#this is currently about jamil but it always happens

[greenapplebling]

Me: I love my blorbo sm

Friend: Yes I know

Me, who talks about blorbo 24/7: but do you?? DO YOU??

[solxamber]

Mission: Emotionally Compromised || Jamil Viper

Jamil’s greatest failure as a spy? Falling head over heels for the person he was meant to destroy.

this one is for @chocolatebearstrawberry who made the divider i use here!! i love you <3

As the CEO of one of the most powerful tech companies in the world, you’ve always prided yourself on two things: your razor-sharp business acumen and your ability to sniff out deception from a mile away.

Your competitors, on the other hand, have prided themselves on one thing: trying (and failing) to steal your technology.

For years, you’ve played a high-stakes game of corporate cat and mouse, batting away industrial spies like a bored housecat knocking expensive wine glasses off the counter. You’ve watched billion-dollar corporations sink millions into elaborate heists, only for their agents to fail spectacularly. Frankly, it's getting a little embarrassing for them.

But now, thanks to the untimely departure of your longtime secretary (who swears their early retirement has nothing to do with being bribed into luxury exile), you suddenly have a vacancy.

And judging by the pile of applicants currently waiting in the lobby, every single one of them is a spy.

The Parade of Intelligence Failures™:

First up is Agent Steve (probably not his real name), whose résumé is written in Comic Sans and lists "lockpicking" under "special skills." When you ask him about his previous administrative experience, he stares at you blankly for three full seconds before blurting out, "I can type… very fast?"

Next is Ms. Definitely-Not-Wearing-a-Wire, who keeps touching her ear like she’s communicating with someone. Midway through the interview, you distinctly hear a whisper from her earpiece: "Ask about the security systems."

Then there’s Tech Bro #5, who brings a USB drive and, while maintaining full eye contact with you, tries to plug it into your computer. Your computer. The one sitting on your desk. Right in front of you.

By the time Mr. Fake-ID Falls Out of His Wallet stumbles in, you’re fighting the overwhelming urge to launch yourself out the nearest window.

This is getting pathetic.

You’ve sat through twenty interviews of barely competent corporate espionage, and you’re ready to set up a PowerPoint presentation titled, "How To Spy Without Immediately Getting Caught: A Workshop For Morons."

Do they think you built a billion-dollar empire by being stupid? Do they think your years of fending off corporate espionage haven’t honed your bullshit detector into a finely tuned death laser?

You start debating whether to just hire a golden retriever and call it a day—at least dogs have loyalty.

And then he walks in.

Enter: Jamil Viper.

The moment he steps into your office, you know this one is different.

For one thing, his résumé isn’t riddled with typos or hilariously obvious red flags. His credentials? Flawless. His demeanor? Polished and professional, with just the right amount of charm—not so much that it feels like he’s trying to butter you up, but just enough that you actually want to keep talking to him.

And his entrance exam? He aces it. Perfectly.

Too perfectly.

There is no way in hell that someone this competent just happens to be looking for a secretary position. You know he’s a spy.

But unlike the human disasters before him, Jamil Viper is actually good at his job.

And if someone is going to try and infiltrate your company, wouldn’t you rather it be someone who at least has the decency to be competent about it?

You lean back in your chair, watching him carefully as he sits across from you, his expression unreadable. You wonder how many layers of deception he’s hiding behind that composed facade.

Slowly, a smile creeps onto your lips.

This could be fun.

Because if Jamil Viper thinks he’s going to outmaneuver you, then clearly, no one has warned him that you love playing with fire.

You slide the contract across the desk, extending your hand.

"Congratulations, Mr. Viper," you say, amusement dancing in your voice. "Welcome to the company."

His fingers are warm when they clasp yours in a firm shake. His gaze, sharp and assessing, lingers for just a second too long.

And just like that, you hire a spy to be your personal assistant.

This is either the smartest or the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.

And honestly? You can’t wait to find out which.

Jamil has never questioned his assignments before. His role has always been straightforward—he is given a task, he completes it with precision, and he collects his payment. There is no room for personal involvement, no need for unnecessary complications.

This particular job should have been no different. His directive was clear: infiltrate one of the most formidable tech companies in the industry, assume the role of a secretary, gain the CEO’s trust, retrieve the necessary proprietary data, and exit without raising suspicion.

A simple, methodical process. He estimated it would take no more than a month, perhaps two if the CEO proved particularly cautious.

However, the moment he steps into your office, Jamil recognizes that this assignment will not proceed according to the standard operational model.

You are perceptive. That much is clear from the outset. Your interview questions are sharp, carefully constructed to gauge more than just his administrative skills. You are watching him—not just listening, but studying, assessing. There is a calculating glint in your eyes that suggests you have already categorized him in some way, and he does not yet know whether that categorization is in his favor.

Then comes the moment that shifts the trajectory of his expectations entirely.

You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled as you regard him with an almost amused expression. "So, Mr. Viper," you say, voice laced with something close to mischief, "are you a spy?"

The question is absurd in its directness, yet the casual way you pose it makes it clear that you are not expecting a confession—you are testing him. A lesser operative might have faltered, might have hesitated for the fraction of a second that would betray uncertainty. Jamil, however, meets your gaze evenly, offering a measured smile.

"If I were," he replies smoothly, "would I admit it?"

You laugh—not a dismissive scoff, but an actual, entertained laugh, as if you are thoroughly enjoying this game. And that is what makes Jamil's stomach twist slightly. Because he is beginning to suspect that you already know.

The contract slides across the desk, a silent challenge. He watches as you extend your hand, the motion deliberate, expectant.

He has been in the industry long enough to recognize a trap when he sees one. And yet, despite every internal alarm warning him to be cautious, he shakes your hand.

He has taken on countless assignments in his career, but this time is different.

This time, he is not just infiltrating a company. He is stepping into a game.

And for the first time in his life, Jamil wonders if he is the one being played.

Jamil Viper is, quite frankly, the best thing that has ever happened to you.

You have run this company for years, clawed your way to the top with sheer wit and willpower, and in all that time, you have never known peace. Your life has been a never-ending cycle of fires to put out, idiotic employees making mistakes, and backstabbing business partners who think “compromise” means “stealing your ideas and pretending it was a collaborative effort.”

But then Jamil arrives.

Jamil, with his quiet efficiency and terrifying competence. Jamil, who doesn’t ask you to repeat yourself because he actually listens the first time. Jamil, who doesn’t need reminders because he remembers everything, down to how you like your coffee and which pens mysteriously go missing when your CFO visits.

For the first time in your career, you are leaving work at a reasonable hour.

You actually saw the sunset yesterday. The sunset. Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve seen anything but the dim glow of your office lights at midnight? You don’t. You’re afraid to check.

Your skin? Clear.

Your inbox? Organized.

Your sleep schedule? Still questionable, but at least now it’s due to personal choices and not business emergencies.

You are so overcome with gratitude that you nearly burst into tears when you realize you no longer have to threaten your vendors personally because Jamil handles it all with a few well-placed emails.

He is better than any assistant you have ever had. Possibly better than some of your business partners. Hell, at this rate, you wouldn't be surprised if he could run the company better than you.

Which is exactly why you can’t afford to let him go.

You know why he’s here. You are not naïve. He is undoubtedly a spy, sent to steal your technology, your secrets, your life's work. But the problem is that he is too good. You cannot afford to lose him.

So, you make a decision.

You will convert him to your side.

It’s not just about protecting your company anymore. No, this has become personal. Jamil Viper is yours now. He just doesn’t know it yet.

The numbers didn’t make sense.

You were good at numbers. Numbers were the only thing in this world that didn’t lie. Numbers were solid, unyielding, completely immune to human deception. And yet.

Your CFO had to be skimming. You’d suspected it for a while—no one bought that many first-class flights for “business conferences” that didn’t exist—but now that you finally had the time to actually dig into the company’s finances, you could feel it in your bones. There was money missing. Not a lot at once, just enough that a lazier CEO wouldn’t notice.

But you noticed. And now, sitting in your dark office, practically feral with frustration, you were going to find it.

Jamil peeks into your office, and you see his brows furrow in irritation. He steps inside without invitation, eyes flicking to your desk, to the stacks of papers, to you, hunched over and pulling at your hair like a mad scientist on the brink of discovery.

“…Why are you still here?” His voice is level, but you detect the judgment beneath it. “I made sure your schedule was clear. You should have been home by five.”

You make a vague, distressed sound—somewhere between a whimper and the dying gasp of an overworked CEO. “I have a mouse to hunt,” you say, still frantically flipping through documents. “A very cunning mouse.”

Jamil, to his credit, does not roll his eyes. He does, however, step forward and pluck the file from your grasp before you can protest. His sharp eyes scan the pages, his fingers flipping through them with practiced ease.

You watch as his expression shifts into something thoughtful, his lips pursing slightly, his brows furrowing in deep concentration. You can see his mind working.

Jamil is infuriatingly intelligent. He always has been. You knew it the moment he walked into your office for his interview and answered every question with precision so perfect it was almost suspicious.

But this—this is something else. His eyes flick from one line to another, scanning, calculating, searching.

And then it hits you.

His hair.

His stupidly perfect, annoyingly silky, meticulously styled hair.

The way it’s always just slightly different every day. Some days it’s neater, tied back with care. Some days it’s looser, like he didn’t have time to properly tame it. Some days it’s so perfect it looks effortless, which means it probably took him ages to get it like that.

Your brain connects the dots.

Your CFO’s expenses had fluctuations that made no sense at first glance. But what if—what if the embezzlement wasn’t consistent? What if he only siphoned money on certain days—days when he needed to make the numbers look normal, like a fluctuation in operational costs?

Like how Jamil’s hair was slightly different depending on how rushed he was in the morning.

Your eyes widen. You grab Jamil’s arm.

“It’s the payroll processing days,” you say, the revelation clicking together. “The numbers don’t match on payroll weeks because he’s hiding them within the irregular adjustments! He’s only stealing when payroll is being processed because that’s when the accounts fluctuate naturally.”

Jamil blinks, then looks back at the files, and you see it—the exact moment he finds the irregularity, the way his eyes sharpen, the way the corner of his lips twitch in mild irritation.

“…Huh,” he says, flipping back to double-check.

You beam at him. “Jamil, I could kiss you.”

He does not react, but his ears turn slightly red. He hands the file back. “Don’t. Just fire your CFO.”

“Oh, I will.” You grin, stretching your arms behind your head. “And then I’m going to have so much fun ruining his career.”

Jamil gives you a look. You pretend not to see it.

Jamil has worked for a lot of powerful people before. He’s seen how they act—detached, ruthless, calculating. People who don’t say thank you unless there’s an audience, people who treat loyalty as a transaction rather than a virtue, people who see their employees as numbers on a spreadsheet rather than human beings.

And then there’s you.

You, who smile at every single employee as if they’re the most interesting person in the world.

You, who face betrayals with an easy grin, as if it’s just another puzzle to solve.

You, who refuse to be jaded, as if the sheer weight of your responsibilities isn’t trying to crush you every single day.

Jamil has worked as a secretary before, long enough to know that this is not normal. It’s not normal for a CEO to approve leave requests without question, to cover all medical expenses without a fight, to sit down at the employee cafeteria and listen to people’s grievances like a normal person.

It’s definitely not normal for you to turn to him at the end of a long, grueling day—after uncovering a massive embezzlement scandal in your own company—and say, “Let’s get dinner. My treat.”

Jamil expects a high-end restaurant. The kind of place where the portions are offensively small, the food is questionably pretentious, and the bill alone could sustain an entire household for a month. The kind of place where people like you—people with power, people with money—go to flaunt their superiority.

Instead, you take him to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant run by an elderly couple who clearly know you on a first-name basis.

“Ah, welcome back!” the old woman greets you warmly, eyes flicking to Jamil with curiosity. “And who’s this? A date?”

Jamil chokes on air.

You laugh—loudly—and wave off the comment. “Nah, just my secretary! He helped me catch a mouse today.”

Jamil doesn’t bother correcting you.

The menu is scrawled in barely legible handwriting on a whiteboard near the counter. You order the greasiest, most artery-clogging meal he’s ever seen in his life. Jamil orders something safer, something that won’t take five years off his lifespan.

When the food arrives, you practically vibrate in your seat, taking a bite with the enthusiasm of a child eating their first piece of candy.

Jamil stares at you in mild horror. “You eat this every day?”

You grin, already halfway through your meal. “Yeah.”

Jamil doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But he eats. He eats, and he listens to you ramble about ridiculous workplace rumors, and he watches you laugh so hard you snort when you make a terrible joke.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, Jamil finds himself laughing too.

Not because your joke is funny—because it isn’t. It’s awful, actually.

But maybe because your eyes shine too brightly in the dim light.

Maybe because you seem so human right now, so painfully, vividly human.

Maybe because he knows he’ll have to leave you behind soon, and yet here he is, eating unhealthy food and smiling at you.

Jamil has never questioned his jobs before. He gets paid, he gets the work done. Simple.

So why does it feel so different this time?

Jamil has worked for some eccentric people before. Billionaires with more money than sense, CEOs who thought meditation on top of a glass skyscraper would give them divine insight, a director who once insisted that his morning coffee had to be stirred exactly 72 times counterclockwise or the stock market would crash. He’s seen it all. Or so he thought.

And then there was you.

You were a genius, of course. No one could deny that. You had single-handedly revolutionized an entire industry and kept your technology locked down so tightly that even the best corporate spies had walked away empty-handed.

But you were also—how to put this nicely?—completely, utterly unhinged. Eccentric was too mild a word. You were like a mad scientist and a particularly stubborn golden retriever had been fused together in a tragic yet strangely effective laboratory accident.

Jamil has had a front-row seat to your absurdity for months now, but today? Today takes the cake.

He enters the office expecting chaos, but he still isn't prepared to see a bouncy castle taking up the center of the room. It is massive. Garish. A primary-colored monstrosity that clashes violently with the sleek, modern aesthetic of your office. It is also, for some reason, fully inflated.

Jamil watches as you bounce in deep concentration, your tie undone, your shoes discarded somewhere in the corner. Your movements are precise, like each jump is a carefully calibrated equation.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dare I ask?”

You pause mid-bounce, floating for a second in the air like some kind of enlightened acrobat before landing gracefully and turning to him with a grin. “I needed to think.”

“…So naturally, you brought a bouncy castle.”

“Of course.” You wave a hand, as if this should be obvious. “Sometimes, when my brain gets stuck, I just need a little kinetic stimulation. You know, shake up the neurons.” You jump again, flailing slightly before catching yourself. “It’s like—have you ever had a word on the tip of your tongue, and then you do something completely different and suddenly it comes to you? Same concept. Except instead of drinking water or taking a walk, I jump on an inflatable castle like a responsible adult.”

Jamil stares. His headache is already forming. “You’re going to break your neck.”

“Nope! Tested the weight limits. We’re good.” You bounce again, then stop abruptly, eyes widening. Your entire posture shifts, shoulders straightening, expression sharpening. You scramble off the castle, grab a nearby notebook, and start writing furiously.

Jamil watches, baffled, as you tear through an entire page with equations and diagrams, the kind of thing that would take a normal person weeks to conceptualize. And then you stop, beaming like a kid who just cracked open a piñata full of gold.

“I GOT IT,” you declare, spinning the notebook around as if Jamil has the clearance—or the desire—to understand whatever ridiculous breakthrough you just had. “This is going to make everything ten times more efficient! Jamil, this is genius.”

Jamil, who has not slept properly in three days because of this mission, who has already accepted that this job is going to either kill him or make him reconsider every life decision he has ever made, just sighs. “Great. So was the bouncy castle necessary?”

You turn back to him, eyes bright, smile wider than he’s ever seen. “Absolutely.”

And the worst part? The part that truly makes him question if he’s losing his mind?

He almost believes you.

Meetings like this made you wonder if you could get away with legally replacing the entire board with three possums in a trench coat. These relics in overpriced suits had two working brain cells between them, and one was currently occupied with nursing last night’s hangover.

They thought that their decades of mismanaging money somehow gave them wisdom. You would almost find it impressive, the way they clung to their illusion of relevance, if it weren’t so unbearably tedious.

You could fire them all, of course. You could clear this room in five minutes, clean house with a snap of your fingers, but you had held back out of sheer pity. They were close to retirement—one foot in the grave and the other on a luxury cruise.

Let them ride out their last few years clutching their outdated business strategies and egos. It wasn’t like they actually did anything.

But today? Today, you were at your limit.

Jamil was standing behind you, stone-faced, but you could tell he wanted to be anywhere else. His exhaustion mirrored your own. You’d been sitting here for an hour while they droned on about numbers they clearly didn’t understand.

Internally, you begged for something—anything—to spontaneously combust just so you’d have an excuse to leave. A small fire? A sudden, mysterious blackout? A divine intervention from the heavens themselves?

And then, as if the universe had heard you and decided to throw you a different kind of entertainment, one of them made a mistake. A grave mistake.

“—not that it matters to someone like you,” one of the old fossils sneered, voice soaked in condescension. “You just sit there and look pretty. Maybe that’s why you keep your secretary around—eye candy to brighten your day, hm?”

Silence.

Jamil felt the shift before he saw it. The room, which had been filled with the usual underhanded comments and the shuffling of papers, went utterly still. The air thickened, tension snapping tight like a bowstring.

You moved, slow and deliberate, sitting up from your languid position and resting your elbows on the table. Then, with a sharp crack that echoed through the room, you slammed your hand against the polished wood. Jamil was pretty sure he saw the surface splinter.

And then, you smiled.

“Say,” you said, your voice honey-sweet, “how’s your son’s wedding prep going?”

The man blinked, startled by the sudden shift in topic. “Uh—fine?”

“That’s wonderful.” You laced your fingers together, tilting your head like a benevolent ruler addressing a particularly stupid peasant. “I hope he has a strong savings account. And you, too, for that matter.”

His confusion deepened. “Why would—?”

“Because as of right now, every single one of you is fired.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

You stood, straightening your sleeves, your expression as calm as if you’d just commented on the weather. The rest of the board gaped at you, struggling to process what had just happened.

“Pack your things,” you continued, tone still sickeningly pleasant. “Security will escort you out. Your pensions will remain untouched—I’m not a monster—but your presence is no longer required. Effective immediately.”

Then, without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and strolled out of the room.

Jamil took a moment to savor the stunned expressions, the way the old man who had made the comment looked like he was trying to compute his own downfall in real time. He had seen you be cunning, eccentric, absurd, even, but this was the first time he had seen you wield your power properly. It was—

Well.

He wasn’t about to admit it was impressive.

Or flattering.

Not even as he followed you out the door, suppressing the smallest, most insufferable urge to smile.

You’re good at reading people. That’s what makes you such a good CEO. You can tell when a business partner is about to backstab you. You can spot a bad deal from a mile away. You figured out your CFO was embezzling money based on a hunch and a particularly sleepless night.

So why the hell can’t you figure out what’s going on with Jamil right now?

Your day is over. Your work is done. You’re walking out of the building, feeling suspiciously well-rested for once, because Jamil is the best damn secretary you’ve ever had.

And there he is.

Standing near the exit, very much still here, despite having clocked out hours ago.

You stop. Blink. “Jamil? What are you doing here?”

He startles like you caught him committing a felony.

Which, honestly, makes you even more confused.

Jamil is the picture of composure in any situation. He could talk his way out of a hostage negotiation, probably. He could charm a boardroom full of old, corporate sharks into agreeing with his terms.

And yet, right now, he looks like he wants to evaporate.

You tilt your head. “What’s up? You good?”

Jamil scowls like you’ve offended his ancestors. And then, without meeting your gaze, he thrusts a box at you.

"Eat properly," he grumbles. "Heaven knows you can afford it."

And then he turns on his heel and almost sprints out of the building.

You stare at his retreating figure. Then you stare at the box in your hands.

What just happened.

You consider yourself a genius. You built an empire with your own two hands. You have patents worth billions. You have business rivals who would kill to know what goes on in your head.

And yet, this one interaction has you completely, utterly lost.

It’s only when you get home that you actually open the box.

Inside is a clearly homemade meal. Balanced, nutritious, and suspiciously catered to your exact tastes.

You crouch down. Laugh a little.

And then you pull out your phone.

You: thank you <3

Meanwhile, In Jamil’s car:

He hears the message notification. Opens it. Sees your text.

And immediately slams his forehead into the steering wheel.

The honk that follows is so obnoxiously loud that a street cat outside lets out an ungodly scream and scrambles away like it just witnessed a murder.

Jamil exhales sharply. He grips the wheel like it personally wronged him.

You’re going to be the death of him.

Jamil does not get sick.

It is a fact as ironclad as his ability to keep a secret, as certain as the sun rising in the east and setting behind your ridiculous office where you concoct new ways to stress him out.

Jamil does not get sick because sickness is a weakness—an opening in his otherwise airtight, bulletproof existence.

And yet.

Here he is.

Dying. Absolutely, irredeemably, spectacularly dying.

His body betrays him completely, weighed down by a fever that could probably fry an egg on his forehead. Every muscle aches as if he has been tossed into a meat grinder, his throat is raw, and his head is a battlefield of pain and regret.

He barely manages to lift his phone and call you, the only person who needs to know why he’s breaking protocol and skipping work for the first time in his entire life.

The phone rings. Once. Twice.

And then—

“Jamil! What’s up?”

Too loud. Why are you always so loud? He winces, nearly drops his phone on his face.

“I… I can’t come in today.” His voice is hoarse, unrecognizable. Disgusting. He clears his throat, which only makes it worse. “I’m sick.”

There is a long, stunned silence.

Then, very, very slowly—

“You’re what?”

Jamil closes his eyes. He does not have the strength for this conversation.

“Sick,” he repeats, barely suppressing the urge to just fade out of existence right then and there.

Another pause. Then, in a tone that is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it coming from you—

“…Oh.”

Something about the way you say it makes his stomach twist—though that could also be the fever.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” you say, genuinely concerned. “Rest, drink water, and if you need anything—”

He does not hear the rest.

Because he blacks out.

Jamil is sick.

Jamil, your unshakable, hyper-competent, borderline immortal assistant—the man who somehow pulls miracles out of thin air while looking vaguely unimpressed—is sick.

You expected betrayals, corporate espionage, elaborate counter-strategies in your ongoing war to get him on your side.

You did not expect this.

And worse—he sounded awful.

Not just tired. Not just mildly inconvenienced.

You sit at your desk for approximately three minutes, trying to convince yourself that it’s fine, that Jamil is a grown man who can take care of himself.

Then you Google “how to care for a sick employee” and make the deeply logical decision to immediately drop everything and go check on him yourself.

Which is how you end up outside his apartment, ringing the doorbell like a maniac.

There is no response.

You ring again. And again.

Nothing.

A small, horrible thought creeps in. What if he passed out? What if he hit his head? What if he—

Just as you're about to kick down the door in a move that would absolutely get you arrested, it creaks open.

And Jamil is standing there.

Barely.

He looks terrible.

His usual sharp, careful composure? Gone. His hair is an absolute wreck, his eyes are dazed, and his entire body is actively betraying him by swaying on his feet like a tragic willow in a storm.

You are horrified.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, stepping forward before he can literally collapse. “Jamil, you look—”

Like death. Like the very concept of suffering incarnate.

But you do not say this out loud, because you are a good person.

Instead, you step into his space and grab him before he keels over.

“You’re burning up,” you mutter, steadying him. “When was the last time you ate?”

Jamil blinks at you very slowly, like his brain is buffering at dial-up speeds.

“…Food?”

That is not an answer.

You curse under your breath and haul him back inside, which is a feat of great strength because he is all lean muscle and fever deadweight.

How did this happen? Why did this happen? Who let this happen?

Oh. Right. Him.

Jamil is going to die.

Not from the fever, no. That would be merciful.

He is going to die from sheer embarrassment because you—his boss, his greatest headache, his most infuriating problem—are here, in his apartment, fussing over him like some kind of divine punishment.

He barely registers you pulling out a thermometer and shoving it into his mouth with all the grace of someone who has never done this before.

The numbers blink back at you ominously.

“You’re burning up,” you mutter. “Okay, I’m ordering soup. And you are not moving until you eat something.”

Jamil tries to protest. He does.

But then you press a cool towel against his forehead, and—

Oh.

Oh, that is nice.

His body betrays him once again by relaxing into your touch.

By the time the soup arrives, he is too weak to even lift the spoon properly.

So you—without hesitation, without a single ounce of normal human shame—just feed him.

Like a child.

Like he is some helpless, pathetic creature.

Which, okay, maybe right now, he is.

But still. This is humiliating.

It is also the best soup he has ever had in his life.

Jamil finally falls back asleep.

And you sit there, staring at his peaceful, fever-flushed face, wondering how the hell this became your life.

You were supposed to be running a company, not playing nurse to your best-paid spy.

You should not care this much.

And yet.

You check his temperature again. Still high, but better.

You sigh, raking a hand through your hair, and grab your phone.

“Okay,” you mutter into the receiver, pacing the room. “But what do I do if he wakes up and refuses to rest?”

A pause.

Your voice drops, quieter. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want him to push himself again.”

Behind you, Jamil shifts.

You do not notice.

But he notices you.

Your hair is mussed, your usual sharp, teasing grin replaced with something softer.

You look worried. For him.

Jamil stares, something twisting in his chest.

Oh.

Oh, he is so incredibly doomed.

You always knew Jamil was a spy. That much was obvious.

The way he answered every question perfectly in his interview? Suspicious.

The way he executed his tasks with military precision? Suspicious.

The way he didn’t try to subtly flirt with you or brown-nose like all the other incompetent spies before him? Extremely suspicious.

But he was competent. So stupidly, ridiculously competent. And you’d rather keep an enemy that made your life easier than deal with another incompetent fool.

Besides, you like playing with fire. So you decided to see how far you could push him.

So tonight, you left your office unlocked. Oh no. What a terrible mistake. If only someone didn’t sneak in and steal your files.

And to make things more interesting, you left some semi-important files open on your computer. Documents that looked serious enough to be tempting but wouldn’t actually do much damage if leaked.

Right before you left, you made sure to sigh dramatically in front of Jamil and say, “Ugh, these files have been keeping me up at night. I sure hope they don’t get leaked or anything.”

Then, you went to your surveillance setup, made yourself some popcorn, and watched.

Because of course Jamil was going to take the bait.

And sure enough, there he was.

You watch as he sits down at your desk. Silent. Focused. The very picture of efficiency.

You lean forward as he navigates to the files. Click. Click. Scroll. His fingers hover over the copy button.

And then—

He just… stops.

Your eyebrows shoot up. Oh?

Jamil stares at the screen like it personally insulted his honor. His fingers twitch over the keyboard, hesitating.

Your interest piques. He should’ve copied them by now. He’s supposed to be a professional, isn’t he?

He clicks out of the important files.

Your jaw nearly drops. What.

He clicks out. He clicks out. He actively chooses not to take anything of worth.

Instead, you watch as he scrolls past all the confidential reports—

—bypasses all the juicy, corporate secrets—

—ignores all the schematics—

—and copies a single folder labeled “raccoons_for_a_rainy_day.zip.”

You almost choke on your popcorn.

Jamil pauses. Stares at the screen for a long, long moment.

Then, as if committing a terrible crime, he ejects the USB, tucks it away, and swiftly leaves your office.

You sit there, stunned.

Because out of everything in your company’s database, out of all the valuable information he could’ve stolen—

He took your emergency raccoon meme collection.

You blink. Once. Twice.

And then, slowly, a grin spreads across your face.

Oh. Oh, this is delightful.

You knew you were converting him to your side, but this? This is proof.

Jamil, the competent, efficient, dangerously intelligent spy, had a perfect chance to complete his mission. And instead of betraying you, he chose to betray his employer instead.

For you.

How flattering.

You had dealt with a lot of strange things in your life. A lot. But this? This was definitely one of the stupidest.

Your old secretary—the one who took a bribe and fled like a rat from a sinking ship—was currently sitting in front of you, begging for her job back. Why? Who the hell knew. You had been certain that the bribe she took would have lasted her a few years, maybe even bought her a cute little vacation somewhere far away, but apparently, money couldn’t buy wisdom. Or, in her case, common sense.

You leaned back in your chair, fingers steepled together, watching her ramble through increasingly desperate justifications. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’ve learned from my mistakes. You doubted it.

Jamil stood beside you, completely unreadable, but you knew him well enough by now to recognize the signs of his barely contained fury. His shoulders were stiff, his posture rigid, and—most damning of all—his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Oh, interesting.

Obviously, you weren’t rehiring her. She wasn’t even ten percent as competent as Jamil, and unlike her, Jamil wasn’t stupid enough to take a bribe when you were the one offering him far more than money. But this? This was a perfect opportunity to test something.

So you sighed, long and dramatic, before rubbing your temples as if this decision physically pained you. “I’ll consider it,” you said finally. “I’ll call you back once I’ve made my decision.”

Her face lit up, all eager gratitude, and she left the office with a bounce in her step.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you stood, intending to grab a file from your cabinet—but you didn’t get far.

Because Jamil blocked your path.

You blinked at him, more amused than anything, but your amusement flickered into something softer when you saw his face.

He looked wrecked.

Not in an angry way, not even in a controlled, simmering fury. No—this was something else entirely. His eyes searched yours like he was trying to find some sort of answer, his breath slightly uneven, his expression utterly betrayed. He looked like you had punched him in the gut.

You had seen Jamil irritated, seen him exasperated, seen him indulge in rare moments of smugness when his plans went exactly as intended. But this? This raw emotion spilling out of him like a dam breaking—this was new. And you couldn’t stop the way your heartbeat stuttered at the sight.

“Why?” His voice came out hoarse, like he barely trusted himself to speak. “Why would you… Why would you even consider hiring her back?”

You tilted your head, keeping your voice light. “Why does it bother you so much?”

Jamil’s mouth opened—then snapped shut. You could practically see his thoughts racing, running too fast for him to catch up, but something cracked inside of him, because once he started speaking, he couldn’t stop.

“Did I mess up?” he demanded, voice sharper than he probably intended. “Was I not good enough? Did I do something wrong? Why would you—” He cut himself off, exhaling shakily, his hands twitching at his sides like he desperately wanted to reach for you. “You know she isn’t competent. You know she isn’t better than me.”

You hummed, tilting your head in faux thoughtfulness. “Of course, I’ll give you a different position,” you mused. “No need to worry about job security.”

Jamil broke.

Before you could even register the movement, he grabbed you.

His hands found your face, his fingers curling against your skin like he needed to ground himself, like he needed to prove something—and then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t polite. It was desperate, burning with frustration and something deeper, something so much more vulnerable than you had ever expected from him.

And then, hypothesis proven, you kissed him back.

For a moment, you simply blinked.

Jamil pulls away like he just touched something scalding, his breath uneven, his eyes wide with something close to terror. You watch as realization sets in—his own actions hitting him all at once, like a dam finally bursting and drowning him in the consequences of his own emotions.

“I—” His voice is hoarse, almost shaky, but he’s trying to regain control, trying to salvage something, anything. “I’m not who you think I am.” He says it like a confession, like a last-ditch effort to make you see reason, to make you step back and realize that you shouldn’t want him, that you shouldn’t choose him. “I was hired to—”

“My dear, sweet spy,” you interrupt, voice dripping with amused affection, “won’t you be mine?”

Jamil freezes.

You can see the exact second it dawns on him. The way his expression shifts from confused horror to pure, unfiltered disbelief. You knew. You always knew. Of course you did. He should’ve realized it sooner. You were too sharp, too perceptive, too you to have been in the dark about something so crucial.

And yet, here you were. Choosing him anyway.

His lips twitch. His shoulders shake. And then, he laughs.

Not a small chuckle, not a bitter scoff, but a real laugh, something rare and unguarded, something so genuinely light that it catches even him off guard. He laughs so hard that he nearly doubles over, his forehead dropping against yours as he exhales shakily, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

You feel his breath ghost against your skin, feel the warmth of him so close, and yet, there is no hesitation anymore, no careful, measured distance.

He shakes his head, still breathless from laughing, and when he finally meets your gaze, his expression is something unreadable, something painfully soft.

And this time, when he kisses you, there’s no fear left.

“…Fine,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard it. “I’m yours.”

You wake up to the warmth of an arm draped over your waist, the steady rise and fall of a familiar chest behind you. It’s a rare thing—to wake before Jamil. He’s always been the early riser between you, slipping out of bed before the sun has even had the chance to settle into the sky. But today, for the first time in two years, you’re the one watching him sleep.

Two years since his terrified confession. Two years since you pulled him into the kind of love neither of you had ever expected to find. Two years of whispered promises, stolen kisses, and a loyalty that runs deeper than any mission, deeper than any past betrayal.

The early morning light filters in through the curtains, soft and golden, catching on the matching rings on your fingers. A quiet proof of what you’ve built together. The sight makes something tender settle in your chest, and you press a kiss to his forehead, gentle and lingering.

Jamil stirs, brow furrowing for just a moment before he instinctively pulls you closer, his grip tightening around your waist. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, voice thick with sleep as he murmurs, “Why’re you awake so early…?”

You smile, carding your fingers through his hair as you whisper, “Go back to sleep.”

And as the warmth of him lulls you back into slumber, a thought drifts lazily through your mind—

"You sleep too," he grumbles, but it’s lazy, half-hearted. You can already feel his breath evening out, his body relaxing against yours once more. You keep stroking his hair, slow and rhythmic, feeling the last bits of tension melt from his frame.

Maybe playing with fire was the smartest move you ever made.

Masterlist

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Rings 💍

You've ordered: a bone-shaped lemon tart! enjoy!

"It's always been just him and me, together."

Divus Crewel x spouse! reader | word count: 994 words

Summary: the students don't know you're married to their alchemy professor 💍 (silly little crewel drabble! :D)

Warnings: kinda rushed, not proofread. other than that, none!

Note: not my best work, but hey- it is what it is T-T. i will definitely be writing more for crewel in the future! also, i use they/them pronouns for reader. feel free to change them to your preferred pronouns while reading

"Did you guys know that Professor Y/n is married?" Ace exclaimed, receiving reactions of utter shock and complete indifference.

"You're just now finding out?" Jamil asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Wait, you knew? Since when?" Grim asked, his face stuffed with a meat filled pastry.

"Since the first day of class. I noticed the ring when they was handing out papers."

"Do you know who they're married to?" Kalim questioned, Jamil shaking his head.

"All I know is that they're married to a professor. I happened to overhear them talking with another student who asked."

"Professor Trein's too damn old to be their husband and Coach Vargas already told us he's not gonna get married anytime soon." Deuce explained. "And we've never seen Professor Crewel wearing a ring."

"Maybe he doesn't teach here?" Grim mumbled, finishing up his pastry and making a failed attempt to take Deuce's.

"Look! There they are." Ace announced.

The others turned around to see you walking through the cafeteria, greeting students. When you spotted their table, you smiled and waved at them, stepping over. "Good morning everyone! How are you all doing today?" you asked, your voice warm and inviting.

The boys all gave pretty halfhearted responses as their eyes drifted to the ring on your finger. Whoever your husband was, he was definitely loaded. That diamond was the size of their heads.

You followed their gaze, giving a quiet laugh as you reached you hand out, letting them get a better look at the ring. "Before you all ask: yes, i am married."

"Wow! That's a gorgeous ring!" kalim exclaimed, taking in the sparkly rock.

"So, uh...what's your husband like?" Ace outright asked, earning himself a kick under the table from Jamil. "Ignore him, Professor."

"No, no. I don't mind at all. He's very sweet and kindhearted. He's very passionate about his teaching and wants his students to succeed. He's the best man I've ever met, really." you sighed dreamily, thoughts of your husband filing your mind.

The group found it rather sweet, whispering among each other for another question to ask.

"Well, I must be on my way. See you all in class later!" you smiled, giving them a nod as you left the cafeteria and them dumbfounded.

You were currently in your classroom, setting things up for your next class. You taught Magical Botany and Herbalism, a class that happened to go hand in hand with Professor Crewel's Alchemy class.

As you checked in on the various plants growing in your "plant corner" of the classroom (you also used the botanical garden to grow things), you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning around, a wide grin spread over your features as you saw the familiar face.

"Professor Crewel, what a pleasant surprise." you said, a tinge of excitement in your voice at seeing your husband. yes, you were married to none other than Divus Crewel, alchemy professor and dog lover alike.

"Y/n, you know you can drop the formalities when we're alone." he said, stepping over to you. his arms encircled your waist, making you laugh a little.

"Crewel, our students might see!" you exclaimed, pretending to scold him despite your arms already wrapping around his neck.

Crewel gave you one of his flashy grins, resting his forehead against yours. "So? At least then, the puppies will stop bombarding me with questions."

"What questions?" you mused, having a good idea of what they were.

"Like, if i have a crush on you." the alchemy professor said, making you burst into laughter.

"Well, we're married, so I would hope so!" you snickered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Just as your conversation was going well, a few whispering voices could be heard from behind the door. Voices you two knew very well.

"Stop pushing!"

"shh, they're gonna hear us!"

"Did they say they're married?"

You and crewel exchanged a knowing glance, walking over to the door and opening it. Im tumbled Grim, Ace, and Deuce, all three of them with rather guilty looks on their faces.

"Oh? Deuce, this isn't the botanical garden!" Ace said, trying to sound convincing (and failing).

"Where you puppies eavesdropping on us?" Crewel asked, his tone turning stern. You placed a hand onto Crewel's shoulder, shaking your head.

"Let's at least hear them out."

Crewel was about to protest, but nodded his head, letting them explain themselves.

"We were just curious about who Professor Y/n was married to!" Grim blurted, Ace facepalming and Deuce silently scolding the cat-like creature.

"Like he said, we never would've guessed it was Professor Crewel. He never wears a ring." Deuce explained.

You couldn't help but laugh, Crewel rolling his eyes at their little display of curiosity.

"The reason he doesn't wear his ring is because he's afraid he'll lose it or ruin it up during alchemy lessons. It also looks weird if he wears his gloves over it." you explained, the boys nodding their heads.

"You do understand that I'll have to punish you three, correct?" Crewel said, the three boys hanging their heads.

"Oh come on, love. Cut them some slack this time, hm?" you suggested, playfully nudging crewel in his side. The students were shocked to see this side of their professors, finding it a bit weird, but also rather sweet.

"Fine. But don't let me catch you again."

After the trio left, Crewel helped you set up the last of your things. You two were now having one last little intimacy session before classes began again.

"Tell you what? After classes are over, let's go have some tea in your office and just enjoy each other's company?" you hummed, reaching up to tuck a tuft of his white hair behind his ear.

"You always know how to take my stress away." he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Of course I do. I know my husband inside and out." 💍

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[amourluvie]

YOOOOOO I LOVED YOUR FIC OF "Twst Housewardens as animals", will there be any part for the vices? :0 If so, I will be faithfully waiting for it to arrive, remember to drink water and don't torment yourself if you don't have ideas, they will arrive on their own :D

-🔮 anon

YES OFC (and OMHAGAGA yayaya I have anxew anon(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠))

𝘛𝘞𝘚𝘛 𝘝𝘐𝘊𝘌 𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘌𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘚 𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘐𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘚 ᨶᯃྀི✿

𓊆ྀི notes . . . first twst rq yippee! Also so sorry for the very long wait!!:( putting rook first because why not + PLEASE SENT TWST REQUESTS I AM WILLING TO SELL MY SOUL FOR THEM

𓊆ྀི currently listening to . . . You are my music by hi - posi

𓊆ྀི characters . . . Rook hunt , jamil viper , lilia vanrouge , trey clover , ruggie bucchi , jade + Floyd leech ( not adding ortho since idk how to write for him )

ROOK HUNT . . . as a afghan hound

- your dog who's literally fascinated by everything he lays his eyes upon! he truly seeks the beauty in every part of life, but sometimes you need to keep him in control whenever he is interested in something or someone because he won't stop bothering them! However he gets sad whenever you do that so please give him headpats to soothe his poor heart. But the most terrifying incidents that happened which included him is the times you woke up in the dawn of night,thinking someone is watching you when it's really just your furry bestfriend, big eyes staring into your soul.

JAMIL VIPER . . . as a cobra

- your extremely selfless snake who is sometimes hard to read sometimes , hes most of the times calm and reserved in his terrarium, he appreciates affection but not too much, specially on public when he's infront of his golden retriever friend, who goes by the name kalim because he knows kalim will talk his ear off about how sweet and loving his owner is! and whenever he gets the chance to showcase his tricks that you taught him,he will back down and hiss in response which indicates a immediate rejection. you really don't know why your viper acts like this.

LILIA VANROUGE . . . as a fruit bat

- ah yes your cheeky and "friendly" bat who loves to scare you on purpose by either appearing hanging upside down on the most random times to startle you. I mean you can't really blame him can you? It's fun plus seeing your reaction makes it even merrier for him! But he can be a serious bat sometimes, which is shocking to say atleast. He once poured a whole bag of salt inside the soup you were cooking,tarnishing the taste completely. You swear he was grinning when he saw you taste the soup and scrunch up your face in disgust. To him it was the best soup ever! He is the best cook ever known to batkind! Or faekind.

TREY CLOVER . . . as a hamster

- your extremely helpful and laid back hamster who always is there for you whenever you need something, TREY is like jamil in way , always calm and reserved , he also has a strange fixation on making you take care of his dental hygiene at all times and always forces you to take care of yours too! he also always watches you bake and hands you ingredients he thinks the recipe needs to elevate it more , and it really does help.

RUGGIE BUCCHI . . . as a hyena (well no shit)

- your sneaky and clever hyena who is troublesome at times , not letting you eat in peace unless you give him some of your food to him to feast on. Even if you don't give it to him he will just ran up to you as fast as he can and steal it right from your hands ( lovingly ) , he loves getting spoiled with both affection and gifts given by you , happy noises leaving his mouth as you rub his head (in the middle of his ears) , which indicates he's happy ! I mean he's always happy with his owner. ( Well not when your not sharing your snacks with him, he has one sided beef with you now until you feed him something nice. )

JADE LEECH . . . as a moray eel ( who could have guessed ong )

- when you first adopted him alongside with Floyd , he put up a fake persona where he was just a kind and soft eel unlike Floyd who was causing chaos everywhere , and then later you started to find out that he's actually a pretty devious eel , just like his twin brother. whenever you held him he had a tight grip on you , if you tried to pull him out of your hold he would bite lightly , enough for some crimson drops of arterial blood to come out when all Floyd did was just squeeze your hand. But both of them could be helpful and smart at times surprisingly, scaring off any people they find suspicious or people you hate.

[vqnrouged]

⠀⠀HAII uhhmm... moot 😋🥳 eemrmtm... if im NIT mistaken, i saw ur request status open so emrntm.. :sweats: (sorru im kinda awkward w interacting w new ppl 😓)

⠀⠀may i request⠀⠀ second years X gn!reader⠀⠀ who's frequently (sl)eepy but is really, REALLu good at combat???!! like they'd often see [n] tiref in general; though when classes were dismissed, they "unintentionally" saw the reader quarreling some npc who's mildly injured (and possibly a lopsided ankle for the fun of it🤑) and just one tapped the npc's pressure point causing them to faint and BOOM!! reader caught the [insert character] staring at the scene whilst the reader acts like nothing happened 😼😼

⠀⠀SORRY IF IT'S REALLT SPECIFIC i tried to get a hold of myself when i saw ur guidelines when requesting and i hope this isn't too much 😓 my brain is currently filled w tons of chaos and i feel like expressing them at some point /e cry..... BUT TAKE YOUR TIME!! it's no pressure to be doing this in a hurry cuz im often busy w tumblr too and i might not notice it's already been minutes, hours, days or weeks after this request hdhsjsshbs

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐖/ 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏

𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mystery girl by housecall

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : floyd leech, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, silver

𝐚/𝐧 : i’m sorry i took so long to answer this request, zen. i got caught up with school. :( forgive me for being a lil’ rusty with my writing, i’m trying to get used to it again. hence why i split this into two parts. please enjoy!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

Absolute boredom was the only way to describe the end of the school day. The last class always seemed to drone on and on until Floyd found some form of entertainment in a random object, preferably one he could use to bother someone else. However, his joy would always be cut short due to Trein’s exceptionally keen vision and intolerance for disruptions. To put it kindly, he was a total buzz kill.

Hence the pure excitement Floyd felt when he exited the classroom, only to see you, the oh so famous prefect, taking down a larger student in mere seconds. It fascinated him, you were so tiny yet you took the big fishy down so quickly? Consider this eel impressed.

And he was not about to pass up this opportunity for entertainment, so he slowly approached you and the student that laid unconscious on the cold tile. It wasn’t until he stood directly behind you that he uttered even a single word.

Floyd quietly put his head on your shoulder. “Whatcha doin’, shrimpy?” He whispered.

You jumped back from the new presence, and of course it had to be Floyd of all people who found you. Talk about bad luck, he was not going to be letting this go.

A nervous chuckle left you as you turned to face him, your hands clasped together behind your back. “Oh hey, Floyd. What’s up?”

He waved his hand in a relaxed manner. “Oh, nothin’ much. I just so happened ta’ be heading towards the lounge when I happened to see my Shrimpy making a ruckus.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Then a thought occurred to you, could you trick Floyd? So, you quickly came up with an excuse. “What-!? No, I was just heading back to the dorm.”

The eel suddenly got serious, his mismatched eyes stared down at you, unblinking. “Shrimpy, you’re a really bad liar.”

Okay, so that was a terrible excuse. You definitely should have seen this coming.

He relaxed his expression, an eagerness now playing behind his eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase. How’d ya take that big fishy down so easily?” He asked.

You didn’t reply for a moment, too shocked to come up with an answer.

Floyd then grabbed onto your shoulders, aggressively shaking your body as if money would start falling out of your pockets. “Shrimpyyyy, c’mon tell Floydie how you did it!” He whined

You released a loud sigh, putting your hands over Floyd’s to hopefully cease his actions. “Fine, I used martial arts.”

Floyd still had an iron grip on your shoulders, but upon hearing the boring explanation for your royal take down of a Diasomnia student, he slumped down with a pout. “That simple of an explanation? You should’ve just spit it out.”

His disappointed frown then turned into a large, sharp-toothy grin as he eagerly brushed passed you towards the poor student you knocked out. “Let me help ya dispose of the body!”

“FLOYD.”

𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐋-𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌

After finally being let out from his afternoon classes, Kalim was ready to get back to the dorm and set up for the banquet later that evening. But much to his surprise, he was soon met with a tantalizing sight upon turning the corner.

You, the esteemed prefect, famously known for rivaling even Silver in the sleepyhead department, towered over a student adorning a Savanaclaw uniform. The boy didn’t seem injured, at least not from where Kalim was standing. Whatever trick you had pulled, it must’ve been a smooth take down.

This had the housewarden immediately intrigued.

Without missing a beat, the boy happily skipped over to where you stood. The books held in his hands were in a vice grip, his excitement could barely be contained. Attending Night Raven sure did have it’s surprises, but he was abnormally eager to approach you himself.

The white haired boy excitedly exclaimed.“Whoa, how’d you do that?”

You spun around to face the stranger before you, then it hit you. Didn’t this guy look familiar? The garnet-red eyes, the white hair, and even the blindingly bright smile seemed recognizable. Oh, it was Kalim! Well, shit. This guy was notorious for having the determination of a lion working it’s damndest to catch it’s prey, there was no way you were getting out of this. The universe must hate you.

In a desperate attempt to escape the situation, you tried to brush him off. “Please excuse me.”

You began walking in the opposite direction, but this housewarden was not going to give up.

Kalim continued to wear his bright smile, running up next to you to match paces. “But, you were the only one around who could’ve done something like this.”

Incredulously, your eyes widened and you began to pick up the pace. “No, he was like that when I found him.”

Kalim put his hands together like a puppy asking for treats. “Please, tell me your secrets.”

His eyebrows then raised and a light bulb lit up above him. “I know, you can come to the banquet tonight and we’ll be able to talk all about it!”

Your feet stopped and you were sure your face held the most confused look one could hold. You couldn’t help but turn to face him. “What?”

Kalim bounced on the balls of his feet, eagerness radiating off of him. “You’re officially invited to the banquet tonight!”

You didn’t even know what to say to this.

And Kalim did not give you the time to answer. The boy gave you a grin and a quick wave. “I’ll see you later, banquet duty calls!”

“Wait-!”

Kalim didn’t give you time to speak before he was already running off towards the Hall of Mirrors, clearly in high spirits because of his new friend. Friend? You weren’t sure that the two of you had immediately reached that status, you mean, you had just met minutes ago. Though, an inkling feeling that he already thought of you as friends kept seeping into your mind.

It was pleasant. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go to the banquet.

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

Jamil Viper, a calm and collected individual, never one to stand out too much, or cause trouble for others. Or at least, that’s how you knew him before this incident.

It had been a normal day, as normal as a day could be at Night Raven College, and you had your sights set on someone. Typically, you were a student that wouldn’t dare meddle or get in fights with anyone. But a certain second year Scarabia student just had to be a jerk to Ortho, the only person in NRC who’s kindness rivaled Kalim’s, and you were not about to let this guy get away with his crimes against your good friend.

So, you set up a time and a place. Of course, you were not going to use your fists against this guy. You simply wanted a productive conversation to be held, like mature teenagers should have. But, no. The man came at you full throttle, he clearly did not read the letter you gave him at all. Whatever now became of him was in self-defense, and before you knew it he was on the ground.

And Jamil Viper had witnessed it. Not just a sliver of the altercation, all of it.

There was a silent staring contest between the two of you, no one dared to utter a word. It was thick and quite frankly, an odd situation to find yourself in. Jamil has had his fair share of weird encounters, but at this point he did not care about that. This was the icing on the cake to his already long, arduous list of tasks he needed to complete for the day.

To put it simply, his patience was thin.

“He came at me first.” You quickly mumbled, already sensing the displeasure emanating from the vice housewarden.

Jamil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. “I saw, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

Although you felt tired after having used your energy, you didn’t want to make him do it alone. It was not going to be an easy task to carry a boy over half his weight to the nurses office by himself. “You sure? I can at least come to the nurses office with you.”

Despite your willingness to help, Jamil declined. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

He knelt down to the students place on the floor, grabbed his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder to take him to the nurses office. He didn’t say another word either, simply walked off.

You stood still for a moment, soaking in whatever the hell just happened. “See you around?” You muttered.

It was not until a few months later during your time training for the SDC that Jamil mentioned the incident regarding the Scarabia student again during a conversation over some snacks.

“I was trying to be discreet about the situation, it wasn’t like I asked to start a fight!” You argued.

Jamil frowned, crossing his arms. “You were not at all discreet about what you were doing, [Name]. Keep your voice lower if you’re going to go against school rules.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, already reaching your hand into the bag to grab another chip. “I’ll definitely keep that mind next time I get into a fight.” You retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

That shit-eating grin Jamil loved to wear made it’s way to his face as he questioned you. “Oh, so there will be a next time?”

Your eyes immediately hardened into a glare. “I hate you.”

He scoffed, leaning back in his chair all while continuing to wear that smile of his. “Lovely to know that I’m now an accomplice in your ‘Journey for Justice.’”

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑

It was a beautiful sunny day when the incident occurred. Silver was enjoying a well deserved nap under a green, flourishing tree where the shade was just the perfect amount, not too hot and not too cold. There wasn’t a single person around to make a lot of noise either, just the sounds of the leaves rustling back and forth. The conditions were absolutely perfect.

That was until the peacefulness ended.

The Diasomnia student slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. He then let out a yawn, using his hands to push himself up into a sitting position. Then, he saw it.

You, the prefect, regarded for your sleepiness and kindness, being aggressively screamed at by a student in a Heartslabyul uniform. It seemed that you weren’t in immediate danger, but the boy was getting more hostile by the minute. That much Silver could tell and he wasn’t going to allow someone to get hurt.

He began getting to his feet when something interesting occurred, and it happened in only a matter of seconds. Silver’s theory proved to be true, the Heartslabyul student became more hostile and attempted to throw a punch at your face. Instead, you expertly dodged it and quickly used your hands to hit specific points on his body, causing him to clatter to the ground, completely unconscious.

It was something Silver had never seen before and he was intrigued.

With a grunt, you lifted the unconscious boys arm over your shoulder, though it proved to be quite difficult. The whole situation made you angrily curse under your breath. “I hope you learned your lesson. Picking on underclass men is a low thing to do and you know it, especially when you’ve taken it too far. Riddle is not going to like this.”

Ah, so it was a noble act.

Regardless, Silver hastily made his way over to where you stood. He didn’t hesitate with his words either. “If you don‘t mind me asking, what tactic did you use to take down that student?”

Silver’s voice surprised you, he was always quiet in class and you had never really taken the time to pay attention to anything but your instructor. You truly didn’t know what to think, so you didn’t. You spoke without thinking. “Oh, that.”

Well, shit. No pretending like you weren’t involved anymore.

Upon seeing the look on your face, Silver awkwardly coughed. “Please excuse me for asking.”

You shook your head, the cat was already out of the bag. “It’s alright, there’s no hiding it now. You saw everything, didn’t you? What I used to take down this man was a form of martial arts called kyusho jitsu, it uses pressure points to take down an opponent.”

Silver’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “That’s very interesting. Would you mind telling me more?”

You grimaced, taking a glance down at the unconscious boy resting on your shoulder. “Sorry, maybe another time? I need to get this guy to the nurses office.”

Silver didn’t hesitate to move to the other side of the student, repeating the same action of lifting the boys arm around his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind if I assist you.”

Giving him a thankful smile, you turned to face towards the hall leading east. “Thank you. I never got your name by the way, mine is [Name]. And yours?”

He returned the gesture with a small grin. “I’m Silver.”

“Pleased to officially meet you then, Silver.”

“Likewise.”

@𝐯𝐪𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐝 — ˚ ✦ . ˚. - please do not translate or plagiarize my works.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I in one of your most recent posts about the new Halloween event you said that in this event Vil actually suggests outright abandoning us?! 💀 Wtf!!?? Can you please elaborate a bit more about where he said that and the context of why he said it? I've already seen what's available of the event but I don't remember that part. Thank you for covering the events by the way as sometimes the translation is too rough to make out the story or I'm unable to finish it while in game. 🤍🩶🖤(Spooky hearts)

[Referencing this post!]

The scene you’re referring to is the end of 1-8 of Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas. At this point in the event, the NRC students have been sucked into the world of the storybook and have met Skully.

The group has come to the circle of holiday trees and Jade has opened the Halloween door. Skully looks inside but remarks that he cannot see the bottom. It’s then that a powerful gust of wind starts to pull him inside. As he’s falling, he grabs onto Grim’s tail for support. However, it becomes a chain of people grabbing onto others (Skully grabs Grim, Grim grabs Yuu, Yuu grabs Sebek, Sebek grabs Leona, Leona grabs Jamil) until several of us have fallen into the Halloween tree hole.

The remaining boys look at one another and debate about what they should do. After Jade notes that Yuu and the others have fallen into the tree, Vil says (rough translation): “What should we do? Leave them?” So yeah, he’s outright suggesting they abandon our asses 😭 There’s no sugarcoating it or some context that magically makes his lines any nicer.

Idia agrees with Vil to abandon us. Azul speaks up to express dissent, saying that they can put Skully, Grim, Yuu, Sebek, Leona, and Jamil in their debt if they go and rescue them. Riddle agrees with Azul because it’s the correct thing to do to find missing people, so they ultimately follow us into the tree.

I don’t think this is anything to be too startled over though?? Perhaps it doesn’t necessarily feel good to be betrayed by characters we enjoy, but it’s been pretty well-established that NRC students tend to go by the “every man for himself” mentality. Plus, the idea of NRC students being willing to throw others under the bus or abandon them if it’s convenient has definitely already happened numerous times before. (Yuu, despite being the self-insert character, is not always an exception to this.) One major example of the NRC students abandoning others is 3-15 of Glorious Masquerade (ie another Halloween event). Idia and Ruggie bring up leaving the RSA students (who sacrificed themselves so the NRC students could get away from the crimson flowers/fire lotuses) and just going home.

In GloMasq, the boys eventually decide to stick around and help out for a variety of reasons, including but not limited to: Silver noting that the spread of the flowers could endanger people they care about, Azul not wanting to leave a debt unpaid + wanting to put a bunch of mages in hospital debt, and Malleus seeking revenge on Rollo.

As you can see, the majority of the reasoning offered for the NRC boys saving the day actually have quite selfish roots. Vil’s suggestion in the current Lost in the Book Event therefore isn’t out of the ordinary. He doesn’t really have anything to gain or lose from a few of us going missing. Maybe the story would be different if one of his dorm members (say, Epel) or someone he has real responsibility over went down the tree, but Vil isn’t obligated to look after us to that extent.

[cup1dt3a]

Prefect’s Revenge

Summary: The dorm leaders and the vice dorm leader of Scarabia have been noticing weird things going on recently. Having no clue why until the Ramshackle prefect reveals their the one behind their recent misfortune at a meeting.

A/N: This is basically just a crack fic of Mc being done with everyone’s bs and proceeds to traumatize the overblot group. I’m slowly getting back into writing. I hope you’re all doing well and are having a wonderful day/night!

-Sincerely Cupid Tea 💖

It started off with Riddle soon noticing something different with his breath. Usually after he brushed his teeth he always felt like his breath was minty fresh. Recently though he soon noticed an odd taste in the back of his mouth. He hadn’t changed anything recently. Nothing in his routine seemed different too. Even confiding in Trey about anything that could be causing his bad breath. Sadly Trey couldn’t even figure out why and just told him to buy some mints to help including trying to brush his teeth more. The red head was soon left to ponder why his breath smelled so bad recently.

Then it was Leona. Sure his dormitory was known for reckless and obnoxious beastman. Though it’s never been this bad. All he wanted to do was sleep that’s it, but for some reason his dorm mates refused to turn down the music or stop partying. He was honestly sick and tired of hearing the blasting music from the lounge area. He’s even had to grumpily get out of his bed late early in the morning to tell them to keep it down. He was almost on the verge of actually begging them to shut the fuck up. He couldn’t even sleep in the botanical garden anymore without Last Friday night playing on repeat in his head once again. Even I’m a Barbie girl was haunting him.

Soon misfortune stuck Azul his coin collection that he locked in the vault wouldn’t open. He even got 2 new coins. Very rare and coins that were easy for anyone to steal and make a fortune off of. He soon tried to pull the door open thinking it was jammed. Sadly that didn’t work at all. He’s used a chainsaw, a lock picker, he even tried using the twins brute strength to open the door. After hours and hours of trying to get the door open in a desperate attempt to get his coin collection he threw himself at the door. Sadly, once again nothing worked. He was currently heaving with tears of frustration just wanting to put his new coins in his collection that he couldn’t get to.

Jamil soon started to notice an odd sensation on his back in the middle of the night. He mistook it for the cold breeze coming into his room due to it being colder at night. Soon it felt like something crawling on his back. But every time he checked there was nothing. He soon let his imagination get the best of him thinking it was spiders crawling up his back. Not to mention the recent spider infestation at his dormitory it seemed that everyday for the past week everyone in the Scarabia dorm was seeing spiders. This only scared the vice house warden more.

A horrific thing had happened in Pomefiore. Vil. The Vil Shoenheit had a pimple on his face. A horrendous pimple was on his face. Wait now it’s 2! Now it’s three!! What is happening!? His skincare routine was impeccable!! There’s no way this should be happening!

Idia was currently panicking. How the hell could someone hack him!? His everything was hacked!! He couldn’t even play with only friend online without the screen glitching out! Who the hell even downloaded so many viruses onto his computer!? How did they even download so many!?

Diasomnia was no better than the rest as a harsh thunderstorm plagued the dormitory. Malleus had lost his tamagochi Gao-Gao Drakon-kun. Which should’ve been impossible, but here we are he was currently tearing his room apart. While the rest of diasombia cowered at Malleus’s rage Lilia, Silver, … mainly Lilia and Silver tried to help him calm down and think rationally before he caused a tornado to run through the campus. Sebek was no help at all as he joined in on the destruction of Malleus’s room determined to find his masters Beloved Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.

Soon they were all called to a house warden meeting to discuss something with Crowley. They all stood a bit awkwardly. Riddle for once kept his mouth shut as he sat at the table before shoving another mint into his mouth for the 12th time today. Leona was on the verge of passing out as he looked down looked as if he was in pain and sleep deprived. Azul looked upset for once as if he was frustrated about something. Jamil looked paranoid as he kept glancing back and forth left to right at the walls occasionally slapping his back. He had come due to Kalim needing to study for an upcoming test due to his grades getting low. Vil on the other hand had on a mask. Idia was aggressively tapping his tablet making an upset groan once again seeing the screen glitch. Malleus on the other hand was impatiently tapping his foot he had no time for this he needed to find Gao-Gao Drakon-Kun. He was thankful to actually be here for once, but he had more important matters at the moment.

Soon and unexpectedly {Y/N} came in to break the silence.

“… Well it’s oddly quiet in here for once.” you chuckled.

None of it found it amusing as they all looked desperate to get out of here.

“ Fine then I’ll cut to the chase… Crowley didn’t invite you all here I did. “ you revealed having them all look at you in confusion.

“Why prefect?” *riddle asked popping another mint into his mouth after cringing smelling his breath.

“Well you see… you guys all remember when you overblotted right?” the atmosphere immediately grew a bit tense.

“I’m still pretty pissed about it to be honest so I thought why not get revenge on all of you.” This immediately caught their attention.

Soon Vil ripped off his mask yelling “ You did this to me!?” The others stared at him in shock his chin and cheeks were covered in red pimples. Well everyone except you this made you chuckle as you nodded.

“ Yep I replaced that cream you use in your face routine with lard.” You giggled as Vil gasped looking at you in disbelief.

“… W-wait what did you do to be then?” Riddle asked covering his mouth this made you sigh.

“ Riddle in all honesty I did this to you a while ago when you acted like a tyrant… I’ll apologize for this one but… I used your tooth brush to clean the toilets in Ramshackle.”he stood there in shock before gagging and running out the room.

The others just looked at you in shock and one by one you revealed what you did to them. For Leona you actually installed speakers outside his room that constantly play Last Friday night and Barbie girl. Turns out Ruggie really will do anything for a quick buck and donuts. Azul you had used super glue on the vaults lock. Idia you had ortho teach you how to hack and he’s surprisingly a very good teacher; you even sent idias search history to his parents. You had actually put a pregnant spider in Jamils room. Last but not least for Malleus you stole his tamagotchi.

“… You did all this for what!?” *Azul had a crazed look on his face as he looked at you in disbelief.

“ Revenge!” You yelled.

[yuurei20]

hello! currently I’m seeing a lot of people on twitter talking about Ace being 17 and some of the second years being 18, but I feel I remember people discussing a tweet from yana stating that the age in their bio is the age they turn “this year” in story? do you (or any of your followers!) have confirmation of this or any information that contradicts this? I’m wondering if the tweet nonexistent or being misconstrued

EDIT: New Information added below 👀👀👀👀👀

--

25/3/14 Edit: We have received confirmation from Yana that the characters age throughout the year, and the age listed in their profiles was how old they were when the prefect appeared in the world. More here!

--

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! ❤️ This is maybe coming from a recent reveal on JP!

No one says "Ace is 17 years old" (and the scene was uploaded to YouTube by a JP user with the thumbnail of "That's right, this guy is just a 16-year-old high school student...")--

--but Trey confirms that Riddle is only one month older than Ace 🌹

If we want to add the conditions of "someone must say on screen and in the main story that they are a certain age for it to be considered canon" then we have that too, with Vil saying that he, Rook and Idia are all 18, and Silver saying that he is 17.

But Vil introduces something of a paradox as he is kidnapped to STYX post-VDC, which is in February, and Lilia's farewell party is 6 months after the start of the school year, which we know is September, making it around March (all of which has been confirmed in the main story ↓)

But both Rook and Idia have December birthdays, so while Vil himself is still 18 in both these instances Rook and Idia should be 19...assuming that the characters are aging 🧐 More here:

As for the clarification of character bio ages via Yana-tweet, I have not been able to find one! :> I think the one and only time she has ever commented on character ages in the game was when she shared that Jamil is the oldest 2nd-year student, which makes sense, as he (like Ace) has a September birthday:

But maybe that is all? (unless someone else may happen to have additional information! :>)

While some people seem to have taken Trey's comment of "Riddle is one month older than Ace" to mean that the characters are aging in the main story, this is contradicted by Vil saying that Rook and Idia are still the same age as they were in September 🧐 Or maybe he does not know their birthdays and is just assuming they are still his age?

(Vil is the youngest 3rd-year student, and has never given Rook a birthday present ww)

And Silver is also a paradox: he says he will be "coming of age next year" in a scene that canonically 6 months after September, which means he will be turning 18 in two months. Or perhaps the age of majority in Twst is 19? 🧐 Curiouser and curiouser!

On the JP-server side I have found multiple people of the opinion that the characters enroll at age 15 and turn 16 during the year, not 16-to-17, as that is system for high school students in Japan (link 1) (link 2) (link 3). But the community seems split, with others referencing in-game comments from students like Deuce, Silver and Vil to argue that they enroll at 16 and turn 17.

One person comments, "It makes more sense to assume that the age is fixed for the current year within the game’s setting."

I am not sure Trey's comment of "Ace is only one month younger than Riddle" really counts as canon proof that the characters are aging in the main story, and the ages that have have been canonically confirmed have been those that match the character profiles!

But they have also always been spoken by characters who have yet to have had their birthdays 👀

Maybe another example of Twst being intentionally vague for players to decide as they will? ^^

EDIT: New Book 7 information below!!

We have an on-screen, Main Story-canon confirmation of characters aging: Malleus says that Silver turns 18 in Book 7! ^^

[flmer]

★ oh no! it's the baby apocalypse! (2) ┊ wc:

content: talks of baby stuff, crackfic?

pairings: idia & malleus x gn!reader. (seperated)

note! I finally did the part 2! although the last part would be Kalim and Jamil.. This was stuck in my drafts and I just noticed now. part 1

idia.

idia is the type of dad to spoil his child since he doesn't really know what else to do, he isn't used to saying affectionate words but he does make it up by spending time with the child and spoiling them.

I believe that idia has some experience in handling kids because of ortho so he wouldn't technically be completely clueless about fatherhood. (also there's a chance that he watched those family animes)

when he first saw his child, he froze. he froze like an ice statue because he's in shock like wow?? is that really his baby?? (the baby literally has his fire hair.)

he's awestruck because of how adorable the baby looks and not to mention how cute it is... idia promises that he'd do anything to make his child smile

he spends his free time bonding with his child by watching numerous animes and playing games that's child friendly of course, even though the child could barely talk... but it is quite endearing to hear the nonsensical babble of your child and idia nodding along with whatever they just said as id he understands them.

“I probably won't be able to buy that much merch anymore... unless I make my child enjoy gaming and anime >:) ”

malleus.

he would isolate his child without knowing he's isolating his child inside his castle. it was how he was raised but his child won't be completely isolated just protected. malleus wants his child to not have the same childhood like the one he had.

malleus would be king by the time he had a child but that doesn't mean his child would rarely see him, no. malleus grew up without experiencing his mother and father’s presence in his childhood that's why he makes sure his child always sees him. malleus's child would practically be in the throne room playing with toys and malleus's tail and also talking gibberish nonsense with the guards that's stationed in the throne room mostly silver and sebek. the scenario goes like this: malleus on his throne listening to silver and sebek's reports while his eyes sometimes stray to his child and his mouth would twitch and turn upwards- the reason was because his child is now currently munching on silver's long cloak while their hand was occupied with grasping sebek's pants. it was an eandering sight.

the first time he saw his child, he cried. the fearsome dragon fae king was shedding tears like a newborn baby and it was because of the mere sight of his child. when the child first opened their eyes- malleus saw his own striking electric green eyes staring right back at him and that was what made him have a wide smile on his face as his child reaches for his horns with their small closed fists.

lilia sometimes makes sure to visit just so he could spend some time with his precious grandchild, yes, his bangs got burned again by a similar green fire that came out of the mouth of the baby he's holding. malleus saw this happen and his reaction was to chuckle while sebek fretted over lilia's now smoking bangs but lilia only waved him off saying that he's used to it by now, and silver is just standing there with a soft smile on his face.

malleus takes you and his child out every night to walk with him in a forest that malleus used to go to back when he was a child whenever he feels overwhelmed with his feelings. the forest is a beauty with it's thorned vines that seems to wrap around trees, there were also some glowing fairies lingering and lighting the beautiful forest. the forest was the meaning of peace and beauty.

malleus hums a familiar lullaby that he used to sing for you back when you both were still at nrc, his hands caressing you and your child's hair as he wraps his arms around the both of you protectively as if the both of you would disappear out of his arms.

[deezee112]

The worst ending 13 : Snake Charmer's Final Melody

The worst ending 12 | The worst ending 14

Yandere!Jamil Viper x GN!Reader

A/N : Hey everyone! I just wanted to say that this episode might not be as interesting as you all expected, because I'm currently working on a history class so it might come out bad Sorry in advance :(

And I'm running out of ideas right now. Sorry if I disappear for a while, but don't worry, it won't happen now.

Warning : psychological control , Depictions of hypnosis and its adverse effects , Physical and mental decline leading to character death , Emotional distress and tragic themes

Tags:

@iris-arcadia

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

You found him alone and quiet, his small figure curled up in the corner of the room. He didn’t cry or make a sound, but his dark, piercing eyes followed you every move.

“ You can’t stay nameless forever. ” you said softly, crouching down in front of him.

He tilted his head, watching you curiously.

“ How about…Jamil? ”

For a moment, he didn’t react. Then, his lips curled into a faint smile, and he nodded slowly. you felt you heart swell with warmth.

“ Jamil it is, then. ”

At first, he didn’t speak. He communicated with gestures and expressions, his silence both mysterious and endearing. But as days turned into weeks, he began to open up. His first words came unexpectedly one morning as he handed you a cup of tea he had made himself.

“ y/n ” he said softly, his voice smooth and quiet.

Tears pricked your eyes as you accepted the tea. “ You’re such a clever boy, Jamil. ”

Jamil grew into an incredibly capable child. By the time he was seven, he could cook meals better than you and keep the house spotless. His attention to detail was meticulous, and he took pride in taking care of you.

“ y/n ” he said one evening as they sat down for dinner. “ I noticed you’ve been forgetting to eat lunch at work, so I packed you something for tomorrow. ”

You blinked in surprise, looking at the neatly packed lunchbox he handed you. “ Jamil, you didn’t have to do this. ”

“ I wanted to. ” he replied simply, his dark eyes unwavering. “ You take care of me, so I’ll take care of you. ”

You smiled, you chest tightening with emotion. “ Thank you, Jamil. You’re the best. ”

He was the perfect child—obedient , thoughtful , and always one step ahead. But there was something unsettling about the way he watched you sometimes, his gaze intense and calculating.

It started innocently enough. you had been feeling stressed, and Jamil offered to help you relax.

“ Look at my eyes. ” he said one evening as you sat on the couch, massaging you temples. “ I’ll make you feel better. ”

You hesitated but trusted him. “ Alright... ”

Jamil voice became soft and hypnotic as he spoke, guiding you into a state of calm. “ You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need to worry about anything. ”

When you woke up, you felt refreshed, the tension in your body gone. “ Thank you, Jamil. ” you said, ruffling his hair.

But it didn’t stop there. Jamil began using his hypnotic abilities on your more frequently, often without you knowledge. At first, it was harmless—helping you sleep, easing you headaches. But soon, he started to push further, planting suggestions and altering your memories.

“ Don’t you remember, y/n? You promised we’d stay home today. ” he say with a smile, even though you was certain you had made plans to go out.

Confused, you nod, unsure of your own recollections. “ Yeah…maybe I must’ve forgotten. ”

Over time, you began to notice strange symptoms. you would wake up with splitting headaches and occasional nosebleeds. You memory became unreliable, and you often felt disoriented.

“ Jamil, have you noticed anything strange about me lately? ” you asked one evening, rubbing your temples as another headache throbbed behind your eyes.

He looked at you with feigned concern. “ You’ve been overworking yourself, y/n. You need to rest more. ”

You nodded, trusting his judgment. But the symptoms only worsened. you find yourself forgetting simple things—where you put your keys, what day it was, even conversations you had with Jamil.

One day, you woke up in a daze, unable to remember the events of the previous night. “ Jamil, did we do anything yesterday? ”

He smiled gently. “ You were tired, so I helped you relax. You don’t need to worry about anything. ”

You condition deteriorated rapidly. You began experiencing blackouts, losing hours at a time. You headaches became unbearable, and you once sharp mind felt foggy and dull.

One evening, as you sat on the couch, clutching you head, you turned to Jamil with desperation in your eyes. “ Something’s wrong with me, Jamil. I need to see a doctor. ”

He froze, his calm demeanor faltering for a moment. “ You don’t need a doctor, y/n. I’ll take care of you. ”

“ No, Jamil. ” you said firmly, your voice trembling. “ This is serious. I can’t keep living like this. ”

His expression darkened, and for the first time, you saw something cold and unyielding in his eyes. “ You don’t trust me? ”

“ Of course I do. ” you said softly. “ But I need help— ”

“ You don’t need anyone but me. ” he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous.

You heart raced as you realized the depth of his control over your. “ Jamil… what have you done to me? ”

The next morning, you woke up feeling weaker than ever. You vision blurred, and you limbs felt heavy. You stumbled into the kitchen, where Jamil was waiting with a cup of tea.

“ Drink this. ” he said, his voice soothing.

You took the cup with trembling hands, staring at him with tears in your eyes. “ Jamil… I’m scared. ”

“ You don’t need to be. ” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “ I’ll take care of everything. ”

As you sipped the tea, you vision darkened, and you body grew numb. You collapsed onto the floor, you breathing shallow.

Jamil knelt beside you, his expression calm and composed. “ You’ll be at peace now, y/n. You’ll finally rest. ”

You last thought was of the boy you had named, the child you had loved so deeply have killed you.

Jamil sat in the empty house, the silence pressing down on him. He stared at the spot where you had taken you last breath, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

He had done it to protect you, to keep you with him forever. But now, you was gone, and the emptiness you left behind was unbearable.

“ I’ll take care of everything. ” he whispered to the empty room, his voice hollow.

But no amount of cooking or cleaning could fill the void in his heart. He had taken everything from you, and in doing so, had destroyed the one person who made his world whole.

[diodellet]

cw: 3 am thoughts hitting, but this time we got good ones 🤧 yippee🎉 i would've wanted to put this in my current wip, but the vibes don't fit, so i'm jus throwing it out here. pre-slash relationship crack, reader is yuu/ramshackle prefect and extra down-bad for jamil, accidental violence and blood descriptions, unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine as always. if u see me editing out any typos and incomplete sentences, no u did not.

thinking of how jamil seems to have a constant furrow in his brow while sleeping. at first, you take it as a sign that he probably isn't even asleep. he's probably keeping his eyes shut in spite of the noise you make. as much as you blame the lack of regular upkeep for the ramshackle dormitory's constant creaks and groans, jamil probably is the lightest sleeper (out of the human characters in the NRC ensemble at least). he's probably keeping all the minute complaints to himself and is just making use of these forty-five minutes away from kalim.

to you, the little crease on his forehead is extra confirmation that - no matter how much he denies it - jamil is so overworked that he cannot seem to find much peace, even in unconsciousness.

and you try to busy yourself, anything to stop from keeping vigil (or watching over him like a guardian angel? to be honest, you were more like a sleep paralysis demon). you were not going to ruin this sacred nap - oh, that sounded so depressing, he barely even gets an hour of break time away from his duties.

(though you do consider reaching for his phone and messing with the alarm. maybe you could stretch that scant bit of time into two, three hours. or just shut it off completely, jamil more than deserved the sublime comfort of not having to wake up to alarms. but, alas, if only you knew his passcode.)

instead what happens is that you crouch by him, one of your hands tentatively outstretched. the pads of your fingertips just hovering a few centimeters away from his face, poised to soothe the tension from his features.

and what happened next, happened in rapid succession and was completely your fault.

crack!

(your cheeks don't stop burning. you can hang your head in a display of shameful contrition, sure. but the truth is that you're tuning out every single word of jamil's exasperated sermon in favor of savoring his touch as he presses a fistful of napkins against your face to stop the bleeding. thankfully not broken, but capillaries like to do their thing and make the situation more dramatic than it actually is.

"enough worrying about me, what about your hand?" you'd sound so cool if you didn't have dried blood on your face.

the unimpressed frown jamil gives you is all the response you need. heck, if you looked closely, you could see him combing through his encyclopedia of choice insults. "my hand is fine. but now i've got a headache thanks to someone being a dumbass. should i be glad that it isn't kalim for once?"

oh, more than a mix of guilt and shame, having jamil's attention on you is an intoxicating sensation, you can only muster a weak "haha" in response.)

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 3』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

Everything is going Azul’s way. Last week the prefect told him he has nice handwriting, his academic rival is suffering, and everyone is a bit on edge, especially Idia, who just tried to conspire with Jamil to figure a way out.

Azul is not nervous. He doesn’t have dreams, except those he’s already decided on. Goals is a better term for it. He is curious as to what the prince of Briar Valley wants. Perhaps he could make a deal? A bit ambitious, but… such is business. Speaking of Malleus, Azul is sure he hasn’t blinked in a few minutes.

(Y/N) is sitting on a chair, turned away from the scene. No thoughts are currently moving inside her head in order to preserve sanity for upcoming tomfoolery. “Sweet potato, do you remember what your dreams are about?” Vil hopes they involve him. “I can’t really remember. I just blackout from exhaustion when my head hits the pillow.” His face isn’t exactly pleased. “Stress isn’t good for you. I’ll talk with the headmage. Just so you know, you’re always welcome at Pomefiore.” Preferably permanently.

“Let’s go to the main event, my love.” Dream (Y/N) extends her hand to Dream Riddle, who gladly takes it. (Y/N) is pretty sure she heard someone shriek a bit when the cafe warped. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The scent of roses wafts through the lakeside park. Stars dot the sky. (Y/N) is yet again quick to recover, and sees the couple on a checkered picnic blanket.

Riddle wants to run away. This is the conversation that happens at the end of each of his dreams. It’s blatant wish fulfillment, but it staves away most of the yearning during the day.

He finds his words. “...please. Let me preserve my dignity.” His face is comparable to the strawberry tart from the cafe. Leona ignores his plea and lies down on the grass near the couple. “Nah. Besides, I bet octobitch will have an even worse sapfest than whatever your brain could come up with.” Azul makes a face. “Mind your words.” He is ignored.

Jamil and Vil have settled onto the bench facing the meadow where the couple are laying. Dream Riddle has his head on Dream (Y/N)’s arm, and they are holding hands.

Riddle knows the coming conversation beat by beat. “It’s beautiful.” Gray eyes wonder at the sky. “So are you. More so, I’d argue.” Her voice is quiet, but confident. Like she’s speaking facts. “We’ll be together longer than the stars will twinkle in the sky.” A lovestruck smile crowns the statement. “You mean it?” The voice it’s spoken in wavers with the threat of tears. “I know it. We’ll live here, with our friends, and each other. We won’t have to do anything we don’t want to. I’ll take you out every night and day, if you want it. I’ll do anything so you’ll be happy.” The real Riddle is currently staring at the prefect. She isn’t reacting, but her gaze is soft. Is it pity she’s feeling?

He sighs. He’ll be clowned on for the rest of his life by Azul, and he pleads to the Seven that Ace and Floyd will never have any word of this. He jumps at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

“...Hey. Don’t feel bad. Dreams come from the subconscious or something.” (Y/N) considered her next words. “We can go hang out somewhere cool if you want. Just ask.” She figured his mind has just blended some old romance movie and his want for rebellion without punishment together. “Thank you, prefect.” Riddle smiles with a relieved look.

That’s the queue for Malleus to change the dream into Leona’s.

[the-trinket-witch]

700 Follower Special AU Just for You All!

Co-authored by @squidwen (All borders provided by CafeKitsune)

Inspirations: The Rescuers/Rescuers Down Under, Great Mouse Detective, Lady and the Tramp, The Aristocats, Oliver & Company, Bolt, Princess and the Frog, etc.

CW: Exploitation, child endangerment. (NOTE: No NSFW elements will be referenced or alluded to, nor will this AU allow such elements to be included.)

The world is a dangerous place. Hazards occur naturally or otherwise on a daily basis, people fall through the cracks in society; it seems like the most that ‘kindness’ affords is the attention of those willing to take advantage of it. 

And this attention seems to be currently directed…at Yuu. 

Yuu is still young, likely no more than 12. In a world that seems to have it out for Yuu, the orphanage is maybe the last bastion of safety until The One comes walking through to officially make them a part of their family. But again, it’s been 12 years, so none can blame them if that hope is starting to wane.

Dire Crowley touts himself as a generous, benevolent caretaker; which is a funny way to say ‘Neglectful’ and ‘Exploitative’. Yuu doesn’t get a chance to find this out until after the whirlwind that was their adoption settles. The man seems to care more about appearances, and where his next hefty payout will come from. So then it falls on Yuu to keep the home looking presentable, Crowley looking generous, and the indentured servitude swept under the rug. 

Not all attention is bad, though. Unseen by human society, the Animal Kingdom keeps its eyes trained to lend a claw out to the vulnerable. The National Rescue Conglomerate, or NRC, are a group of animals from all across Twisted Wonderland who answer the call for help wherever they hear it. The Seven Delegates may not agree on everything, but the one thing they can agree on is that someone will answer a call of distress. 

Said Delegates are:

Riddle → Hedgehog with a prickly temper

Leona → Lion who only seems lazy until the going gets rough

Azul → Coconut Octopus that has quite the reach of influence

Kalim → Otter trying to do more for himself than just float along

Vil → Peacock who’s fanning out to teach a new generation of Rescuers

Idia → British Blue cat who rarely ‘paws’es his games for anything

Malleus → Komodo Dragon with a reputation as fearsome as his fantasy counterpart

Other Members of the NRC/characters include:

Queendom of Roses Representatives

Deuce → Rabbit with a penchant for perfectly timed traps

Ace → Flamingo who’s sleight-of-feather makes for a great distraction

Trey → Tortoise that always has something cookin’ under that shell

Cater → Butterfly so social, he’s heard everything

Sunset Savannah Squadron

Ruggie → Hyena willing to laugh in the face of danger

Jack → Wolf with an affinity for leading the pack

Coral Sea Set

Jade and Floyd → Moray Eels more than happy to put the squeeze on trouble

Scalding Sands Squad

Jamil → Cobra with words that have plenty of bite of their own

Pyroxene Posse

Epel → Cygnet learning how to navigate the world with grace

Rook → Seagull with a keen eye for detail

Lamentation Isle League

Ortho → Electronic Toy Mouse that knows when and when not to play around

Briar Valley Vanguard

Lilia → Vampire Bat with adopted kids and a lot of history under his wings

Silver → Squirrel that doesn’t find himself usually one for chatter

Sebek → Crocodile with enough heft to tip the scales in his favor

Shaftland Animal Sanctuary

Niege LeBlanc → A Human running an animal sanctuary with his Seven Adoptive Fathers

But even with their help, Yuu won’t be completely out of the woods. Crowley keeps a few ‘pets’ he’s willing to deploy to get them back:

Sam → Poison dart frog

Ashton → Stag

Crewel → Dalmatian

Trein → Owl

Who might be the ones to help rescue Yuu from their situation, and what might happen from there? Will it be smooth sailing once out from under Crowley or will there be others out looking to get Yuu in their clutches? Would they try to return to their orphanage? Maybe their story ends in the joining of a family that actually has their interests in heart? Do they forgo humanity altogether and just live among the animals that so cared for them up until this point?

This AU was built with the immense patience and help of Squidwen. We offer it out to you all as a sort of ‘Follower Milestone’ gift for everyone, since I recently reached 700 folks following me. What we are offering in this AU is:

A chance for you all to throw your OCs in to see how they handle trouble in the form of a real-world animal. Be it through art, writing, roleplay with your friends, This post and AU is more or less a sandbox for folks to play around in!

I’ll be occasionally posting pics depending on what I see/find time to doodle. For reference FOR those doodles, below both Squidwen and I have found where each of our own OCs fit into this general world:

DeVerre and Eugenio → Orphans from the same institution, ‘adopted’ by Crowley to be sold to the highest bidder. 

(Squidwen’s OCs)

Verrick → White Persian Cat (Wears a tailcoat).

Seth → Giant Pacific Octopus (Needs a pipe that blows bubbles)!!

Tallis → Hummingbird (Wears a belt and aviator goggles).

Billy → Black Bear (Wears a snorkel parka hood).

Basil → Burmese Python (still has his purple pince-nez, and maybe a legwarmer around his throat)

(Trinket’s OCs)

Albert → Fox (wears a carf)

Tidus → Giant Mudskipper (Big ol’ glasses)

Lázaro → Xoloitzcuintle (skele birthmarks)

Levi → Rock Lobster (blue markings)

Galen → Stray Mutt (hat/poncho or bandana)

Of course, with Protagonists, there usually are antagonists (all of which for this AU are human):

Rebekya Balanaga (Squidwen)

The prim, pale owner of the modeling agency Pearls of Ophenheim. DeVerre especially catches her eye. The girl has unusual silver hair and very pale skin; something that’ll cause a fuss and stir attention in magazines, she hopes. Heels, camera angles, and a ton of make-up, and no one will be able to tell that a child is working for her.

→ She has a pet albino python called Princess.

Honest John and Gidel

Just two, hardworking fellas on the look out for their next employee or circus act. Children make excellent workers, especially those who don’t have much. Yuu is especially of interest to them, given how dextrous they seem. Would they make a good trapeze artist? Or contortionist - given the right training? Or, heck, maybe they’d be happy to just do all the menial tasks around Playful Land, right?

Aadesh Sona and Mr Rajesh Khan (Trinket)

These gentlemen are vital when it comes to producing anything. Animal-testing is the aim of the game for these two, but at times, testing on animals can prove slow, and even a waste of time. Why test chemicals on rabbits and mice when you can just skip to human trials? And since DeVerre and Yuu have been “adopted” by Crowley, no one will stop to ask where they are.

→ Aadesh and Mr Khan as well have their own pets. Basil the Burmese Python being Aadesh's, and a tiger named Shakti. 

As for our own OCs, Eugenio and DeVerre do manage to escape from Crowley’s clutches; with the help of the orphanage cat: Verrick. He sensed something was off with Crowley the moment he stepped through the door. Fearing for the children’s safety, he calls a meeting with the NRC to discuss saving them.

Both of us hope you'll enjoy the premise and find a bit of fun coming up with little scenarios for your OCs to get into. I specifically want to say how grateful I am to have 700 of y'all following for TWST content or the like and I hope to offer more fun things in either interactions, chats, or lil doodles of our characters doing stuff. I esp. wanna thank Squidwen for the help in concocting this whole thing. It's been so much fun to RP with ya and look forward to writing even more UvU

TAGLIST:

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia @writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house @thehollowwriter @rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie

@hoboyherewego @achy-boo @oreoskys @oseathepebble @oathofoaks

@tunabesimpin @hamstergal @fumikomiyasaki @valse-a-mille-temps

@hallowed-delights @kimikitti @cyanide-latte @thetwstwildcard @atwstedstory

@comingyourlugubriousness @ice-cweam-sod4 @twst-the-night-away @nammanarin @scint1llat3

@tixdixl @prince-kallisto

[blondeaxolotl]

I keep talking about Kalim and Jamil alot but sorry I like them and I will keep talking about them because I like their bond (well, the lack of a bond at least).

This might be a me thing I don't know, but growing up with friends from childhood made me realise I picked up behaviour traits from them and they in returned picked up some behaviours traits from me as well (Ofc this is something that still is happening with current friends as well). And I'm thinking about this and how funny it would be with Kalim and Jamil, since they grew up together. It'd be funny if they ended up picking up behaviour traits from each other without even knowing because it's all just subconscious decisions.

Like what if Jamil ends up doing something stupid that normally would've been done by Kalim, and Kalim ends up responding to that in a sarcastic tone just like how Jamil would've if Kalim done it (ex: "Wow, what a smart move" after witnessing something stupid). Usually Jamil tells Kalim to shut up after and Kalim laughs about it, but they don't realise they are subconsciously mimicking each other and have been for who knows long until someone points it out like "What the fuck, did you guys switch bodies or something?".

I think they would've first been like "No? We've always been like this", but then Jamil slowly starts putting pieces together, wide eye and goes: oh my god, I've wanted to get AWAY from this guy. What do you MEAN instead I started copying the things he does because we're around eachother for that long. And Jamil just silently loses it and starts over analysing everything he does/did questioning if he picked it up from Kalim.

Meanwhile Kalim just goes "Ohhhhh that makes a lot of sense now" since Kalim has been told before he ends up making backhanded remarks on accident before and now finally knows it's because he picked it up from Jamil 😭

Even if Jamil doesn't want to admit it, this kinda proves that their bond is stronger than it seems. Mimicking eachother without knowing is basically like you carry a part of the other person with you where ever you go until it eventually becomes your own as well.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

I always loved the time loop theory because of the angst potential for yuu/mc. I feel it would make the most sense for the loop would start after yuu comes to twst.

So yuu is currently stuck in a loop for who knows how long, but what happens when they figure out the truth? Or when they break free from the loop? If they find a way back home?

It would all be different. Only nrc is affected so if yuu ever finds a way back, depending on how many loops they went through, maybe it’d be like 10 years? 20? 50? Idk I just can’t help but think of how angsty that would be.

For yuu, they’d be there for about a year, only to come home and see that the world has moved on without them, their friends and family accepted long ago that they will never find out what happened to them.

Coming home to see their parents much older, if they had any younger siblings, they’re now older than yuu. Their friends now grown up and living out their lives. Older relatives/family long gone…

There’s just a lot of ideas with this time loop theory that I love to look into

Oooh yess and there's a few lil ideas/twists i also thought of to add onto this! Especially with book 7 where you can see in peoples dreams. Minor spoilers? Just in case

Imagine a Yuu that talks to the seven in their dreams/the mirror. I mean they're getting dreams from somewhere right? Something something, a deal where Yuu has to bring them intel or help them get a body in exchange for their help/powers/whatever. Them coming back from the dead in the mirror after each failed attempt to save everyone. All of them saying some form of "you cant save everyone kid" just for Yuu to say they will and try again stubbornly.

Imagine in book 7 when everyone sees Yuus 'dream' which is just them in their headspace begging the 7 for just one more chance cause they got so close to saving everyone this time and getting them their bodies back. The shock of Yuu knowing the seven and what they've done to try to save them.

A yuu realizing throughout each time loop that they are the reason they can't save everyone. For everyone to have a happily ever after they must die or bargain. Maybe they can erase themselves from everyone's memories afterwards so it doesn't hurt as much.

Grim insists there was someone else in his exclusive dorm. Deuce swears he learned this studying technique somewhere but doesn't remember... Ace knows there's someone missing in the crowd at his game... hmm. Cater looking at some class photos and there's an empty space... Characters like Jamil or Riddle or Leona swearing they had someone to talk to and they're not there...

Bonus if they slowly remember them or see their shadow wandering about. How they try to follow or talk or reach out to them but they're not there. (been playing DDV and something very similar happens there so this could be a thing in TWST too and even be related to the seven...)

A Yuu on their last leg about to attempt something drastic in their next loop, hands shaking as they steel themselves to fight at the entrance ceremony.

A Yuu who's dream happily ever after is to die.

A Yuu that accumulated so much blot through time loops they're dying from it– they're the final boss. The blot itself. Yet, despite their overblot form and all the destruction at their fingers tips, they just sit there between it all, wanting to relax in their final moments.

An overblot Yuu that's being puppeteered and forced to fight against their friends even though it's so painful...

An overblot Yuu whose final attack is to latch onto someone– anyone– to hug in their final moments.

A Yuu that just wants to be understood throughout each loop.

And maybe DDV Yuu themself. Someone that was forced to be a ruler at such a young age that they never had enough time to be a child– seeing that child in their dream having to manage a whole kingdom and being relied on for everything and all the terrible mistakes their kid self made when they just wanted to dissapear and even how some members of the seven treated them so horribly. Their magic comes from helping others and yet they can't help themself.

[silkkorchid]

What went down in TWST RP in a week-

Covers 3/24 - 3/29

Malleus insulted and hurt more people, even the people he loves. He got some personal beef to settle…

Sebek and his mother made their grand enterance onto Tumblr!

Lilia has sneak into Sebek’s account and posted some of Sebek’s baby pictures.

Lilia put a bar of soap in a pot that Sebek and Silver were cooking with. Rest in peace Diasomnia…🙏

Rumors have it that Sebek has a crush on a human! Shocking! He always said he despises humans but, look at that twist!

Sebek meets his future child, and he stop working for a bit. Just don’t look at the family drama that occurred.

Diasomnia’s Laundry Room got a bubble issue.

NRC host club has been gaining attention and popularity since the debut of their newest member!

Kalim met his future child like majority of the boys have.

Jamil came back after two days of not doing anything. (Suspicious)

Leona is now with his former ex-girlfriend! And there are already bets made…

Ruggie future child is speaking some unknown language, I think nobody in Twisted Wonderland knows.

Idia setting up his future children up for adoption after them saying anime is mid…

Rollo came back after 10 days, should we even tell him about what happened?

As everything unfolds, most of NRC staff and clubs are currently relaxing and looking at the chaos that been happening-

NRC Garden Club has something to settle with Mrs. Rosehearts…

Fellow made an account, along with Gidel… THOSE TWO WOODEN PUPPETEERS!!