#Lilia vanrouge x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solxamber · 1 day ago

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Lease and Let Die || Lilia Vanrouge

You needed a roommate. You got Lilia Vanrouge. He’s upside down on your ceiling, burns every meal, might be immortal—and weirdly? He’s perfect.

You’ve hit rock bottom. Not the dramatic, movie kind—no, this is the quiet, pathetic kind where your roommate runs off to “find themselves” in a polycule commune and leaves you with the full rent and a fridge that smells like betrayal.

Running on three hours of sleep, gas station muffins, and a caffeine tolerance that borders on war crime, you post the most honest roommate ad you can manage:

“Please, just pay rent on time and don’t leave knives in the sink. Or summoning circles. I’m tired.”

Five minutes later, your phone pings.

“I’ve never missed rent, my knives are ceremonial, and I haven’t summoned a proper demon in decades. When do I move in? —L.V.”

You blink at your phone. You reread the message. You decide it’s probably fine.

Twenty-four hours later, Lilia Vanrouge shows up at your door.

He’s wearing a leather jacket, eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass, and a smile like he knows exactly how you’re going to die—and thinks it’s kind of cute.

“You must be my new roommate!” he chirps, setting down a suitcase that audibly hums.

You nod slowly, brain buffering. “Are you... bringing more stuff?”

“Oh, no,” he says, cheerfully. “Just this. And the coffin.”

“The what—”

But he’s already inside, complimenting your curtains and asking where the nearest leyline convergence is.

You stare blankly. Somewhere in the apartment, the Wi-Fi cuts out.

You have no idea what the hell you just signed up for.

But at least he promised that he does his own dishes.

It started off sweet. Really, it did.

You had late evening classes three times a week and by the time you trudged across campus toward home, the only light came from flickering streetlamps and your phone screen at 3% battery.

One night, as you packed your things into your bag, Lilia appeared beside you like a helpful poltergeist.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said cheerfully, slinging your bag over his shoulder before you could argue.

Your first reaction? Touched. Emotional. Betrayed by your own sentimentality. Because nobody had ever said anything that nice to you on this hell-washed campus. Not your professors, not your classmates, not even your overpriced coffee machine, which had begun growling whenever you approached.

You looked at him with stars in your eyes and said, “That’s… really kind. Thank you.”

He shrugged, the picture of casual coolness, if casual coolness was wearing a floor-length black cloak and bat earrings. “The darkness listens better when I’m near.”

And that was when the stars in your eyes shriveled and died.

You blinked. “I’m sorry, the what?”

“The darkness,” he said, like this was self-explanatory. “It whispers sometimes. And when I’m around, it’s polite about it.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Reopened it. “And… that’s supposed to be comforting?”

“It means I’ll hear if anything wants to drag you into an abyss. I can bargain with those.” He beamed at you. “Some of them owe me favors.”

You stared at the sidewalk as you walked. You were no longer sure if this was a sweet gesture or a prelude to demonic possession.

At one point, a crow landed on a lamppost and screamed. Lilia tilted his head and murmured something in a language you didn’t know, and the crow just nodded and flew away.

You weren’t sure if you should feel safer.

“Lilia,” you said cautiously, “do I need to be worried?”

He laughed, delighted. “Oh, no! You’re not a threat to the veil between realms. Not yet.”

You did not like the word yet. Not one bit.

Still… you made it home. Your front door was mysteriously unlocked (Lilia claimed the house “let him in”), the kitchen light had fixed itself, and your dying plant had perked up. So maybe walking home with your roommate wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

You just had to make peace with the fact that the shadows sometimes waved at him.

And that he waved back.

You were dying. There was no other way to describe it.

The dining table was a battlefield: open textbooks stacked like defensive walls, notes scattered like fallen soldiers, and a graveyard of empty mugs bearing silent witness to your descent into academic hell. Your eye twitched. The caffeine was doing nothing. You were 84% sure your soul had left your body three hours ago. The only thing keeping your bones upright was spite.

“I swear to every cruel god out there,” you muttered, “if I don’t pass this exam, I’m just gonna lay down in the student union and let the crushing weight of debt take me.”

From the couch—where he had been laying upside down like an actual bat for the past twenty minutes—Lilia made a thoughtful noise.

“Do you require reinforcements? A siege beast, perhaps? I have a minor distraction spell that summons a screaming goat—”

“I need silence,” you hissed, snapping your highlighter in half with the ferocity of a person pushed beyond reason.

“Oh,” he said, far too delighted. “Say no more.”

He snapped his fingers.

There was a pop and then—nothing. Utter, blissful, terrifying silence. You blinked. The world was muffled in a sparkling purple haze. It was like someone had wrapped your brain in a pillow and told all your problems to go wait outside.

You got two pages of notes done before the smell hit you.

Burnt.

Burning.

Popcorn?

You looked up just in time to see a column of smoke trailing lazily from the kitchen.

You screamed. You didn’t hear it.

Lilia waved at you cheerfully from inside the fire alarm’s muted chaos.

You were too tired to cry and too caffeinated to blink. The popcorn was ruined, the fire alarm had only just stopped shrieking, and Lilia was poking at the charred remains in the microwave like it was a curious new species.

"I thought I had it set to two minutes," he said cheerfully, as if the kitchen wasn’t filled with smoke and the smell of scorched sadness.

“You set it to twenty,” you croaked, pointing accusingly at the still-blinking numbers. “Twenty minutes, Lilia.”

“Ah. So that’s what the little zeroes were for.” He turned around, beaming like a deranged warlock. “Good news is—I know just the thing to cheer you up.”

“No,” you said immediately. “Lilia, no.”

But it was already too late. He clapped his hands once, a ripple of eldritch magic shimmered through the air, and with a flash of light and a small puff of brimstone, something appeared.

Stanley, the goat.

He stood in the middle of your scorched kitchen. Just… stood there. He had little beady eyes, unimpressed with this plane of existence. A single bell jingled around his neck like it was mocking you personally.

And then he screamed.

It was the sound of every due date you’d missed, every essay you’d written at 3 a.m., every existential panic you’d had at the grocery store over the rising price of cheese. It was a scream that echoed through your soul and possibly opened a portal to another realm for a second.

Stanley screamed again. Lilia clapped, delighted.

“He’s motivated troops into battle before,” he said proudly. “And one time, a wedding.”

You stared at the ceiling. “I am going to be arrested. They’re going to cite you as the reason and the judge will nod solemnly because they’ll get it.”

Stanley climbed onto the counter and knocked over your last mug of coffee.

Lilia looked at you with the serene calm of someone who has caused kingdoms to fall. “Would you like me to summon Stanley’s cousin? Her name is Beatrice.”

You sank to the floor. “I just wanted popcorn.”

Stanley screamed.

It starts innocently. A Tuesday. You’re behind on three assignments, your laundry smells like something died in it (possibly your GPA), and Lilia is humming in the kitchen while making (very burnt) eggs in a suspiciously perfect spiral. Nothing unusual.

Until you open your history textbook.

You're scanning for bullet points—just enough to fake engagement during tomorrow’s class—and then you see it.

The name.

Lilia Vanrouge. Underlined. Bolded. In a war tactics section titled "Unconventional Victory: The Northern Siege and the General Who Outsmarted Death."

There’s even a sketched portrait. It’s him. Smirking like he knows something you don’t. Which is probably true.

You sit there for a moment, staring at the page, then at the kitchen doorway. Then back at the page.

Then you scream.

Lilia pokes his head in. “What’s wrong? Ghost in the textbook?”

“You’re in the textbook!” you shout, holding it up like it might exorcise him.

He blinks at it, tilts his head. “Oh. That one. I told them not to use that portrait, it’s terribly outdated. My cheekbones are much sharper now.”

“YOU’RE A WAR GENERAL.”

He grins. “Was. Ages ago. The title’s more of a... dusty old accessory now.”

You pace. “I’ve been yelling at you about buying sugary cereal for weeks.”

“You called me a ‘coward of capitalism.’” He sounds fond. “It was very compelling.”

“I made you split a bag of off-brand marshmallows with me because I couldn’t afford dinner.”

He beams. “It was charming! Very wartime spirit of you.”

You throw yourself face-first into your pillow and scream until the pillow gives up.

“I didn’t think you’d care for old titles.”

“I care that you’re in a textbook!”

He sits beside you, offering the plate. “I also invented this egg spiral. There’s a footnote about it in Chapter Seven.”

You consider the egg. You consider your life.

And then you accept the plate. Because apparently you’re living with a retired war general who hoards cereal and hums lullabies in ancient dialects.

And somehow, this still isn’t the weirdest week you’ve had.

You don’t ask him seriously at first. It’s a joke—half a groan, half a petty fantasy as you drag yourself home from another night class, your arms sore from carrying too many books and your pride bruised from yet another “spirited” discussion with your favorite nemesis: Professor Drywall Brain.

“I swear to the gods, Lilia,” you mutter as you slam the door behind you, “if that man says ‘technically that isn’t historically accurate’ one more time, I’m going to scream in four different languages. Loudly. In his office. While holding a tambourine.”

Lilia, sprawled upside-down on the couch in his usual dramatic corpse pose, peeks open one eye. “Want me to come with you next time?”

You laugh. “God, imagine. You in class with me. You’d eat him alive.”

But the next time your professor interrupts you for the third time in one sentence to cite a source he co-wrote with his own ego, something in you snaps.

Lilia shows up twenty minutes early the next class.

He’s wearing:

• A sparkly lavender Hello Kitty hoodie.

• Black platform boots that make him almost legally too powerful.

• A “#1 Gamer Granddad” hat, slightly crooked.

• A notebook. A very serious notebook. Labeled in bold marker: “HUMAN RITUALS (vol. I)”

You blink. “...This isn’t what I meant when I said ‘scare him.’”

“Too much?” he asks innocently, spinning the hat backwards like this is a very niche sitcom. “I can lose the boots.”

“No. Keep them. I want them burned into his memory.”

He does sit in on class. The professor, clearly confused but trying to be professional, asks who he is.

Lilia doesn’t answer with his name. He just smiles and says, “Observer of mortal wisdom,” and opens his notebook like he’s ready to witness a natural disaster.

Every time the professor says something snide or borderline wrong, Lilia makes a show of scribbling a note with an expression of mild horror. At one point he even raises a hand—a single gloved finger, dainty as sin—and asks if “contradicting published data is part of the mortal learning experience.”

By the end of the class, your professor looks like he’s aged six years.

On the walk home, Lilia loops his arm through yours and hums. “That was very educational. I should attend more.”

“Please don’t,” you whisper, though you’re also grinning. “You’re going to get me expelled.”

“Not if I become the dean first,” he says cheerfully.

You don’t know if he’s joking. You don’t ask.

You just feel very safe walking home that nihgt.

The day your professor emailed your grade, you were still deep in the throes of post-group-project resentment. You hadn’t slept. Your eye had developed a twitch. You’d seen God briefly while editing the final slide deck at 3AM and He told you to log off. You didn’t.

You were still thinking about it. Sitting on the kitchen floor in socks that did not match, eating cold instant ramen with a fork because all the chopsticks had mysteriously disappeared (you suspect Lilia), and rereading your group’s submission like it was a cursed tome. Because somehow, somehow, it was… good?

Like disturbingly good.

It started normal. Blah blah, feudal kingdoms, blah blah, agricultural collapse—but halfway through, it got weirdly intense. The writing shifted from standard student filler to vivid descriptions of battlefield strategy and personal loss. There were diary entries from a dying soldier. Quotes like:

“The horses screamed louder than the men.”

Who wrote that?

You didn’t write that.

Your groupmates definitely didn’t write that—one of them tried to cite Wikipedia by just linking it in the footnotes and calling it a day.

And then you saw it. On the last page, listed under "Additional Resources":

• Blood-Soaked Memoirs, Vol. II

• War and Tea: Reflections of a Veteran General

• Me (I Was There), by L.V.

You stared at the screen.

Then you turned slowly—so slowly—to face the upside-down body perched on your living room ceiling like a decorative gargoyle.

“Lilia,” you said, voice trembling, “did you write my paper?”

He flipped mid-air and landed soundlessly, mug of tea in hand, wearing his fuzzy bat slippers and a shirt that said Don’t Talk To Me Until I’ve Had My Potion.

“Of course I did,” he said cheerfully. “I couldn’t just let you hand in that disaster your groupmates conjured. I’d seen more structure in a battlefield charge made by drunk goblins.”

You blinked. “You used actual war stories.”

“Well, I was there."

“YOU CITED YOURSELF.”

“And they say self-reflection is dead.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to get expelled for plagiarism from a guy who fought in the Demon Rebellion of 1043.”

He patted your head. “Nonsense. I am the primary source.”

You screamed. The fire alarm went off again. Lilia casually waved away the smoke from your scorched popcorn and floated back to the ceiling.

You got an A+.

You never looked your professor in the eyes again.

The ramen’s cold. You’re sitting on the linoleum like you’ve lost all connection to chairs and dignity. Your laptop screen glows ominously from the counter, blinking with the cheerful menace of “Project Scores Available Now!” and you, a coward, have chosen denial.

It’s not dramatic. It’s survival.

You twirl a limp noodle around your fork and sigh like a Victorian widow. “If I fail this class, I’m going to live in a bog.”

From above, something shifts. A soft creak. You don’t even flinch anymore.

Lilia is upside down on your kitchen ceiling, arms crossed like a sleeping bat, hair dangling like he styled it specifically for zero gravity. His eyes are glowing just slightly in the dim light of the fridge. His entire posture says: I live here. Get used to it.

“You’ll be fine,” he says in that lilting tone of someone who has definitely hexed a registrar before.

You stare at him and jab your fork in his general direction. “Are you here to flirt with me or drink my blood?”

A beat.

“Yes,” he says, all teeth.

You shovel another bite of ramen into your mouth because honestly? Sounds great either way.

He drifts down from the ceiling a moment later, floating like an unsettling balloon and landing in a crouch beside you.

“You know,” he murmurs, peering into your bowl, “when I was in training, we had to fight actual hydras for credit. These grades mean nothing.”

“Yeah, well,” you grumble, “I’m fighting for my life against microwave deadlines and soul-crushing group projects.”

Lilia hums thoughtfully. “Still might be harder than the hydras.”

You blink at him. “...Really?”

“No,” he says sweetly. “But I am proud of you.”

And somehow, the noodles taste a little better after that.

It’s late. The kind of late where everything is quiet, the hum of the fridge is loud, and the streetlights cast long, sleepy shadows through the kitchen window. You’re both where you usually end up—on the floor, cross-legged, surrounded by mismatched mugs and half-eaten snacks, your laptop forgotten somewhere under a throw blanket.

You don’t know why you ask it. Maybe it’s the way he brewed your favorite tea without you asking. Maybe it’s the way he always waits until your shoulders slump before he starts playing that dumb, soothing lo-fi playlist. Maybe it’s just… him.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask.

Lilia doesn’t answer right away. He tilts his head, as if tasting the weight of your question in the air. His expression softens—not his usual mischievous grin or teasing smirk, but something quieter. Something old.

“Because,” he says, voice low, “I once led a thousand men into war for less than a kind word.”

He looks at you then, and it feels like the air stills.

“And you give them to me freely.”

“I was never quite friend. Never quite equal. Not really.”

His voice doesn’t change, but your heart lurches anyway.

“But you—” He finally glances down at you, eyes glowing faint in the dark kitchen light. “You argue with me about cereal. You yell at me to do the dishes. You make me playlists.”

He grins, crooked and fond. “You treat me like a person.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Not even a joke. Not even a deflection.

You blink too fast. You pretend it’s dust in your eye. You laugh like it’s a silly thing to say, like your throat isn’t tight and your chest isn’t aching in that strange, warm way he always brings.

He doesn’t call you out on it. He just passes you a cookie shaped like a bat and starts humming a song you don’t know but wish you did.

You think you’re in trouble.

You also think you don’t mind.

You burst through the front door like you’ve been launched from a cannon, nearly trip on your own shoes, and absolutely yeet your bag across the living room.

Lilia, as always, is committing war crimes in the kitchen. The smoke alarm gave up trying weeks ago. Today’s offense appears to be something that was probably lasagna and is now definitely a smoldering, unidentifiable cube.

He turns, oven mitts on both hands, looking entirely unbothered. “Oh? What’s got you bouncing around like a forest sprite on sugar?”

You can’t speak. You’re too giddy, too high on disbelief and the distinct buzz of miracle. You just hold up your phone, the grades page glowing like divine scripture.

“I PASSED!” you shout, already halfway into a hop.

He blinks. “All of them?”

You nod, borderline feral. “All of them. Even Philosophy, which I wrote the final paper on the wrong philosopher. The wrong century, even!”

Lilia sets down the scorched tray. “Ah. So the blessings worked.”

You freeze. Narrow your eyes. “What blessings?”

He smiles innocently. “Who’s to say? Perhaps the stars aligned. Perhaps the registrar owes me a favor. Perhaps I made a quiet appeal to an ancient power.”

“You hexed my finals.”

“I charmed your finals.”

You don’t care. You really, really don’t care. The stress is finally gone. Your body is light, your soul is free, and for the first time since this bizarre roommate-summoning-covenant began, you feel at ease.

So you cross the room in a few strides, grin so wide it nearly splits your face, and kiss him.

It’s impulsive. Honest. Stupid. Exactly right.

He hums, surprised but pleased, and kisses you back—tasting faintly of burned tomato sauce and centuries of mischief.

You pull away breathless, blinking. “I mean—uh—thank you?”

He chuckles, touching your cheek with one (still oven-mitted) hand. “You’re welcome, dearest.”

The lasagna is absolutely inedible, but you eat it anyway.

With him, even burnt food tastes like victory.

The kitchen floor is cold, the overhead light is buzzing ominously, and there’s a suspiciously damp dish towel under your back, but you’re too tired to care. Finals are over. The semester’s been crushed beneath your heel like a can of off-brand energy drink. Lilia’s lying beside you, arms folded behind his head, legs kicked up like he’s cloud-gazing instead of staring at the slightly water-stained ceiling.

There’s a half-eaten sleeve of cookies on your chest. You’re not sure who put it there. You’ve been eating them slowly, like a grazing animal trying to forget it exists.

You sigh. He sighs louder, out of sheer competition. You elbow him, he laughs. The fridge hums like it’s sharing in the moment.

Then, because it feels right—or at least stupid in the exact right way—you turn your head and say, “Hey, Lilia. Wanna get married?”

There’s a beat. Maybe two.

“Yup,” he says, cheerful as anything. “Let’s do it. Right now? I can carve the rings. I’ve got bone.”

You blink.

He smiles.

You blink again. “I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.”

Silence.

“Wait—bone?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “What, you think I don’t have crafting materials?”

You stare at him. He stares right back, unblinking, until you crack up so hard the cookie sleeve falls off your chest and crumbles into sad little crumbs on the tile.

“Gods, you’re insane,” you wheeze, wiping your eyes.

He grins, fangs showing. “Only for you, spouse.”

You cover your face, but you're smiling like an idiot. Because even if he's joking—and you're not entirely sure he is—there’s a warmth in your chest that doesn’t feel like just cookie crumbs and post-finals exhaustion.

You’re doomed. You’re in love. And apparently, you’re engaged now.

Masterlist

"someone save me from this university" - me as i wrote this. (also was written very very high on caffeine and stress so i'm sorry for the extreme chaos)

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia twst #lilia x reader #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia

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twistedpink · 5 days ago

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Hii! I saw that the requests are open and I js want to ask a little request, it's been a while since I last did anyway,,

I saw that you —atleast used— to do obsessive love before! So can I request an obsessed! Diasomnia x reader? Tysm :))

Ty for requesting!! Loved this

@bju3c0re

Obsessed!Sebek that’s addicted to your voice of all things- so meek compared to his, and regardless of the volume, he’s constantly encouraging you to ‘speak up’. He won’t quiet himself for you of all people (no matter how many times he imagines laying his head in your lap and letting your gentle inflections lull him to sleep), and so what if he wants to hear you more? It’s not HIS fault your every sound makes his ears prick up and stand to attention,, Do better, human 😒 (before he subconsciously gets gentler)

Obsessed!Silver that can’t stop dreaming of you,, Being whispered to by your gentle lips and getting held in what appears to be your wedding bed seems all but too good to be true- because it is, and he wakes up in the middle of a lecture :( He watches you in an enchanted daze from across the room- and even with his sleep-addled vision, he decides that’s what he wants to wake up to every day.. He’ll work hard to make it his reality- if you’ll have him <3

Obsessed!Lilia that just. Can’t stop smelling you. Not your deodorant, cologne, or shampoo- but you, that sweet-sweat-smell makes him go INSANE. And what’s worse is it’s only yours?? He goes as far as to copy your daily routine in an attempt to,, Adapt your scent himself, but it’s just not the SAME!! So, he steals your favourite shirt, and all is well. (Until he needs another one and you’re forced to move in with him to get your wardrobe back :p)

Obsessed!Malleus is the yearning final boss. EVERYTHING you do makes him go wild with this selfish need to observe, to know every aspect of your life until he can predict your actions with terrifying accuracy- then, and only then may his,, “Idle Interest” abate. All the human habits of doodling and yawning you’ve pushed him into are excluded, of course,, He knows painfully well how unbecoming and childish this is of him, but he can’t seem to stop </3

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luxthestrange · 2 days ago

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TWST Incorrect quotes#733 Beach day!

The third year, and you with grim went to have a beach day by the docks...which ended in horror so some...

Vil: Hey guys, what do you think about making that beach trip an annual thing?

Yuu, Malleus, and Idia: No!

Trey: Alright, that’s it, you guys. What happened out there?

Yuu: What? We took a walk. Nothing happened. I came back with nothing all over me!?!

Cater: What does that mean?

Rook: Come on, what happened? Trickster?

Mal: Alright-

Idia: No. Malleus, we swore we’d never tell!

Yuu: They’ll never understand!

Mal: But we have to say something. We have to get it out. It’s eating me alive...

Idia: Yuu got stung by a jellyfish!

Yuu: Alright! I got stung. Stung bad... I couldn’t stand... I-I couldn’t walk-

Idia: We were two miles from the house. We were scared and alone. We didn’t think we could make it-

Yuu: I was in too much pain.

Mal: And I was tired from digging a huge hole with grim-

Mal: And then Idia remembered something...

Idia: I’d seen this thing on the Discovery Channel-

Leona: Wait a minute, I saw that- On the Discovery Channel. Yeah, about jellyfish and how if you— EW! You peed on yourself?

Third years: EW!!

Yuu: You can’t say that! You don’t know! I thought I was gonna pass out from the pain. Anyway, I tried, but I couldn’t... bend that way. So... *looks at Malleus*

Third years*Look at Malleus* Ew!

Mal: That’s right. I stepped up. They’re my best friends and they needed help. If I had to, I’d pee on any one of you

Lilia*Under his breath, his facepalms*...Malleus-dammit kid...dont

Mal: Only, uh, I couldn’t. I got stage fright. I wanted to help, but there was too much pressure. So, I, um, I turned to Idia...

As the group looks at Idia now in shock, Idia is in the corner of the room, holding your couch pillow to his face as he screams in horror...

Idia*Lifting his head up with puffy red eyes, and runny nose* Malleus kept screaming at me, “Do it now. Do it. Do it now.” Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear the screaming!?!-

Mal: That’s because sometimes I just do it through your wall to freak you out~

Grim*Tuckered out in the recliner in, napping from a whole day of fun...while the chaos around him happens*

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok but the image of idia screaming to my dorm pillow in horror makes me laugh-

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hananan2 · 4 days ago

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Hi, are you writing NSFW? Well, my query isn't exactly NSFW, but the elements are present. I was thinking about a reader who is very sleepy (didn't get enough sleep because of exams or some other reason) and being a bit out of it starts telling different things about her love life with her boyfriend. And everyone around her blushes and just says, “Go to sleep please 🥹”. The guy's reaction depends on the character. I was thinking of Leona, Vil, Lilia, Jack, Sebek. I'd love it if you write about it, but if you don't like it, that's fine with me! Only in that case, please reply back that you don't want to write it so I know 😅.

don’t feel bad dw!! I didn’t post requesting rules (I did now!) when you asked so totally not your fault! While I don’t write NSFW, I write some suggestive stuff, which I think is what you’re asking for. I’m also going to take out Sebek and Jack if you don’t mind bc I still need to figure out to write them and I wanted to make it more suggestive for you! I’ll do it!! So sorry if this is ooc☹️ I hope you enjoy!💕 (btw I’m gonna assume you wanted it as Fem!reader bc you were using her!)

—

To Tired to Think!

Summary: You could hardly get any sleep last night and your tired as hell throughout the whole day, while you’re near you boyfriend and other people, you accidentally slip up and say some things that should have been kept private… How does your boyfriend react?

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit and Lilia Vanrouge!

info: Established relationship, romantic, Fem!reader, suggestive & fluff-ish!

Cw: none!

Leona Kingscholar

You were fighting a war to stay awake the whole day and you were shot 53 times. Thanks to your amazing boyfriend, you ended up taking a nap in the evening, which not only didn’t make you sleepy at night, but delayed all your school work and work in general, so had to get that done at night, which cause you to look like a wobbling, sleepy mess the next day.

but speaking of you Amazing boyfriend who you unfortunately love, here you were in his room, leaning on his chest as you both sat up, his arm was wrapped around with his hand patting your thigh, the room filled with chatter. Jack and Ruggie wanted to talk with Leona about new spell drive game, so they were in the room alongside you guys , and you honestly did NOT care, they were just like kids honestly, you just wanted sleep.

But suddenly a few slurred mutters could be heard from someone and it was NOT about spell drive. “Leona so gentle in bed…. Needs to be more rough….zzz..” all talking ceased.

Jack looked horrified, Ruggie was processing what he had heard, Leona looked stunned too, his hand stopped patting your thigh to listen.

“Lots of stamina though… makes satisfed… happy…” you slurred out, your hands playing with eachother.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll leave… get Y/N the rest she needs… she seems tired… I’ll see you later guys.” Jack walked out flustered, now he knew many things about his house warden he never wanted to know, trauma is very real.

While Jack left with the burden of information, Leona smirked and pay you thigh, his previous confusion wiped away with amusement, “oh? You’re honest, c’mon, I wanna hear what i’m good at doll.”

meanwhile all this happened, Ruggie was laughing his ASS off, he was quaking, Leona questioned how he didn’t wake you up.

“Pfft- oh I never knew you were so soft!” Ruggie cackled between breaths, Leona looked like he was gonna strangle him again, “Maybe I am, now scram or no lunch money.” Leona threatened, oh and that threat WORKED, Ruggie was gone.

Leona looks at you fondly and broke into laughter alone as well, he pay your thigh one last time and ruffled your hair while you absolutely slumped, you were so surprising, it scared him, but it was one of his favorite things about you, never made him bored.

“You have guts in your sleep huh? Telling all our business to kiddos? I’ll have to hear more.” He spoke gently to you with a cocky smirk, but he knew you were tired, and it was pretty much his fault, so he picked you up and placed you on his bed, laying next to you and watched the sun glow on your skin in affection.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil did not approve of you staying up so late! You stayed up late, literally just because you were watching a movie and woke up like a zombie the next day, forgetting you had a test. So that happened.

Seeing this, Vil was upset that his lovely girlfriend was not taking care of herself and went into an obnoxious, but loving and worried rant about how sleeping is vital. But in the end, Vil couldn’t be too mad seeing your small, sleepy eyes and decided that would do your skincare and make you feel fresh, today was condicently the day where Vil had promised the freshmen’s to show them the steps and vitals traits in skincare, he asked if you were comfortable for being the subject and you said you didn’t care so sure!

so here you are, almost falling asleep every few seconds in a soft chair while Vils gentle hands applied product to your face, the room was filled with admiring freshmen, eager to learn from their guru, well, all expect Epel, but hey at least you were here, Rook also came along because of course he did.

While Vil explained why toner was a must-have in your skincare routine, he was interrupted by a exasperated voice, “Your fingers are so nice… so good… everywhere… in bedroom a lot…” you mumbled to Vil like you had forgotten there was a whole audience in the room. Vil’s face turned white

The freshmen gasped, probably their first time they’d been exposed to stuff considering they were all so proper, flutters of “How scandalous!” And “Vil’a fingers…” filling the room. Again though, not Epel, his jaw DROPPED, his expression a mix of amusement and pure terror. Of course, Rook was chuckling, "Oh comme c'est intéressant…” he commentated with an evil grin.

Vil’s cheeks were tinted pink, not knowing what to say, wow you actually made him shit up, good job, Epel would say that. In true honestly, Vil was more worried about you, he didn’t want anyone to make assumptions of you or him for that matter, he knew how kids were, no matter how much he whipped them into shape, they’re still dumb teenage boys.

“Haha my love is so silly, she really appreciates my back massages is all, it’s a trait that all of you should have, it’s very helpful to relax your body before bed and all.” That sounded more freaky somehow kinda?? But it filled the masses of freshmen with “Ohhhhs” and understanding, they commented on about how you were a little tired poor thing and needed rest, so it worked! Of course he did, he’s Vil! “Now now, I expect that all of you have taken note and will use all the references I have taught you in your daily life, so put them to use now and get some sleep all of you.” Vil stated in a firm voice, the freshmen nodded their heads and left, Epel knew damn well that was about no massages, and he was going to interrogate and tease you about it so beware. (Don’t worry you’ll just tell on him.)

Rook left giggling finally and Vil carried you over to his room, laying you to rest, he knew it wasn’t really your fault, he shouldn’t have picked on you when you were so tried, in all honestly, he would have liked what you said if it was in private, but he would discuss that with you later, he slowly kissed your forehead, you were so silly, “Goodnight meine liebe.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Game night is really fun! Not when it’s on a Sunday night thought because Sunday is FAKE. You stayed up all night to game with Lilia and some guy named Gloomurai, leaving you with laughs and joy at 8pm, but leaving you exhausted by 8am. Though today, you were having dinner with Malleus, Silver, Sebek and your beloved for a little family night!

So while the others distracted Lilia as best as possible with wild conversation and Sebek literally cracking his skull open, you finished cooking so no one died, of course, the boys helped you out when they snuck away.

But you were SO exhausted, and eating, wake, filling food really just made you want to pass out more, all of you were sitting and dining at the table, Malleus talking about how he found a hidden gargoyale in one of the schools pillars with a childish joy in his eyes, Sebek congratulating his liege, you and Lilia supporting his hobbies and Silver taking in the moment while he also fought to not land face first into his food like you.

You were muttering praises to Malleus while your fork slightly moved a little, your shoulder leaning on Lilia’s, but soon your mumbling took a turn.

“Lilia knows a lot too… so much… he knows how to work his tongue, fingers, di…” you thankfully drifted off.

Lilia was taken off guard, but soon his expression soon turned into loud laughter, he was slapping his knees, never in his 700 years of life! “Haha—! Infront of the kids wow!”

Malleus looked confused, he is surprisingly,but also unsurprisingly innocent. “Well yes, he has detected poisonous roots in dishes and has bore swords in many altercations with quite skillful precision, I agree with your statement, although, I am not aware of what this Di is.” Malleus commented with his hand on his chin.

more laughter erupted, oh my god this was bad but also not the worst thing ever?

“I ALSO WHOLEHEARTEDLY AGREE WITH YOU MY LIEGE ON THE HUMAN’S STATEMENT” Sebek declared proudly, crossing his arm over his heart

Silver was awoken with all the cacophony of laughter and Sebek. “Shush.” He gave Sebek a glare, which made him shut up.

“She’s sleeping, father please calm down as well, she needs rest.” Silver spoke calmly, finishing eating. In all honesty, Silver wasn’t asleep in that moment, your words woke him up, and unfortunately for him, he knew what you mean by your statement of muttered words. You hear a lot when people think you’re asleep and a quiet kid. But he chooses to act as if he didn’t hear it, thought there’s an audible twinge of embarrassment in his voice.

“Haha your right son. Alright you lot all best head to bed, you hear me? I’ll take care of the dishes and take Y/N to bed, clean the table.” Lilia said in a more mature voice, though he still had a sly grin on his face, everyone agreed and Lilia flew to his room with you in his arms, setting you on the bed. He looked down at you and pinched your cheek gently. “Cheeky.”

he smiled while covering you in a blanket, kissing the top of your head, you deserves that much. He’ll make sure to treat you to a hearty meal tommorow!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #silver vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #epel felmier #rook hunt #twisted wonderland x reader #suggestive #silly

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yuhuahuaaa · 2 days ago

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I actually and truly so touched and even almost cried at Lilia's part and VIL VILLLLLL WHY YOU AO SWEET AKSBSJSJ

Also my two favorite TWST character in one fic? Damn

Hello!! What do you think about a scenario with a freshman reader who is dating a third-year student and is worried about their relationship after the guy graduates from college?For example with Lilia, Leona, Vil, Jade (would like to read something longer rather than a headcanon, I realize it's hard to write with everyone, so pick whichever of the characters listed you like best).

𐔌 . ⋮ seasons ahead .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Lilia & Vil x gn! reader (separate)

𓏵 1350 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 2nd Person POV, no pronouns used, light angst, hurt/comfort, ooc(?)

When I first saw this ask I legitimately wanted to write Vil BUTT I barely have made any Lilia content so I wanted to challenge myself with this haha TT but there is also a Vil version since he rots in my head! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

You should have known from the beginning—should’ve known that dating someone like Lilia meant chasing after someone with centuries of stories behind his smile. You knew from the moment he first offered you his gloved hand with a mischievous wink and an old-fashioned compliment. Knew the moment he called you “darling” with just enough sincerity to make your heart skip.

But you were foolish in that soft, hopeful way only freshmen can be. You let yourself fall.

And he had never pushed you away.

Even now, as the end of the year creeps in like fog rolling off the Briar Valley cliffs, he lets you stay close.

You sit with him in a quiet corner of the Diasomnia dorm lounge, wrapped in the faint scent of worn leather and old paper. The fireplace crackles softly. Lilia is reading—of course he is. Some ancient, yellow-paged novel written in a language you barely recognize. His fingers trace the faded ink like he’s greeting an old friend. You’re curled beside him, your open notebook long forgotten, your pen idle between your fingers.

It’s too peaceful. Too quiet for the words burning in your chest.

“I heard you’re really leaving,” you say at last. “Not just graduating. Leaving Night Raven College… for good.”

He closes the book with a soft sound. Smiles gently. “Mmm. The birds must leave the nest sometime, mustn’t they?”

“It’s not funny.”

“No,” he says. “It isn’t.”

There’s a pause. You stare at the flickering hearthlight and feel your chest tighten. You’ve known this was coming since the day Malleus cracked under centuries of pressure and pain, and everything changed.

But knowing doesn’t make it easier.

You hate how kind Lilia is in moments like this. How easy he makes it to love him. He’s warm in that way starlight is—beautiful, constant, and impossibly far away. You want to drag him closer. Keep him here, where the world still makes sense. But he belongs to time. And time never waits.

“You’re going to live for centuries more,” you murmur. “And I’m just… me.”

He tilts his head. His hair catches the firelight like dusk on water. “You’re you. And that has always been enough.”

You bite your lip, fighting the burn in your eyes. “Will you forget me?”

His laugh is soft. Almost sorrowful. “I’ve forgotten many things over the years… names, places, entire winters. But the ones who matter? They leave echoes. Imprints.” His gaze lowers to you, quiet and fond. “You’re not a passing breeze. You’ve already left your mark.”

You want to believe him. You do. But doubt still coils in your stomach like a vine.

“I don’t want to just be an echo,” you whisper.

He places his hand over yours—small and delicate, but steady. “Then don’t be. Write me letters. Send me photos. Meet me again someday, when the winds are kind. We’ll find each other. We always do.”

You don’t know what to say. You want to scream, cry, beg him to stay. But instead, you lean into his shoulder. And he leans into you right back, like he always has.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” you admit quietly.

“Then don’t,” he says. “Say goodnight. Say ‘until next time.’ Say ‘I’ll see you in spring.’ The world is big, yes, but paths cross in the strangest places. Even time bends a little for love.”

You close your eyes, memorizing the sound of his voice.

And when he kisses your forehead, it isn’t a farewell. It’s a promise. That he might not be yours forever—but he is yours now. And that has to be enough.

─────────────────────────

It started the way all fairytales do—not with a grand gesture, but something quiet. A single moment that shifted the light.

Vil had gently brushed your hair out of your eyes one day after your alchemy class, his fingers lingering longer than necessary, his gaze soft and searching. You were still new to NRC then—navigating the chaos of the cafeteria, dodging overly ambitious spellwork in the halls, and learning, day by day, how not to gawk whenever Vil Schoenheit walked past like a vision of poise carved in gold.

You hadn’t known what to expect when he asked you to meet him for tea later that week. You still didn’t, even a year into dating.

Now, the two of you sit hand in hand beneath the hush of the Botanical Gardens after hours, a space Vil had “borrowed” with a few elegant words to the staff. The greenhouse glows with soft firefly light and the ghost-pale shimmer of moonlight through misted glass. It’s beautiful—of course it is. Every moment with him feels curated, intentional. But this time, you can sense the quiet weight beneath the beauty.

Graduation looms like a shadow at the edge of the light.

He’s leaving soon. You won’t.

And the thought claws at your chest like brambles.

Vil senses it before you speak. Of course he does. He’s always been attuned to your silences the way a director reads stillness on a stage.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “That usually means something’s troubling you.”

You shift, the question burning at the tip of your tongue. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking. After graduation… where will you be?”

Vil’s expression remains still, poised. But you feel the smallest shift—like a mirror catching light at a different angle. His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to ground.

“You mean: what will happen to us?”

You nod, biting your lip.

He doesn’t look away. “I’ll be busy, yes. My schedule will change. My career is—and will remain—demanding. But do you truly believe I’d forget you?” His voice is soft but sharp, like velvet hiding a blade. “Do you think I’d treat this—treat you—like some seasonal wardrobe I can store away when it’s no longer in fashion?”

Your breath catches. “No. I just… I’m scared.”

It feels so small to admit, but it’s the truth. You’re young, still tethered to the rhythms of campus life. He’s already halfway into the world beyond, with press interviews, film scripts, magazine covers bearing his name.

Vil lifts a hand and gently touches your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His eyes are serious, edged with something vulnerable—something real beneath the perfect exterior.

“I won’t lie to you. I never have,” he says. “This won’t be easy. There will be nights I’m in another country. Weeks when we can’t speak beyond a message or two. There will be pressure—rumors, distance, uncertainty. But I have never committed to something I didn’t intend to see through.”

His words steady something trembling in your chest.

“We’re not naïve,” he continues. “We know time. We know ambition. But if you trust me—truly trust me—and if you still want me, even when I’m not here, then I will be waiting. No role, no red carpet, no flashing light will ever hold the same weight as your voice saying my name.”

You stare at him, overwhelmed.

“I do trust you,” you whisper. “I’m just scared to lose you to a world that’s so much bigger than me.”

Vil exhales slowly, and when he smiles, it’s not the show-stopping, camera-ready one. It’s something smaller. Truer.

“Then let’s not waste this season worrying about ones we haven’t stepped into yet,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips. “Let’s make these days worth remembering. Let me become a memory so bright, even time won’t dull it.”

And somehow, in that moment, you believe him.

Because with Vil, even endings feel like carefully chosen scenes in a story far from finished.

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hikawilla · 4 days ago

Text

Okay, I have an idea.

Isn't Yuu

Imagine that while in the dream world, Lilia's subconscious mind has taken on the obfuscation of her lover, which is you. To make it easier for your children to get over the shock of Lilia's past and to soften General Lilia's behavior.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x mc #twst x oc #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

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madame-nightshade · 1 day ago

Text

Lilia Vanrouge x Eclipsa Butterfly! Reader

I was told that I need to make a part 2, so I'm doing just that!

Slight spoilers for book 7 and SVTFOE, READER IS TARGETED AS FEMALE BAD GRAMMAR

The purple was bright coming from your chest, your umbrella in your right hand as you stared forward with the slight smile you always had, your hat created a bit of a shadow that framed your face so perfectly to him. Lilia got closer and the purple glow of the rings began to fade. He placed his hand on the glass with a smile as tears formed in his eyes.

"Hello, my love, welcome home…"

And just like that, the crystal began to crack.

Lilia blinked the tears away as he backed up in shock. The glass continued to crack and chip away until your beautiful crystal tomb finally shattered. The sound echoed through the mine as chips of the clear item went everywhere, then a soft 'thud' was heard as something landed harshly on the floor of the mine. Lilia covered his eyes with his arm so no shards would fly into his eyes.

When he finally looked over, he saw you on the floor slowly sitting up as you held your aching head. You were still in the same outfit he last saw you in. Your purple dress seemed more vibrant than ever to him, the little spades on your cheeks still held their color too. Lilia stood there and waited for you to be okay, to make sure you were okay with getting up.

"Lilia...?" He felt his heart leap into his throat when he finally heard you speak, it had been over 300 years since he's seen you, let alone hear your beautiful voice again. He couldn't help himself when he rushed to your side and dropped himself on the floor right next to you, scooping you into his arms as he buried his face into your neck just to smell you again.

"My love..." He whispered as he kissed your neck, he couldn't help himself. The years of being alone and longing for you finally came flowing out like crazy. Lilia squeezed you slightly gently, just to feel you in his arms again.

You froze at the feeling of Lilia squeeze you... Was this actually the Lilia you knew? The one you adored had long hair with red highlights in it. The man in front of you had short hair with pink highlights. Though, the ring you felt on his finger made you relax into his hold and put her arms around him.

"Hello, my love... I'm home..." You smiled and rubbed your fingers over the back of his head, feeling his undercut with your gloved fingers. You felt him kiss and breathe against your neck, as if you would vanish if he stopped. You nudged his head with your shoulder and softened your gaze at the man you had deemed as your soulmate when you first laid eyes on him.

"Darling," You spoke, "Can't I get a proper welcome back?" You grinned and leaned closer to his face as he stared at you with wide, yet adoring, eyes. Lilia took a deep breath and kissed you so hard that it knocked you both down completely onto the dirty, crystal shard ridden, floor. You laughed and had to pull him away after a while.

"My, I feel very welcomed." You cooed and poked his flushed cheek. Lilia smiled and kissed all over your face.

"Darling... How did you escape? You were in a crystal!" He looked at you dead in your eyes and huffed, "You're not in my mind, right?" He tilted his head with a teasing smirk as you laughed.

"No, no..." You sighed and began to explain, "I heard Hendrick talking about how I was a threat the day of your final date... I made our rings out magic and blessed them with the promise of a Butterfly queen." You slowly explained.

"But... I spied on the humans who did this to you, they said they had the most powerful mages on their side create the crystal to trap you in." He smiled, adoring your thinking and how smart you were with the fact that you created something so small with a huge role.

"A promise with a queen is stronger than any crystal!" You hummed as he slowly sat you up, then helped you stand up. You felt lightheaded and your legs felt like they were going to give in, so he started to carry you.

"Where are we going, hm?" You tiled your head and smiled with a kiss to his cheek.

"We're going to my dorm. You ended up in a mine around Night Raven College."

"You're in Night Raven?! My love, the one who said that it was a waste of time, is attending college?!" You laughed as he carried you out the mine while you gently pinched his cheek.

Diasomnia was a very... Interesting dorm, but it fit your style perfectly. In the lounge room, Lilia put you on the couch next to a silver haired boy that was completely dozed off. You blinked at Lilia with a confused look.

"Sweetie," She hummed, "Who...?"

"My son, Silver--Our son." You felt... Confused to say the least, then he went on about how he found and adopted Silver when he was just a little baby. Ever since then, Lilia had always told him that you were his mother, or 'mama' as Lilia put it.

"I gave him this little necklace with a copy of your portrait in it, and he went to bed with it every night from when he was six to ten!" Lilia cooed. It was weird seeing him like this; 300 years ago, Lilia always said that he never wanted to have a child, that they were extra work.

"That's... Actually, really sweet..." You mumbled and smiled at Lilia, who looked really proud of himself. You laughed and tugged him to kiss his cheek, you've missed him so much.

"Um... How long have I been in there for?" You asked very hesitantly.

"Over three hundred years, I suppose..." Lilia hummed with a small frown in thought.

"THREE... HUNDRED YEARS??" You exclaimed loudly, but not enough to disturb your newly founded adoptive child. Lilia smiled and nodded, confirming it was some time around that.

The... The war! Queen Leah--Did she...?" You looked over to the sleeping boy on the couch. You thought of your sister-in-law and her husband who were more than thrilled to be having a baby before you got crystalized. Looking closer, this boy looked more like the Dawn Knight than anything... You looked at Lilia with a tired expression, "Please don't tell me that this is the descendant of the Dawn Knight and Queen Leah." You sighed.

"A direct descendant!" He corrected.

You choked on your spit, "How is my nephew my son?!" You questioned your beloved who only laughed, "This is no laughing matter! This is confusing!" You huffed at him.

"You'll get used to it, my love." He cupped your cheek and gently rubbed it with his thumb, he then reached his hand to you and takes off your gloves to hold your hands. He traced the purple veins caused by the 'Darkness' spell you created. He lifted your hand up and kissed your knuckles, all the way up to your arms.

"Lilia!" You laughed a bit but let him keep kissing up your arm until he got to your neck. He sighed happily and lied his head there for a few minutes before the boy on the other cushion of the couch started to shift around, he was waking up.

"Mm... Father...?" He sounded so much like the Dawn Knight, but his voice was as soft as Leah's, no doubt he was their child. Lilia smiled and moved over to rub the sleepy boy's head.

"You seemed to have fallen asleep, Silver. How long have you been asleep this time?"

"I'm not too sure, father..." He mumbled and looked over to you, still half asleep, "Is it mama?" He mumbled and blinked, rubbing his sleepy eyes with heavy hands. You frowned, feeling like you were taking something away from your late sister-in-law who didn't get to have this moment, he didn't even know he was calling his aunt "mama"

"Ah, I prefer the term 'Mother'--" You really tried to correct him, but the sleepy pout of him being corrected melted your heart down to goo, "Or... 'Mama' is just fine!" You smiled and patted his head with the one hand that was still gloved, wanting to keep the other one hidden for now. Silver leaned into your touch and started to go to sleep until Lilia woke him up and started to lead him to his own room.

"Come on, sleepyhead! Time for bed, you have some training to do since it's Saturday!"

Lilia soon let you into his clutter filled room and laid you down on the bed, crawling onto you and laying with his head on your chest, sighing in pure comfort. You smiled and started to strong your fingers through his stands of hair.

"You know..." You started, "I quite like you with short hair... This undercut too..." You smiled and hummed as you felt Lilia smile against you. Lilia held you as tight as he could, not letting you slip through his fingers. Lilia positioned his head so you could rub his head a bit better. The action was nostalgic and soothing to him, he had missed this form of affection for years. Lilia pulled back and hovered over you.

"Oh, my love... Still so beautiful..." He mumbled gently, moving to kiss all over your face, slowly pulling the neck of your dress down slightly and bit down, not enough for you to bleed, but just for you to squirm. It tickled to you.

"Lilie!~" You squealed quietly and giggled. You felt him smile as he you laughed, he gave a quiet 'shh' and kept kissing, nipping, and biting. He pulled away and kissed your nose, gently squeezing your waist.

"Hush, darling, you mustn't be so loud." He smiled and looked at your lovely eyes, unable to look away...

"...Are you sure you aren't in my mind?"

"Yes!"

The next morning, you suddenly found yourself surrounded by the boys that Lilia seemed to have raised. Malleus was this late childhood friends child that he told you he helped hatch. Sebek, you figured out quickly, was Baul's grandchild. You met Baul some years ago when you tried to meet with Lilia, Baul came to tell you that he was injured and wouldn't be able to meet up with you for a while.

Though, Silver seemed a bit shocked to see you. His stoic and sleepy expression changed as his eyes lit up and his eyebrows rose a bit. You smiled and moved over to pat his head.

"Must you look so shocked, child? I had met you last night, do you not remember?" You laughed a bit as he leaned into the touch. To you, he looked like a sleepier version of his father, almost nothing like his mother showed in his features. It was a nice feeling to know that your nephew—now turned son— seemed to know you and feel comfortable enough to be near you.

"Yes but..." He trailed off, suddenly feeling sleepy. You smiled and lightly smacked his cheek to help him finish what he was saying, "I thought that You were gone for good—Father said that you were gone!"

"Hm, it would be interesting to know where you were all this time, Lady Butterfly." Malleus gave a curious grin as he rubbed his chin. Sebek nodded and agreed with his lord while Lilia just looked at you to make sure you were comfortable with answering.

"Well," You started, "Some terrible, terrible people locked me up in a dingy old crystal deep down in a dark mine. They thought I was eating human babies." You lightened the situation with a joke about one of the many rumors spreading about you over 300 years ago, though that one was some of the few that were incredibly ridiculous.

"My love," Lilia spoke after a moment of silence, "Where is your wand?" He asked with curiosity. You would never let anything happen to your family's greatest treasure, right?

"It's right here!" You reached into the pockets of your old dress and tried to find your umbrella, but there was nothing in your pockets. You blink in panic and try to find it, "No, no, no! I don't have it! Thet must've taken it from me!" You huffed and cursed in an ancient language that not even Lilia understood fully. Lilia put a hand on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.

"Dear, I'm sure you'll find it. Maybe it's at a museum, or in the mine you were trapped in. I'll be sure to find it and your book." Right, your magic spell book too... You could only hope the blue magical being in the book wouldn't be too upset with you for being put into a crystal.

"Let's get you something to eat! I'll cook—"

"NO!"

Time went on and you grew closer with the boys. The three of them were unique and seemed to like you, they even tried to help you find your book... By looking in the school library. Crowley had been informed of your sudden appearance and made an arrangement for you to be a student and be in Diasomnia. He didn't even question it when Malleus offered to send in some donations as a motivator to get your paperwork done as quickly as possible.

Yourself, Silver and Sebek were in the library looking for any hints of finding a lead to where your book or wand happened to be. You were looking through the various shelves and books with Silver. You sighed as you stepped down from a shelf you were looking at up high.

"Any luck, Silver?" You asked without looking at the young boy, but noticed you weren't getting any answer back, "Silver?" You looked down and couldn't help but smile. Silver was asleep while leaning on a shelf. Despite the awkward position, he looked comfortable. You felt bad he always seemed to have these sleeping spells that he couldn't help. When you find your book, you're making sure that you find a spell to help him or make one if there wasn't already.

"SILVER! YOU'RE SLEEPING AGAIN?!" You hear Sebek storm in the book aisle you both were in and shout. You're not one to get startled easily, but Sebek's constant yelling is something that seems to get you often.

"Shh, we're in a library, Sebek!" You lightly scolded as Silver jolted awake, must've been having one of his lighter sleeps. Sebek looked a bit embarrassed when he got scolded, clearing his throat and lowing his voice down to a very aggressive whisper.

"Lady Butterfly! I have found something!" You nodded and smiled at the information of the young boy and helped Silver up on his weak feet before making your way to find what Sebek discovered.

On a cart full of old books, sat a thick book with papers spilling out of it. You gasp and rush to pick it up and put it onto a table. You smiled happily and blew off the dust from the top before you opened it. Both Silver and Sebek watched as you opened the book, confusion hit them like a truck when a small blue man with yellow robes and a magenta diamond on his forehead came floating out of the book with crossed legs.

"Glossaryck!" You greeted happily. Though the little man in the book didn't seem too happy.

"Queen (MC)" He didn't sound happy at all, "You left me!" He pouted and teared up. You knew they were fake, knowing that he didn't feel many emotions at all. You sighed and gently grabbed him into your hand.

"It isn't my fault!" You huffed and sighed, "Look, I'll make it up to you! How about some... Pudding?" You tried to bargain with the stubborn being. He only huffed and crossed his arms.

"I dunno... Maybe if you tried harder, I would forgive—Ohohoo..." He went limp with a relaxed sigh as your pointer finger gently scratched the magenta diamond on his head, it started to glow as he took in the feeling of your touch, "Maybe I do forgive you..."

You could only laugh as Silver and Sebek looked at each other with the most confused look they could ever muster up. When Glossaryck gained his composure back, he cleared his throat as he began to speak again.

"So... You're finally back, hm? How'd you get out the crystal?" He asked as he laid flat on his stomach in the palm of your hand and kicked his blue hairy legs back and forth while he looked at you.

"Lilia." You told him, just to keep the story shorter.

"Lilia..." Glossaryck spat the name put like it was the worse think that he could ever taste. You remembered the unspoked hatred both Lilia and Glossaryck had for each other. You found it quite funny every time Lilia would be near, Glossaryck would try and offer him a yadda yadda berry any chance he got.

"You're not going to be very happy then..." You mumbled as you softly laughed.

"(MC)..." Glossaryck glared.

"We're staying with him."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO—"

"I'll give you pudding and build it into a pyramid."

"Okay."

"...You sound different."

The meeting of Lilia and Glossaryck wasn't pleasant at all. Glossaryck sat on the Diasomnia counter, messily eating pudding while Lilia held you from behind, glaring at the magical being eating away at his mountain of pudding.

"Glossaryck." Lilia mumbled a not so pleasant greeting.

"Awmph—Wiwia (Lilia)." Glossaryck grumbled back, stuffing his face with a spoon full of pudding. It was honestly sort of disgusting how much he could eat without getting sick of it.

"Look, Glossaryck, I have no time for this. Do you know what happened to my wand when I was put in the crystal?" You begged a bit, clasping your hands together.

"Why do you need it? You can use magic without it, haven't you dipped down before? Pretty sure I taught you." He hummed and took another bite of the chocolate pudding.

"I haven't dipped down in over 300 years! Granted I know it won't take much out of me, but I would like to know where my wand is to make sure that nobody took it and is using it for wrong." You took your hat off and placed it on the counter next to Glossaryck, "I was lucky enough that the book of spells wasn't taken by any means, otherwise someone could have the power to use my spells or my mothers."

"There were a few people that found the book and tried to dip down. I tried to help them, but they all gave up after making their own spells to put into the book." He shrugged and scrapped the sides of the little container, "But they never came close to being able to use one of your mothers' spells, let alone yours."

"So, others have used my wand over the years? Where is my wand?" You huffed, "I know you know something!" Glossaryck groaned at you and put down his spoon, licking pudding out of his beard and pulled his lower eyelid.

"Reach into my eye."

"Glossaryck, I don't have time for your tricks." You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I'm being so serious right now. Reach into my eye." You sighed heavily and reached a gloved hand into his eye. The sounds were very unpleasant to hear, the way Lilia gripped onto you let you know that he didn't like the sound later. You felt something in your hand and pulled it out of his eye socket.

It was a bunch of yadda yadda berries.

"For your next argument with that one." He pointed a finger to Lilia who only stuck his tongue out.

"Glossaryck." You groaned and sighed.

"Fine! Don't use them!" He took the yadda yadda berries from your hand and ate them. He turned to stone for a moment before he turned back to normal with a pleased sigh.

"Man, these are so good..."

"Glossaryck!" You scolded.

"Fine! Into my eye again." He pulled back his eyelid once more so you can stick your hand in there again. Finally, you pulled out your wand, the handle of the umbrella felt familiar and comfortable. You felt the magic flow from your wand and into your body. You closed your eyes to relax, your little spades on your cheeks started to glow a lovely shade of purple until it calmed down. It was overwhelming enough for Lilia to tightly hold you, making sure you wouldn't fall. You sighed as everything finally calmed down.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Lilia gently rubbed your sides and made sure you were able to stand on your two feet without wobbling over.

"Yeah... I'm alright." You smiled and turned your head to kiss his cheek, "How about we cause some disturbance with my All-Seeing Eye spell like old times, yes?" You laughed when he picked you up and looked at you with sparkling eyes.

"Do you think you can handle it? It used to take a bit out of you before." It was so sweet he wanted to make sure you were okay enough to practice the spell, even if he wanted to scare a few people at that moment.

"Yes, I'm well enough to perform the spell, my love." You laughed as he started to carry you up to the room that you both now share (Lilia refuses to give you your own room after getting you back). You hear Glossaryck groan in annoyance and boo at you both for leaving him there by himself, but you summon a pile of more pudding right next to him. He gives you a thumbs up as he moved away from your line of view.

You smile at Lilia as you moved your arms to go around his neck, your fingers once more threading through his short hair that you've come to adore so much. He held you tight in his arms like at any second you were going to be ripped away. You felt so happy with him, and you were even happier to spend time with the person you can safely say after 300 years that is your husband. <3

GUYS DO I HAVE POTENTIAL TO START WRITING FOR MONEY???? Probably not lol

I wanted to somehow add Meteora but really didn't know how to add her since it would be a major addition to put in, Glossaryck wasn't so much of a huge add on like she would have been in my opinion. Hope this was decent, I've been so busy with school and I'm finally on break!

Tag list (hope I did this right); @jar-03 @aresisasleep @kiki-kuku

#twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge

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dior-luxury · 4 days ago

Note

Love your stories♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ Could I request the female reader falling asleep on their boyfriends lap with the dorm leaders and vice dorm leaders + Floyd? Thank you.

In the Comfort of You

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] dorm leaders . vice dorm leaders + floyd

- [𝐩:𝐬] none

Note: Aww, this prompt is actually so cute are you kidding! I came back from my dance comp early so I celebrated by writing again! (*¯︶¯*)

Riddle Rosehearts

It was a quiet afternoon in Heartslabyul, the garden unusually still after a morning of chaos. The usual string of rules, order, and unexpected mushroom inspections had tired out even the strictest members. The sun filtered through the rose bushes, scattering golden flecks across the picnic blanket laid out under the gazebo. The breeze rustled the leaves above, and the faint smell of strawberry tarts lingered in the air.

Riddle sat upright, posture perfect, a book open in his lap. He was mid-sentence when he felt a shift beside him.

You, his girlfriend, had been curled up at his side for a while, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. But now, slowly, without a word, you repositioned yourself and laid your head fully in his lap.

He stiffened.

Rules. There were rules about propriety. About maintaining posture. About not being flustered in public—even if it was just you two in the garden. His brain fired through a checklist of what he should do. He should tell you to sit up. He should maintain boundaries.

But then he looked down.

Your face was peaceful, softened by sleep. A slight smile played on your lips, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. One hand loosely held the hem of his jacket, as if even in sleep, you wanted to be close to him. You trusted him enough to rest like this. On him.

His heart stuttered.

Slowly, he placed the book aside and stared down at you, watching the way your lashes fluttered when the breeze tickled your cheeks. His hand hovered in the air for a long time—unsure—before he finally brushed your hair away from your forehead, his fingers trembling slightly.

He had always been taught discipline, order, and responsibility. But with you? He felt human. Vulnerable. Safe.

His fingers lingered in your hair, stroking it gently.

“…I suppose... one nap isn’t against the rules,” he murmured to himself.

He leaned back slightly, his other hand resting lightly across your back to make sure you didn’t roll off his lap. He felt warmth in his chest, unfamiliar and wonderful, like a sun blooming behind clouds. For once, Riddle Rosehearts didn't care about rules or appearances. Not when you looked so peaceful. Not when your presence filled his every thought.

And when you murmured his name softly in your sleep, like a prayer wrapped in trust?

He knew he'd never let anyone disturb this moment.

Not even the Queen of Hearts herself.

Trey Clover

The sun was setting over the Heartslabyul courtyard, painting the sky in sherbet hues. After a long day of baking sweets for the next unbirthday party, the scent of sugar and vanilla still clung to the air.

Trey had insisted on taking a break—dragging you out into the garden with a blanket and leftover tarts. You’d tried to protest, insisting you had homework, but he just smiled with that warm, steady patience of his and said, “You’ve earned a rest.”

You sat beside him, legs stretched out, chewing lazily on a berry tart as he leaned against a tree trunk. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his glasses had slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose as he read aloud from a half-open cookbook. You didn’t understand why he found recipe books so relaxing, but his voice was calm, familiar, grounding.

Eventually, the warmth of the setting sun and the soft cadence of his words started to lull you into a haze. Without thinking, you scooted closer and laid your head in his lap.

Trey’s voice trailed off.

He looked down at you, blinking once, then again. The way you curled into him, unguarded, so effortlessly vulnerable—it made his chest ache in the sweetest way. He smiled, one hand coming up to adjust his glasses, the other instinctively brushing along your arm.

“You okay down there?” he asked softly.

No response.

Your breathing was slow and even, lips slightly parted as you drifted deeper into sleep. Your hand rested on his thigh, fingers barely curled like you were holding onto the moment.

He chuckled under his breath. “Guess that’s a yes.”

With infinite gentleness, Trey shifted the tart plate out of the way and used his free hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. He watched the way the sunlight danced on your skin, how your eyelashes cast little shadows across your cheeks.

He didn’t move for a long while. Didn’t read. Didn’t speak. He just sat there, a steady presence while you slept on his lap. His thumb brushed lazy, affectionate circles on your shoulder.

“I hope you know,” he said eventually, voice soft and low like a whisper in a dream, “I could sit like this forever.”

His heart beat slow and full. This wasn’t the chaos of the kitchen, or the madness of Heartslabyul. This was something simpler. Sweeter. Like a quiet lull after the storm.

He leaned down slightly, pressing a feather-light kiss to your temple.

“Sweet dreams, sugar.”

Leona Kingscholar

It was one of those scorching afternoons in the Savannaclaw lounge. The heat had chased most students into the shadows, and the usual clamor had died down to a low hum. Leona had claimed his favorite sun-drenched couch—stretched out with one arm behind his head, the other lazily flipping through a textbook he had no real intention of reading.

You were sitting next to him, legs curled under you, chatting idly for a bit before trailing off. He barely registered the silence at first—figured you were just zoning out. But then something shifted.

You moved closer.

His ears twitched.

Without a word, you leaned over and placed your head directly on his lap. Just—boop. Laid down. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Leona froze.

He looked down slowly, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. There you were, his girl, sleeping soundly across his lap. Lips parted slightly, cheek pressed against his thigh, hands tucked under your chin. Peaceful. Completely knocked out.

For a moment, Leona just stared.

And then—

“…Tch.” He clicked his tongue, but it lacked any real bite. “You’ve got some nerve.”

His hand hovered over you for a beat. He wanted to push you off, maybe grumble something about how he was supposed to be the lazy one, not you. But instead…

His fingers dipped into your hair.

It was light. Barely a touch. Just a lazy comb through your strands, again and again.

“Brat,” he murmured, but his voice was soft, like the desert wind at night. “You really just gonna sleep here without asking? On my lap?”

And yet he didn’t move.

Didn’t complain.

Didn’t breathe too loudly for fear of waking you.

His tail swished lazily across the floor, betraying the contentment he pretended he didn’t feel. The warmth of your body against him made his eyelids droop, but he stayed awake, keeping a silent vigil.

He wouldn’t admit it, not in a thousand years—but having you there, choosing him as your safe place to rest?

That meant more than all the crowns in the world.

He smirked, resting his head back.

“…Guess I’ll let you off this time.”

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie wasn’t used to having time off. Between errands for Leona, club stuff, side hustles, and dodging various school responsibilities, “relaxation” wasn’t exactly on his schedule. But today? For some miraculous reason? He had an open hour. So he dragged you out behind the Savannaclaw dorm where the sun was warm, the grass was soft, and there were no chores to do.

He was halfway through telling you about some weird thing he saw in the cafeteria (“Swear on my granny’s life, the mashed potatoes moved!”) when he realized you weren’t laughing anymore.

He turned his head to look—and there you were.

Head in his lap. Curled up like a cat in a sunbeam. Eyes closed. Asleep.

Ruggie blinked.

Once. Twice.

“…Huh?”

He looked around like this was some kind of prank. “Oi. Y/N?”

No response.

A soft snore.

Ruggie stared down at you, your face squished slightly against his thigh, your fingers loosely gripping his hoodie. He didn’t know what to do with his hands at first. He held them up in the air like you were fragile and he might break you by accident.

He whispered, “…You serious right now?”

His face was bright red. Full-on red as a beet. But his heart? Beating like crazy. Fast and full and warm in a way that made his chest ache.

He glanced down again.

And slowly, hesitantly, the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin.

“Heh… cute.”

Very carefully, he pulled his hoodie sleeve down and tucked it under your head like a makeshift pillow. Then he leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky, his tail flicking lazily behind him.

“You better not start drooling on me,” he muttered—but there was no venom in it. Just affection.

He sat there quietly, keeping still even when his legs started to fall asleep. When you shifted a little and sighed in your sleep, he actually stopped breathing for a second.

Because no one ever really… relaxed around him like that. Not like this. Not since he was a kid in the slums of the Sunset Savanna. This—being someone’s safe place—was something new. Something precious.

And he’d fight anyone who tried to ruin it.

Even if he’d totally deny that later.

Azul Ashengrotto

The Lounge had closed for the night. The clink of glassware had faded, the last customer long gone, and the velvet curtains drawn tight. Everything was bathed in that dim oceanic glow Octavinelle was known for—deep blues and the shimmer of water against stone.

Azul had finally finished sorting through contracts, sighing in satisfaction as he slid the last document into its folder. You were already sitting on the plush couch in the VIP room, legs tucked to the side, watching him with a soft smile on your lips.

“Hard at work, as always,” you teased lightly.

Azul chuckled, brushing his bangs back. “You know how it is. A businessman’s time is never his own.”

“You’ve got time for me now though, right?”

He hesitated only for a moment. “Always.”

You patted the space next to you. He sat, slightly stiff as always—ever the perfect posture. But he relaxed once you leaned against his shoulder. You chatted for a bit, your voice slowly trailing off as the atmosphere quieted. Your head slipped downward, resting lightly against his arm at first… then lower… until suddenly, Azul felt a shift.

He looked down to find your head in his lap.

Asleep.

Breathing gently.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Azul froze. Completely. His hands hovered mid-air, his back went ramrod straight, and panic flickered in his mind like a school of darting fish.

What do I do? Is this allowed? Is she okay? What if she drools? What if Jade sees—oh seven seas—

He dared to look down at your face. Your eyelashes fluttered faintly. Your lips were parted slightly, your expression peaceful. Unburdened. Completely unafraid.

The kind of peace Azul never had in his own head.

He felt his throat tighten.

You trusted him—him, a calculating, manipulative, secret-wielding businessman enough to fall asleep on his lap.

“…You really are bold,” he whispered, voice breaking into a whisper. “But… I suppose I can’t blame you.”

Cautiously, as if worried he’d shatter the moment, Azul rested a hand against your shoulder and the other—so slowly—began to stroke your hair. The strands slipped through his fingers like sea silk. He watched you for what felt like hours, every so often brushing a strand out of your face or tracing the curve of your cheek with his thumb.

And for once… the silence wasn’t unnerving.

It was comforting.

“Maybe just a little longer,” he murmured.

When Jade poked his head in later to report something, his eyes landed on the scene. He raised a brow—but said nothing.

Azul simply met his gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips. For once, he didn’t care about appearances.

Not when you were in his arms.

Jade Leech

The rainforest in the botanical garden was dim, warm, and filled with the sounds of dripping water and the flutter of hidden wings. Jade loved bringing you here after long days—the two of you wandering between the glowing mushrooms and thick vines, talking about strange creatures and even stranger students.

That evening, you had been unusually quiet.

Tired.

He’d noticed. Of course he had. Jade noticed everything.

So, he suggested you rest.

You both sat on a stone bench nestled under an arch of glowing moss. The lights cast a soft green hue over the clearing. Jade had started telling you a story—some obscure tale about a deep-sea creature with a song that lured people into dreams.

And maybe it was his voice—smooth as silk, low and lulling—or maybe it was the way he ran his fingers lazily through the fern beside you, but soon…

Your head slipped gently into his lap.

And you didn’t move again.

Jade blinked once, tilting his head ever so slightly.

“…Oh my.”

Your face was tilted toward him, cheek resting on the fabric of his uniform pants. Your breathing was deep, peaceful. Your body, curled like a cat, radiated warmth into his legs. You made not even the faintest sound.

And Jade?

Jade was frozen—but not out of panic.

He was fascinated.

You trusted him enough to sleep here. On him. Fully vulnerable. Open. And you didn’t even seem to hesitate.

The corners of his lips curled upward into a smile—genuine and serene.

“Well,” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush your hair behind your ear, “you are more interesting than any mushroom I’ve ever encountered.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound blending into the soft symphony of the garden.

Jade’s hand lingered in your hair, slow and thoughtful. He studied the way you clutched the fabric of his jacket with one hand, like you were anchoring yourself to him. And slowly, his usually composed heart began to thrum, unfamiliar and full.

No one ever rested near him this way.

No one dared.

But you did.

“You’ve caught me off guard,” he whispered, almost reverently.

Not a trace of mischief in his tone—only awe.

He leaned down slightly, brushing a kiss to your temple with an elegant tenderness only someone like him could manage.

“I wonder what you’re dreaming of,” he said softly, his voice a promise. “Whatever it is… I hope I’m there.”

And he stayed perfectly still, watching over you like a sentinel in the jungle. Not because he had to—but because he wanted to.

Because you, in that moment, were the most precious thing in his world.

Floyd Leech

The tide was low in his mood today.

Everything felt boring. Club meetings dragged, the Lounge was quiet, and even scaring first-years didn’t give him the usual rush. He was sprawled out on one of the long couches in the Octavinelle dorm lounge, legs dangling off the side, one arm draped over his eyes.

You were with him, of course—his “Shrimpy.” His favorite toy. His favorite person.

Today, though, he wasn’t teasing you or playfully squeezing you until you squirmed. He was unusually quiet, lying still in a rare moment of calm. You sat beside him, chatting softly at first, your fingers absently tracing patterns into his arm.

But then… your voice faded.

Your hand stilled.

He peeked out from under his arm just in time to feel it—your weight shifting as you gently curled up beside him, resting your head right on his stomach. A warm, sleepy sigh left your lips.

And then nothing.

You were asleep.

At first, Floyd just blinked, his mismatched eyes wide with surprise. “Huh?”

He tilted his head forward, peering at you like a curious sea creature watching a pearl roll into its den.

“You really knocked out, huh?”

No answer. Just the sound of your soft breathing, face nestled into his hoodie, arms curled in like you were hugging a plush toy.

Floyd didn’t move.

Didn’t make a sound.

Instead… his grin slowly, slowly spread across his face.

“Eheh~ Shrimpy... you really are something else.”

He gently lifted his hand and let it fall over your back, his fingers splaying like seaweed, curling into the fabric of your shirt. He didn’t squeeze this time. No chaotic thrashing, no threats of “squeeeezin’ ya ‘til ya pop.” Just the weight of his hand, steady and warm, like he was grounding himself in you.

His tailing mood melted like drift ice under sun.

You chose him.

To rest on. To trust. To fall asleep on, even knowing how temperamental he could be.

That tugged at something deep. Something primal and tender. He could feel his heartbeat slow to match yours, lulled by the rhythm of your breath.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” he murmured, voice unusually low and gentle. “If it were anybody else, I’d have chomped ‘em by now for touchin’ me like this.”

But he didn’t move. Not an inch.

He just laid there, arm wrapped around you, letting you use his body like a pillow made of seafoam and muscle.

And when you murmured his name in your sleep—barely audible, just a breath?

Floyd melted entirely.

His grin softened, his head tilted back.

“…Guess I’ll nap too, then. But if I drool on ya, it’s your fault~”

Kalim Al-asim

The palace-like halls of Scarabia were quiet in the golden haze of late afternoon. The sun poured through the arching windows, lighting the silken pillows in warm amber. It had been a long day—flying carpets, music practice, and Kalim pulling you into at least three spontaneous dance circles.

Now, you were both on the balcony, surrounded by flower pots and colorful lanterns swaying in the breeze. Kalim had been talking excitedly about a festival his family hosted once—a night where they lit a thousand paper lanterns and let them float into the sky.

You were curled beside him, resting against his side, nodding along as his hands animated every story.

But eventually… your replies stopped.

He glanced down mid-sentence to find you still. Eyes closed. Breathing soft.

Your head had somehow found its way into his lap, resting there like it belonged. Your hands tucked under your cheek, your face tilted up toward him like you were dreaming of the stars he’d just described.

Kalim’s eyes widened.

“Oh!”

He clapped a hand over his mouth immediately, realizing how loud he was about to be.

“She fell asleep,” he whispered to himself, awed.

He looked down at you like you were made of starlight and gold.

You trusted him. You felt safe with him. So safe, in fact, that you’d fallen asleep in his lap under the open sky.

His heart soared.

“Wow…” he breathed.

He reached out, ever so gently, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead, his fingers trembling just slightly. Not from nerves—Kalim was never shy—but from the sheer overwhelming joy of the moment.

He wanted to laugh, to cheer, to kiss your forehead a hundred times.

But he didn’t.

He sat still, barely breathing, his smile wide and wonder-filled.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his voice full of love. “Like a dream.”

He looked up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by, and then down again at you. His fingers found yours, lacing them together gently.

Kalim’s world was fast, bright, full of noise and song. But this?

This was a quiet kind of joy.

One that filled his chest like sweet air and didn’t need to be shouted.

He leaned down, kissed the crown of your head, and rested his cheek gently against your hair.

“If I had a thousand stars,” he whispered, “I’d give them all to you.”

And there, under the setting sun, with the breeze carrying hints of jasmine and warmth, Kalim stayed absolutely still—just a boy in love, holding his world in his lap.

Jamil Viper

It was late—well past the quiet hours in Scarabia. The sun had long since dipped behind the dunes, and the dorm was bathed in a soft, warm glow from hanging lanterns. The courtyard had emptied after a long day of activities, and only the hush of wind through palm trees and the distant trickle of water from the fountain remained.

Jamil sat beneath the archway overlooking the open courtyard, dressed down in his lounge clothes—simple, dark, loose-fitting, no frills. His shoulders were slouched, rare for someone always so tightly wound. You were beside him, curled up with your legs tucked under you, slowly leaning more and more his way.

The conversation had started casually—stories about Kalim’s antics, about classes, about the endless list of responsibilities Jamil was juggling. But as you listened, your replies grew quieter, slower…

And before he could even finish a sentence, he felt it.

Your head, gentle and warm, settled right into his lap.

Jamil went completely still.

He looked down, blinking, utterly silent.

“…You fell asleep?”

He could hardly believe it. There you were—his girlfriend—just… sleeping on him like it was natural. No hesitation. No fear. Just soft breath against his stomach and one hand lightly curled in his hoodie.

And him?

He didn’t move a muscle.

Jamil wasn’t used to this kind of closeness without strings. He wasn’t used to someone resting on him, not needing anything, not demanding he do something, fix something, prove something.

You were just there.

Sleeping.

Trusting him.

He swallowed hard, his heartbeat loud in his ears. One of his hands hovered above your shoulder, hesitant, as if afraid touching you would wake you—or worse, make the moment disappear.

But then, with a quiet exhale, he let his hand fall gently into your hair.

Fingers threaded through the strands slowly. Carefully. Like you were made of delicate silk.

“Y/N…” he whispered, barely audible.

There was a softness in his eyes no one else ever got to see. He didn’t know if you could hear him in your sleep—but it didn’t matter.

“You really don’t know what you do to me.”

He leaned back against the pillar, staring up at the night sky, the stars peeking through the edges of the courtyard ceiling. For once, he allowed himself a moment of stillness. No planning. No scheming. No worrying about Kalim or school or a hundred responsibilities.

Just you.

Warm and trusting in his arms.

And Jamil—quiet, calm—stayed perfectly still, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he brushed his thumb over your temple.

“If this is a dream,” he whispered, “I don’t want to wake up.”

Vil Schoenheit

The dressing room was quiet.

For once.

The glow of vanity lights lined the mirror, casting golden halos over the room. Bottles, brushes, powders, everything meticulously organized in Vil’s space. You had been keeping him company after his rehearsal—watching him take off his stage makeup with gentle, practiced motions, each movement like part of a performance in itself.

You sat beside him on the plush velvet chaise, your posture proper at first, engaged in conversation. He was mid-rant about a classmate’s awful skincare routine (heaven help them), and you had smiled, eyes soft, head tilted just slightly.

And then…

You slumped sideways.

Right into his lap.

Vil’s breath hitched, and he looked down, mouth parted slightly in surprise.

You… fell asleep?

On him?

“Darling?” he said quietly, brushing his fingers against your shoulder. No response.

Your face was tilted toward him, cheek gently pressed against his thigh, lashes brushing the top of your cheek, lips parted just slightly. You looked so peaceful. So still.

So unaware of how tightly you’d gripped his heart in that moment.

Vil slowly exhaled, lowering his hand to rest on your back. His other hand—still elegant, still carrying the last remnants of lotion—hovered over your hair. And then, with featherlight grace, he began to smooth it back, careful not to disturb your rest.

“Sleeping on a chaise,” he murmured. “That’s hardly ideal posture.”

But his voice had no edge. No scolding. Just… gentle amusement.

Vil Schoenheit was used to control—his appearance, his schedule, his image. And yet, here you were, disrupting all of that with a single act of vulnerability. Trusting him with your body in its most unguarded state.

And it didn’t irritate him.

It moved him.

“This is… dangerous,” he whispered. “You lower my guard far too easily.”

He gazed at you for a long while, memorizing the curve of your face in the soft light. The way your hand rested atop his knee like it belonged there. The softness of your lips, the warmth of your breath.

Vil had been photographed a thousand times, posed beside the most beautiful people in the world.

But this?

This was the most beautiful moment he had ever been part of.

He gently tugged a silk throw blanket from the back of the chaise and draped it over your shoulders, careful not to shift your head. Then, leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your temple—soft, reverent, full of unspoken feeling.

“You’ll be the ruin of me, schatz,” he whispered. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Rook Hunt

The sun had long since begun its descent, draping the vast grounds of NRC in a golden veil. The lush gardens behind Pomefiore dorm basked in that soft honey light, petals curling gently like sleepy sighs, and even the breeze seemed to hush itself to a lullaby. Rook Hunt sat on a stone bench nestled beneath an arch of ivy and lavender, legs crossed with poetic elegance, one arm draped along the bench’s edge, the other cradling a small leather-bound book of Baudelaire’s poetry.

But he had not turned a page in fifteen minutes.

His gaze, normally so sharp and brimming with curiosity, had softened completely—locked onto you, his beloved, curled up in the safest of sanctuaries: his lap.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, of course. It had started with just leaning against him, the sun warming your back and his hand absentmindedly carding through your hair, twirling strands like golden thread between his fingers. His voice had been low, reciting French verses with a soft lilt, letting the words flutter into the air like butterflies. Somewhere between the cadence of his voice, the scent of lilacs, and the rise and fall of his breathing, sleep had stolen you away.

And Rook… was absolutely enchanted.

“Oh, mon ange…” he whispered, barely audible, his breath brushing against the crown of your head.

He didn’t dare move. His usually ever-restless energy was still for once—his stillness more reverent than any silence in the cathedral. Your cheek was resting just over his thigh, your arms folded like a child’s under your head. A soft sigh escaped your lips every now and then, the kind that melted straight into his chest.

It was an intimacy far beyond a stolen kiss or dramatic serenade. This was something quiet. Sacred.

Rook’s gloved fingers ghosted along your shoulder, his thumb brushing ever so lightly against the skin where your shirt had slipped a bit. He chuckled—quietly, tenderly.

“To inspire such trust… Such vulnerability…” He murmured in awe, gazing down at you like one might look at a painting in a gallery, overwhelmed by its beauty but unable to explain why. “Tu es ma muse éternelle.”

The soft flush on your cheeks, the way your lashes kissed your skin, the rhythm of your breath—all of it wove a spell around his heart. A predator by nature, he was always seeking, always hunting the next beautiful moment. But this? This stillness, this peace—this was the rarest prey of all.

Rook leaned back, head tilted toward the twilight sky.

He would sit here forever if it meant you could rest undisturbed. The hunt could wait.

Idia Shroud

The atmosphere in Idia’s room buzzed with low ambient synth music, neon lights tracing cyber-punk lines across the walls, bouncing off rows of figurines and glowing monitors. Ortho had exited the room a while ago, leaving behind a half-empty can of soda and a quiet “I’ll give you two some space, nii-san~” in a sing-song voice that had Idia practically overheating.

You were on the floor, curled in a sea of fuzzy blankets and oversized gaming pillows. Idia had set up your “chill zone,” as he nervously called it—stocked with snacks, manga, and an absurdly cute cat-shaped pillow that he had definitely not bought because it reminded him of the way you smiled.

You had climbed up into his gaming chair at some point, practically draping yourself across his lap, completely fearless. Idia had gone full system error—stiff as a board, hands twitching at his sides, a thousand inner alarms going off.

“Wha—Y-You can’t just—th-th-there’s a process! A sequence! L-like, at least two awkward movie nights before you just go full-on lap-mode!!”

But you hadn’t answered. Your breathing had slowed. Your body had gone warm and heavy.

You’d fallen asleep.

Idia’s heart skipped several beats. He actually had to check that he wasn’t hallucinating. A tiny puff of air escaped your lips, your cheek squished against his hoodie-clad thigh, and your hand, like it had a mind of its own, had curled around the hem of his sleeve.

He froze. Again.

Then slowly, as if afraid to wake a very fluffy, very delicate sleeping beast, he let himself breathe. Just a little.

His hand trembled as it hovered near your head. His fingers twitched like they were afraid to mess it up—you—the whole fragile image of this moment.

And then, very carefully, he let his hand settle into your hair.

“…This is… r-real, right?” he whispered, voice cracking mid-sentence. He bit down on a whimper, overwhelmed.

“She’s literally asleep. On me. Like, I’m not even an NPC in this cutscene. I’m the main questline now.”

A faint giggle threatened to bubble up, but he slapped a hand over his mouth.

Then the other part of his brain chimed in.

What if she wakes up and realizes it’s weird? What if she was just tired and it wasn’t a conscious choice? What if she thinks you’re a total loser for sitting there like a statue?

He shut his eyes tight.

No. No, for once, he wouldn’t self-destruct this moment. Not when it felt like he’d stepped into a rare hidden level that only unlocked when your affection for an NPC was maxed out.

He looked down at you again, marveling at the tiny breath of warmth rising and falling against him.

“You’re like… my safe point,” he mumbled into the dark, letting his fingers finally settle gently in your hair.

A small ping from his PC reminded him a new update had installed.

“Whatever, I already got the best patch.”

Malleus Draconia

It was a rare, quiet evening at Diasomnia. No thunder echoed from the mountains, no duties called for the crown prince, and no students dared interrupt the rare moment of peace Malleus found with you.

The courtyard behind the dormitory was bathed in moonlight, silver threads weaving between tall hedges and ancient statues. You’d been chatting beside him on a stone bench, your legs curled beneath you, fingers grazing his as you recounted a ridiculous tale Ace had told you during lunch. Malleus listened—his eyes never straying from your face, utterly enchanted by your every word. You were warm and brilliant, like the sun he’d always been curious about, and it was moments like this that made him feel closer to understanding it.

But the day had been long. Long classes, longer conversations, and the gentle lull of Malleus’s deep voice had slowly pulled you into the edges of slumber. One moment you were chuckling, your cheek in your palm, and the next… your head tilted gently against his thigh.

Malleus stiffened slightly—not in discomfort, but surprise.

He blinked down at you, your lashes fluttering, your lips parting slightly as your breathing evened out. His first instinct was stillness. Dragons, after all, are patient creatures. He gazed at your peaceful form, processing the trust it took for you to doze off like this—on him. Vulnerable. Soft.

“My treasure…” he whispered, voice low with reverence.

He gently adjusted his posture, making sure your head had a comfortable angle. One clawed hand hovered hesitantly in the air before slowly descending to stroke your hair, tender and cautious, like touching spun gold.

“Even in sleep, you are unafraid of me.” The words were not sad, but filled with quiet awe.

The warmth of your body against him, the subtle scent of your perfume, and the delicate rise and fall of your breath began to unravel something inside Malleus. A rare emotion—one that wrapped around his ancient heart like ivy. He had seen kingdoms rise and fall, yet here you were, the most precious thing he’d ever held, choosing to rest in his lap like he was your sanctuary.

As your hand twitched in your sleep, seeking his, Malleus smiled.

He laced your fingers together, holding you close.

“You will never know harm while I breathe,” he murmured, more promise than poetry.

He remained there, unmoving, for as long as you needed. Watching over you with all the devotion of a dragon guarding his hoard, his heart heavy with love and light.

Lilia Vanrouge

The music from the Lounge had died down hours ago, and yet the two of you lingered in the quiet common room of Diasomnia, curled up on an emerald velvet settee, bathed in candlelight.

You had been scrolling through photos on your phone, laughing at memories, while Lilia lounged beside you, arms spread over the back of the couch, looking for all the world like a retired general watching over his beloved court jester.

His teasing quips had slowed as the hour crept past midnight. You were curled sideways now, legs draped over his, head tucked against his shoulder.

And then… your body shifted slightly.

You sighed—a soft, exhausted exhale—and gently, instinctively, nestled your head into his lap. Your phone slid from your hand to the cushion with a muffled thud.

Lilia paused mid-sentence, blinking. Then he looked down.

“Well, well…” His voice was a whisper, touched with warmth and amusement. “You’ve gone and melted into my lap, little bat.”

There was no complaint in his tone. Only gentle adoration.

He shifted minutely, reaching for a throw blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch. With practiced ease, he draped it over your form, tucking it around your shoulders with a tenderness only centuries of experience could perfect.

As your cheek pressed against his thigh, he could feel the subtle hum of your breath through his clothes. He gently brushed your hair away from your face, taking a moment to admire your features—so soft, so trusting, so utterly you.

Lilia had lived longer than most stars, but never had he found a moment quite like this.

“A sight sweeter than sakura in spring,” he murmured, one gloved hand resting lightly atop your head.

He leaned back, gazing at the ceiling, his other hand lazily tracing invisible patterns against your arm beneath the blanket.

He thought of the countless battles he’d fought, the wars he’d survived, the heartbreaks endured. And yet this moment—this quiet, sleeping you—was what he found himself wanting to protect most of all.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly, “I’ll keep watch tonight, just as I always have. Even nightmares wouldn’t dare bother you while I’m here.”

A mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes, even as his voice remained soft.

“And if you drool on me, well… I suppose I’ll consider it a badge of honor.”

He chuckled lightly to himself, and resumed playing with your hair, humming a lullaby so old the stars had likely forgotten it. It was a melody sung once in ancient fae courts, now resurrected just for you.

Lilia, the eternal guardian, kept his silent vigil, heart full and content.

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crush-itis · 3 days ago

Text

　 ㅤ. 𓂂 Twisted Wonderland ⊹

general lilia x fem!reader ꒱ fanfic

　 ㅤㅤ ˖ chapter three ׄ ⊹ 𓂃 　

‧₊˚✩ tags： gilf, sfw, fluff, angst, slowburn

‧₊˚✩ word count： 1178

‧₊˚✩ summary： You’re a mix of human, and fae; it sounds otherworldly—extraordinary, however, while your origin may sound like another case of a Mary Sue cliche, the people of both worlds of your kind had casted you aside because of your mongrel background… that was until you met Lilia, your becoming mentor who’ll introduce you to the world of your human blood’s counterpart, and blend in the faes’ society.

‧₊˚✩ a/n： i accidentally made him hate yew sorry guys also another short chapter im tew layzee to write 😓🙏🙏 @kiki-kuku

୨ ◟ ͜ ◞◟ ͜ ◞　previous ch.⠀♡ next ch.

You were stressing, and you felt that familiar churn in your upper abdomen, you had to clench your stomach.

You were also getting dizzy.

Your palms felt moist, and clammy.

You inhaled deeply as another wave of anxiety flushed through you.

You can’t just kill someone. Your bloodied hands were dirty enough.

You didn’t want to do this, you were so scared, you felt like you were about to faint.

You ran a trembling hand to your hair.

Catching a knot, you groaned at the slight, piercing pain in your scalp.

Your shirt was a quarter buttoned, and you started hearing footsteps coming from downstairs that you assumed were Lilia’s.

You start needing to toot now—you had to clench your butt a little.

Your eyes began to well up into tears, and you sniffled.

You scrambled to lock the door with sweaty hands so he wouldn’t be able to see your exposed chest, but the stupid door wouldn’t budge.

Oh my goodness, your heart dropped.

You just stood there, eyes wide, mouth agape.

“Hey, Y/N, they have scrambled eggs, and bread for breakfast.” Lilia swooped inside with a tray in his hands.

Glazing his eyes over you, he blinked.

“You’re still not finished changing? We have to leave in a few minutes.” He scoffed then set your plate, and tray down on the bedside.

The smell of hearty cooked eggs, and toast did little to calm your raging your nerves.

“I’ll be in the gift shop…” his voice trailed off when his eyes lowered to your upper assets...

His raised a brow,

“getting a few things.” He finished his sentence before closing the door behind him.

Your throat went dry.

You don’t remember the human realm being this big.

Well you did live in the smaller parts of Fleur City, the dirty, old, and lonely slums…

But besides your gloomy past, the town square was bustling with activities, and little markets were open.

Your nose twitched at the smell of juicy, fresh, street food.

The waft of sweet-smelling aroma of a bakery nearby came your way, and you felt your mouth water.

You never had the chance to try candy or rich pastries.

At least you had scrambled eggs, and bread though.

But what really caught your eye were these jewelled hair combs this one vender was selling.

They also sell these intricate, handcrafted purses.

They were so expensive.

It felt illegal to look at them for free.

You always romanticized about living as a princess or a woman of high power when you were young.

And you still did.

You really wanted this beautiful hair brush with a portable mirror inside.

But you don’t have the wallet to get it.

“Y/N! Get moving, stop going over there!” Lilia’s voice beamed towards you, waking you of your childish daydreaming.

Shucks.

You’re lost, and you really can’t find Lilia in these crowded streets without bumping into a thousand people.

When you finally found Lilia, he was panting, and sweating all over. At least he didn’t carry an oder or something.

He wrapped his cloak around him, huffing, and puffing as he hid away from the sun.

“It’s so hot in here.” He cursed under his breath.

You had never seen Lilia in such a compromising, and vulnerable state before.

It wasn’t even that hot either.

“Right, I found the perfect target.” He handed you a dagger, secretly slipping it into your pocket.

You hesitated, feeling the sheathed blade with your quivering thumb.

He took you into a discreet, dim lit, narrow alleyway.

You heard rats scrambling, and squeaking inside the sewers. You could also hear crickets singing from the nearby, tall, and grey, muddy grass.

It was a familiar soundtrack that reminded you of your homeless days…

Anyway, the loudest thing you heard was your beating—racing heart. You gulped, scratching your nape.

Your pulse hammered away from your growing trepidation, and you were practically in the brink of fainting (again).

It started to feel painful hearing your loud heartbeat ring in your ears.

You sulk, covering your ears with your sweaty, matted hair.

“Lilia, I don’t think I can do this…” you muffled through gritted teeth.

His eyes narrowed, brows knitting downward.

Oh naw.

“I can’t.. I’m scared.” The panic was clear in your voice.

“I don’t think this can help me become a faerie or something.”

Lilia’s frown grew.

“I just don’t think it’s possible.” You fiddled, and pulled at your sweaty, ring finger.

“I just—“

“You’ve wasted my time, human.”

Your head ached.

“Do you really want to go back home with nothing, without even trying the method?”

No. Not at all.

But you just can’t kill someone.

You were silent for a moment,

“I brought you here, willing to help you.”

“There is no other way to become a faerie without doing this.”

“I thought you dreamed to be one or the other. I thought you didn’t want to be the outcast of both worlds.”

You hear Lilia let out a frustrated sigh.

He scratched his nape, walking away, expecting you to follow him.

You bit your lip, clenching your fists. You were frustrated too. You don’t understand how this could really help you because it clearly wasn’t.

The ride back home was not fun at all.

It was gratingly silent, blue, and gloomy.

And it was all your fault.

Now you’re going to take an agonizing poop right after.

Back inside the inn, Lilia didn’t talk to you for the whole night.

He even made the pillow barrier wider, purposely giving you so little space while he had like half the bed.

That made you more irritated than sad now.

You pushed the pillow barrier closer to his, giving yourself more space.

His eyes shot wide open at that, pushing it back towards you.

You grumbled, trying to stop him.

You two spent five minutes straight pushing the pillow back to the other’s space.

Huffing, and puffing with fists rolled up, Lilia suddenly pulled your hair.

You groaned, letting out a whiny “ow”.

Going in, you snatched the pillow from him, smacking the cushion towards his face.

Feathers jut out from the linens, and you both sneezed uncontrollably.

“You petulant human!”

Surprisingly, Lilia decided to keep you anyway even after your little pillow fight with him.

One evening, you took a walk inside the palace hallways, wandering around with your hands clasped behind your back.

It was huge here, and you believed you were inside the empty parts of the castle.

You didn’t see a servant in sight, and it was quiet, and lonely.

But you didn’t mind.

Lilia was being rude so you went off to take a walk to clear your clouded head.

You were so anxious that day, your heart was still racing at the thought of it.

Watching your step, and not looking your way, you bumped into someone.

Someone tall.

Looking up, you felt your nerves flare from sudden fear.

You’re not sure why.

But why was this guy so oddly, and eerily intimidating?

pic creds to Millie 🪽

#i love you #twisted wonderland #disney twst #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland lilia #twst lilia #twst lilia vanrouge #twst x reader #twst lilia x reader #general lilia vanrouge #monochomatic #monochrome #twst #twst fanfic

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meltedbluecaterpillar · 5 days ago

Text

I Don't Care!: Diasomnia

Heartslabyul - Savanaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomfiore - Ignihyde

Romantic Jealousy: Based on real or imagined threats to a romantic relationship. There could be a history of infidelity or flirtations; however, this could also be solely based on insecurities. Sexual/Suspicious Jealousy: Based on fears that a partner may have cheated or be engaged in inappropriate communication.

Does he get jealous?

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is very aware that he isn't as social as his peers. So when Floyd comes to tease you he can't help but get emotional...

Malleus crossed his arms over his chest, watching the scene unfold with knit brows. Classes had ended for the day, and Malleus had made his way through the halls to retrieve you from Ace and Deuce and all of the other students that tended to cling and hover around you.

Malleus personally disliked it. It wasn't that you having friends upset him. It was the way they appeared so close. How they all seemed to yearn for your attention. Malleus was the object of your affections. No one else. The only 'person' he begrudgingly shared with was Grim.

So seeing Floyd wrapping his arms around your shoulders left his stoic expression twitching and contorting into a silent fury. Malleus couldn't see your expression. But through body language alone he could tell you were uncomfortable. Floyd cooed and lifted you off your feet as he squeezed your body. Until he noticed Malleus in the corner of his eye.

"Shrimpy, Sea Slug came to getcha." He sang softly as Floyd smiled as he pivoted, holding you against his body as he and Malleus locked eyes. "Guess that means we can't play today." Floyd held his stare with Malleus, disinterested in the way the clear sky began to swirl with darkened clouds. How the wind started to pick up and shake the trees. Floyd snickered before letting you go, you stumbled as your feet suddenly hit the floor, and Malleus reached out to catch you. Causing their locked eyes to break. "Specially 'cause Sea Slug seems mad..." His tone was still playful, but the twin seemed to be making a brisk walk in the other direction down the hall.

Malleus assisted you in standing, his hands holding your shoulders as he looked you over. The silent fury had melted into melancholy. "Are you alright?" He asked, the dark and heavy clouds had began to produce rain over the campus. Something that wasn't on today's forecast until now.

You nodded, thanking him with a sigh. Floyd was too rough, too handsy. You didn't like it. You asked Malleus to lean down so that way you could thank him. You pressed your lips against his cheek. And with his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed a dusty rose pink;

The weather had cleared again.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia didn't view himself as insecure. He was just having a hard time seeing Ace so close to you...

Lilia is an old man. You are not. Sometimes he would watch you run and play with those closer to you in age. Lilia was 700 years your senior. He had no issue with taking your hand when he discovered his feelings for you.

But with age comes with new anxieties. He wouldn't live forever. But there was a chance he would outlive you as well.

He stood near the once empty classroom. Listening in on a conversation being had between you and Ace. He never meant to pry on you personal matters unless you brought them up to him. But Lilia couldn't help it. "I do like you." Ace admitted, his tone awkward as Lilia leaned against the wall. His arms crossed as a frown rested on his lips. "And I know you're with Lilia but... I'm just saying, he's a thousand years old-" Lilia's eyes turned towards the tips of his shoes when you corrected Ace. Reminding your classmate that Lilia was a few hundred years younger than one thousand.

The conversation continued with Ace making an attempt to convince you to leave Lilia in exchange for him. Ace is around your age. He's human. And you would be perfectly happy with a more 'natural' arrangement. A Fae and a human was extremely uncommon in this world. In your world, Fae didn't even exist.

You raised your voice, startling Lilia as he listened to you shout at Ace. How he was just a little 'booger' and making a suggestion like this had to be one of many other reasons why he was still single. When Lilia heard you storming towards the door, he dashed down the hall and into another empty classroom to hide.

His heart thudded in his ribs. Lips parted as he caught his breath. His face warm as his hands now clenched into fists at his side. Lilia was upset with Ace making a move on you.

But he was ecstatic to know that you truly did cherish him just as much as he cherished you.

Silver Vanrouge

Silver already has so much to worry about. Something about Deuce being your friend made him worry...

Silver couldn't help how often he dozed off. His head bobbed as he sat on a small plastic chair beside you, leaning back with a stern look as he fought against his desires to sleep.

You were holding a stop watch and a small clipboard. Coding everyone on the track team for their times as Coach Vargas barked for everyone to pick up the pace. Silver didn’t mind. He knew that you liked to help your first year friends.

It was early in the morning on a Saturday. A little chilly, but nothing Silver couldn’t handle. But just for you, he had brought a black parka with the Diasomnia emblem for you to wear as the two of you sat in the cold air.

Now it was time for the team to take a break. Get some water, check on their time, stretch if they needed to. Deuce came over with a bright smile. Silver liked Deuce. He's a good boy with good intentions. He cherishes his mother and he has lots of growing to do. His eyes fluttered shut as the two of you talked. His head bobbed again. Even after an energy drink and a paper cup of coffee, he still couldn't stay awake.

"O-Oh but... I mean we don't have to do it like a date..." The words that left Deuce's lips filled Silver with the energy he needed for his eyes to shoot open. He sat up in his chair and looked at Deuce. "I know Deuce, it's just studying." You smiled up at him. Deuce awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Still smiling as Silver stared in disbelief. Maybe he misheard something.

Deuce wouldn't pull that in front of him. There's no way. "Is it okay if I join?" Silver asked the two of you. His expression hardening as you turned to face him with a soft laugh. "If you want. We're just going over some stuff for a test on Monday." You and Deuce are classmates, even though you're Silvers age.

But something didn't sit right with Silver. Especially since Deuce looked disappointed after he invited himself to the study session. Or 'date', according to Deuce.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek doesn't believe in jealousy. But Ruggie proves that to be false...

Sebek narrowed his eyes, his teeth dragging into his bottom lip as he saw Ruggie holding one of your books above his head. Tossing it between one hand to the other. He was smirking, trying to get you to play with him.

"Is he a middle schooler?!" Sebek huffed and made his way over, now standing behind you as he easily took your textbook back from Ruggie. "Enough! No horseplaying in the halls!" He shouted as the beastman looked up in shock. And so did you. But you looked much happier to see Sebek than Ruggie did.

"Great, Loud Mouth is here." He huffed in annoyance as he folded his hands behind his head. "I was just messing around, don't burst a vein." Ruggie grumbled as Sebek handed you your textbook back. Remaining behind you with his hands now attaching themselves to your shoulders.

"I am not a Loud Mouth! And I am sure the Prefect doesn't appreciate you bothering them." Sebek didn't realize he was causing a scene now. Ruggie started to smirk again. "How would you know?" The hyena asked as he started to take a step away. "You have no idea how close we actually are Sebek. Since you're always gushing about your boyfriend Malleus-" "Lord Malleus is not my boyfriend!" He snapped as he started to slowly process what Ruggie said.

You and Ruggie are friends. Sebek was aware of that. It didn't bother him, until right now. You barked at Ruggie to leave Sebek alone, and the hyena only snickered and made his way down the hall. Vanishing among the sea of students. Sebek is one of Malleus' retainers. His job was to watch over the future king of Briar Valley. Sebek wasn't the best at managing his time between you and Malleus. But he did try.

So what did Ruggie mean by that? Was he just talking to hear his own voice? Or was something else going on?

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22ayla21 · 8 hours ago

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Hello, may I request a Raspberry sorbet and Red wine for Lilia Vanrouge, please?

"Raspberry Sorbet and Red Wine"

Event: "Sweet Stories, Intoxicating Feelings"

Evenings in the Briar Valley breathed a special enchantment. The winds whispered ancient tales, the sunset sky blazed with a deep gold, and time seemed to slow its pace, gifting each moment with fullness – like wine poured into a slender glass, waiting for its aroma to fill the air.

Lilia, comfortably settled on the terrace, watched his wife with a tender smile as she fussed over their little daughter. The girl laughed melodiously, patting the table with her small hands, where a dessert stood – raspberry sorbet. Bright, sparkling, as if a ray of the setting sun had frozen in its berry coolness. His wife gently fed their daughter, laughing in response to her funny grimaces as she wrinkled her nose at the cold, but immediately demanded another spoonful.

At that moment, Lilia thought that if love could be compared to something simple, then in the very beginning it was exactly like this – like this raspberry sorbet. Light, refreshing, with an unexpected spark piercing the very heart. A burst of flavor, a fleeting bliss – and now it was hard to imagine life without this sweet coolness on the tongue.

When he first realized he had fallen in love with an ordinary woman – not a sorceress, not a warrior, not an ephemeral dreamer, but a living and real one, with warm hands, tired eyes, and a kind voice – it was like inhaling the scent of a summer garden after the rain. An inexplicable, almost childlike feeling. Raspberry sorbet in the heart of a warrior.

They were different. He – from a world where honor and blood were inseparable, where every gesture held magic, and a smile could be both caress and deception. She – from a world where tea is drunk hot in any weather, and where the words "everything is fine" truly mean peace.

But love turned out to be something more than a simple coincidence or logic. It had, as it turned out later, the patience of wine.

Years passed. The raspberry sorbet did not disappear – it remained in memories, in light touches, in quiet laughter in the kitchen. But love became different. Not a flash, but a depth. Not an icy sweetness, but the velvety richness of mature wine. Aged, rich, where each year lived added a new note.

There were quarrels. Sometimes the silence lasted agonizingly long. Sometimes they got lost in the routine of everyday life. But they always found their way back to each other. They always returned to what bound them. And every time her fingers gently touched his cheek, and her gaze met his – calm, understanding, warm – Lilia felt that long aftertaste. Rich, like that of a wine, of which one sip is enough to warm the very heart.

Sometimes he brewed tea, not caring about the exact proportions, and she baked a pie, grumbling at the capricious oven, and in these moments love manifested itself in laughter, in playful teasing, in random kisses, in the babbling of their daughter. He looked at them and understood: there had been battles, blood, triumphs, and defeats in his life – but here was the true reward.

Love, like sorbet, refreshes the soul at the very beginning, giving faith in a miracle. But only time, patience, and years spent together turn it into wine – a drink where every sip is a story, and every moment is meaning.

Lilia closed his eyes. A light breeze played with his hair, his daughter laughed carefree, and his wife leaned down and touched his temple with a kiss, leaving a fleeting raspberry scent on his skin.

"Everything okay?" she asked softly.

"Perfect," he replied, feeling warmth spreading inside him.

He knew: love is not just one feeling. It is an entire journey. From icy sweetness to warm depth. From a fleeting spark – to an unquenchable fire that warms the whole life.

#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #22ayla21 #sweet stories intoxicating feelings

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telephoniii · 3 months ago

Text

REALLY…HIM?

☆彡 in which professor trein judges your relationship with the NRC boys

NRC boys x Reader (minus Ortho)

Word Counter: 3K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, Trein is your father figure, established relationship, possible OOC

A/N: life’s getting pretty hectic so i’m sorry if my upload schedule slows down. i hope you enjoy :>

ace trappola

Can’t say he’s surprised, just disappointed. It makes sense; he was one of your first friends. However, that doesn’t make him any less troublesome. Despite being a first-year, Ace is one of the biggest slackers and troublemakers on campus— much to Trein’s dismay. His main worry is that Ace will poorly influence you. He’s already seeing it with the two of you getting a crazy amount of detentions and scoldings for unthinkable reasons. You’ve got it rough already being from another world, you don’t need a devil on your shoulder convincing you to get into all kinds of trouble. It’s a real shame said devil is your boyfriend. He’ll allow the relationship and all will seem swell. Little do you know that he pulled Ace aside and had a long chat.

deuce spade

A fine pick; Trein is neither severely impressed nor disappointed. He doesn’t think Deuce is too bad, but he believes you could do better. Deuce will need to somehow prove himself to Trein. On the outside, Trein looks like he absolutely hates his guts. His eyes are always staring at Deuce with this sharp look and it gets the card soldier real nervous real fast. In reality, it’s just Trein keeping a closer eye on him + his RBF. He’s relatively neutral on the first year, yet Deuce is fully convinced that his professor wants to set him on fire.

cater diamond

Trein is very annoyed with your choice. He doesn’t like Cater’s social media addiction and would much rather have you hit the books than scrolling through Magicam. Not to mention, he feels as though something about Cater’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a facade, and doesn’t trust him around you. Cater finds Trein scary, but he’s not as intimidated as Deuce. As he does with Ace, Trein takes Cater to have a talk, and—surprisingly— his opinions on the third year improve. He doesn’t fully like him, but he’ll tolerate Cater more so than beforehand. Cater also offers to help Trein make a social media account; it’s cute yet chaotic all the same watching them bond.

trey clover

Before Trein can form a solid thought on Trey, the vice housewarden is subtly trying to win his favor. Trey knows how about his father-like connection to you and immediately shapes up. He gifts Trein different pastries and learns which ones he’s partial to. What really wins the professor over is when Trey starts volunteering to help clean his classroom after class. Trein won’t even know the two of you are already together and he’ll make comments around you like, “That Clover boy is real nice…” Needless to say, Trein approves of Trey long before he finds out you both are in a relationship.

riddle rosehearts

Trein immediately scowls when he hears the news of your relationship. You’d think he’d approve due to Riddle’s intellect and dutiful behavior. Admittedly, Trein does like that about Riddle. But he despises the boy’s bursts of anger, finding them childish and unfitting for a future mage. He’s seen the housewarden go berserk on one too many students and doesn’t trust he won’t do the same to you. Trein doesn’t want you walking on eggshells around your own partner. This is another one who’ll have to prove themselves to Trein. Riddle will be upset when he hears of Trein’s low opinion of him, but gets a surge of motivation to convince him otherwise. You’ll find Riddle working even harder on his studies than before you didn’t even think that was possible in hopes of gaining Trein’s favor. He’ll eventually get it. I imagine that Riddle does some small, heroic deed for you that really shows his love, and Trein just so happens to be passing by and sees it. Once your unofficial official father in Twisted Wonderland gets along with Riddle, expect to be nagged about missing assignments and homework a WHOLE LOT.

jack howl

Similar to Trey, he immediately knows about your bond with Trein. Instead of trying to win over the professor, Jack takes a more blunt approach. He goes straight to his desk after class and tells him about your relationship, being upfront about his feelings towards you. Trein respects it. He thinks that Jack has more guts than most on campus and trusts him to protect you. He’s quite supportive of the relationship, acting as a mentor for the both of you. You can catch him watching the two of you with a tiny smile, murmuring something along the lines of, “Young love.” The two of you remind him of his own marriage with his late wife. It makes him sentimental in a way.

ruggie bucchi

A BIG 180 FROM JACK. Trein thinks this guy is sleazy. Ruggie couldn’t care less in the beginning, finding it funny to practically hang off your shoulder while Trein stared daggers into him. Then it started to seep in that it may or may not be important to get Trein’s approval for a long-term relationship with you. That’s when he gets his act together and completely starts sucking up to Trein. He’ll help out with paperwork, errands, cleaning up, etc! All for free! much to his dismay All Ruggie asks for in return is Trein’s support for your relationship. He catches Trein by surprise with how well his work ethic is. The lengths the hyena goes to for you ends up leaving the professor impressed.

leona kingscholar

Professor Trein is both surprised and disappointed. Now how did this happen? He didn't think Kingscholar was capable of being nice to anyone, let alone get into a whole relationship. Well, he bugs you to tell your boyfriend to start showing up to class. He’s not exactly happy with you dating a huge slacker like him, but Trein knows that Leona is a smart boy. Brash and not his first pick, sure, but he wouldn’t play with your heart or rope you into anything stupid. He trusts Kingscholar to protect you. But if he starts seeing you begin to skip class— which is going to happen, Leona’s going to make you do it at least once— he’ll pull YOU aside and give you an earful. Tough love, unfortunately.

floyd leech

Hell no. All the red blaring flags. Now why would you go and do that? Really? Out of EVERYONE? You bet your bottoms Trein is actively speaking out against your relationship every single time he sees you. He doesn't even want to try to talk to Floyd. Trein is convinced you are addicted to getting in trouble and lets out the biggest old man sigh. Is there any way Floyd can win the professor’s favor? Probably not. And if there was a way, would Floyd even do it? Big fat no. Floyd thinks it is hilarious that Professor Trein disapproves, upping his affections around him with that toothy grin of his. And if you guys have a class together that Trein teaches? Chaos. Expect a lot of paper balls to be thrown at you.

jade leech

“Are you okay??” Is the first thing Trein asks when you tell him you and Jade are in a relationship. Doesn't exactly trust the boy, but Jade tends to behave around him. The professor has always seen him being picture-perfect whenever he’s around which is 100% suspicious, but Trein doesn't have any solid reasons to disapprove. Jade, like his brother, finds the whole situation very amusing. He’s always figuring out new ways to appear like the ‘ideal boyfriend’ to Trein. If he ever talks to the professor he’ll slip in a comment like, “I never disappoint, trust me” and it makes Trein distrust him even more.

azul ashengrotto

Now what bet did you lose for this to have happened? At least Ashengrotto is a star student, you need to hang out around more of those in his opinion. After confirming that, “No, no bet was lost,” and “No, he’s not paying for my love,” Trein was pretty alright with it. The Monstro Lounge is a student-ran organization, it's clear from that the young boy is capable and responsible. He just keeps a very, very close eye on you two. The last thing Trein wants is for Azul to take advantage of you since— knowing him— he seems like the type to do so. Expect frequent questions of “How’s your relationship going?” and “He’s treating you right, right?” Azul is going to get asked to stay after class to talk. Trein then proceeds to threaten lecture him on how to properly treat your lover. He just wants to make sure you don't get wrapped up in one of those contracts he’s heard about. Azul has quite the track record.

kalim al asim

Automatically assumes you’re dating him for the money and begins to ramble about how you should marry for love. Tells you about his late wife and how much he loved her— it is so sweet I'm actually crying. That's the kind of love he wants you to have. You’ve got to reassure him that, “Yes, my certified father figure, I do love him very much and I’m not just in it for the money.” After that talk, he finds the relationship sweet but kind of concerning. Kalim is a nice boy but severely naive and, frankly, incompetent. Trein starts to go a little harder on Kalim in class, not that he was going easy anyway. He scrutinizes the essays he turns in and chastises him for missing an assignment. As he watches you kiss Kalim on the cheek after getting an A, Trein can only sigh and think, “He’s lucky he’s rich.”

jamil viper

Trein’s pretty okay with him. He’s a level-headed guy with passable grades and the title of a vice housewarden. However, the professor did hear about his Overblot and does think that there's more beneath the surface. He doesn't judge him for his Overblot, no. But Trein does keep a closer eye on him to make sure he isn't scheming anything involving you. The professor also tries to push him to do better academically. He’s heard from you about how smart Jamil truly is and can see his potential, so he tries to get him to stop holding back. Jamil is a little appreciative of it and respects Trein as your father figure, but still isn't a fan of sticking out. Nor does he plan on giving into Trein’s attempts.

epel felmier

Is fine with the relationship at first. He was polite, soft-spoken, and a part of Pomfiore. Most students belonging to that dorm are pompous, but respectful nonetheless. Then Epel’s true nature comes out and Trein is constantly reprimanding him for horseplay. It's kinda funny how surprised Trein is by Epel’s country toughness. The professor definitely had his suspicions— nobody at NRC is innocent, he’s learned every student here has some sort of dark side— but he definitely wouldn't have expected this. A part of Trein actually prefers him like this. You are dating someone with a backbone who will defend you. He encourages Epel to be himself around him, promising a judgment-free area. They get along pretty well surprisingly, with Trein being a sort of mentor to him. Overall, very sweet and Trein approves.

rook hunt

In the most blunt way possible, Trein tells you, “Your boyfriend weirds me out.” He thinks Rook is an oddball for sure. No way around it. Is half convinced Rook is stalking him. Because he is. When you explained to your boyfriend about the bond you had with Professor Trein, he got way too intrigued and ended up ‘watching’ Trein like he does to Leona. It's not until the professor makes a passing comment about being paranoid that he’s being watched that you realized, “Oh shit my boyfriends stalking you.” You don't say that to him— you don't want Rook getting in trouble. So you settle on having a really long talk with Rook about it who reassures you he’d never disturb your father figure or the absolutely beautiful bond between the two of you. He still worries you sometimes when he goes missing and randomly reappears by walking out of Trein’s classroom.

vil schoenheit

Trein worries that Vil won’t make the time for you. He’s aware that Schoenheit is a busy boy as he’s missed his class plentiful in the past. He’ll make Vil stay after class for a little to talk to him about it, giving him a fatherly warning about being ready to fully commit to a relationship and the time it takes to manage one. Vil is, admittedly, insulted that Trein doubts his ability to wholeheartedly love you but takes it in stride. He sees this as a sign to up his game in the romance department and properly does so, dedicating more time to pampering you. The professor expresses his concerns to his coworker, Crewel, who talks his ear off about how much of a “good pup” Vil is and that he won't disappoint. Trein can’t help but agree when he spots you walking into class looking more freshened with slight makeup on and a new hair-do that Vil definitely did for you.

idia shroud

Once you break the news to Trein, he immediately asks to meet with Idia one-on-one. The blue-haired student rarely shows up to class! And that iPad isn't going to cut it forever! He needs to be able to size him up in person. Idia, naturally, is scared to death. At first, he immediately declines, insisting that they don't really need to meet up, the whole idea is stupid, and it’ll be fine if he stays right there in his room. Then you sit down with him and tell him how important Trein is to you and… sigh You landed a natural 20 on the dice of persuasion. Idia can’t believe he's doing this. You’re beside him the whole time as he stutters in front of Trein. Is Trein impressed? No, not at all. Yet your confidence in the Shroud and constant praise is reassuring. The professor’s going to make you force Idia into showing up in person in class. His attendance rivals Leona's.

sebek zigvolt

Doesn't really care for Sebek despite the first year's desperate attempts at trying to impress him. Sebek lost him after he started talking about Malleus when Trein asked about you. Ever since then, it’s just been him trying to win him back to no prevail. Kinda sad to watch. He’ll be the biggest gentleman ever: rushing to doors to open them for Trein, scrubbing his whole classroom for him from top to bottom, and yelling at other students to be quiet— though he was pretty much doing that before you two even got together. But every time Sebek gets close to winning the professor’s favor, he ends up going on a tangent about how amazing his liege is, and we're back at square one. You’ve got to rub him on the back and kiss him on the cheek while telling him, “Trein will come around one day!” Even if that day never comes.

silver

Not a fan. He’s witnessed Silver fall asleep in his class one too many times and thinks it's disrespectful. Once you tell Silver, he’s upset as it's not exactly something he can change, but will put in extra effort not only in Trein’s class but in all his classes. He studies with you beside him so you can prevent him from falling asleep when you see him get all drowsy-eyed. Trein immediately takes note of Silver’s hard work and grit as the boy passes his class with flying colors while asking if there’s anything he could do to help him after hours. It's only when he hears from his fellow teachers that Silver has been doing exceptionally well is he actually impressed. Afterwards, Trein will start being more understanding of Silver’s constant sleeping. He won't be any less strict, but he won’t lay into him for it as hard as before since learning it's out of Silver’s control. Trein thinks rather positively of your relationship, comparing it to the ones in the fairytales.

lilia vanrouge

A bit disturbed, to say the least. Lilia is older than him after all. Trein tried to keep a close eye on the two of you, but Lilia always caught him and pursued a staring match. Trein was always the first to look away. Lilia finds it entertaining. He tries to play tiny tricks on the professor, but you stop him at the very last minute. You sit down and try to explain that you deeply care about Trein and, by extension, what Trein thinks of him. Lilia proceeded to suggest that he brings Trein some cookies to win him over to which you immediately say no. Honestly, I don’t see Trein really ever warming up to Lilia. He just pretends the old bat doesn't exist and isn't your boyfriend. Lilia finds that incredibly funny while you're dying inside.

malleus draconia

The fact you were able to get close to the Draconia is an impressive feat to Trein. However, future ruler of Briar Valley or not, he intends to make sure that Malleus treats you right. Right when you tell Malleus that Trein is basically your father, the fae goes straight to the professor, confesses to him about your relationship, and swears to take good care of you with this ominous tone. Trein isn’t very fond of Malleus at first, struggling to decipher whether or not that introduction was genuine. It isn't until you go to him after class, gushing about the late-night walk you went on with Malleus yesterday and shoving cute little polaroid photos in his face does Trein begin to trust the fae. He makes sure to scold you for not being asleep at that time, yes, but he stares at one of the photographs for way too long, imagining you and Malleus as him and his late wife for a moment. A small smile appears on his face. However, he can’t help but think that the two of you are down a similar path; the happiest marriage ever, kids, and one lover outliving the other. A tragedy, but he’ll let you enjoy it while it lasts just like he did. As long as you’re happy.

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pomefioredove · 2 months ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends forever

summary: a beaded competition for yuu's affections type of post: drabbles characters: all students additional info: platonic or romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, based on an ask I got a while ago, fluffy, predictable sappy ending

Word travels fast at Night Raven College.

Gossip, secrets, whispers exchanged in the darkened halls, from student to professor, to professor to ghost, to student again.

The Ramshackle Prefect was beaming, bright as the dawn itself on Monday morning, a string of blue plastic beads on one arm. They seldom smiled so much, and for good reason- but Monday, they were glowing, holding out their wrist, and telling anyone who would listen about the gift their "best friend" had given them. It was an enthralling sight.

Deuce Spade, the poor, sweet boy, had become patient zero.

Word travels faster at Night Raven College when it's about the Prefect.

Deuce Spade had claimed title of best friend with a string and sixteen translucent plastic beads, something that made Ace Trappola itch. He didn't care! He didn't! Of course, he stayed up all night, trying and failing and trying again, to tie the tiny knot on a black-and-red beaded bracelet. But that didn't mean he cared!

It's on your arm, right above Deuce's, on Tuesday.

"Thank you, Ace!" you had smiled, announcing it to the entire unbirthday party. "You really are my best friend!"

Ace looked over his shoulder to smugly grin at his dormmates. "Aww, this old thing? It's nothing, just thought your wrist looked a little lonely with only one,"

It was a rather strange sight: the housewarden of Heartslabyul, his scepter and crown set to the side, his back hunched as he strung black, red, and gold beads over his desk that night. Riddle Rosehearts marched over to you first thing in the morning, set his bracelet in your waiting palm, and marched away, his face redder than his hair.

Trey Clover had forgotten all about homework, promising Deuce two week's worth of dish duty in exchange for beads and string. Forest green and black. He was too shy to give it to you himself, and left it at your doorstep in a basket of tea leaves and leftover tart. It smells of vanilla.

Cater Diamond made sure to snap a pic of his bracelet on your arm, black, red, and orange beads, with his and your initials right next to each other. "#BFFs #besties"

His Magicam story was viewed over 6,000 times.

...Mostly by the same people, over and over.

Ruggie Bucchi had a different take on the situation. See, he didn't have the kinda cash to spend on beads and string and fancy charms, and so you wore a striking dandelion crown to your classes on Thursday morning.

Jack Howl braided you a simple, brown-stringed band to wear on your wrist or ankle or wherever you liked it. You had told him you loved it, rumor said.

Then, all came to a halt.

Word spread that Leona Kingscholar had tried gifting you an expensive, golden-beaded bracelet from his home, (one that would haven taken up half your forearm), and you had refused it. You couldn't possibly accept such a nice gift, you said.

You would, as it seemed, only accept handmade friendship bracelets.

Kalim al-Asim kept Jamil Viper up all night, weaving and unweaving, beading and unbeading, doing and redoing and redoing again, until he had perfected your friendship bracelet in all colors of the rainbow. Little did he know that Jamil had already given you one that afternoon. It smelled of spices, giving away the fact that he had made it in between cooking meals.

Azul Ashengrotto told his staff he was taking a morning off to study, went to the beach, and collected shells in every shape and color. He strung them on black fishing line, and smiled as he gave them to you, free of charge. "Just something to remember me by when I'm away," he said, his face redder than it felt.

Floyd Leech had started one, but became bored of the tedious beading after ten minutes and decided to dedicate his next basketball win to you instead. Jade Leech finished it, and, while his brother was distracted, lined the teal-and-black striped beads with mushroom-shaped charms.

Vil Schoenheit never half-asses anything, friendship bracelet or not. He would do most anything to hear those sweet words of thanks on your lips (not that he'd admit it), even if that means taking hours out of his busy schedule to dye white yarn in wine and weave it with his gilded initials and red, bejeweled hearts. He likes seeing himself on you.

Rook Hunt, ever the nonconformist, fashions you a necklace out of broken bow strings and an arrowhead from his favorite quiver. He puts it on you himself, his fingers brushing against your throat and lingering on the back of your neck for a moment too long, as if enjoying the feeling of your heartbeat.

But Epel Felmier outdoes them all.

For on Friday morning, you come to class with a bracelet of lavender-painted wooden beads, his initials carved into the soft oak, and he comes in wearing the same bracelet, but with yours.

How had no one thought to make a matching one for themselves???

Idia Shroud 3D prints a bracelet in your favorite color, and Ortho Shroud engraves the flat surface with your favorite characters... they make two more for themselves, as if in a sort of secret club. It gives Idia quite the thrill to think about, though he'd never say it.

Sebek Zigvolt hmphs at the idea of showing such loyalty to a mere human, until Silver and Lilia Vanrouge return from an early morning stroll with baskets of acorns, flowers, and pine nuts for bracelet-making. Sebek and Silver both make theirs in earthy wooden tones and shimmering shades of rose and violet. Lilia sneaks in a few animal teeth and bone fragments. For good luck.

Malleus Draconia, tedious as it is, spends his Sunday morning spinning his own string, and lining it with beads, tiny in his hands, and small pieces of smooth glass and stone from Ramshackle. He gifts it to you with a blessing, a promise of your eternal friendship, in this world and the next.

By the end of the week, your arms are heavy with beads, shells, stone, nuts, flowers, and charms, covered from wrist to elbow. You can't move without sounding like a wind chime, jingling and clinking with each step.

Your friends eagerly await your praises, not-so-subtly asking which bracelet is your favorite, or, frankly, who is your best friend?

You promise an answer soon.

Thus, on Monday morning, you arrive with only one bracelet.

Sloppily made, in soft blues and grays, with the cut-out logo of a tuna can label stuck to your wrist, and a smiling Grim holding the hand beneath it.

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luxthestrange · 2 days ago

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TWST Incorrect quotes#732 LILIA!?!-

Yuu*Feeding baby Sebek, while Lilia is cleaning baby Silver's diaper with an infatuated gaze*Your dad is amazing~

Mal(7)*Looking up from his gargoyle book*I thought you hated him...

Yuu*Eyes widen and looks at him in worry*What?-Oh sweetie no!, Why would you say that?

Mal(7): When you came home from work, I heard you and Lilia in the bedroom...

You came home last week, Lilia came to greet you once he put the boys to sleep...picked up, threw you into the bedroom and then dived in, closing the door

Mal(7):...And you wouldn't stop yelling at him

Yuu*Horrified face dawned on you as you blush at the memory*...

Lilia*Also horrified and continues to clean silver*...

Yuu*Coughs into fist and pats the young dragon's head* A-ah no sweetie those...T-those were happy screams!~

Mal(7)*Tilting head innocently* It didn't sound very happy to me, and you would hit the wall, and you said a lot of bad words. Lilia says when he is playing in the magic box...

Yuu*Slowly turns head with death glare at Lilia, Unimpressed seeing him flee with a giggling cleaned silver in his arms*...

Lilia*Dunks the dirty diaper on the trash and flees with sweat dropping on every pore of his body*"SHIT-"

Yuu: Y-yeah, To be honest, I...I don't remember doing that, I don't at all-

Mal(7)*Stands up on the sofa and thinking you actually forgot* You did! You said "OH LILIA BLEEP BLEEP BLEEEP!?" You said it like that! "OH BLEEP!?BLEEEEEEP"

Yuu*The hand holding sebek bottle drops and covers malleus mouth*OK!?-OK!?-i g-got it!?-

Baby!Sebek*Sees his bottle is down and can't drink his milkie, tears up sensing panic*B-bueweh?-....WAAAAAAH!?!-

Yuu*Panics and goes to lift Sebek's bottle and cradle him back and forth in arms*O-oh shhh shhh~

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

Other Parts: Housewardens; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo

Trey Clover

The argument wasn’t a loud one—no shouting, no slamming doors—just tense words exchanged with too much weight behind them. Trey’s voice had been steady, but his usual patience was stretched thin.

You, equally frustrated, had decided that the best course of action was to remove yourself before either of you said something you’d regret.

So, with a sigh, you grabbed a blanket and made your way to the couch, settling in with your back turned toward the bedroom.

Trey let out a heavy exhale behind you, but he didn’t stop you.

You shifted, adjusting the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep. It didn’t work. The room was too quiet, too heavy with the remnants of unspoken words. You half-expected Trey to leave you there and go to bed, but then—soft footsteps. A rustle of fabric.

Kneeling beside the couch, Trey placed a hand on the cushion near your arm. His voice was quiet, steady in a way that made something in your chest ache.

“Come back to bed.”

You closed your eyes. “Not yet.”

A pause. Then, a soft sigh. Trey stood. For a moment, you thought he was giving up, finally going to bed without you. The thought left an unexpected hollowness in your chest.

But then, after a few minutes, he returned. You smelled the milk before you saw it—the faint scent of vanilla and honey curling through the air. When you cracked an eye open, there he was, sitting on the floor near the couch, a mug in his hands. He held it out to you.

“Here,” he said. “I know you have trouble sleeping when you’re upset.”

You blinked at him, heart squeezing against your ribs. “Trey…”

He didn’t push, didn’t insist. He just waited, his eyes gentle, patient in the way only he could be.

And just like that, your frustration melted. You took the mug, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. Trey didn’t move, just watched you with that quiet steadiness. Then, softly, he asked again,

“Come back to bed?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate.

You set the mug aside and sat up, only for Trey to immediately wrap his arms around you. His hold was firm, grounding. He buried his face in your shoulder and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him just as tightly. “I’m sorry too.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment, staying there in the quiet. Eventually, Trey pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon,” he said, voice low, warm. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And this time, when he led you back to bed, you followed without hesitation.

Ruggie Bucchi

The couch wasn’t comfortable. You knew it, and Ruggie knew it. But right now, your stubbornness outweighed your need for a good night’s sleep. You yanked the blanket over yourself, muttering under your breath as you tried to arrange the cushions into something remotely acceptable.

Across the room, Ruggie watched you with wide, calculating eyes. He hadn’t said anything since you stormed off, but you could feel him thinking. And then—

“You remember when you ate my last donut?” he started, voice small.

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “…What?”

“My last donut. You ate it, and you said—” He changed his voice in a mocking impression of you. “‘I owe you one, Ruggie, I swear. Anything you want.’”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Oh my —”

“But it’s fine,” he continued, so dramatically forlorn you almost threw the pillow at him. “I guess I’ll just be all alone in that big, cold bed. No warmth. No love. Just me. Shivering.”

You lifted your head, ready to tell him off, but then—oh, no.

He hit you with the look.

Ears drooping. Tail flicking. Wide, guilt-inducing eyes that shimmered just enough to make your resolve crack.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your head back down. “You’re the worst.”

He didn’t respond. Just fidgeted. Shuffled his feet like he was actually nervous you’d say no.

And that? That got you.

With a groan of defeat, you sighed and opened your arms. That was all he needed. Ruggie practically launched himself onto the couch, slotting himself beside you in a space absolutely not designed for two people. His weight pressed against you, his tail flicking lazily as he tucked his head under your chin.

“…Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your shirt.

“Shut up.”

His arms tightened around you. A quiet beat passed, then—

“Sorry.”

Your hand found its way into his hair, carding through the strands. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Ruggie hummed, content. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, sleep found you too.

Jade Leech

The couch was lumpy. Or maybe you were just too angry to get comfortable. Either way, you buried your face into the pillow, inhaling deeply through your nose to keep yourself from snapping again. You just needed some space. Needed to not be in the same room as Jade and his infuriating, calmly amused expression.

“I can’t be around you right now,” you had told him before marching off, voice tight with frustration. And for once, he didn’t push. Didn’t smirk or throw another veiled comment your way. He simply inclined his head, watching as you all but collapsed onto the couch.

Now, wrapped in a too-thin blanket, you willed yourself to sleep. You were almost there—drifting, fading—when fingers ghosted over your hair.

Your breath caught, but you kept still.

Soft strokes. Careful, reverent, as if he thought you might break. It was so unlike him, so gentle, that you almost cracked your eyes open to confirm it was really happening. Then—

“…I’m so sorry.”

The whisper was barely there. But it wasn’t the words that made your heart lurch—it was the way his voice shook.

Jade Leech, ever unflappable, sounded unsteady.

He pulled back, and you knew he was about to leave. That should have been fine. You should have let him go.

But your bleeding heart had other plans.

Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could slip away.

He barely had time to react before you yanked him back—maybe a little too hard, because the next thing you knew, he was crashing onto the couch with you. A rare, wide-eyed look of surprise flashed across his face, so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it.

And then you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Jade froze.

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “We can talk in the morning.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slow and deliberate, he dipped down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“…Very well,” he whispered.

His weight settled beside you, and this time, when you drifted off, it was to the sound of his steady breathing, warm and close beside you.

The couch standoff had been going on for way too long.

“I’m sleeping here,” you declared, arms crossed as you planted yourself firmly onto the cushions.

“No, you’re not,” Jamil shot back, equally stubborn. “I am.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not taking the bed while you sleep out here.”

“And I’m not letting you sleep out here while I take the bed.” His arms were crossed now too, mirroring your posture, his sharp gaze unwavering.

For a moment, the tension held. Then, something about the sheer ridiculousness of it all hit you—both of you too annoyed to back down but too caring to let the other suffer the discomfort of the couch.

A laugh bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it. You covered your mouth, but the moment you let out even the smallest chuckle, Jamil’s eyes flickered with reluctant amusement. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

“This is stupid,” you admitted between giggles.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. It is.”

You grinned. “Bed?”

Jamil didn’t hesitate. “Bed.”

The moment you both settled under the blankets, the last traces of tension melted away. His arms instinctively curled around you, pulling you close, and you let yourself relax into his warmth.

“Sorry,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

His grip tightened, lips brushing against your hair. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the way he held you just a little closer said enough.

Rook arguing with you was already unexpected. That he let you march off to the couch without a poetic declaration or dramatic plea? Unheard of.

You cocooned yourself in the blanket, stubbornly facing the back of the couch. The silence felt unnatural—too quiet for someone like Rook. A part of you expected him to suddenly recite a Shakespearean sonnet about lovers quarreling.

Instead, something even more ridiculous happened.

You shifted slightly, just enough to glance toward the floor—and there he was.

Laying down right beside the couch on a thin blanket, arms crossed behind his head as though he had chosen the most luxurious sleeping arrangement in the world. His golden hair fanned out on the hardwood floor, and despite the clear insanity of the situation, he looked perfectly content.

You stared. Blinked. ��Rook.”

“Oui, mon amour?”

“You’re on the floor.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Then I shall suffer beautifully, just as you do now, exiled from the comfort of our bed.” His eyes twinkled, completely unrepentant. “If my beloved must endure the cruel fate of sleeping alone, then I shall share in their hardship.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples. “Rook, go to bed.”

“I am in bed.”

“No, you’re on the floor, being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Ah, ma chérie, I am simply a devoted man.”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. It was impossible to stay mad when he was like this. Ridiculous. Completely, helplessly devoted.

Sighing, you reached out and flicked his forehead. He gasped theatrically, touching the spot as though you had struck him with Cupid’s arrow. Before he could say something absurd, you leaned down and kissed the spot gently.

“Come to bed, you idiot.”

His eyes widened slightly before his lips stretched into a dazzling smile. Without hesitation, he stood—and then immediately scooped you into his arms.

“Rook—?!?”

“Ah, mon amour, such sweet mercy! Allow me to carry you away from this exile!” He spun dramatically, pressing an exaggerated kiss to your forehead before striding toward the bedroom.

You should have expected nothing less.

You sighed against his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you adore me.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

Lilia Vanrouge

You had firmly decided that you weren’t going to sleep in the same bed as Lilia tonight.

You needed space. You needed time to cool off. You needed—

Blink.

One second, you were wrapped in your blanket on the couch. The next? You were in bed.

You shot up, heart pounding. Lilia stood at the bedside, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Lilia.” Your voice was dangerously even.

“Yes, my dear?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you teleport me?”

A smug smile. “Would you rather I carried you?”

Oh, you were about to start another argument—

But then you noticed something. In his hands: a pillow and his own blanket.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

Lilia hummed, casual as anything. “If my beloved insists on sleeping elsewhere, then I shall take the couch in their place. I have endured far worse in my lifetime—” his eyes twinkled mischievously “—but I’d hate for you to wake up with an aching back.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the mattress. “That’s so unfair.”

“To be this thoughtful and charming? I know.”

You shot him a look, but he simply smiled. You hated how sweet he could be even when you were still irritated.

With an exasperated sigh, you sat up and grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward you. He followed easily, his blanket forgotten as he slipped into bed. Without hesitation, he wrapped himself around you, chin resting atop your head.

His voice softened. “I’m sorry, dear.”

You exhaled, tension leaving your body as you relaxed into his hold. “…I’m sorry too.”

His lips brushed against your temple, and with that, the night’s quarrel was put to rest.

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