil didn't think much of you when he received a flower basket. You were his new neighbor running a flower shop—nothing more, nothing less. So, why can't he stop coming by after visiting you once? POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Tattoo Artist x Florist AU, Tattoo Artist!Jamil, Florist!Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Mentions of Blood and Self-harm, Use of Flower Language, Jamil's POV Word Count: 4, 025 Main Reference for Flower Meanings: Boeckmann, C. (2023, November 17). What does each flower symbolize? The Old Farmer's Almanac.

And I thought the Riddle fic I wrote is my longest one 💀 I actually had this plot in mind in the same month as I thought of the Riddle fic, which was back in April of last year. I only put in one link here, but I fact-checked every flower I used in this fic with other sources. Admittedly, when I wrote this, I received some heartbreaking news that morning and I cried my eyes out. I may or may not have projected those feelings into this and incorporated my previous experiences here. To all the Jamil stans, I'm so sorry that my first fic of this guy is long and angsty. I hope you all enjoy, though 💕

Jamil stared at the flowers on his parlor’s doorstep. Pink peonies and coral roses filled the twine basket, along with a purple flower that he didn’t know the name of. The arrangement emphasized the purple flowers, while there were a few peonies mixed in with the roses. What piqued Jamil’s curiosity were the leaves that lined the edges of the basket. He squinted, subconsciously leaning down to peer at the blooms at his feet.

“... Is that basil?” He mumbled, confused about the inclusion of a familiar herb. It was something he often used in his cooking, particularly when he was roommates with Kalim back in high school. That boy’s palate was too refined for anything bland and ready-made, so Jamil always had to cook with spices and herbs. It came to the point that the smell stuck to his clothes, even after a thorough wash in the laundry. Not just his clothes—even his hair. He already had a meticulous process with his hair care and bejeweled braids, so it was a nuisance.

He shook his head, before he took the flower basket in his hands. The blooms jostled a little, and a gentle hand pushed a peony back in place. Something nagged at Jamil to look to the left, for some reason. When he turned his head, the sign of the shop next door caught his attention.

“A flower shop, huh.” That was new. Jamil vaguely remembered this lot being sold recently, but he never thought it’d be turned into a store like that. It used to be an antique store owned by an elderly woman. She minded her own business, despite the weird and judgmental looks he received for the henna tattoos that decorated Jamil’s tan hands and arms.

Jamil’s eyes darted from the cursive letters of the sign to the flowers and plants displayed behind the glass walls. The name of the shop was painted on one of the walls in gold—above some of the artful arrangements of red roses, white carnations, and calla lilies. There was a shift of color behind them, and he narrowed his eyes again for a better look.

Someone was tending to the flowers. He could vaguely make out the color of their hair and the verdant apron over a white polo shirt. With the large bouquets in the way, Jamil couldn’t see a face. Sighing and shaking his head, he walked into his tattoo parlor with the flower basket in his arms.

If all his time in the city taught him anything, it was that nothing in this world was free.

Still, Jamil couldn’t help but wonder what the purple flowers were. They reminded him of tulips, but the petals were thinner and pointed at the tips. The stamen was visible, too. It was a stark contrast to the blooming tulips he knew: blunt-tipped and oval petals without the stamen being visible. He made a mental note to search about them once he went home.

Jamil found out that the purple blooms were called crocuses, and he wound up finding a website detailing the meanings of every flower imaginable. The flowers replaced the lamp that used to be on the table next to his bed. Every morning, he’d wake up to the colorful arrangement in a vase with his mind stuck on the meaning of each flower.

Maybe he should see what the florist was like. If they were like the antique shop owner from before, then Jamil would just remain polite and ignore them whenever he could.

On a slow and quiet day in the parlor, Jamil flipped the sign and locked the door. He shoved the key in his pocket, while his eyes drifted to the flower displays and bouquets through the glass walls. A blur of white and green moved behind them, but he still couldn’t put a face to the florist.

Jamil would have to see if he was curious enough to put a name to that face, too.

A chime echoed in the store once he stepped inside, and an onslaught of fragrance hit him. He noted that it wasn’t as powerful as the smell of spices, ones that he can taste from the scent alone. Still, it was strong enough to leave him a little lightheaded.

“Ah, welcome!” A voice rang through the back, behind an open door that led to what Jamil assumed was a small greenhouse. Sacks of fertilizer and clay pots filled with flowers peeked out of the metal shelves. The sight was obscured by a green apron, stitched with the same cursive letters of the store sign.

Charcoal gray eyes met lively, cheerful ones. The gloved hands that gripped the door frame were smeared with soil, maybe even fertilizer. Dirt smudged your cheek, but his gaze drifted to your lips. Your smile—too bright to be natural—was difficult to look away from. Something churned in his chest the longer he looked at it.

“Oh,” you mumbled, which made Jamil look back into your eyes again, “you’re my next-door neighbor. Hi! I hope you like the flowers. I’m, uh…”

A sheepish chuckle left your lips, making Jamil’s heart lurch. He resisted the urge to scowl at the feeling. He just met you, and he’d rather not make a bad impression. The tattoo artist came to your store to meet you like a proper neighbor, not to antagonize you.

“I came by to say hi, and you weren’t there. I had to get the shop ready and all, so I decided to leave the basket and hope that it stays there—” You sighed, took off one of your gloves, and ran a hand through your hair— “and I’m rambling. Sorry about that.”

Jamil watched you, anxious and fidgety, and he suppressed a smile. There was something amusing about how you acted like a mouse: squeaking and retreating at any sign of danger. Although, he highly doubted that you saw him as a threat.

You were just… shy. You talked a lot, but you were shy.

“It’s fine,” Jamil raised a hand and smiled, practiced and polite, “and I appreciate the flowers. Thank you. It’s a beautiful arrangement—you have a way with bringing out their natural beauty.”

He probably laid it on too thick. It was a habit at this point: butter up people to ease them, to let their guard down. Jamil merely planned to meet this florist to satisfy his curiosity. He never considered the option of befriending this person, much less engaging in a long conversation with you.

Your face lit up, as if something dawned on you in that moment. Chuckling, you stretched out the hand without the glove and gave him your name. It was followed with a cheerful, “It’s nice to meet you! I hope we can get along, um…”

“Jamil,” he shook your hand with that same, practiced smile, “Jamil Viper. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He noticed your eyes dart towards his hand and arm, inked with the traditional motifs and patterns of his homeland. Under the sunlight that streamed through the glass, your eyes seemed to sparkle. Your mouth parted in a silent, “Oh.”

“That’s so pretty,” you blurted out and continued to stare at the henna tattoos. Jamil simply watched you with wide eyes, but the surprise disappeared in that same instant. Your voice, loud and happy, filled the silence of the room.

“The amount of detail here is amazing, and—Oh, there’s even more tiny patterns inside another pattern. That’s so cool!”

Even though this much praise usually annoyed Jamil (it reminded him too much of Kalim), he found himself flustered. A faint warmth spread across his cheeks as he watched you marvel at the tattoos. You raised a hand, probably to trace the design with a finger, when you paused.

Your smile was frozen on your face, as if you caught yourself doing something embarrassing. Your own cheeks flushed in shame, before you pulled away with a nervous giggle. Jamil almost laughed at how ridiculous you looked at the moment.

He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that called you cute.

It was supposed to be a one-time encounter. Jamil only visited your flower shop to see the person who opened a new business next to his tattoo parlor. He wanted to see whether this new neighbor of his was going to be tolerable or otherwise. One meeting was enough to deem you tolerable; someone that Jamil could politely wave to if you two happened to pass by each other.

So, why was he looking at a bouquet of irises and white jasmines right now? Why was he standing in your store on a Sunday morning?

“You’ve been coming a lot here lately.” Your voice rang from the back, much like how Jamil first met you. He looked over his shoulder to see you admiring the other flowers with a small smile.

“I don’t mind, really, and it’s nice to have you here. I just didn’t expect you to come here almost every day,” you clarified with a chuckle as you approached him. The telltale flush of your cheeks already told Jamil about how embarrassed you were to confess that. He watched you caress one of the petals of a hydrangea with a gentle look.

For a weekend, it was surprisingly quiet here. People flocked to your store during its first week, and Jamil observed all this in the comfort of his parlor. The window provided a clear view of what was going on, so he didn’t need to go outside. You became frazzled in a matter of moments—running around and arranging the flowers yourself—and that amused Jamil. Just a bit.

Still, you smiled throughout that hectic week.

Me neither, Jamil wanted to say. Instead, he answered, “It’s another slow day in my shop, so I decided to visit. I suppose it’s become a habit whenever I have nothing else to do.”

You chuckled, and Jamil pretended his heart didn’t skip a beat. He ignored the twitch of his lips, curling into a small smile. Oblivious to the look the tattoo artist gave you, you continued to admire the flowers.

“That’s fine with me. Besides, I like your company.”

Your shameless honesty was going to be the death of Jamil. The tips of his ears grew warm, and he tugged his hood over them. He already concluded that you were a thoughtful and considerate person after spending some time with you. You prepared tea and cookies, ones you yourself baked, every time he visited. Careful hands arranged the flowers by meaning and color, which already said enough about you. Being a florist sounded just right for someone like you.

Jamil briefly wondered what flowers you’d give him if you wanted to give him a bouquet.

He cleared his throat, mimicking a cough, before he shifted his attention to the irises and jasmines again. Ever since he searched the meanings of the flowers in that basket, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Can you tell me what these mean in flower language?” He asked, glancing at you from behind his hood. Whether you found this action odd or not, you didn’t comment on it.

With a curious hum, you leaned over to look at what Jamil referred to and smiled wider. You replied, “Ah, irises can mean wisdom, faith, trust, valor, and hope. As for white jasmines…”

You raised an eyebrow at Jamil with a mischievous grin. He didn’t dare entertain the thought that you were being adorable from the action alone. He didn’t dare hope that the gesture actually meant something.

“They can mean sweet love, and the person who receives them is seen as friendly and pleasant.” You paused, before you suddenly left Jamil’s side and reached for the adjacent wall of flowers. Before Jamil could say anything, you already extended a white bloom under his nose.

Wide-eyed and bewildered, he stared at the flower in your hand. It somewhat resembled a rose in full bloom, but the petals were shaped differently. Another amused laugh echoed in the room. You took his hand, inked with intricate patterns that crawled his skin like vines, and placed the flower in it.

Jamil realized that it was a gardenia. This species of flora grew in some part of the botanical garden of his high school. He was only familiar with it because he used to pass by the area to relax, preferably alone.

“I think this suits you, though.” You hummed and returned to the counter with a spin of your heel. Jamil watched you wordlessly as you disappeared into the greenhouse. From where he stood, the tattoo artist saw pink and white camellias peeking through one of the shelves. He nearly jumped when your head popped out of the door frame.

“Oh, and can you help me carry some of these pots around? They’re pretty heavy, thanks!”

It was only until Jamil got home that he searched for the meaning of the gardenia. The bright laptop screen glared at him as he entered the keywords in the search bar. He clicked on the first result and—

Jamil stared at the words with darkening cheeks. His mouth became dry, and his tongue was tied into knots. His hand slammed the monitor shut, before he abruptly stood up and left for the kitchen. He needed some water. He needed to not think too much into things. You were going to be the death of him, Jamil swore to that.

Still, the words were already seared into his memory: you’re lovely.

Jamil found himself visiting you whenever he could. You always asked for his help whenever heavy labor was involved. If it was anyone else, he would’ve felt annoyed. With you, it was just an excuse for Jamil to stay longer.

Fleeting touches, subtle glances, and shy smiles—it was like your own language. Not a single word was exchanged, yet it felt like you said more than Jamil could comprehend. He didn’t miss the moments when your hands lingered too long over his. He would be a fool not to notice that a cookie jar and a box of teabags sat on the counter each time he visited.

For the past year, you’d give him a single flower every day without fail. One time, after the usual tea, it was a morning glory. Another time, when you were particularly homesick and Jamil stayed to chat, you gave him a hydrangea. When he visited your house and took care of you when you became sick, you gave him a yellow lily the next day. He always brought them home, but it came to the point that a mishmash of flowers in a vase brought color and life to his workspace. It sat under the window, where it bathed under a patch of sunlight. He even considered buying another vase due to the sheer amount.

You gave him all kinds of flowers, but he’d never forget the first gardenia he received from you.

“That looks out of place,” one customer pointed out while Jamil prepared the needle. He already knew what he was talking about, but the tattoo artist still followed his line of sight. A soft smile stretched from one ear to the other, and he didn’t bother hiding it.

Without looking away from the flowers, he answered, “They’re gifts from a friend. It’s the only place I can think of where they can be cared for.”

He ignored the sly, knowing grin on the customer’s face. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Jamil gestured towards the chair and continued to prepare everything he needed for this job.

One sunny day, your storefront was crowded more than usual. Jamil paid no mind to the crowd as he pulled his hood over his head. Inked hands grabbed a bundle of flowers, tied with twine, from the table. They were placed far from the vases that decorated the parlor; just to avoid confusion. His eyes fell on the gardenia he drew on the back of his hand. Jamil added that some time ago, maybe around the past month. Still, it made him smile.

Jamil locked the door, then he instinctively looked at the flower shop. His heart stuttered at the sight of the flowers amongst the crowd. The vibrant and lively blossoms were like a splash of color against the dull tones of the city. What used to be gray pavement and monochrome buildings seemed to come to life with just a few flowers.

He blinked his surprise away, before he gripped the bouquet in his hands. The thrum of his heart and the sweat on his palms weren’t something foreign to Jamil. He always felt like this at the thought of you, even Kalim noticed the change in his friend when he visited once. Your smile flashed in his mind, and his own lips curled into a small one. His feet led him to where he knew you were.

Past the flower shop; past the crowd that lingered at the storefront; past the fresh flowers that gathered against the glass walls. Jamil’s feet grew heavier with each step, as if lead hit the concrete and left faint cracks behind. He stepped through the iron-wrought gates with a soft exhale. His grip on the flowers tightened. He considered going back to the tattoo parlor.

In the end, he thought he’d regret it if he backed out now. Blades of grass grazed his sneakers as he walked through rows of stones. Names were etched into each one, a reminder of who they were to the loved ones left behind. Charcoal gray eyes looked straight ahead. He didn’t bother looking at any of them.

It had been a year since that day, but he still remembered where you were.

Grass crunched under his feet as he stopped in front of an unassuming headstone. Engraved in the stone was your name—funny how he never knew your surname until the funeral. You never told him when you introduced yourself, and he didn’t pry. He even imagined you with his surname at some point, but…

Jamil swallowed the lump in his throat. He crouched on one knee and laid the bundle of flowers on your grave. The tattoo artist made the effort of arranging the colorful blooms in a way that you would. At least, how he remembered that you would.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, and he stared at your gravestone with that same lump in his throat. A sigh rang in the empty cemetery. A cool breeze carried the hustle and bustle of the city. The laugh that used to plague Jamil’s everyday life here was missing. It was gone for months now, but he could still hear it clearly in his head.

“Hey,” Jamil mumbled, clenching his hands into fists, “it’s been a while. I’m sorry I only visited today. It… took me some time to come to terms with what happened. Regardless, you deserved an earlier visit.”

No answer, Of course, there was no answer. You’ve been dead for quite some time now. That was an understatement, considering that a year has already passed.

Jamil’s stomach churned, and an insufferable heat filled his chest. His eyes stung. His nails pierced into the skin of his palms. The lump in his throat seemed to grow bigger, and he found it hard to breathe. Memories of your smile, your laugh, and the time he spent with you and your flowers overlapped in his mind.

He dug his heels into the dirt as he gritted his teeth. The sting behind his eyes grew worse. It was hard to breathe, and he found it harder to speak. He somehow forced the words out with a broken heart, pieces scattered along the ashes of what was left of you.

“You idiot,” Jamil choked out as his vision blurred with tears, “you could’ve called me to help you. How was I supposed to know you were still sick? How was I supposed to know you needed to carry that ridiculously huge flower display across the street? How was I supposed to know that car would lose control and—”

Jamil looked up to the sky with a clenched jaw, teeth clacking and shaking his skull from the force. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse whatever deity existed in this world. He wanted to forget how you looked, pale and bleeding on the street, that day. He wanted to erase that memory of you until his heart bled out and his voice croaked its last scream.

“—they haven’t found the driver. Everyone who knew you petitioned to keep the shop in your memory. Someone else took over, too. You don’t have to worry about your flowers anymore.”

Since that day, whenever Jamil looked at the ink that adorned his hands and arms, all he remembered was your loud voice and bright smile. Your praise and astonishment echoed in his head like a broken record player. He couldn’t count the amount of times he tried to scrub them clean from his skin. If that didn’t work, he scratched at them until he bled and the patterns were hidden under that shade of red.

In hindsight, Jamil thought that was idiotic of him. Love turned anyone into idiots, anyway.

Sighing, Jamil forced the tears back and looked down at your gravestone. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine you smiling and laughing again. The image of you, lifeless and still on the road, would become a scar that faded with time. He hoped it would be.

“I thought of giving you baby’s breath,” Jamil began as the lump in his throat returned, “along with forget-me-nots, and blue salvia. It would be a horrible contrast, but I also thought of adding pink carnations.”

He paused, before bitterly chuckling to himself. “I don’t have your skills, though. You were always amazing with flower arrangements. I couldn’t hold a candle to you, and I rarely tell anyone that. I didn’t want to give you something that was less than perfect—you deserve more than that, so I settled with sweet peas.”

Jamil knew he was talking to himself. He always found it ridiculous how anyone talked to the dead, even if he understood the necessity to respect the ones who passed. This one time, he understood why people did this. Jamil just couldn’t bring himself to accept the circumstances that led to that revelation.

“They mean goodbye in flower language, but I prefer the other meaning. Maybe, in another life, I would’ve bought you flowers for a date. I was thinking of asking you on a date before. Did you know that?”

Another bitter chuckle. Another shaky breath.

“I was supposed to ask you that day. I finally found the courage to try, and what did I see? You…” The words were stuck in Jamil’s throat. He couldn’t force the words out this time. The clamor outside and the harsh slam of his parlor door echoed in his memories. He didn’t want his last memory of you to be your dying breath. He’d rather not remember that at all.

Jamil shook his head and continued, “I apologize for that. What you need to know is that I like you. I may even go so far as to say I love you, and I’m sorry I never told you earlier. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

The tattoo artist sat down in front of your headstone. He didn’t care if dirt and grass stained his jeans this time. He reached out to trace the name etched into the stone, with the same hand where the inked gardenia peeked out of his sleeve.

“I like your flowers. I like all of them. I still keep them with me. I wish I told you that sooner,” Jamil mumbled, voice cracking at the end. A tear rolled down his left cheek and dripped into the soil. His shoulders shook in a silent sob as he breathed his last words to you.

“Thank you for a lovely time. I’ll never forget you.”

[twstbookclub]

Our transition + update!

Happy one year, TBC.

Hello, our followers and/or people coming across this post. We have a pretty important update to share with all today.

So, it has been a year since we made this page, and soon, it’ll be a year since we first posted, and both of these are extremely exciting but also kind of disappointing because we have not been updating as frequently as we used to.

When we started this page, we were excited and full of creativity to constantly post once our stories were done being written and proofread. Now, while we have given time to write other fics on other topics, we have been waiting for Admin Cat to finish her side of the fluff topics that we started on.

Now, to give a little spoiler…

We have plans for angst and horror tropes right now, and this is what this update is about.

For the past few months, Admin Kai and Admin Cressa have been writing and writing when we can and we have just been WAITING to post these because we are genuinely really proud of how far we’ve come with them and we have been wanting to share them with you all.

We were not kidding when we said that one of Cressa’s fics made Kai cry, and Kai made Cressa cuss them out with one of the ones they wrote. A few times we have cried writing our own stories. They have put through endless effort and strife, but at the end of the day, we cannot keep waiting.

So, we’re going to stop making an order on how we post our fics, and not worry about posting an angst after fluff, or a horror after a crack fic, because honestly, we don’t have the time for that.

As our followers know(or at least the people who read the admin introduction posts), Admin Cat and Cressa are in college, but Kai is not, at least not yet. They will be going in soon enough which means less time to constantly post, but don’t worry, we aren’t abandoning the page or handing it down to someone else.

We are simply taking a step back to make sure we aren’t overwhelmed or stressing over school, work, life, and what have you. Admin Kai is already posting a few of their new fics to AO3 which you can find by searching up ‘ka1zuha’ on the page, and Cressa also has the current fics from Tumblr on AO3 which you can find by searching ‘Melancholia_Cressa’

Now, be on the lookout for a few certain fics that will get us going into this transition and it will be going up on the page once confirmation is given that we are okay to post. We know a few of you have made requests and trust me, we are going to get those out but they will take a while due to the admins having busy schedules right now.

Remember, we appreciate every single one of our readers. We even appreciate the ones who read and leave a like, or repost but don’t follow us. Just giving us your time is amazing enough as is. It has been a long year, a tough one at that, and quite a lot has happened, but we are hoping to have many more, and hoping to see more and more people enjoy our fics as much as we enjoy writing them.

Thank you for your time,

TBC Admins.

[twstbookclub]

About the admins; 1

Would you guys believe me if I said that Admin Cressa made me shed a tear over one of the fanfics we've written recently?

It's okay I made her cuss me out with the next one I made too 🤭

- admin kai⚔

[twstbookclub]

Words of Love

Summary: Ace could be better at a relationship. How could it be? He never learned how. Instead of being taught, he was attacked by his ex-girlfriend's friends for not doing something. It'll be different this time. You'll make sure of that. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Ace Trappola, Slight comedy, Romance, Fluff, First date with Ace, Ice skating date, Ace is still a little shit Word Count: 1,041

A/N: Man... The amount of trouble I had writing a smitten Ace who didn't want to admit his feelings was like whiplash. I thought I knew how to write the boy, but I was wrong. Honestly, this could've been done better, and maybe I'll rewrite one when I can, but I am still satisfied with this one. Thank you for reading!

Ace was a good person, and it was surprising to see him come up to you to ask you out. Though, as soon as you said yes, he ran off while trying to act all cool? Then he would give you a winter hat and a pair of gloves, only saying, “Make sure to wear them to our date” and leave it at that. You did like him, that part was admittable, but as for the reason why—

“Good Seven, I can tell why his ex-girlfriend was into him… But I can tell why she left him,” you whispered while watching Ace grab food from the building’s cafe. He’s a sweet kid, really, but…

GEEZ, THE AWKWARD TENSION IS UNBEARABLE.

You sighed and looked towards Ace, staring briefly before smiling and looking down at the ground. The atmosphere was filled with screams, laughs, and the scraping of blades against ice, since Ace decided to surprise you with a date to an ice skating rink on your day off before winter break began. It was his way of spending time with you, but how could you blame him for trying?

He’s such a mess, and he can be too blunt for one’s comfort—not to mention a slacker… but he’s cute.

What? Gotta give credit where credit is due, right? Anyway…

“Oi, how are you feeling?” Ace asked while walking back to you and setting down the food on the table, then he fixed his scarf that was hanging off your neck. He felt cold to the touch, but how could he not? He sacrificed his warmth to give it to you, then he let you fall on your ass right after. How fun.

“Hmm… I’m warmer than I was before, but I’m still in pain thanks to someone letting me fall,” you responded sarcastically, knowing it would strike a nerve within the boy. After that, you took a fry from his meal and ate away, as if indifferent to his offense.

“Hey! I said I was sorry, and I’m buying you food. Is that not enough for forgiveness?” He spoke with that look again—the sharp edges of his eyes softening, brows furrowed, and lips pulled into a frown. It wasn’t the usual harsh scowl, but it was… more gentle and hesitant.

It was something he had done quite a bit tonight.

You snapped your head at him and raised an eyebrow. “That’s the bare minimum, Ace! Is this how you treated your girlfriend from middle school?”

He went quiet, but not from anger. He started thinking, really. The fact that he had to think about it was concerning enough as is.

“Honestly…” He said, still pondering. “I never really did this kind of stuff for her.”

“Oh. My. Seven.” You could only sigh from disappointment, wondering how such a good guy could be so… clueless. You ran a hand through your hair, before standing up and giving him back his jacket.

“Ace, you’re a great person. You know that, you even boast about it sometimes—which kudos to you for that.”

Ace raised an eyebrow at your words since he was only hearing compliments. This made him shiver in his timbers, for a lack of a better word in this description. “Buuuut…?”

“Get yourself together!” You yelled, giving him a bonk on the head afterwards for dramatic effect.

“Ow! Fine, geez.” Ace sighed, putting his jacket back on you again and fixing your hair. “Yeah, I’m pretty clueless on this relationship and romance stuff—”

Oh really? Didn’t know that.

“—I rarely took my past girlfriend out on dates or hangouts, not even to walk around. You’re different,” Ace said with a sincere look in his eye, but his view wasn’t directed at you. It was towards the floor. You could only sigh and move your hand to hold his. 

“Ace…” You started, took a breath, then looked at him with a small smile. “You're a great guy on your own. I don't need you to impress me in some way just because I'm someone you want to be with.”

“I know, but you're different from others who've confessed, different from my middle school relationship, and I… really want to be with you,” he said carefully, giving your hand a squeeze for his own reassurance. The love in his eyes just made the moment a lot sweeter.

You felt your heart begin to melt. You knew having a crush on him was so right, but you just needed to find the reason why. You move your other hand to his cheek to make him look at you directly.

“Then, just do what you think is right. Go with the flow and we can figure the rest out together. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your words and touch made Ace relax, and he slowly gave you a snarky grin. “What I think is right, you say?” His tone was mischievous, and before you knew it, he pulled you back onto the ice rink.

“Hey–! What are you doing!? Ace!” You yelled, seeing him start to move around with you on the ice. He laughed at you and moved slowly so as to not hurt you, even keeping you close until you could get the hang of it.

“Come on! I took you out to have fun, so fun we'll have!” Ace said with a laugh, keeping you close while pulling you with him.

The ice made the place cold and the spins would make you dizzy, but it couldn't compare to the warmth you both began to feel for one another, like hearts intertwining into one.

After the date, he was walking you home, hand in hand, unable to look towards your direction. You noticed this and smiled, wanting to tease him about it.

“Look at you… All smiles. I've never seen this from you before.”

“I've never had someone tell me I could be myself. My ex was wanting me to change for her, but where's the fun in that?” Ace said, making both of you laugh.

Finally, he let you go before you got to your door. He watched you again with those eyes, the ones you grew accustomed to in those few hours. Who knew words would have meant so much?