#twisted wonderland jade leech x reader

[oepionie]

—"🍳KITCHEN BLUES"various

💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link

sypnosis: you wouldn't really call yourself a chef. at most, your culinary abilities were barely above average. even so, when your boyfriend becomes overworked, you take your chances and cook something up for him. here's to hoping you don't burn down the entire dorm!

⊹ [ cw ] — slight mentions of injuries, ramshackle's oven is set on fire◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | protective jade, lighthearted mentions of marriage in ruggie's part, leona's back muscles whsg, jamil calls you قلبي 'Albi' (My Heart)◞

⊹ [ character/s ] — trey, leona, ruggie, jade, & jamil

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.5k+◞

You stare blankly at the ingredients set out before you. The words on the recipe you printed seemed to blur together. Rice noodles, honey, smoked paprika, roasted almonds—you had your job cut out for you, huh?

You turn to face your partner who was dozing off on the rickety couch at Ramshackle, a thin blanket haphazardly thrown atop his body. He looked to be in deep sleep, not minding the worn-out scratchy leather texture of the couch one bit.

Tensed shoulders and fatigue laced his muscles; both evidence of the strain he's been putting on himself as of late. With an ache in your heart, you return your focus to the sizzling pan. Making him lunch was the least you could do to help.

Halfway through preparing the bento, you heard the old couch creak. Your boyfriend finally wakes, he calls for you with bleary eyes and a hoarse voice.

"Prefect?"

✩— TREY CLOVER:

"Oh, you're awake?" You rush over to him, dropping the lunch box onto the counter. Concern laced your features as you pressed a palm against his flushed forehead. Trey sat up, the blanket slipping off his torso and pooling around his hips.

"Mhm. Is something wrong?" Trey chuckled, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

"Yeah. This fever of yours is worrying me." You grumbled as you reached for his glasses on the adjoining coffee table. You slipped it onto him and gave him a quick kiss on the nose.

"The unbirthday party is coming up, and you know I have to work extra hard." Trey sighed, rolling his stiff shoulders. Nodding, you silently slipped back into the kitchen to retrieve the bento box. Once you returned, you handed it over to him.

"I know, but I hope you still take the time to rest every now and again." Trey tucked the box under his arm and drew you into a hug. You melted into his embrace, savouring the warmth you'd been missing these past few weeks. He's been so busy that the only affection you've received from him was the ocassional peck on the cheek.

Ten seconds into your little respite from the world, Trey pushed you away with a hand on your shoulder. He sniffed the air, brows pinched.

"Is something on fire?"

"Sevens-! The tarts!"

You clutch a plate of charred black tarts in your hands, head bowed down in shame. Trey chuckled and took a piece of the inedible lump, turning it around in his hand.

"This reminds me of Lillia's cooking."

"You're not helping!"

✩— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Leona sat on the couch, tail swishing lazily in the air while he watched you work around the kitchen. His emerald gaze swept over your apron-clad body, noticing the honey smeared on your cheek.

Once you finished, you walked over to him with the meal on a tray.

"How was the spelldrive training with the freshmen?" You asked, taking a seat on the floor beside him. He raised his arm to use his elbow to remove the honey off your cheek.

"It was shit." Growling, Leona pushed himself off the couch. He stretched his arms, groaning as his muscles ached from the burn. He was turned away from you, giving you full view of his back muscles straining against the fabric of the tight black shirt he had on; you averted your eyes, suddenly feeling very warm.

"See anything you like?" He grinned and flexed his arms. You squeaked and jumped back, embarrassment written all over your face. "Leona!"

He chuckled as he pulled you off the floor and onto the couch next to him.

"A-Anyways…Epel told me you stormed out in the middle of the game?" You stammered, avoiding his gaze and changing the subject. You scooped some food from the containter and fed it to him. Leona took the spoon in his mouth, chewing it throughly.

"Damn right. None of those idiots could fly straight if their life depended on it." Leona scoffed. You lifted the tray up so he could slip his head onto your lap, face tucked into your stomach.

"I see. I guess they couldn't keep up with you, huh?" You mused, running your hands through his hair whilst feeding him a bite of food.

The flavours and spices melted across his mouth, each ingredient flawlessly blending together. Leona relaxed against your form, satisfied, your food and pampering making him feel like a king.

"Who can?"

✩— RUGGIE BUCCHI:

"Is that food?" Ruggie piped up, wrapping himself in the thin blanket. He was shaped like a taco roll, with only his head sticking out from under the cover. You chuckled and nodded, taking the food you prepared into your arms.

As you brought out a platter of doughnuts along with the bento box, his tail began to wag. You approached him carefully, taking care not to drop the stacks of chocolate doughnuts. Unbeknownst to you, Ruggie was debating whether or not to marry you on the spot.

"Of course. You just looked so exhausted yesterday, I wanted to help." You said, frowning and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Ruggie gulped, his cheeks flushing at your sweet gesture.

"What did I say about slowing down every now and then?" You grumbled, frowning at him.

"W-Well, I kinda lost track yesterday; I swear I won't do it again," Ruggie replied sheepishly, folding his arms behind his head. In truth, you were kinda right. His limbs were killing him with how sore they were right now.

"You better! I can't keep scolding you about this again and again!" You shook your head and sighed. After giving him the platter of doughnuts, you began slipping off the apron you were wearing.

"Shishishi. You sound like a worried spouse." Ruggie snickered, shoving two doughnuts into his mouth. You dropped the apron in your hand, eyes wide at the implications of what Ruggie just said. Snorting at your flustered state, he continued teasing you.

"Spare me! I'm sure you'll have plenty of time in the future to scold me." Ruggie's voice suddenly lowered to a whisper, the playful edge to it gone. "I should prolly start putting off money up for a ring now…"

"Wh-What?!"

✩— JADE LEECH:

"What might this be?" Jade appeared behind you, his towering form pressing itself against your back. An arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him. His hair remained dishevelled and out of place, his physique still sluggish and lethargic. Jade, contrary to popular belief, was not a morning person.

"It's just a simple little bento I'm preparing…Azul told me you skipped out on dinner last night so I um-" Feeling flushed under his intense yet drowsy gaze, you struggled to finish your sentence. "…decided to cook something up for you."

Jade hums, grasping your hands in his own. He instantly pauses as he feels the texture of scratchy woven fabric beneath his skin. The eel looked down to see your hands covered with sloppily placed bandages and bandaids.

He stared down at your damaged hands for a minute, an unsettling smile creeping up his face.

"Who did this." Jade stated firmly, a dark, pointed expression on his face. His fingers rubbed soothing circles over your palm, patiently waiting for your response. "I need names, my pearl."

You fiddled with one of the bandages wrapped around your finger.

"No one did this. I'm just not really the best person to put near a kitchen knife or a pan with boiling oil." You laughed sheepishly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Jade chuckled alongside you. All previous apprehension from him seemed to fade away.

"I see. I appreciate the gesture however I wish you were more careful." Jade leaned down next to your ear, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

"Allow me to take care of you first, these bandages are in dire need of a change."

✩— JAMIL VIPER:

"Albi?" Jamil groaned, raising his arms to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. He sat up and instantly regretted his decision when his head started spinning; he could already feel the start of a migraine. You rushed over and shushed him, pushing him to sit back down on the couch.

"Are you okay?" Frowning, you plopped the box open and scooped up some food for him to eat. Jamil leaned forward to take it into his mouth, humming at the taste.

Yesterday's events began to resurface in his mind. He was given a potionology assignment to complete alongside Kalim.

Everything was going smoothly until Kalim made the decision to add some sugar to the cauldron for unknown reasons. The cauldron exploded and Jamil ended up getting hit with the fumes, breathing it in. Which was probably the reason why his head felt like it was being split open.

"A bit. If my memory serves me well, the effects of this potion should wear off in a few hours." He mumbled, allowing himself to get fed by and spoiled by you. You smiled and reached for a napkin to wipe down the corners of his lips. "That's good. Is the food to your liking?"

"It tastes great." Jamil compliments, taking the box into his own hands. "Thank you for looking after me; is there anything you want me to make for you?"

"That curry you gave me the other day! It tasted so good!"

"Of course." Jamil smiled at you. Regardless of the numerous hijinks he has to deal with as Kalim's retainer and Scarabia's vice dorm leader, you've always been an anchor of support for him; holding him firm when everything appears to be sweeping him away.

A/N: This was a request! Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

[local-ground-apple]

Jello hello could I request meeting Jade and Silver (separate) for the first time?

Sure ! I had so much fun writing this i am once again bullying sebek

You had one job.

Yet you failed splendidly and gracefully. Oh, and with a loud crash as well.

You got assigned with Sebek to do your history project. None of you two was thrilled about the mere prospect of working together. You both expressed your disgust and lack of will to cooperate to your professor, who only ignored your loud and intense pleads, leaving you two to deal with the situation.

After a long (and loud) rant from Sebek why he absolutely hated to be paired with a weak and magicless human and equally loud and annoyed speech from you; you both decided to suck it up, do the project as fast as possible and then never speak to each other ever again.

That agreement worked perfectly well for you. You were never fond of Sebek, mostly because he seemed to be always reminding you about your mortal form and lack of basic, magic knowledge. Oh, and he was constantly screaming, which only triggered you. So naturally you responded with even more aggressive yelling to establish dominance.

You two were supposed to meet up somewhere in Diasomnia dorm. Sebek had explained to you the route at least like 10 times, yet frankly, you felt quite lost the moment you stepped inside the enormous castle. It was quite dreary and dim. You couldn’t quite make out your surroundings, yet alone figure out in which part of the castle you were exactly.

You were lost and annoyed.

On top of this, you were carrying a bag filled with various books that could be needed for the research and they were extremely heavy. Not only you were stranded somewhere in the dark castle that seemed quite scary to you, but you also had the additional weight. You sighed heavily, cursing Sebek in your mind.

,,That annoying, loud, green, insolent, bloody lizard”

You muttered under your nose, as you dragged yourself and your bag through another, never-ending stairs. Of course, he couldn’t pick you up after classes and walk with you to the common room of Diasomnia. No, he had to force you to find your way through it.

You swore mentally to yell at him the moment you finally find him. You planned quite long and elaborate rant filled with various arguments why it was such a douchebag move to leave you alone to find your way through the castle.

You took yet another step, silently praying that this staircase ends soon, as you were too tired and too exhausted to deal with this. Your prayers didn’t seem to be listened to. No, instead you were about to get a heart attack of the century.

,,Oya, Little One, what are you doing in this part of the castle ?”

A slightly confused, yet cheerful voice sounded right behind you, as you felt a warm breath tickling your skin, making every single hair on your skin stand from the sheer surprise. You let out a startled yelp, as you dropped the bag from your hands, spinning on your heel to see the person behind you. As you were greeted with Lilia Vanrouge hanging upside down, dangerously close to you, your heavy bag fell down the stairs with a loud crash.

You facepalmed, as you sighed heavily.

,,Well, maybe now this idiot will find me”

You muttered quite annoyed, as you eyed the scattered book at the end of the staircase. Great, now you would have to walk down once again to get them. You were positive that you were going to fight Sebek today out of pure annoyance with that god forsaken knight.

Lilia titled his head, looking at you in amusement, as he finally appeared right by your side. His eyes rested on your figure, as he was carefully observing you. He was more than aware that you were supposed to visit Diasomnia dorm today; after all he had granted Sebek’s request to let you stay here for few hours. He certainly didn’t expect that his fellow student would leave you on your own to find the way.

,,My, my, what a mess. I suppose I will have to talk with Sebek, however first we need t-“

Lilia’s words were cut by another voice that seemed a tad bit sleepy. Almost as if that person was abruptly woken up from a deep sleep.

,,Did something happened ? Oh, old man…”

You squinted your eyes, as you tried to make out the figure standing at the bottom of the staircase. Frankly, you were quite dazzled, as you held your breath for a moment. The man standing before you was simply stunning. His slightly disheveled, silver hair seemed to sparkle in the dim light of candle lights; as silky strands gently adorned his pale face. He was slightly rubbing his eyes, trying to wake himself up, as he tried not to yawn. Your eyes rested on his muscled arms, as he bend down to start picking up the books scattered.

,,Oh, Silver”

Lilia’s cheerful tone of voice brought you back to reality. You violently shook your head, stopping yourself from daydreaming about Silver, as you rushed down the stairs to help him pick up the books. You opened your mouth to attempt to convince him that he didn’t need to help you and that you could clean up after yourself, yet he stopped you, his words once again knocking out your breath.

,,Oh, and who are you ?”

He asked softly, as a smile lips graced his lips. Before you had a chance to respond, Lilia cut in. He was currently leaning casually against handrail, as he watched you two clearly amused.

,,It’s Y/n, Sebek’s friend”

That’s it. You had enough. At the mere mention of your classmate’s name and the word “friend” in the same sentence, you felt your blood boil. You clenched your fists, as a scowl appeared on your face.

,,I’m definitely not Sebek’s friend”

You stated firmly, rolling your eyes. Lilia only laughed in response, totally dismissing you. You could feel Silver’s curious gaze on your form. Quite bizarre, he had never heard his old man refer to someone as Sebek’s friend. He was positive his fellow colleague wasn’t able to form any relationship with anyone, given his difficult personality and loud demeanor. It seemed that you weren’t the exception.

As you and Lilia started bickering, Silver pondered for a brief moment. Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…Your name seemed familiar. He was sure he had never seen you before, apart from brief glance during your unexpected arrival when you managed to shock everyone. Perhaps he was too sleepy to properly remember your face.

And then he connected the dots, as he finally remembered one thing.

Recently, Sebek had been nagging a lot more than normally, making sure to rant about certain someone to Silver. Obviously, it was you who were doomed to do a group project with Sebek. Silver felt bad for you, you seemed like a nice person who didn’t deserve to put up with his colleague.

,,Oh, Silver ! Would you be a dear and guide our lovely Little One to common room. Sebek must be waiting for them”

Silver only nodded in response, as he took the bag filled with books, despite your vivid protests to carry it for you.

,,Of course, here, follow me”

You’ve always stayed neutral and avoided every mess that Yuu with his friends ended up creating. You didn’t interfere in Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw drama, not even bothering to help prefect of Ramshackle dorm to stop the overblots.

You preferred not taking part in anything that could potentially be dangerous, avoiding anyone who seemed shady or strange (which basically meant like most of the students).

However, Yuu bargaining away Ramshackle dorm where you also stayed was the last straw that made you snap.

You clenched your fists, sighing heavily in frustration, when you were literally kicked out of your room. You didn’t even bother listening to Yuu’s explanations.

You were surrounded by idiots. That you knew earlier, however you never expected your prefect to lack so many braincells.

By idiots who weren’t even capable of handling such “simple issue”, as you had phrased it. In your eyes, the whole situation was quite easy to resolve and you weren’t listening to Yuu who declared that you were going on a war with something way more serious than you had anticipated.

,,I need to talk with Azul. Now.”

Your voice was firm and determined. Jade raised an eyebrow, as his lips cracked a smile in amusement. He certainly didn’t expect to see you here out of all people. Even Azul didn’t include you in his plans and equations, expecting you to ignore whole situation and lay low.

Oh, how wrong was he.

,,Ohh, is this angelfish?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes hearing Floyd’s nickname. Frankly, you didn’t have the time nor mental energy to deal with his bullshit right now. You impatiently tapped your foot on the floor, as you crossed your arms on your chest, trying to appear more irritated and intimidating than you were in reality.

You earned only an amused chuckle from Jade, who was enjoying the situation a tad bit too much. He had never expected aloof and quiet student of Ramshackle to personally waltz to Mostro Lounge and demand an appointment with Azul without scheduling it earlier.

,,I need to talk with Azul”

You repeated. This time, Jade could sense tiredness, frustration and a bit of urgency mixed together in your tone of voice. You were quite tired, he supposed judging by your slightly disheveled hair, wrinkled uniform and dark bags under your eyes.

It was quite understandable.

After all, you were just an ordinary human who had no magical knowledge prior to attending this school. It wasonly natural that you would be trying your hardest to understand material and keep up with your classes, which would explain your visible lack of sleep.

However, Jade wasn’t letting his guard just yet.

Something seemed off about you.

Perhaps it was a mischievous glint in your eyes, barely visible to anyone else apart from him. Jade only noticed it, because he could spot the same spark staring right back at him in the reflexion of his mirror.

You may have been just a mere mortal who could be easily overpowered by Floyd, however Jade wasn’t planning to underestimate you just yet.

,,I’m afraid Azul isn’t able to see you right now”

You huffed in annoyance. Of course, he wouldn’t be able. Jade’s polite smile only seemed to widen at your discomfort.

Thankfully, you came prepared.

You glanced back, slightly tilting your head to your right, before your eyes were again focused on Jade’s figure. He raised one of his eyebrows slightly, asking you a silent question, yet you only smiled at him in response.

Something definitely was off about you.

Jade was positively right.

A mere second later he had heard a loud crash resonating through the whole Mostro Lounge accompanied by few other, concerningly loud sounds of something falling to the ground, disrupting the peace. The way your eyes slightly flashed with a glint of determination were enough to tell Jade that you were the one behind them.

He briefly glanced at his twin brother who was more than eager to go check out the situation and deal with any eventual intruders. Normally they would rush there without any hesitation. However, this time Jade stopped himself for a brief second.

He had never considered you to be a formidable foe. In his eyes, you could never pose a real threat to him or his brother. They would easily take you down in a fight, given their superior strength and abilities.

Yet his instinct told him that he shouldn’t underestimate sleep-deprived, stressed and desperate student from different world. Especially since they never observed you to estimate your abilities.

You seemed like a wild card to him.

,,Floyd, would you care to check out that noise?”

Jade asked politely, nodding his head in the direction of his brother who was more than eager to do what he was asked to. After all, he had sensed another opportunity to squeeze some poor, unfortunate souls and he was than happy to oblige.

Jade’s eyes never left your figure. You didn’t move in the slightest. You stood your ground confidently with a soft smile gracing your lips, as you crossed your arms over your chest. He returned your smile, quite proud of himself.

Checkmate.

Your desperate, yet foolish attempt to distract him and slip past him to Azul’s office failed splendidly. Jade sensed that perhaps if they played their cards right, there was a chance you would return after few days in even worse state and Azul would be able to strike a beneficial deal. Of course, after doing throughout research about you. Checking your patterns, routines, habits and preferences to determine how to bribe you into signing a golden contract.

At the mere thought, Jade let out an amused chuckle.

You only titled your head, pretending to be slightly confused.

,,What is so funny, hmm?”

Oh, what a bold creature you were. In Jade’s eyes you were just a delicate angelfish who was foolish enough to confront a big, bad eel. Quite amusing. He would definitely convince Azul to coerce you into a contract.

,,Excuse my behavior. That was quite a nice attempt, I’m afraid it won’t work as you had predicted”

Jade stated calmly, as his grin slightly widened. You didn’t falter.

No, your expression seemed to change a tiny bit. Not everyone would be able to see the way your eyes glinted, as you struggled not to let out an amused chuckle. You shook your head, almost as if you were dismissing his previous statement.

Something seemed off about you.

Yet before Jade even had a moment to ponder over this question, you cut the distance between the two of you, standing dangerously close to the man before you. He didn’t seem alert, since he was sure he would overpower you easily if you tried to force your way through him. He was more amused, as he once again raised his eyebrow, eyeing you carefully.

,,You’re quite the confident one, aren’t you?”

You mused, as you didn’t move a muscle.

Something seemed off about you.

Jade was sure of this.

You had no impulse control and you didn’t seem to be aware of the consequences of your actions. You were playing with fire, tempting him and testing his limits. If Jade wasn’t so focused on your expression, perhaps he would notice the way you were slightly trembling. From fear or maybe from excitement, you weren’t quite sure. Adrenaline was running through your body, as you were counting seconds in your brain, anticipating the perfect moment in your risky and bold plan.

You were prepared to execute the final blow and reach your goal.

You were desperate and determined enough to do it.

Taking a deep breath, not waiting for Jade to respond, you gripped tightly the hems of his jacket, as you abruptly pulled him down. Before he had a chance to react and grab your wrists to stop you, you pressed your lips against his, knocking a breath out of him. Jade’s eyes widened, as you had managed to catch him off guard. His hands reaching out in your direction to push you away stopped midway in the air, as his surprised form didn’t dare to move a muscle.

You were kissing him desperately, pouring all your emotions into it. You bit down on his lip, earning a shocked yelp. However, the pleasant feeling was soon replaced with bittersweet pain spreading in his kneecaps.

You kicked him, quite hard, while your lips were still pressed against his.

Then, you abruptly pulled away, as you slipped through his confused form that was trying to regain his composure. Jade had reached for you, yet you were faster, avoiding his hands with grace, spinning around as you sprinted towards the door handle of Azul’s office.

,,I got in! EVERYONE SCATTER”

You yelled, glancing one last time behind you. Your eyes fell for a brief second on Jade and you gave him last one wink, as you forcefully yanked the door, entering inside to face surprised, yet impressed Azul.

[rel124c41]

SUNDO. jade leech

This is the beginning: you walk into Osaka Bay, sound asleep.  This is the end: you are dragged into Osaka Bay, wide awake … and screaming.

tags: japanese mythology & folklore, religious imagery & symbolism, yokai AU, attempted rape/non-con, inspired by Den lille Havfrue by Hans Christian Andersen, sleepwalking, yandere, blood and gore, immortality, declaration of love, did andersen want to fuck fish? i think so!

word count: 9,114

Timid, you step into the water. 

Behind closed eyelids, the muscle and nerves of your eyeball flicker like insect wings. Your eyelashes may rest delicate in the closed oyster position but your eyeballs move alert underneath the thin skin. 

By closing your eyes, it allows you to see a new world. Sight often blocks and trumps other sensations. With purpose, you narrow yourself to reflect upon the touch of a breeze, the sound of cicadas, and the shape of water embracing your ankles. You spread yourself out, imaging yourself in the wind, and then your eyes pulse under your eyelid skin. 

You fly deeper into the lake with a yell of, “I see you!” And suddenly, you shrink down to the size of a six year old child from your adult body, missing your top left canine tooth and wearing a kimono pattern with abstract art of yellow squares and violet rectangles.

In the water, a boy laughs and says, “That can’t be true!”

“Yes it is!”

“But your eyes are closed!”

Eager hands squirm and dive through the water. Fingers reach out like hawk talons, squeezing unsqueezable water. In your hark of the earth, you hear the fierce splashes of you punching into the water to grab your friend. Laughing, you trip over yourself, falling breast first in water, managing to pick yourself up in time just as the lake licks at your throat. Three different voices laugh at you but you only hunt for one.

“I swear, I see you!”

“No way!”

In your attentiveness of your surroundings, you feel the smile that grows on your face. Water leaps up at your cheeks like sparks of a fire. When you laugh, salt slips in your mouth. Suddenly, you change angles and reach to your right instead of your left. The water there moves in a panic. Laughing, you bring up both your hands, readying to push them into the water. 

The sun is warm. The water is cool. From the tree, in the breeze, thousands of leaves say in one voice,  “My little Muyūbyō. My little sleepwalker. You are going too deep.”

“Mom?”

The hanging leaves are green and lush. “You’re going too deep, (Name).” 

You wake up. The rainbow of ways one can wake up is endless and numerous. However, no one really considers waking up to be a varying, changeable state of things. Each unique rise into the waking realm differs slightly.

Today, you wake up like a crab has pinched firmly the tendon running down your upper hamstring. Today, you wake up shin-deep in the lake. Your mother is right. You are going too deep. The water usually stays up to your ankles. The sight greatly disturbs you and your hamstring tendon drums with the full body pain.

That boy. You wonder on the identity of that young boy. Why could you not catch him if you had him right in your sight? Your seeing varies often; sometimes the world is as clear as newly polished glass and other times you are trying to look through a looking glass that is grime and sand stained. His voice – his voice was almost as familiar as your mother's warning. 

Eyes enucleated, you would always know your mother’s voice. 

Backpedaling, you move and watch until the embrace around your legs slides down goosebumped skin and lies quivering around your ankles.

You look at the sunrise peering over the lake. Hinode starts the upward ascend, pink and orange light falling over the world. Water almost shimmers around your ankles with the welcome benevolence of the rising sun. 

Yet with its welcome comes the banishment of the only company you have. Well, for the most part. Even the mischievous kappa, river spirits, will vanish with the sun. You look for them nonetheless, knowing you make sure to fall asleep with cucumbers in your nightwear; food for the yokai, just to certain their volatile hungers are quelled. 

You — 

You have always been able to see yokai. 

Your parents have called you blessed because of it. As a sleepwalker, you are closer to the spirit world than the normal, spirit-blind citizens of the island Kyushu. Despite being blessed, your parents kept your habit of sleepwalking out of the village’s hippocampus — as they would surely see it as a mark of possession. 

So much for parental precaution, you are already seen as the village’s resident boogeyman even without them knowing you move in nightly rest. 

Perhaps it is a fault of your own.

Perhaps the blame lies on your parents.

You can pinpoint where it went wrong though. Since the incident, you have known you would be kindred to the boogeyman. Despite all the piling up evidence, there is no clearly given perpetrator. Who does the blame of the crime go to for being a boogeyman against one’s will? The crime of that day and then the crime of being yourself. You: eldritch evil in human clothings.

Sekia (the walking world) and ikai (the ‘other’ world), you walk between those and that is a crime. 

You would never point the fingers at your God though. The very thought of it makes your stomach tighten like rope and you press your palms flat into your abdomen to resist the urge to puke. God, your last remaining parent.

Shinto is an indigenous faith in Japan but you are born of a time period far too back to even toy with the idea of calling it indigenous. Shinto believes that one is born fundamentally good but struggles with evil spirits. You are born with a mark of evil. Born bad, you defy the religion you preach, practice, and love as if it is an old friend. 

Despite that, where you live is in a Shinto shrine, atop a mountain, by a lake. 

And, with a frown blemishing your pretty face, you look behind, up at the mountain you have to climb to go home. 

Behind the Shinto shrine is a clothesline for drying cottons and silks. It stretches, a pinned butterfly wing, from tree to tree. All that hangs from them is only wet at the bottom. You squeeze the bottom of the nightwear you put there the previous day. Still damp. Ah, if only the elevation was not so high up. This would dry up quicker if I was living off the mountain. It is April and spring is ushering in. Still, it is mildly cold at the isolated point where you live.

You do not think you could stomach the air down in the village. Thin air is all you know. Adapting to glutinous air would be like drowning on land, a paradox regarding your lungs. You pull your nightwear off the skin covering your twin lungs, one hand on each tomoerio of the yogi.  

It gathers delicately around your hamstrings before you pull it around the crook of your elbow. Straightening it out, you add the damp fabric to the clothesline. One arm cupping your nude breasts, you compare the height of water to previous nightwear. There is slight discoloration, the bottom a dark gray and navy blue and the rest white and blue as cornflower. 

You tense when you look down the clothesline. Finding by one by one that the height of damp decreases in a staircase pattern. It would make sense. Ones that have been on the clothesline longer would be less soaked. But you know better.

You have been going deeper. You have no idea why but you have been walking deeper into the lake.

When you were very young – on the journey to turn two years old in a month or so – you were found in the lake. Above, in the mountaintop, horrified, mournful screams stabbed the air. Your name – screamed with tears and fright in each letter – soared like a tengu bird. Sleeping upright, you were unaware until a hand grabbed you and wrenched you back into the world. 

“(Name). Oh my, (Name), my baby!”

When your fretful mother realizes years later that you cannot stop sleepwalking, she only asks one thing of you: to not go deeper than your ankles. You claw at the softest on your chest to get your heart to stop pounding so fretful. Next time, you will reel yourself back before you disobey.

There are a hundred eyes peeking through the paper sliding doors and a trail of footsteps that are too petite to be yours trailing across the cypress wood floors of your home. These are curing images to your heart. 

With a smile and hum, you trail a finger across the wall. Multiple eyes blink at the motion like a herd of butterfly wings twitching at a breeze. Leaving behind wet, much larger footprints, you walk through the Shinto shrine to your bedroom. It is time to dress for the arising sun. The sticky smell of stale sulfur and sea trails after you. The yokai of your father’s Shino shrine welcome this familiar scent.

You never had any childhood friends. Quite a desolate thought, yes? Not entirely for you. Never having childhood friends, you cannot sensibly yearn for it with a desperate longing or be saddened by the statement. You never had any childhood friends.

For some reason, you have false snippets of a sekai, a waking world, with a childhood friend with one sun eye and one moon eye. Blended between the realities like you are. And an odd shattered dream made by your hippocampus made of yearning you do not have.

Origami is today’s shared activity. With slices of colored paper the boy has gifted you, you take to folding them into numerous animals. Creasing paper between your fingers and pinching edges with your nails. You work diligently on yours, spine facing the mountain. 

You squish down the snake-head-shape the paper has fallen into until you get the diamond you want. With a prideful smile, you continue, fold by fold. You pull bottom up and get an open mouth; when you push both edges inward, you get the squashed wings done, halfway there.

Spine facing the lake, your companion continues on with his. His nails are whetted like a cleaver so he gets preciser and cleaner edges with his origami. Despite the fact he could make something more challenging, his design is simpler and less complicated than yours. He is just finishing up the tail by folding the right corner of the tiny triangle into the middle. 

“Azul’s been making a lot of frogs. He says each frog he makes is another coin his future self will soon have.”

“There must be a whole army of them by now then!”

“A militia is more appropriate. I worry one day he will find himself lying down in the grave he has made, drowning under washi paper. The folly of his want.” The boy says this with a facade’s frown; there is really no concern in his mannerisms. 

“You say that like you aren’t greedy.”

“Hm … not for things like money, other things.” 

You miss the way his eyes burn and shine because you are working on modeling the paper body of your animal. You enjoy your time spent with Jade, this fabricated friend your hippocampus made of the clay of your brain, dearly. 

“Food?”

“Ah … well, I suppose that is one of the other things.”

“What else are you greedy for?” You cannot fathom that Jade wants anything more to eat. He is very gluttonous like his brother and octopus friend besides his lithe, feminine frame. 

“For one thing –”

“Aha! Finished!” 

Eager and proud, you hold up the origami animal. Your creases and folds are not too pristine but the product of effort is still majestic. A crane. The bird said to live a thousand years. “Pretty isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Let’s switch ours.” Your hands make a grab for the origami fish in Jade’s hands.

“But it is the first time you have been able to make a crane successfully. Most people want to keep milestones.” He cannot fathom why you are so eager to share. “The crane should stay with you.”

“But I want to share it with my best friend.”

You wake up like the clap of a baseball in a mitt. Your eyes fly open as the baseball is thrown with a resounding bark of fetch, soaring like an arrow and returning to the second glove. A consciousness thrown between two gloves. The left side of your face feels numb and medicated.The water is up to your shins again, disobedient. Backpedaling without hesitation, you scratch at the side of your face. It feels like a cluster of barnacles are weighing down west facing skin.

You yawn as the sun, the hinode, comes up. A thousand years. What a long time; you could never fathom living such an infinite amount of time. Salt and grime staining your nightwear, you step onto the shore. You would never want to live a thousand years like this. 

Another never of yours? You never had any childhood friends. 

There are no absolutes in Shinto.

“This is impossible,” you whisper.

“There are no absolutes,” a man replies.

Somehow and someway, you are being wedded. Done with your fruitless attempts to open your eyes, you resign to verbally negotiating your way out of this lucid dream. You have to get out of here but the water has hardened to cement around your legs. You are unsure if this is a fabricated dream, a fabricated memory of a fake world, or if this is the ‘other’ world. Unsure of where you tread, you desperately want the sun to break apart this nightmare.

That is impossible. I am a miko. A miko must be unmarried. I am my father’s helper and I cannot be wedded.

The man replies to your thoughts: That is not true. You are not a miko. The priest is dead. You can be wedded.

No. I cannot wed.

The white kosode kimono covers over your skin like a constant itch. Somehow and someway, without opening your eyes, you know that you are wearing wedding attire. You feel the distribution of another set of legs in the lake. There is an awful weight on your finger. 

There are vows being spoken by a siren’s voice. A trickling scale on a piano voice. It feels oddly like you cannot create new memories. Your dreams and thoughts evaporate like trickling sand, stolen. Everything dwindles and moves away like retreating waves. 

Do you relinquish your immortal soul to this man?

Do you?

Do you?

“Yes.”

“My love, a snake is coming.”

You wake up, off-kilter. You fall immediately due to that poor balancing board provided by uneven rocks. With a gasp, your hands go out to catch you, splashes resounding as you kneel down in the water. Another fierce splash follows. You scream as you watch a mamushi dive into the water where you were standing. 

“Aa-Agh,” you gasp as you scramble up. “AH!” The world feels like trickling sand, all cascading down around you. A stumbling body turns wildly as the snake attacks. It bites the air and jumps in the water.

Its venomous fangs however are directed at the rising sun. Protectively, it attacks air. The mamushi does not attack you or your retreating, repeatedly falling form. You do not remember what you had just dreamed, pink sunlight on your back. 

The only evidence that the impossible happened are your fast, retreating footprints embedded into the shore. But even those washed away with the brine of water, trickling away, stolen.

Tiny footsteps litter the inside of your shrine. After so many years, the footprints have become an infestation comparable to cockroaches, a black sole and five dotting toes. Prints from a zashiki warashi, a ghost girl. They are only seen by children and the house’s owner, but they stay visible to you because you became the owner of the house when you stopped being a child.

Zashiki warashi are said to bring good fortune and be guardians of the house they inhabit. You have had no problems unlike the slight troubles you have had with the eyes in your home. However, a little otherworldly company does not bother you like human company.

Footprints unsourced from a tangible body and eyes unsourced from a tangible head. How odd that you have grown used to that.

You make sure to avoid stepping on the trails of footprints as you walk through the honden, the main sanctity. You notice that the ghost girl’s footprints seem to avoid the heart of the shrine. Behind a cupboard that is seldom opened lies your God, the heart, your last remaining parent. You pass the cupboard and make your way to a window. 

You watch the sunrise, contemplative. Sunlight intrudes in long rectangles and breaks the steady zig-zag lines of the zashiki warashi’s footprints. You kneel, clothed in wet nightwear, feet damp. 

You remember the day of your parents’ death. It was the only day you awoke in bed instead of ankle deep in water. Thinking you were cured, excitement fueled your feet to the entrance of your father and mother’s bedroom. Excitement skids and burns down to ash as you hold the paper sliding door open, looking upon an empty bed. 

It took only a few minutes to find them because even a fool could have guessed where this would end.

For some unlucky reason, you never slipped when walking down the mountain to the lake. Your mother worried it would happen so often. The image of your foot kissing and missing the ground. Like a ram miscalculating his step, you would plummet in her mind, body crunching and breaking as it ping-ponged down a dangerous slope.

Throat thick with salvia, you find them with a terrified cry. You press yourself tightly into a tree, weeping and screaming your miserable mind’s woes into the sekia.

Below you, they lie. Bodies bent like a cluster of twigs snapped for a fireplace and flesh smudged with blood and dirt. Bones point out elbows and knees, breaking the blanket of skin. Wrists and ankles are turned in unnatural positions. Their eyes stare up at the morning sky, the lilac pinks and blue amber of the sunrise like a colorful coffin above them. Up there, their God.

The incident made you the village’s boogeyman. Even if you were the good priest's daughter, their little blessing, the only suspect left for the crime was you.

“You were so wrong. I am not a blessing.” 

The window gives no reply. Done with the standoffish nature of the glass fixture, you stand up. The seaweed squishes under your feet, salt grinding into your soles. 

“And I am sorry that you were wrong.”

Lakes do not carry seaweed like this. 

There is a hand around my ankle.

You wake up. Not violently like the times where your dreams throw you and not softly like your dreams kiss your eyelids open. Instead, you wake up like you have already been awake. No disturbance. Miraculously, there is no disjoint between dreaming and waking. So there is no need to find your footing as you look down. 

You and a garappa stare at each other. His yellow eyes blink up at you, flicking water. Skin fern green and dotted with a dalmatian pattern of dark forest green is mostly submerged underwater. The only part of him that rises above the water is his snout and the webbed thumbnail around your right ankle.  

In your ribcage, your heart pounds hard like a frog moving to a lilypad before it settles completely. Your one heartbeat length terror came from a single thought: God, he is huge. 

Garappas and kappas can only be told apart by size. A garappa has limbs much longer than its twin, stretching out twice the typical size of a kappa. His entire arm is equivalent to your leg. Dizzy eyes track over his lengthy form. If he stood up, the estimated height would be about nine feet. 

Rocks may be under your feet but you feel like the ground is shifting sand, webbing itself through your reality. At least, the garappa seems to not be hostile right now. Who’s to say about later?

You look down at the hand embracing around your ankle. Distorted under the water, it looks like your ankle and his hand are off center from the goosebump flesh of your leg above water. Solid flesh, green contrasting to brown, ripples together in up and down motions. You are so dizzy.

Touch-taste senses are a peculiar faucet of aquatic life. Octopus can lay their suckers upon a prey and drink up the sweetness of fear like a butterfly with nectar. You wonder what kind of taste the garappa might be siphoning from cold pores.

“Foon foon foon.” The garappa says, mouth of his snout circling to form the soft Os. 

You do not fool yourself into thinking that is a friendly sound.

Garappas are elusive and cowards. This male might have been biding his time waiting for weeks of your sleepwalking to know if you were a threat or friend. To be caught by him and his inhuman strength means this was premedicated. Garappas are extremely fond of pranks and mischief, this you remember. 

But what are you forgetting?

“Foon foon foon,” he says again.

“Hoon, hoon, hoon,” you reply, trying to replicate the call of his. 

His eyes squint at you from behind the waving mass of black hair. It trails across his face like seaweed but his bright yellow irises are easy to spot among the ebony. His hold on you readjusts slightly at the sound of your voice, not tightening or loosening, just twisting around the indents of where your fibula and tibia met like someone using a pepper crusher.

There is definitely intelligence in those golden suns but that is not really the cause of unease. The unease comes from his size; the image you paint of him standing up and crowding over you. His legs would perhaps end where your collarbone starts.

Please do not stand up. Please do not stand up.

You wonder back to your taste. Would the spice of fear be hidden in the dish of your normal taste or would the spice of fear be an overpowering burn? The heart kept in your chest is very calm. It is tranquil as a sheep, resting in the dropped palpitations of sleep. Perhaps this is still a dream.

Then, the garappa starts to pull. It is a light, hesitant tug. When you hold firm, toes curling up to press tighter into the rocks underfoot, he lets up. His hold goes back to being concrete, unmoving even though the dilating ripples of water suggest different. You and him lock eyes again.

Then, the streamlined face vanishes and you are looking up at a sky of stars. You gasp as water hugs the back of your cotton yogi. A rock cushions your skull’s rapid descent and you wince. The hand on your ankle tugs and tugs.

As if the harsh kiss of the rock breaks a spell, you finally remember what you were trying to recount about the mischievous, prank-loving garappas. You look over the valley of your body, clothed in blue yogi nightwear, the supine side of you soaking wet, remembering. Garappas are known to be sexually aggressive. 

“DAMNIT!” 

Your arms move fast, grabbing at the sand and rock beside your chest, trying to lift yourself up. A fearful cry escapes you as the next tug disorients your arms and causes you to spill deeper into the lake. You watch wide-eyed as a webbed hand peels back the left side of your nightwear. 

“Cut it out! Get off me! Get off!”

Ripples of water jump around your struggling form. You were correct about his measurements. The entire arm is the size of your leg. He trails it up past the gray and blue camellia sewn on your garment. You scream as you feel the touch of soft tissue of webbed fingers on your inner thigh. 

A lucid part of you thinks the taste of your fear must be explosive.

You twist violently in the oppressing grip like a fish caught in a net. Chilled fingers grab at rocks around you, trying to pull yourself up onto shore. Your free leg kicks at the shoulder of the garrapa. Warmth blooms on your face when you are dragged again and a cut from ear to cheek is birthed. 

“Get the fuck off!” You scream as loud as a banshee. Around you, summer cicadas answer your cry with their own melody and you hear a foon foon foon, almost like a laugh bubbling under the water.

And, just as webbed fingers hover over the apple of your sex, the world falls still and silent. Even the everlasting cicadas stop for the only time in their life. In the bubble of unreal quiet, you stare over your body at the hand dug into the skull of the garrapa. 

The piscine hand is the color of tooth white. The knuckles are gradients of green bleeding off into an ebony black. You can tell because the only part of the hand that is not sunk into the garappa’s skull is a single thumb. The thumbnail is sharp as a knife, pressed in the mass of black hair. The arm trails down the neck and back of the garrapa and is indistinguishable under the black water.

You watch the garappa twitch. Still alive despite the four fingers bayonet through his head. His golden sun eyes stare at you as his hand moves down and wraps itself around your lower thigh. He squeezes hard as the four fingers press down, pull out, and press down once again, almost sensually erotic in their motions. 

“Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo.” 

You watch pleased as a trail of blood runs down the streamlined snout. Good. Die; never swim again; die-die-die!

Your respite is short lived as you are suddenly pulled down. A terrified cry rockets out of your throat. The hand burrow in the garrapa’s head stops in its descent back into black water, contemplative. The alive yet rigor-mortis grip is desperate and relentless on your thigh. 

“Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo-Fo.” The dying garrapa coos like the cicadas chirp. If I go down, I will take you with me.

His circular mouth falls still, an empty O. You watch as red rushes up in an inking squirt to the surface of the night lake. Then, with a breakneck speed, the garappa and pearl white hand disappear. The now blood-stained water rises and moves like scales as their interlocked bodies go under without another word.

The cicadas start to make noise again. The marble surface of the lake reshape back into its flat, glossy appearance. Just a different color. On trembling arms, you start to shift yourself to sit with your posture up straight. 

You glance down at the purling motions of your yogi. Under the cotton lies the amputated hand, torn at the shoulder, and now stuck on your thigh in true rigor-mortis. Mind blanking, you stand back up, ankle deep in red water. 

Latched garrapa arm swinging between your legs like a front facing tail, you walk out of the lake, soaking wet all over. 

You scrape yourself up the summit like a stubborn earthworm. Shaking hands grab familiar tree branches to hoist yourself. Frost-nibbled feet press hard into sediment to keep yourself up. At the top of the summit, just outside your home, the two lanterns of the entrance are lit. You shake harder and shiver harder with the cold. 

The lake is on the backside of the shrine, so you slowly round the building. Inch by inch, more of the entrance is revealed to you beyond the thumping glow of lanterns. Two stone lion-dogs, komainu, guard protectively under the gold. The long tongue entrance grows with each hesitant step you take. Resting your hand on the Shinto shrine, you look towards the offering hall. 

A man with silver hair kneels, hands clasped in prayer. His cheeks are tinted a pink from the chill of morning. 

“I am not taking prayers at this time, Sir. Please return another day.” 

The man does not startle at your voice in the same capacity that you startled at the sight of him. His words erode in his mouth before a smile pulls up his lips. You think his eyes are blue. It is hard to tell with glass obscuring them. He is wearing spectacles that look like the melted pattern of a tortoise shell.

“I did not know God was on a schedule. I suppose I can see why. The importance of transactions, why, those can keep someone quite occupied. I am a bit disheartened to see my deal is not worth His time.” The man’s smile is sympathetic like he knows you are suffering.

You grimace at your slip-up. Wanting to be inside, you round around the front porch area so you can meet with him at the entrance. You wonder what he must think of you, soaking wet, leaving behind puddles. “I’m terribly sorry, Sir. You may continue. I cannot offer the services of a Shinto shrine today however. My deepest apologies.” You bow.

“It is no worries. I just came to check if you were okay and make certain that you are.”

“If I’m,” your eyes flicker up in confusion. Straightening, you imagine your face must be the face of confusion like you are a spirit-blind person seeing yokai for the first time. Why would anyone? Does he not know you as the village boogeyman, someone that no one would dare check upon. “I’m quite fine, Sir.”

“Certain?”

“Certainly.”

The silver-haired man seems very pleased at that. Enough to the point where he stands up. Gratitude fills your lungs, almost relieving yourself of the chill. You hate that this is the first human interaction you have had in years and you are so happy to see it be gone.

Maybe you should try to be hospitable. That thought dies as you watch the man. Why, that is really curious – “Sir?”

“Yes?” His tone is acquiescent. 

“The direction to the village is that way.” You point past the torii gate and the two guardian lions. He had been rounding the front porch, walking in the damp footsteps you had left behind. The man blushes an even heavier pink at that. 

“Ah, my apologies,” he amends sheepishly. He stalks towards you and you wholeheartedly expect him to slip past. Instead, his presence surprises you for a second time. He grabs your salt encrusted hands and holds them dearly. “I am glad to see you in good health.”

You blank at the touch of his hands and go completely vacant at his sincere words. Like a stuttering fish, your lips move up and down wordlessly. Where did that even come from? “Do I know you?”

“I’m afraid not, godfather.”

He squeezes your hands and lets go. His spectacles are a beautiful pattern. The strange man walks off, towards the village, but his gait makes it look like he is walking in the wrong direction. You watch him until he vanishes into nothing. To make certain that he leaves.

Shaking and clenching your hands to get the blood-flow back to them, you enter the shrine. There are no armies of footprints waiting to greet you. You grow colder.

You are hot to the touch.

After such a grievous experience, you develop a fever as May births herself into the world, stabbing April to death. It lasts for a week longer than a normal fever should. Having to climb back up a mountain for an hour each morning is not any aid to the medicinal herbs you take. And now, when you want to rest, you cannot even do that. 

You have already taken the bath salts. Inhaling the cathinone crystals, you walk from one end of the shrine to the other end like the ghost of a sailor haunting/walking a shoreline. You sniffle each time you feel the tickle of the drugs in your nose. Walk. Walk. Walk. Do not fall asleep no matter what. 

Tonight is hyakki yagyo, because of course the night parade of one hundred demons falls upon the night you want to gain any semblance of rest after debilitating illness. The parades are inauspicious and untrackable. 

The hordes of eyes in your walls watch you walk, relatively close to make indents into the flooring by method of your repetitive pacing. Mokumokuren, that is what the eyes in your walls are, an infestation yokai. They take a fancy to inviting in other yokai instead of protecting as the little girl does … did. 

You can not risk going outside because of the yokai parade. Thus, due to your sleepwalking, you absolutely cannot fall asleep. People foolish enough to go outside during a hyakki yagyo or peek through their windows are killed or spirited away. It is considered divine punishment for looking upon that which must not be seen.

I have been looking upon yokai since my birth, would this parade really harm me? You never bother to test the floating theory, leaving it to trickle away until the next hyakki yagyo commences the following month. However —

“PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME! SOMEONE LET ME IN!”

You have never had someone pleading at your door on a night like this. The horde of eyes watch as you consider the bottle of drugs in your nightwear pocket. You only inhale the crystals to stay alert and awake during night but they do cause hallucinations.

“One of your friends,” you ask the cluster of eyes peering through a Swiss cheese wall. One blinks a wet, sticky eye at your question. Then all of them blink when the stranger outside your door starts pounding on the front door.

You hold your hands over your breasts anxiously. Inside the bottle, your drugs gleam like coarse Himiylaian sea salt under the one eye made of light. The lantern is your only company, you remind yourself, not a human or a yokai.

You are alone and will remain alone until death. 

It is probably an onmoraki at the door. A bird-like monster who has a talent for mimicking human voices. Onmorkai appear near temples, particularly in the presence of neglectful priests. It is almost too predictable of the yokai. Impiety needs no originality as all the old tricks have always worked.

You wish someone was here but you cannot remember their name. But you have always been alone?

Before you know it, your hand is opening the door. You stare down at the flesh like it is a foreign parasite, like a person stares at a leech after removing a limb from black lake water. When did you even – Why is your memory like this – Before you know, a sun and moon eye are staring down at you.

“Godfather! Priest!” You blank at the stranger’s jovial voice, completely singing a different tone when compared to his previous fright. He is frighteningly tall. “Oh thank God, you are here.” The man laughs. And with a flourish, he steps inside your shrine. 

“I – I –”

“Good priest,” you blank when the man gets on his knees. He grabs your hands and squeezes them tightly, holding them over the ring of his teal hair. “I am indebted to you. I swear I was almost killed because of those yokai. A garrapa came from the lake and tried to –”

“A-A garrapa?”

“Yes, good priest, but thanks to –”

You slam the door shut, wrenching your hands from the man. Slamming the door with the man now inside the shrine. Quickly, you turn and start to look for the materials to make a protective talisman. 

You miss the grin curling on your guest’s lips.“Not a fan of yokai, godfather?” 

The tone used this time is soft and worrying. You turn at the volatile changes of his voice. The man still kneels on the ground, downturned eyes following your movements. He is frowning sympathetically at you.

“Yokai – why I –”

“I’m not. Awful spirits. Killed my twin.”

“I can’t –” you trail off as you search the wooden box in the honden frantically. An honorific fuda should be in here — and — and you have bottles of ink inside your bedroom right! Just a simple protective ward to keep yokai out. You might miss the company of the eyes but you will make those sacrifices. A human hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it up from the mouth of the wooden box before you can grasp the card plate. 

“Ya didn’t answer my question. Not a big fan of yokai?” There he goes, switching his tone again. This time is deadly like he is barely concealing a thousand years of bottled up rage. 

“I –” You fumble with your words, feeling akin to a child being scolded. Is it psychosis from the bath salts or are you losing your mind – this feeling is so – his eyes are so familiar but also completely alien. “Just garrapas. I can’t with garrapas.”

My best friend’s a yokai. You think but do not vocalize it. Because it is a false thought caused by the bath salts and a faulty memory. 

He brightens up. “That’s good! That’s really good, priest. I just wanna check.”

“I’m so-sorry about being so erratic. I just —“

“A talisman. Don’t worry, I’ll help! My name’s Floyd, godfather!”

Your new acquaintance seems eager to leave minutes before the first fingers of pink and orange peer over the horizon. After calming down, the two of you shared tea and refused to look out the windows due to the parade. He is an eager talker, not letting conversation fall still at all. He talks like he has been wanting to talk to you forever. You are glad he wants to leave early despite the parade. A good priest would advise against it but you want him gone. 

Something about interacting with him is familiar yet alien. 

Cobalt skies turning more cerulean, you and Floyd take to walking outside. As he busies himself with petting your stone lion-dogs smugly, you carry a torch. Dark still lingers with hesitation. You banish a bit of it by lighting the torches by the torii gate. Orange dances on the ground like a wagging wave. 

Blanketed by shadows, you turn to look up at Floyd, standing behind you as you lit the last lantern. He is staring up at the gate. 

“Are you sure you will be alright leaving a whole hour before sunrise,” you contradict your own agenda with your words.

“Yeah, got to go check on my brother. Make sure he ain’t messin’ anything up.”

Wasn’t his brother killed? The orange from the second lantern dances like a snake. “Sir,” you hesitate when his eyes descend from the gate to you. “Do we know each other?”

“Course, little priest, I just spent all hyakki yagyo talkin’ with ya! Ahehe!” Then happily, the man walks off, down past the torii gate.

Inside the two lanterns, the fire stirs with his departure, locked in a swaying dance. 

The fire goes up like a mountain-climber. Wall to wall, it ascends like a sticky hand falling in reverse. In amber and scarlet waves, it weasels through the holes in the sliding doors and eats up the structure like a caterpillar on a leaf. Hypnotic and great, the fire acids through more and more of the Shinto shrine’s stomach.

You cannot live here anymore. You have known for a while these religious bowels held you in a painful kidney stone. 

Raising up the torch, you kiss it to the main scanatary’s wall and watch all the wood smolder. Man-made clouds of gray lie heavy on the ceiling, the finely tuned acoustics of the building rumbling with the crackles and pops. Onward, you move until you reach the heart of this system. The cupboard where the sacred object, cloaked in cloth like a newborn, represents your God.

You have no idea what the object could be. Your parents died before you turned sixteen and thus you never got to learn what the yorishiro, the sacred object, is. It could be a single comb or a paper crane or a child’s shoe. 

It does not matter when you raise up the torch, holding the flames so they may embrace the cupboard’s two doors. You hold it until fire successfully transfers. Then, as destruction curls over the piety, you leave the heart, walking down the vertebrates, until you reach the anus. 

Behind you, the Shinto shrine burns. In front of you, you see nothing as your eyes are as blind as two spider-eggs, glossed and webbed over. You feel the earth distinctively however, water undertows and rough sediment. 

The fire, blindingly bright and energetic, speaks. “Good priest, you have done well. The night is near its end.”

You wake up. You wake up like someone has driven a knife into your heart.

Coupled with a pained groan, your eyelashes flutter open. The pain in your chest is defibrillating and runs over your shoulders with a hot white electric current. It feels so unique and so awful. Rapidly, you shove your hand into your yogi and touch over the layer of skin. Your heart hammers against the skin like a woodpecker. 

“Oh my God,” you groan, spit running off your lips from the excruciating pain. Coughing around the phlegm, you press your hand hard into your skin, hoping pressure would mimic the job of a tourniquet. Your heart remains relentless. 

More spit runs off your bottom lip like a long, opaque slug. He stretches and plops into the lake around your waist. Bile will not be summoned so you settle with fruitlessly spitting into the lake, groaning in pain. Phlegm hangs like snot on your lip as you look up, expecting to see golden sun-rays that will cure you.

Before you stand a man. 

Those features seem too feminine to make him a man. His thin, cupid bow lips are just a bit too delicate to be a man’s. It looks like his skin is breathing marble and pearl. Monolids and upturned, his eyes are alluring as a concubine. A sun and a moon eye, shining with something indescribable when the two of you make eye contact. Is that genuine love in his womanly eyes?

“Who … Who are you? Why do I?” His eyes are distantly familiar yet juxtaposingly alien to you. Your vision blurs and his face shrinks and distorts, causing his eyes to overlap into an eclipse. Blinking and spitting, you clear your head. “Why do I know your face?”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” For a second, you think him a narcissistic until he says, “The omagatoki tonight is beautiful.”

A sudden chill causes your hairs to stand on end. Those dueling eyes seem to brighten in the pitch black dark. If he were any further from you, it would be impossible to see him. He too stands waist deep in the lake with you, many inches taller than yourself.

The sudden acknowledgement of existing as prey washes over you. “It’s omagatoki already?” Of course it is. The moon lies behind the man like a dot engulfing a canvas. You blink your eyes thrice as if there is a plastic filter cutting into them. 

How did you not notice the telltale signs: cold wind blowing, the strange scent in the air like fish or blood, a sudden chill that causes one’s hairs to stand on end. It is as dark as if you were an explorer in the deep sea. It is omagatoki; how have you not noticed? 

The spirit realm is so active around you. 

“Who are you,” you ask again, full of questions. 

“Me? Why, I am wounded that you do not recognize me. That would be like if I asked you: who are you? Who are you, (Name)?” You stay silent. “A niiyomjei perhaps?” A newlywed bride, he coos. 

“I am no yamahime.” 

A filthy yamahime is a mountain princess, but they are alternatively called mountain woman or newlywed bride. In a rare pleasure of luck, you have only encountered a yamahime once despite spending your entire life sharing the same home as them: the mountains.

You remember standing guard in front of the Shinto shrine, on the cusp of your thirteenth birthday, arms folded as the yamahime laughed and laughed. The laugh of a mountain princess is a lethal poison, those who hear are either dead or driven mad. Blood snailing down your ears, you stood her down for a sleepless night, refusing to let harm to befall either mother or father.

“Do not call me such a word.” You spit like a cobra at the man. 

“My apologies, I misjudged that such a pretty woman as yourself would be honored at the comparison. I would never think to lessen your humanity down to a yokai. Though, why, I have always thought of you as the mountain princess you are.”

The moon backdrops on his body like a halo. All his features are dark besides his eyes and the outline of him pressed tight to the glowing night sun. “And, a newlywed bride? That is a true statement by all measures.”

“I am no bride. I am my father’s shrine maiden – a miko.” Mikos must remain unmarried to help out in a Shinto shrine. Coupled by your isolation, that question seems world-breaking insanity. This man is ridiculous. 

But you are no longer a miko. You graduated when you made two graves; you are a priest. A Shinto priest – man or woman – is allowed to marry and have children. This is all insanity. 

The man puts his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes and frowning delicately into his fist as if that statement is a physical injury to him. “Come now, (Name),” his moon and sun eyes shine like beetles when he opens them, “the priest is dead. Your father is dead. And you will find that your own priesthood is no longer required.” 

“As long as there is a shrine, I’m needed.” The water around you is wrong and peculiar. Weightless and nebulous water clings up your thighs, ending an inch below your belly-button. You have to get back to your ankles. You do not want to cause anyone to worry that you have gone too far in.

“There are guests up there. You really should not disturb their prayers,” the man says as you start to turn, barely making it ninety degrees.

“I am the shrine’s priest, it will be fine.”

“They should go undisturbed; it will only take a moment. They want to explore the shrine inside too. Talk with me some more, bride.”

You ignore that word, unpausing your body. Your yogi floats around like a giant jellyfish cape and you must leave. “No one can get into the shrine, even if it is omagatoki. They would be banished. The yokai of the shrine would recognize a stranger.”

“Only by scent. And you smell like salt water every morning. It is safe to say my brother and boss can continue their prayers unaided and uninterrupted.” 

The man, padding through water as he walks over to you, gently takes your left face in the cradle of his webbed hand. His features may be human but you can feel the slime as it sticks. The bone white of his palm almost glows under moonlight. With soft eyebrows, he looks upon you with idolization. 

“Why do I know your face?”

As serious as a grave, he says, “I was there. In your dreams. And even when they weren’t dreams, I was still there.”

Each innard organ of yours stirs like a bed of worms at his exigent tone. “Yo .. You’re a umi nyobo … no, a umi no otto.” A sea wife, but then you correct yourself, a sea husband. His features might be delicate but his voice is entirely a man’s. You remember two things about them. Very strong. Very dangerous. 

You jerk your head away from the hold of a piscine hand. Frantic, you twist your body away to get back up shore, to lower the embrace the lake has over your body back down to your ankles. You make it only one step before you stop. Eyes facing the mountain, you stare in horror. 

Beyond the summit, between the armies of trees, a thick plume of smoke rises up and points it black fingers up to the twilight hours. 

Fumbling with your mind, you are drawn back to the present as the man attacks you. He wraps his arms like chains around your waist, pinning your arms. Water stirs around the bottom of the contact. The world tilts as he suddenly pushes you down. Water floods into the front of your yogi, spilling down between your breasts. You fight to be upward and he allows it, leaning his body over you in an acute angle. Water comes to a respite. 

Both of you fall still, your chest heaving heavy. He presses his flat chest to your spine. The left side of his face lands on top of the crown of your head. For a minute, you two stay statue-like. 

“If you can remember my face and species then you must know my name.”

“I do not,” clenched teeth grit together. “I do not know you,” you deny.

“Yes, you do. We grew up together. You were my only friend. I was your only friend. I gave you a fish to keep you in good health and you gave me a crane in the promise of our life together. As a child, we do things unclouded by hesitation. Don’t you remember that?”

“I was only a child. I had no way to understand that,” you bargain. 

“But you participated in our wedlock as an adult. Just a month ago, at night, didn’t you?”

“I can’t remember.”

“I will help you remember. All your dreams and all your thoughts, they will be ours.” A piscine hand carefully picks up wet tendrils of hair from the humid skin of your body. He tucks it behind your ear where cold sweat accumulates. “I’ve only thought and dreamed of you, (Name). I only ever wanted to share an eternal life with you by my side.”

“That’s impossible,” you shiver when he draws a claw over the bridge of the bone in your ear, down to the lobe. “Yokai and humans live in different worlds. The sekai and ikai can’t –”

“I know. I know but you promised. You promised to share that immortal soul humans have with me; the immortal soul that yokai lack. I will be turning you into an umi bozu.”

Umi bōzu … a sea priest. 

You have never seen one; you never want to see and much less want to become one. They may look humanoid but they are truly a monstrous sight. Shoulders and a head rising and appearing from rough, killing waves. Giants. Umi bōzu are as tall as a coastal redwood tree, incomprehensible in size. More fearsome than a whale to a sailor and more dangerous than a plague to a newborn. Black as shadow with bulbous, white-blue eyes, umi bōzu are titans of mystery. 

Some believe they are the progenitors of the sea and others … believe they come from drowned priests. You watch the smoke move serpentine into the skies. You are almost grateful for the rough, constituting grip because you feel you are going to pass out with the thought of becoming one of those behemoth sea monks. 

“I’ll – I’ll wake up. The sun isn’t up. I still have time to wake up.”

There is no way that fire is real. And even if it is real, it is not made by your hands – his brother and his boss –

“You say that the yokai of your shrine would vanish my brother and boss, but you forgot that those eyes are a sign of infestation. Mokumokumen invite other yokai in. You knew that and left them alone to watch you. It is almost like you were waiting for this … the consummation of our marriage. How duplicitous you are.”

“Jade. Jade, wake me up right now.”

His face splits apart in a smile unseen. He knew you remembered. 

“You are awake, my wife. You are.”

It is almost disorienting how calm the water is. You feel like a riptide is tearing you up and throwing you left and right. Around your sandwiched waists, you and Jade stand in completely still waters. The current fluidly pushes at your legs but it is like a docile comfort. All is calming and accepting except for yourself. In the air, the scent of blood and fish swims with the breeze. 

“Don’t you see that I love you? That I have only cared and protected you. That one garrapa, you must remember that,” you jolt at the reminder. “Though I am a bit sad to learn you remember him so well, you must remember the end of it too. I even sent my boss to make sure you would be in good health. (Name)?”

You see it clearly: your body distorted into a giant as tall as the Great Wall of China is long, a nebulous black form of head and shoulders surrounded by turbulent waves as a tiny ship is thrown left and right with the force of your existence. A ship carrying twenty plus men comparable to a rubber duck in a child’s tub. 

You cannot become that monster. You cannot become an umi bōzu. Please God please.

Feverish, you chant Norito, a Shinto prayer only said by Shinto priests. It is a prayer to God to prevent bad things from happening. The words fly off your lips like a flight of birds taking off. You feel like your mind is an empty cavern. 

Lord, give me one more chance. 

“I really wish this could precede differently; your tender disposition is something I do wish to upset.”

“God, help me,” you cry. 

Jade listens to your tongue wag like it is the sound of a babbling brook. “The shrine is ash, dear.” 

Waiting a minute longer, the sea husband grabs your face with his webbed hand. The last of your prayer is whispered as he tilts you to look at him, backdropped by the mammoth moon. His sun and moon eyes shine. “I have waited long enough. Let us start our honeymoon. Let us say goodbye to the sun.” 

Then, Jade’s nails cut into you, making gill-shaped marks in the breast of your chest, just over the space where your lungs sit. 

And as he drags you down, you scream the last scream of your mortal life. 

[tezret]

It’s Just A Widdle Babwy!

You/Reader: Shouldn’t get stressed out, not good for the baby.

Jade, eyes wide: Wait- What baby?

You/Reader: Me 🥺

[gendercomsumer]

Oh! Look! It's part 4 after months!!!

A/N: Hello! Yes I am still alive despite what you may think! We had a crazy end of year with a bunch of drama after October but hey I'm here! Either way this is part 4! Hope you enjoy! Also! ME REACHING 100 FOLLOWERS WTF!?! I NEED TO THINK OF SOME SORT OF SPECIAL- (and finish this series as a whole tbh) BUT THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

Warnings: Ooc Jamil?, not proof read, fighting mentions in Jade's

GN!reader! (terms my dear is used in Jades tho)

Characters: Jamil Viper (838 words), Epel Felmier (789 words), Jade Leech (807 words)

Jamil Viper:

You most definitely met through either Kalim or some sort of cooking classes if you take them.

Kalim had already warmed up to you rather quickly so of course he'd want to introduce you to Jamil who's been with him since they were kids.

At first Jamil was naturally suspicious, he was suspicious of most people though so it wasn't really new.

It'd be awhile for him to fully trust you so be ready for a bit of waiting, but I promise it's worth it in the long run!

Kalim also put in lots of good words for you to hopefully speed up the process of Jamil warming up to you, it didn't really help, but it's the thought that counts right?

When Jamil starts to warm up and trust you he will become a bit more doting on you, "You need to tuck your fingers in more while you're cutting, you'll cut a finger off."

It's his own way of showing he's paying attention it can get a bit annoying at times but it's a little sweet if you look at the undertones of it all.

Though somewhere along the line when you started taking some of the work off of Jamil's shoulders even with your already filled schedule is when he starts to realize he might be in trouble.

Helping him with decorations or food for Kalims spur of the moment parties, helping Kalim in the classes you can so that Jamil won't have to tutor him as much

It seems like all small actions to you, but to Jamil it gives him a small fluttering feeling in his chest.

He'll start to realize he's in love when he does things with you in mind without thinking, making a dish for a party cause you had once told him how you loved it

Seeing random things and doing mundane tasks and randomly thinking, 'I wonder where they're at now..'

Once he realizes how far he's in he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose as a small bit of warmth creeping up his neck.

His behavior doesn't change much while he's crushing on you, but something you may or may not notice is the amount of small tasks he does for you grows ever so slightly.

I see Jamil's love language both giving and receiving as acts of service, it makes his heart clench when someone goes out of their way to do something for him, whether it be small or big.

Though sometimes when no one is looking or when you have a moment where the two of you have time alone, there's a faint smile on his face that to anyone else would go unnoticed.

when it comes to the confession he would take a while similar to Azul to make sure it's not just something that will fade with time.

When the feelings persist he's at first a bit annoyed, but those feelings quickly changed

Honestly I think he would confess on accident, he had something planned out but it went out the window at one little slip up.

Kalim had announced a grand party happening in Scarabia for the second time this week and of course put Jamil on cooking duty for all of the party food.

He was going to protest to Kalim saying it was too much for one person to handle until you came up saying you would lend a hand.

Jamil paused and sighed begrudgingly agreeing, at least it was sometime that he got to spend with you alone.

You were quick to start any prep work that Jamil needed, washing vegetables, cutting meat, prepping some of the seasonings he'd need for the dishes.

Jamil had a small smile the whole time watching as you made busy work humming to yourself. It was almost domestic and something he could get used to. The sound of your voice.. An extra pair of hands to help, and not to mention the fascination as you watched him cook that dishes Kalim asked for.

"This is something I could get used to.." Jamil mumbled under his breath you looked at him and asked what he meant and he turned his head with a bit of warmth climbing onto his face.

He let out a sigh putting the cooking meat on a light simmer before turning to you fully, "Having you here.. It's not only nice to have an extra set of hands, but your presence over all is.. it's refreshing to me.. and I want it to stay that way." You jokingly asked if this was his way of saying he was madly in love with you and he gave you a serious look

"If that's what you see it as then yes.. I am saying I'm in love with you, I wouldn't say maddeningly so but my thoughts do wander to you and what it would be like if you were by my side.. Will you do me the honor of making those wandering thoughts a reality..?"

Epel Felmier:

He's one of the first years so it's no surprise the two of you met on your own. (either that or by the idiot duo)

If you have a bit of a grudge against Vil too you guys make quick friends.

if you don't you'd still be good friends since you might have classes together being freshmen and all.

One of the things about being Epel's friend is he feels a lot more comfortable around you and being not so prim and proper

He gets easily excited when talking and will often slowly fall back on his country accent

mention it? He'll get pretty embarrassed and kind of pouty about it

So just let him talk for as long as he wants eventually he'll bleed back into his trained voice Vil worked so hard to get him used to

Epel will also try to prove that you can call on him if you need any man power

by that I mean carrying more or offering to carry something for you that you may seem to be struggling with (even if he may struggle as well-) But hey it's the thought that counts right?

But he is still a very reliable person that you can count on.

When he starts to fall for you though, he'll try to show you how manly he is even more.

He might go to Jack or Deuce for advice (Deuce doesn't have the best advice, Jack gives him some pointers)

He now, without thinking, will carry your bags and books if your hands are full or he just wants to lend a helping hand

He also asks you for your opinions a lot more often, "hey, Y/N, What do you think of this design? I don't know whether or not it's good enough to carve though..."

He'd start to realize how deep he is falling when he starts wanting to write about you to his family back in the country.

He only ever wrote about important events and updates but the fact that he wanted to write about you to home to brag in his own way struck him as odd as he slowly started to realize.

He had almost thought of asking Rook for advice, he didn't want to get Vil's views on it cause he was still a bit salty towards him.

Rook being two steps ahead ( and really good at reading people) told him, "Go for something sincere! From the heart, something special to show them you care and pay attention! That will surely make Trickster swoon for you!"

Epel was a bit surprised he didn't get some sort of strange answer from the vice house warden but he would admit that he did get some ideas from his advice.

He took hours trying to find something that was personal for you, he decided on something hand made, or hand carved I should say.

After a few conversations with you he found your favorite flower out and he quickly got to work.

He did sketch upon sketch trying to find the perfect design to carve for you sometimes taking free time in class which Vil finds a bit aggravating.

Once he had the design he got to work staying up into the late hours carving a beautiful and intricate design into the most perfect apple he could find (in the boxes in his room)

He also cast a spell on it so that the apple wouldn't rot and it would give off the sweet smell as if it was freshly cut.

He wasn't one for very sappy confessions unlike his dorm mates, but he still has one that's sweet.

You and Epel were sitting outside during lunch Ace, Deuce, and Grim were all in line to buy lunch so you and Epel had a moment alone which neither of you complained about

Epel took the apple that was in a small lavender box and gave it to you with a slight blush and smile "Here! It's somethin' I made for you!"

You decide not to bring up his change in accent as you carefully open the box to see the beautifully carved apple with your favorite flower with elegant patterns surrounding it.

You turn to Epel with a sweet smile and thank him but also ask him what the sudden gift is for.

His face gains a bit more color as he clears his throat, "I wanted to tell ya for awhile but there was never a good time since Ace and Deuce are always with ya." He said crossing his arms, "But I really really do care for you, and not just in the way friends care, I love ya... That's as mushy as I'm going to go though!"

Jade Leech

You either met through his twin or Ace and Deuce making some sort of contract and Jade coming to you to ask where they are.

Either way your first meeting isn't anything too grandiose or big, though how calm he was most of the time was quite intriguing to you

He didn't have any strong opinions about you at first until Floyd started to influence his thoughts

"Shirmpy is so funny sometimes~ Today they came into the Lounge trying to pay off Crabby and Mackerels contracts!" That was interesting do tell him more.

You can thank Floyd for helping his brother gain more interest in you.

Jade had asked you on many occasions if you would join the mountain lovers club. (tbh I would it seems like so much fun-)

If not you can sure as hell bet he'll be bringing you random mushrooms, does he know if they're poisonous or not? No, is he going to cook them up and find out? You bet.

Though he'd never purposely feed you poison mushrooms he does use you as a test subject for what ever weird combination he comes up with next

Though congrats! You have a semi-protective eel who will sometimes follow you around now!

I can see Jade as a person who will act like a gentleman to you and those he considers close

Someone talking shit about you? He's about to tell them off and subtly threaten them in the most calm and collected way possible smiling the entire way through.

Yeah to no one's surprise the amount of Savanaclaw students who want to pick a fight starts to drop like flies.

Sure there's still one or two who will talk shit and Jade will send a glare their way

That is if he's still only sure his relationship with you is platonic.

That would bring me to my next point, him realizing he's falling for you.

I can see Jade being in touch with his own emotions, a bit more so than his brother, so it doesn't take him long to notice the change in his view towards you

You go from semi-protective eel, to protective eel and another eel who just likes to bother and tease you

Jade would start to find any free time Azul allowed him to find you and make some sort of conversation with you until he's needed again

Usually he'll have Floyd with him too so you guys can have a fun hang out

now remember those Savanclaw students who were talking shit before??

Yeah they seemed to almost never run into you on campus once Jade figured out his feelings for you

Mostly out of fear that the Leech twin will be with you, but you don't need to know that

Jade will 'introduce' you to his little garden of mushroom terrariums that's honestly rather cute.

(If you get him another one or a new kind of mushroom for his collection he will love you forever no questions asked you are stuck with him-)

Jade similar to his brother feel like his confession would be more accidental and spur of the moment thing, hell he might not realize for a bit that he actually confessed!

I can also see him not even trying to make a move until he can tell you have some similar feelings to him.

I can see some student wanting to pick a fight cause who doesn't want to pick a fight with the non-magical perfect! (fr though why do we find a fight around every corner in game like I'm non-magical the fuck do you want???)

Jade just happened to be looking for you and stumbled onto the scene, to put it gently he wasn't very pleased with the situation.

"Excuse me? What do you think you're doing? Going up against someone who has no magic of their own seems a bit pathetic wouldn't you agree?"

He said still holding his smile and gentlemanly aura with his back faced to you you couldn't see the daggers being glared at whatever poor unfortunate soul decided to cross your path today.

The student quickly challenged Jade to a battle which of course he came out on top of making the other student cower and run away.

Jade turned to you and gave you a close eyed smile, "You know if I was with you all the time you wouldn't have to deal with these sorts of situations?"

Jade gently turned your head up to look at him (He's prob taller than you if he's not I am scared of you-) still having that smile plastered on his face, though his eyes are gentle with a caring gleam to them

"So if you will allow me, I'll be by your side so that no harm will come to you, How does that sound my dear?"

[shytastemakerthing]

Hello! May I get a romantic matchup for twst?

Idk what to put exactly so I looked at some matchups you did and base it on that 😭

My name's Jay and I'm a Leo sun , pisces moon and Libra rising.

Looks wise I'm 5'3 , pale with shoulder length hair that I dye occasionally. (I went rainbow for freshman year of highschool , I got called the Skittles queen and a unicorn) I have brown eyes and a very strong rbf .

Personality wise , I'm going off of what I've been told by the few friends I have 🤧 straightforward , blunt , loyal , kind , funny , generous, protective, territorial, very asocial, bold , strong, ambitious but barely motivated, socially awkward, devil's temper (according to my mom , which is funny cuz it usually takes a lot to get me to that point except for a few exceptions which pull the pin) , i don't enjoy going out much ( a shut in ig) and I'm a bit of an outcast, specifically since I don't go out of my way to talk to people. I carry bandages and snacks in my bag most of the time 😭 I will not back down from a fight 😤 unless it's any sort of math or essay in which case.. I'm sprinting away.

Some dislikes would be bullies, stupid men , religious extremists , math , being bossed around , loud noises , annoying people, awkward small talk , creeps , beating around the bush , disloyalty, too much clinginess, children and gender roles

Some likes are drawing, reading, snacking, horse back riding , swimming, fantasy stuff , video games , anime , sleeping, I love my dogs more than life itself, the ocean and forests , my personal space and listening to music and ocean ambiance. I also love rainy / stormy weather.

I'm interested in boxing and other martial arts, hopefully I get to practice one day .

Idk what else to put so I'll leave it here 😅

Thank you for your time!

Remember to take breaks , eat yummy snacks and a tasty drink ! 💖

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for your request, and thank you for the patience as I work to get the rest of these out! I do hope that you like your match-up! Enjoy!

Tw: None

I match you with.........

Jade Leech

Now, the initial start of this relationship was rocky at best. Jade is someone who is quite used to putting up a front in front of other people, mostly to get them to trust him in some way (very bad idea), or other times, when he is as calm as he is, you know something is about to happen (again, something very bad). It took him some time to realize that he doesn't always have to have that persona up in front of you.

Your loyalty is something he finds admirable. Growing up in the Coral Sea, many only fended for themselves, loyalty wasn't a thing, not when everyday was a new fight for survival. Well, it was for mers who were like him. So, seeing your dedication and loyalty to those who were around you was something he found so endearing about you. And to be on the receiving end of that loyalty, oh, how it made his cold heart flutter.

I have a feeling that Jade will sometimes listen to ocean ambiance to help him sleep. Growing up in the ocean all of his life, coming onto land was a strange time for him. Everything was so unfamiliar to him, so the sounds of the ocean helped. Knowing that you enjoyed those sounds as well brings him great joy. Even more so if he gets to hold you as you both lay in bed. It brought a form of comfort to the eel.

As you love going out into the forest, would you like to join him for his next trip? Or even join his club? Having someone finally out there with him brings a real smile to his face, even more so when it's you. He especially loves it if you ask about any mushrooms that you may see while out in the wilderness. Though be prepared, any question you ask will be met with his extensive knowledge on that particular fungi, meaning he could be talking for hours.

Please go swimming with him. He will gladly switch back to his natural form and show you the world below the ocean if you would let him. He especially loves floating in the chilly waters with you lounging on top of him, simply enjoying the waves and the sun.

Overall, you both bring out the best in each other. He loves to be able to go hiking in the forests with you, hold you at night while listening to the sounds of the ocean, and just being by your side.

[simplyreveries]

I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!

what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?

e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)

OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭

OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!

azul ashengrotto

despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.

so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.

like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.

jade leech

he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.

it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..

like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.

leona kingscholar

he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.

if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.

leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.

malleus draonica

malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.

speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.

after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.

lilia vanrouge

he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.

just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!

lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.

[cyath]

👁👁...

[etheries1015]

The Twisted Wonderland orange peel theory

The orange peel theory: A theory in which one requests their significant other to peel an orange for them. If they say yes, then it means they are willing to do small tasks for their lover. If they say no, it may suggest they are less willing to offer support, the theory says.

featuring: Lilia, Malleus, Trey, Rook, Vil, Leona, Ruggie, Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Jade, Floyd

Sitting around in the presence of your beloved whilst holding an orange, you glance at him contemplating something. You decided to put him to the test! Will he pass?

General warnings: Gender-neutral reader. Also if you don't like oranges/are allergic to them, just imagine something else! <3

TW: None! Just fluff <3

Lilia

Your fae lover sat at his computer playing away at his video game while you lay upon his bed fiddling with an orange in hand. You glanced over at him, turning around to lay on your stomach and holding out the orange.

"Lilia, love?" You asked.

"Yes, darling?" He replied, eyes glued to his screen

"Will you peel this orange for me please?" He paused his movements and turned his head to look at you with a carefree smile upon his face. Without hesitation, he grabbed the orange out of your hand and began peeling away at the skin and discard it in the garbage that sat next to his gaming desk. You giggled slightly and thanked him with a kiss against his cheek, Lilia removing himself from his computer and engulfing you in a hug tackling you to the bed.

"If you wanted my attention, surely you could have found something more creative than peeling an orange, my little bat~"

verdict: Pass! He had the wrong idea of your intentions, but he still won.

Malleus

"Malleus," You asked the tall male, interrupting his focus in crafting the gargoyle he had been paying attention to, holding out the orange in your hand.

"Yes?" He asked, averting his attention from his craft to attentively look at you. He glanced at the orange and flicked his eyes back to yours, tilting his head in confusion.

"Will you peel this for me, please?" Malleus had furrowed his eyebrows ever so slightly- a frown upon his lips as he studied the fruit.

"Are you struggling with peeling it by yourself?" He asked in genuine concern, grasping your hands to study them, "Are you experiencing any pain that is hindering your skills?" You giggled at his strangely focused pout while analyzing your hands, it wasn't even a moment later before he used his magic to lift the orange, peel it, and even take apart each of the slices before grabbing it with his hands and holding one to your mouth.

"Here, I shall feed you. No need to further strain your hands, dearest."

Verdict: Pass...? he has the spirit!!

Trey

The moment you were studying the orange dubiously with an interesting look of focus immediately caught his attention. You didn't even have to ask Trey before he was asking for you!

"Would you like me to peel that for you? You've been staring at it for a while," He chuckled. You smiled up at him and held out the orange with enthusiasm and a nod. He took it gracefully and peeled it perfectly, handing it back and throwing away the peels for you.

"You're the sweetest," You smiled whilst popping a slice into your mouth, Trey responding with a bashful smile and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"There's no need for that...you just seemed deep in thought, so it was more or less an excuse to bring that up. Is something on your mind? You can talk to me about anything."

Verdict: Pass with flying colors!

Rook

"Rooook!" You called out holding an orange to the sky, "Can you peel this orange for me, please!? I don't want my hands to smell like oranges!" You seemed to be calling out into the woods at nothing, but in reality you were sitting against a tree waiting for Rook to finish hunting. You decided to put his loyalty to the test. You heard rustling around before an arrow zoomed past the top of your head, piercing the orange out of your hand and hitting the tree.

Your jaw slacked open, mortified.

You trusted Rook with your life, yes, but he likes to test this sometimes.

"If that is what your heart desires, of course I shall peel this orange for you, my beloved!" He skipped over and took the orange off of the tip of the arrow and began to peel away at it. You stared at him in horror.

"...Rook."

"oui?" An innocent smile as he worked away at the...now miss-shapen fruit.

"Go get me a new orange."

Verdict: ...Questionable pass..? He went and got you a new orange, and peeled it properly for you.

Vil

"Can you peel this for me?" Vil glanced over with furrowed eyebrows and a frown upon his perfect features.

"Why do you require my assistance in peeling an orange? Are you unable to do it yourself?" The question was valid and innocent enough, but you were determined to go through with this challenge.

"Just do it, please?" You gave him puppy eyes, "I don't want to get the peeling under my nails." An excuse you felt he would be able to understand, surely!

"And you believe I do?" He retorted.

Touché...

You flashed him a pout, and he caved. Vil sighed and held out his hand for you to place the orange, slowly and with care removing it's peel. You gave him a bright smile and a little giggle, for you knew he always caves eventually when it comes to you. He loves that part of you though, how you seem to always brighten up at the smallest of things. It's a part of your charm.

"What are you giggling about? It's just an orange, silly potato. You get excited over the most random of things..."

Verdict: Pass with some push

Leona

"No." He was pretty immediate to reject your question. You began to whine and pester him.

"Leona! Please? Will you do just this little thing for me?" You gave him puppy eyes, to which he sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes.

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

"Because I want you to do it."

"That's not an answer."

"Why do I need to have a reason?"

"You woke me up from my nap to peel an orange."

"And?"

He turned around to fall back asleep, you responded with shaking his body and complaining to your lover. Leona turned his body and used his strong arms to pull you into his chest.

"Stop your whining and take a nap with me, herbivore. The orange can wait."

Verdict: Fail...? but in a weird way. You get it?

Ruggie

"Eh?" Ruggie looked up at you with wide eyes, "Peel an orange? Why?" You pouted at the brown haired heyena and placed your free hand upon your hips.

"Because you're my boyfriend, and i'm asking you oh-so-nicely..." He shrugged and took the orange, peeling it.

And then, when you thought he was being extra nice to you and peeling away the slices for you to eat, he took half of the orange and popped it into his mouth. Much to your dismay.

"My orange!!" You complained. Ruggie handed you the other half and laughed.

"What? There's always a price for labor, even if it's just an orange! Besides, you're my s/o, and I wanted it oh-so-bad...sharing is caring, right?"

Verdict: Pass...and you made him go get you another orange. In which he also ate half of before it got to you.

Ace

"Peel this for me," You said in the middle of watching a movie, holding out the orange. Ace eyed it dubiously before looking back up at you.

"Eh? Why can't you do it yourself?" He whined, "I don't wanna smell like oranges."

"Ace, please? for me?" He gave you a deadpan stare and you spent a solid minute just looking at each other in a silent battle. He then sighed loudly and obviously theatrically, snatching the orange away from you and peeling it (not without some attitude.)

"I don't get it...I've seen you peel oranges so many times. I don't think you actually care about smelling like oranges, somethin' else is definitely going on here!"

Verdict: Lowkey failed, but that's okay. Eventually, it worked!

Deuce

"Deuce, can you peel this for me, please?" You asked the blue eyed male, offering up the orange.

Deuce was pretty fast to jump to the opportunity to peel it for you. He likes when you can depend on him on such tasks that are seemingly mundane, it makes him feel important, that you trust him. Even though it isn't that deep. Grabbing the orange and peeling it with eagerness, you smiled fondly at him.

"Here you go!" He said proudly, handing you a...messily peeled orange. It wasn't very pretty, you could see parts of the orange where he managed to either miss some of the peel or scraped some of the main part with his nail by mistake. But that didn't matter to you.

"Sorry it isn't the best...I should practice peeling oranges so it's perfect next time. Huh? You were just testing me? Don't worry, i'll do anything you ask of me! It's important to work as a team, so you won't have to worry about doing tasks by yourself!"

Verdict: Pass, he's a little angel

Riddle

"Riddle," You said taking him away from his studies, "Will you peel this orange for me?" The red head set down his pen and looked over at you and then the orange, holding out his hand for you to give to him right away.

"Of course. Hand it here." You gladly gave him the orange and he peeled it perfectly, cleanly, and discarding the peels right away and standing up to wash his hands.

"I don't mind doing such things upon your request. It's a healthy snack too, much better than the chips and other things I see Ace and Deuce sneak around...hm? No, I don't mind if you eat your orange while we study. Now... where were we?."

Verdict: passed with flying colors (Already knew about this theory beforehand, but wouldn't let you in on that!)

Jade

It was pretty simple, you handed the orange while he was reading something, and he peeled it without you even asking. He peeled it while reading, handed it back to you, although handing you the peels to throw away yourself. You smiled and gave him a kiss on his cheek, Jade chuckling in response.

"Were you testing me with the orange peel theory? What, are you surprised I know of it's existence? I actually anticipated you would attempt it at some point. I see some of the things you like to look up. How do I know what you search online? ...hehe. That's a secret."

Verdict: Pass! ...with a few extra questionable things!

Floyd

"Haahhh?" He looked at you with his signature look of annoyance and dismay. "What'dya mean you can't peel an orange? I don't wanna either," He whined, going back to...whatever weird thing he gets up to in his free time.

"Floydddd," You pouted, "Please? for me?" He looked at you, then the orange. Then you, then the orange. This went on for a minute.

"Fine. I'll go ask Jade." You fled the scene before you could reap the consequences of your statement, hearing his loud protests from afar and the sound of scrambling to catch up to you...

Verdict: Fail. Big big fail. Sorry Floyd lovers.

[twstowo]

Kissing Their Foreheads [Twst Second Years]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.

♡︎ Warning: Foreheads

♡︎ Did this thinking about my forehead post.

[First Years]☆[Here]☆[Third Years]☆[One final forehead kiss]

⋆⋅☆Riddle:

Surprise kiss this man's forehead, and he will squeal so loudly you'll have to excuse yourself from the room to laugh. He'd probably collar you if it's a surprise, then apologize. Whether it's a surprise or not, he'd become a blushing mess. He enjoyed the kiss so much that he began kissing your forehead, expecting you to repay him sooner or later.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Ruggie:

Kissing Ruggie's forehead? Prepare for the fact that he'll now only kiss yours. You showed him something unexpected he enjoyed, maybe because it was you who initiated it. There's something strange about this kind of kiss, it made him feel like he is so important to you, to the point that even his forehead you found kissable.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Azul:

Freezes when you do it, needing a few minutes to process before realizing he really liked it and wants you to do it again. He'll literally make you sit on his lap for easier access. Now you can't go anywhere unless he feels satisfied with your kisses.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Jade:

Climbs a ladder Oh, a kiss on his forehead? He'll tease you about it endlessly. You'll never live down this moment; even at the altar when the two of you are getting married, he'll bring up the forehead kiss because you just couldn't get him out of your head. Kiss him again, he liked it, turn the tables against him and kiss him until he's so embarrassed he needs to cover his face.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Floyd:

Climbs a ladder again. Depends on his mood. If he's in a good mood, he'll squish you until he's bored, and there's no escape. If he's in a bad mood, he won't pay much attention, but when he feels better, he'll come find you. It doesn’t matter if you are in class, talking with people or studying, he'll make you kiss his forehead again.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Kalim:

Yes! Do it again. He smiled so brightly after you kissed his forehead that you were blinded. He loves any kind of kisses or touches you give him. He'll kiss your forehead in front of everyone next time; it's your new greeting. You pass by him? Forehead kiss. Jamil literally has to leave the room before he gets sick.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Jamil:

Oh no. Did. you. just. kiss. his. forehead? In denial. Can't believe it. He hides his face, unable to show he's embarrassed. Kiss his forehead again, and he'll just hug you to make you stop. At least this way, you can't see his face. After some months he will kiss your forehead out of nowhere, it took him all that time to gather the courage.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

⋆⋅☆Silver:

Oh, he loves it. Every time you kiss his forehead, he'll return the gesture. It turns into a contest until he falls asleep or Sebek barges in, yelling about your indecent actions. He enjoys when you play with his hair, resting his head on your lap, and receiving forehead kisses, it makes him feel warm inside.

[forgwater]

"Ah, yes. Me, my beloved Prefect and my lookalike tsum from another dimension."

Twst Boys and their reactions to you cuddling their tsum instead of them Headcanons

part 3 part 2 part 1

Deuce Spade

He's exasperated.

Ace has already been making fun of him and how you seem to prefer the plush and how his tsum is completely whipped. just like the real Deuce.

He's at a complete loss.

Has no idea what to do.

He's staring holes into his tsum.

He's flustered, but also annoyed.

You look so cute! And you're holding his lookalike! What is he supposed to do in this situation?!?! He wants cuddles too!

Physical fighting is not an option here!

He tries bargaining with his tsum when he thinks you're asleep.

You hear his attempts.

Deuce is mortified.

Azul Ashengrotto

He's flattered that you like his tsum that much.

He's not happy to see you lavishing all of you attention and affection on it though.

He must move fast before it is too late.

Azul tries being civil at first.

Attempts to talk you into letting go of his lookalike and hugging him instead.

He'll start listing pros and cons in his attempt.

If none of this works, then he just tries to rip the plush out of your arms when you least expect it.

He really hoped it would not come to this.

His tsum is not letting go.

Azul is very much not happy about this.

Jade Leech

Ah, Prefect don't you look just so adorable holding his tsum in such a tight embrace.

He'll play nice this time and share with his tsum.

Only for tonight.

You are far endearing to disturb.

But, that's enough of that. He needs his cuddles too.

Jade tries to hug you, ignoring his bean version until it does the unthinkable.

It slaps his hand away.

He's stunned.

Then, right after that, Jade starts planning his own tsums murder.

How unfortunate.

He really did like the little critter.

Well, he's got new feelings about it now.

So, how should he start his revenge on that plush?

Kalim Al Asim

He's trilled!

Why would he be upset about you loving his lookalike just as much as you love him?

This calls for a pajama party!

When you finally go to sleep at Jamils exasperated insistence, you more or less get sandwiched between Kalim and his tsum.

How cute!

Unfortunately, both of them tend to cling to you in their sleep.

There's a lot of moving around.

Kalim ends up falling of the bed.

Rook Hunt

Ah! Beauté! 100 points!

How could this hunter of love not appreciate the scene right before his eyes?!

Your adorable visage, partially obscured by his own tsum that you hold so dearly in your arms.

Really, he couldn't have asked for a better!

The only problem this heartwarming scene is the empty spot in his arms.

He also attempts to play nice and hug you as you are hugging his tsum.

Rook tsum makes a quick more to thwart his human counterpart.

Ah. So this is a challenge.

Throughout the night Rook attempts to remove his lookalike plush from your grasp.

They are locked in a quiet battle for your affection.

Lilia Vanrouge

Awwwww!!! How adorable! Lilia will allow his tsum to get some cuddles from you.

But as cute as his tsum is, he is just as cute if not more.

Do let go of the tsum and hug him instead, would you?

When you make the executive decision that the tsum will sleep with you, he's... fine with it.

But only as long as he gets cuddles as well.

He's too old and mature for jealousy. (he says, like a liar)

Lilia attempts to hug you, but his tsum keeps getting in the way, moving in such ways that will not allow the bat fae to get his hands on you.

Lilia's not too fond of this.

You wake up in the middle of the night to Lilia locked in a deadly stare of with his plush lookalike.

His lips are moving.

He's whispering threats to the tsum.

The tsum does not seem bothered.

[mochinomnoms]

In regard to interspecies romance

Humans have a fairly easy time pursuing the other species in Twisted Wonderland, though there are exceptions to that rule.

multi (separate) x reader [wc] - 2,252 [note] - one of the first things i ever wrote, though i never posted cause i didnt edit it. thought i would anyways cause its kinda cute. Edited 12/14/23 to add a readmore

Despite their animal like tendencies and courting methods, it's incredibly common to see human-beastmen couples and families. Perhaps it's due to how similar their behaviors are to their animal counterparts, but humans are fond of how beastmen flirt and display affection. Beastmen are offended by the comparison, but it's hard to deny how similar, and cute, they are to the common wolf, hyena, or lion.

Wolf and other canine beastmen enjoy being close to their mates. They like to be physically affectionate, almost playful with their partners. They'll nuzzle into the crook of their neck—no matter how much bigger they are compared to their human—lean against them when they walk, and will happily be by their beloved's sided at all times. Furthermore, they primarily show their effectiveness as partners by being great providers, regardless of gender, and showing off how tight-knit their packs are. After all, family is very important to them, and they'll expect to have one, no matter how big or small, with their partner in the future.

If you catch Ruggie trying to slyly and smoothly place a hand on the small of you back when moving through crowds, no you don't. If a person notices Jack momentarily grabbing (gingerly, mind you) your sides as he slips behind you to reach the potion ingredient on the shelf above you, don't mention how his touch lingers ever so slightly. Maybe take it with a grain of salt when Jack tries to invite you to visit his family over break, as friends, of course. And when Ruggie brags to you about how well he watched over the neighborhood kids growing up, how he'd make for a great family man, it's all hypothetical.

Feline beastmen are more reserved in their affections in public, especially compared to canines, and even more so for lion beastmen. It's more common for them to show affection in more subtle manners, such as buying their partner's food and drinks without being asked, going out of their way to help them when they're struggling at school or work, and are able to spend hours just in their general vicinity. As long as their beloved is around, they're happy. In private, though, expect to have their entire body draped over them, weight and all, shoved into their personal space to the point that it becomes a foreign concept. Leona embodies this to his entire core, too prideful to perform PDA, but just prideful enough that he knows he can take up all your time and space with no consequence. Unless that consequence is your love and affection, which he supposes he could suffer through if you hear him purring, don't point it out.

All lion beastmen hold their pride close to their heart (no matter how much a certain prince would deny it) and their partner is no exception. Their pride is an intrinsically developed social network made of an extended, but closed family network. It requires all new partners to be carefully and slowly introduced to the rest of the pride, more so in Leona's case due to the royal family being traditionally made up of Sunset Savana nobility. You won't be the first non-beastmen, but are the first foreigner in a very long time to be introduced. Don't worry, though, Leona is nothing if not patient, and his family are just happy to know that he's found someone.

On the other end of the spectrum, however, are human-fae relations. Uncommon, though not for a lack of trying on humans' parts, due to most of the fairfolk residing in the isolated Briar Valley. The complicated history between the two species, ancient to humans but still relatively fresh for fae, doesn't help either. There's also the unfortunate consequence of humankind's rather short lifespans compared to the average 1,000-year lifespan of the fae. Unless the fae is in their final hundred or so years, they'll almost always outlive their partner without magical interference.

It's not impossible though, and as younger fairfolk leave the valley to explore the world, more marriages have resulted in half-fae children, both human and beastmen. As partners, fae are devoted to the health and safety of their loved ones. Increasing tenfold into nearly coddling territory with non-fae. Compared to them, their humans and beastmen are awfully fragile and naive, and require their protection. This can cause animosity between them, however, and only fae that are willing to learn and change their old ways result in happy, long-lived marriages.

They're also generally known to have lengthy courting methods: not dating, that implies something casual, no they court. Once they've established interest in you, their end goal is marriage, no ifs, ands, or buts. Fairfolk are generous with gifting during courtship: all gifts are about an equal-exchange and your acceptance of their gifts is a reciprocation of their feelings. At the end of the courtship, you can expect a small feast to be displayed at a ceremony held between their and your family. This is an especially important ceremony when courting humans and beastmen: fairy food can often cause lasting damages to those that consume it without permission. By offering their food to you and your kin, they are welcoming you into their world and telling you that they will never intentionally bestow harm to you or your kin. If you choose to accept the food, then you agree to do the same til the end of your days.

Lilia is a strange case, having already lived a long life and being well traveled, a gleeful participant in the strange customs and traditions of humans and beastmen. He'd much rather participate in other's dating and courtship rituals than his own people's. It's fascinating how fleeting the process can be, yet it can result in everlasting devotion. Don't mistake his flexible nature for disinterest, however. He's still a fae, and if you start finding silly little knickknacks of his on their desk, you can expect to never be rid of him.

The Draconia family-line is steadfast in their traditions, even if Lilia raised the latest prince. So don't expect anything other than the previously explained rituals from Malleus, even if you're not aware of them. Taking gems, jewelry, and clothing made of the finest material you'll ever lay hands from his hoard means little to him if it means you'll accept the gift (and him). Even if you aren't aware of how courtship works, the moment you pick up the black ring with the big oval emerald and Briar Valley crest, you're practically engaged in his eyes.

The courtship is long, even for Malleus who was one step away at every turn to skip over the entire thing in favor of just eloping. All for the person who decided that the great and terrifying Malleus Draconia was actually just a simple Mr. Hornton, a friend, companion who just wanted someone to stay by his side. If it means calling you his spouse, his fellow ruler, and the only love of his life even a moment sooner, then he'd be willing to throw tradition and ritual out of the very tall tower window just to do so.

Many years later, when you reminiscing how the two of you first met, and how long it took you to notice his feelings, you'll offhandedly mention the random gifts you found at your doorstep. How you wish you knew who was leaving those precious stones and golden amulets with no indication on who the admirer was. Upon further questioning, you'll tell him that you didn't even know you were being courted until two months into the ritual. It'll then click in Malleus's mind how utterly lucky he was that the two of you even got together in the first place.

It may be surprising, but human-mer relations have been extraordinarily rare. Only a handful of them have popped up since the times of the Sea Princess, who left her home for a human prince. In fact, you could probably count them on one hand! Perhaps this is due to the difficulties of having a romance between land dwellers and undersea folk; after all, it's much easier for humans, fae, and beastmen to interact when they all live on land. Merfolk can come up to the surface, and have been doing moreso in the last century, but having a relationship with someone who quite literally could not breathe in the same air/water as you is near impossible. At least, not without significant effort on one or the other's part.

Nearly all the human-mer romances that have occurred in history resulted in either one or the other abandoning their home to turn into a human/mer and live the rest of their days with their love in their new world. Certainly a romantic notion to be sure, but it most definitely require their love to be truly eternal. Or else you might run the risk of resentment brewing between the two. With a slowly growing need to easy access transformation potions and spells for business and diplomatic reasons, such romance is not far from reach, at least for those with money to spare. The next issue though would be the significant difference between land dweller and undersea folk's courting methods.

Perhaps it can be contributed to the more...feral nature of merfolk. Most of them still retain more animalistic features and behaviors than the average beastman. The twins are no exception to this. Even if you were to remove their claws, mucus covered skin, and 6-ft tail, you're still left with eyes suited for a deep-sea predator, nose that can smell the tiniest drop of blood in a pool, and rows of razor sharp teeth begging to bite down on your neck. The deep-sea is not only cold, but quite ruthless. So, it'll probably come as no surprise that moray eels will prove themselves as suitable partners by fighting either their competitors or you. If they can prove that they can hold their own, protect you from the horrors of the deep, then they have the right to go for your heart. That's not to say softer sentiments don't exist, and while similar the twins are still two separate people with different tastes. These tastes show during courting, though mers have a more casual date-like ritual.

Like fae, merfolk court via gifts, particularly handmade or ones they found themselves, and Floyd is awfully fond if gifting you the strangest things. A tooth that was knocked out from the student who shoved you a little too hard, a rock you tripped over in P.E., or a sand dollar he found on a trip to the beach were a few of the many items he gave you. Jade is similar, though he's more fond of making his own gifts. A necklace made of seashells found at the beach you had your first date in, a terrarium he made from plants that remind him of you, but your favorite was the small garden he started tending to on your kitchen windowsill. Breakfast was particularly delicious when made with his fresh mushrooms. Expect soon after the gifts lots of physical affection, public and private.

Don't be mistaken, they'll still bully you. But each of Floyd's bone-crushing hugs will be accompanied by a soft headbump from his forehead to yours. Jade's teasing, mean remarks will follow with a swift, sweet peck to your knuckles. They'll grab your notebook and hold it above their head until you agree to give them a kiss or punch them in the stomach, both are acceptable responses. Be a little mean back, they like the idea of a sweet and cute little human that can throw a punch. Your their sweet little human, and you make life in the deep exciting. Just don't ask about their flushed face every time they see you yawn, they aren't quite ready to explain that one yet.

Azul intensely studied a variety of topics before coming to land, even briefly glossing over dating, romance, and marriage before deciding he wouldn't need it anytime soon. He regretted that soon after meeting you, though he made do with what he knew. And what he knew as food. A combination of octo-mer courtship and being the son of a cook, Azul will discreetly court you by personally cooking and feeding you your favorite meals. It's the result of the dangers of ancient octo-mers eating their spouses after mating. Afterall you can't eat more if your already full. While not something they have to worry about now, it's an old ritual still used today, Azul has hear the way to a person's heart is their stomach and can wholeheartedly agree.

What's surprised you the most was what followed after, especially for someone as physically reserved as Azul: octo-mers are extremely clingy and affectionate. He doesn't have the heart to do anything more than handholding and chaste kisses to your cheeks in public, but he yearns to wrap all 8 tentacles and two arms around you so tightly that your gasping for a breath that he steals with his lips. He won't mention it, but he can taste the salt from your skin and the pulse from your wrists with his suckers. Take it from someone who grew up with a refined palate, he thinks your taste is equivalent to ambrosia from the gods, though that might be the lovesickness speaking.

i have a hard time writing savanaclaw for some reason, but imma working on it now! also tagging for all the guys is stressful idk what i should enter, like fullname or just first name idk man!! pls reblog and comment! lmk what you time, xoxo

[local-ground-apple]

A makeout session with Jade is 😳🥵🔥

okay, so like, that would be extremely hot & i would perish lowkey written as a small part 1.5 to meeting jade for the first time fic

The breath was lost in your throat when your back roughly collided with the wall. You stumbled a bit, your hands trying to clutch cuffs of the other person's shirt to steady your surprised and shakened form.

His fingers gripped your chin, titling it slightly to the side, as he stared at you, carefully observing your flustered face.

,,My, my, you seem a bit caught off the guard ?"

Jade leaned down, whispering to your ear, before he pulled back once again. You yelped, as his lips crashed on yours, kissing you desperately and fiercely. You tried to push him away, yet despite your efforts he didn't move in the slightest, firmly standing and pinning you to the wall.

,,I suppose you could consider this as a payback for your last...stunt"

Jade's sultry yet amused tone made you widen your eyes in annoyance, when he pulled slightly away, letting you catch few desperate breathes. Your hands once again attempted to put some distance between you two, yet this eel ignored your poor attempts.

You were truly a poor, unfortunate soul.

He titled his head slightly, as he observed briefly your exasperated expression. You looked as if you were debating whether to make a scene and yell at him, or continue to try to slither away from him and escape.

,,I wasn't aware you were this vindictive"

You huffed, clearly annoyed with Jade's behavior, as you rolled your eyes, only earning a small chuckle from him. Jade leaned down once again, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

,,I'm not quite done yet"

He whispered and before you even had to chance to react, Jade left a trail of wet kisses on your collarbone. His teeth hovered teasingly over one spot, before he bit down on it, nibbling and drawing blood, making sure to leave a reddish mark which would be visible.

You supposed that you indeed hated this eel's revenge.

[rel124c41]

DESTROYING ANGELS. jade leech

It screams in your head. A siren. An eagle. A sick, diseased, morbid raven yelling and yelling: housewarden, housewarden, housewarden, it caws at you. With Vil Schoenheit's third year coming to an end, you hold the ambition to become housewarden, if even only for a measly year.

But when struck with the visage of Vil's overblot, you doubt your efforts and turn to a deal with a truly odious individual.

tags: rival relationship, blood and injury, mental breakdown, developing relationship, poisoning, pomefiore (twst), gentle kissing, happy valentine’s day!!

word count: 24,883

For what was an immeasurable time, you again scrubbed the fifteen second clip back to the beginning. At this point, Si and Am — your dormmates — have already left the library to attend class. You told them you would catch up, but reflexively your thumb drags the red dot to the left. You said you would catch up perhaps five minutes ago.

As the clip starts, you watch it like it has pierced both your eyes with hooks and is cranking you back into the boat. You have to watch it again and again, pause at mark 00:05, mark 00:13, mark 00:10. And it is not even enjoyable.

You are transfixed like someone watches a person burning in the backyard get-together, morbidly interested yet disconnectedly anguished.

The quality is mediocre at best. The recorder, one of the dwarf children or a random attendant, had a faulty grip on his phone. Perhaps, you should give them some credit. Running for your life would make a video appear blurry as found footage films, but … you scrub back to the beginning, Sevens couldn’t they have just stood still for a fucking second!

The grip around your phone tightens immensely and your case crackles. At this point, the screams and pleads on the loop are like trickling sand. You hold your thumb by the pause button, waiting and waiting until there!

Instantly, your glumness vanishes. Your eyes break the limits of human anatomy and widen even further to soak in all of the image. You screenshot it six times.

On your phone is the countenance of Vil Schoenheit in his overblot form. Black lips open wide into a yelling shout. The lace and insignia of blot indented onto crystal white skin. Golden peacock feathers cutting into the sky and forming Mary’s halo around his head. And most importantly, the symbol of every overblot, wisps of violet curling and pulsing off the campfire that is Vil’s fiery eye. The only recorded video of your housewarden’s overblot saved onto your phone after pulling so many strings and calling up so many connections.

And you should be happy; you have that image; you could do whatever you please with it and ruin Vil Schoenheit. But, gathering up your paperwork, all you feel is envious.

Storming out the library, you mourn that if you overblot, it will never be as magnificent as the one your housewarden has achieved.

You are not as skilled in cloak and dagger activities as your vice-housewarden is. Those observation skills of yours left something to be desired. Plus, your lack of companionship did not stem from a need for secrecy (like many other students) but rather a practical desire to complete your goal. Being isolated should have left you with plenty of time to practice espionage-esque skills. You guess you have wrongly judged that you were at least subtle in your staring, because as you go to tap Jade Leech on his shoulder, both of you walking down the hallways, he says without even turning his back, “twenty-seven.”

You quickly withdraw your finger from the space inches near his shoulder as if an animal you were petting had opened its maw. You shrink back as Jade Leech stops in the middle of flowing school traffic and turns around. The impression he cuts through the current is odious. “I’m sorry?”

“You have stared at me this week on twenty-seven different occasions. I was wondering if you were going to reach thirty before you said anything to me.”

His smile is odious too. Ah, how terrifying he is to look at. You deflate at his words then attempt to puff right back up again. All that false confidence you had been building up this whole week was meant for this, “I was hoping that I could trouble you for setting up a meeting with housewarden Ashengrotto. At his earliest convenience?”

“I see,” Jade Leech says, reaching a gloved hand up to his chin. “But would it not be more optimizing if you were to come directly to Azul with this. Of course, I can pass on the word to him.”

Okay, this is it. As a last ditch intimidation method, your instincts make you stand up straighter. You spent all week preparing for this. Be honest; Jade Leech will never reveal his hand but as the applicant, you will need to reveal yours. And you know this conversation will not reach housewarden Ashengrotto if it does not manage to interest his vice-housewarden.

“Because the deal I want doesn’t involve Azul; it's a deal between both me and you.”

You find yourself in the VIP room before the day is out.

You are almost dizzy with the speed that things were commencing. Stress had been intimately stitched into your uniform as you spent the last week. A week spent staring at Jade Leech – apparently twenty-seven times – and trying to deduct how to talk to him. The same day you approach is the same day you get into Ashengrotto’s office. Yes, you certainly feel whiplashed by the turn of events.

The lilac straw in your mouth has definitely known kinder customers. Halfway done with the sunset-hued drink Floyd Leech presented you with, you occupy yourself with gnawing on the straw. You need a way to relax and were appreciative of the drink. It is a good drink, a mixture of pineapple and orange juice with grenadine. Nothing else, though you had tasted around for a hint of any poison, and you were good at –

“(Name),” Azul says and you quickly set down your drink. “I was told this was an imperative matter, so I am wholly interested in how Octavinelle can provide for you. After all, I don’t believe you have ever graced Mostro Lounge with your presence before.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at the orange foam in your glass. Why did he make it sound like you kept him waiting? When you were the one waiting for twenty minutes at least as he did paperwork, trying to avoid eye contact with the Leech twins seated across from you. Forget it, do not be intimidated. Looking up, you puff your throat and start.

“Housewarden Ashengrotto, I want to make a contract with you. I–”

“Well, yes, most individuals at Night Raven College do. However, Jade informed me this was a matter that did not involve myself.” Azul is still busying himself with shuffling papers as if you are an impediment.

“The contract,” you swallow hard. “The contract would not involve me and you. I require nothing from you except a contract that would ensure that both me and the other signer will provide the agreed upon terms. It would involve Jade Leech and myself.”

You receive no response from Azul. He is scribbling on a paper with his fishbone pen. You send a quick glance across the table to the twins – bad idea, you quickly turn back to Azul who is peering at you bored over his glasses. Your words are not entertaining enough. “I want to know if this type of contract is possible with your signature spell before I reveal my hand.”

“Dear, anything is possible with the Sea Witch’s spirit of benevolence. But, you are the applicant here and I am no mind reader. So, please, indulge my ears and tell me your worries, your struggles, and your troubles.” He waves one hand in a gesturing stroke then returns to writing.

“In exchange for what I’m asking, I’ll offer you my life and freedom, my possessions, and all my magic.”

The VIP room’s atmosphere shifts at your words. The bubble of indifference is pricked with a needle. Fishbone pen clattering, Azul snaps his head up to you so fast that his glasses tilt on his face. Cool cerulean eyes brim up with a destructive interest. In the corner of your vision, Floyd’s restful shoes suddenly slip off the glass table and are replaced by his slamming hands. Underneath the glass, three koi fish swam agitated at the weight. The courteous smile has slipped off Jade’s features and he is staring at you. Are his eyes glowing? No matter, his already perfect posture has already begun to straighten more.

You pick up the glass that Floyd had rattled and sip the drink. The knowledge that you had definitely secured the usage of Azul’s signature spell sends a warmth through you that you need to cool with an orange, iced beverage.

“HAHAHAHA,” Floyd shrieks excitedly. “Pufferfishy is so exciting! Aren’t they, Jade!” Jade mumbles his agreement that this is quite unexpected as his twin continues laughing, thoroughly amused.

When you reach the bottom of your foamy drink, Azul is done fixing his glasses. “Well, that is certainly unexpected collateral. Are you perhaps desperate, (Name)? Such heavy words.” But he is already summoning a contract in his right hand. Golden luster drips off and shadows him a canary yellow gleam. He starts to scribble on that instead.

“I am not desperate,” you state. It is a true statement. Despite what your collateral is, not an ounce of this is desperation, despite everything an outsider might believe.

“An-And what would you require from Jade,” Azul asks, his hand rapid with his writing. His voice makes you inclined to believe Azul would be willing to sell Jade Leech for anything you had to ask for. Good, you think, you need to make them more willing to your whims than vice versa. You start to describe what you want from this contract.

“I need someone, not from Pomefiore, who still possesses knowledge of poison. My options were five students from Octavinelle and Scarabia who excelled in potionology, Jade Leech was one of them. If I picked any of the other four, they could have easily betrayed me or sold my research. Jade Leech has both a knowledge of fungi poisons and oceanic poisons with a minimal understanding on land and magic poisons too. Divus Crewel even sings his praise.

“To become Pomefiore’s housewarden, I need to make the most potent poison. I need to win this upcoming summer exam above all else. Working with someone from Pomefiore could compromise me. I am leagues ahead of my peers but,” but I even fall into self doubt “but even I know when I am running into a deadend, of sorts. I need another pair of eyes to help me find that exit.

“If Jade Leech is willing to help me both make and test a variety of poison, then I will sign this contract. If I fail to become Pomefiore’s housewarden, then I forfeit my entire life to anyone in this room. My magic and all my servitude is one of yours.”

There is it, terms laid out plainly. You silently watch the way the trio reacts to this information. Really, you try to focus your attention on Jade without losing eye contact with Azul. His interest is definitely piqued. If something catches the eel-mer’s scrutiny, he is sure to go into it wholeheartedly, yes? You wish you could read people better, it has never been your speciality.

“Such a streep price. Your entire life?” A dangerous firecracker glint passes over Azul’s eyewear. “Perhaps, I can have you working for Mostro Lounge indefinitely. After all, the Octavinelle dorm is where you originally belo-”

“Don’t. Don’t bring that up.”

He is not sorry but still says, “Of course, my apologies. So, the assistance of my vice-housewarden is what you desire, dear student. Well, I cannot help but ask Jade what he thinks of this arrangement.”

“Wait. I want to add a clause to this contract.” Surprise molds Azul’s lips in a pout, but he still tells you to continue. “If I feel – for any reason – that Jade is becoming an obstacle to me becoming Pomefoire’s housewarden, I can invoke a rescission of the contract. And the other party will need to accept that.”

Azul’s face starts to mold like prodded clay at your verbal addendum. His eagerness is ruefully gone from his motions. Octavinelle’s housewarden gains control of himself and starts to realize he will need to actually negotiate. You are not as easy to blindside as others. He spits out two sentences as if they are tar in his mouth. “A clause that would terminate the contract, hm? And all under your jurisdiction.”

“Well, that simply won’t do,” Jade says and you finally get to look at him. You meant what you said earlier, he is terrifying to look at. There is always something wolfish in his features, perhaps his eyes or teeth, but he always looks eager to tear everything apart if given the order. A thudding and pounding box with a thousand belts and locks twined around it. That is the only image you can compare his guise to.

“What if I am benevolently doing all I can to help you complete your poison? Providing my knowledge on both fungi and oceanic poisons. Yet,” his eyes shimmer here “your shortcomings are making you fail. I can only aid so much. Or what if you come to regret this contact and purposefully try to fail? You would be wasting my time.”

You puff and challenge back, “And what if you are not being so benevolent, Leech? What if you are trying to sabotage me at every turn so I do not become a housewarden? I need to plan for every angle and make sure I am not vulnerable.”

“So little trust. Do you really think me so villainous, little Pufferfish?”

“The very thought of me purposely sabotaging myself is ludicrous. The thought of you pulling subtle strings is not so far-fetched. I have offered too gracious a price on my end.”

“Yet, all the same, here you are offering it. Are you sure you do not wish to retract what you said about being desperate?”

“A desperate person would never add a clause.”

“Perhaps, this is true but –”

“You two, enough of this banter,” Azul cuts in.

Huh? You were not bantering. You were discussing contract terms. The back of your neck grows hot as Jade smirks, just a few feet from you, separated by koi fish and table legs. Neither of you noticed that you were leaning into each other, biting, until Azul stopped the argument. Still, “my apologies, housewarden Ashengrotto,” you should always remain on a housewarden’s good side as a student at Night Raven College – that was one of your philosophies.

“Jade is right. You could dip out of this contact all under the guise that Jade is halting your progress when it is really you have reached the limits of your ability. Not that I doubt your ability, but human nature requires failure.”

You weigh all of this. Getting this clause added onto the contract was never going to be easy, this you anticipated. The allurement of forfeiting your life was what you had originally hoped would entice them. Maybe you spoke in the wrong order, said too little or said too much. Still, you were here and needed to find a way to cement this clause’s spot on that golden contract.

You glance at your empty glass … perhaps you should, no perish the thought. Intimidation is sure to never work in the Octavinelle dorm and you will surely be thrown out.

“Trust. You said I had little of it. That is true; I have little trust for anyone truly, Leech.” You stare down at the swimming koi fish. Turning to Azul, “If I tell Jade the reason that he is an obstacle to me, and he agrees, then I would like our contract terminated. Ultimately, Jade Leech would be in charge if I choose to end our arrangement.”

A little bit of your free-will; you calculate that you can afford to lose a little bit of that. As far as you were concerned, you could trust Azul Ashengrotto and Jade Leech as far as you could throw them. As soon as you were out of their sight, they would be conspiring to find a way to ensure your failure. However, with a more trained mind when it comes to poison, you should be able to safely squeeze what you need from that slippery eel.

“My, such an angry expression. Do you really trust us so little?” Slippery eel, slippery eel, slippery eel.

Azul smiles as he waves his magic pen over the contract, words shifting to his whim. “Do try to not look so constipated, dear. It’s a bad look. Perhaps, Octavinelle can teach you to conceal your emotions if you need assistance there too.”

With a bit of heat on your neck, you do your best to school your expressions. Your features just leap back to revealing your mind, shock overtaking at Azul’s next words. “Oh, and I will be adding my own clause that Jade will have to assist you benevolently or the contract will find itself void.”

One last time, the entire VIP room’s atmosphere shifts. Shock has already started to color the two eel-mers’ expressions. Floyd leans over his brother's shoulder and lets out an annoyed, “huuuh?” Jade, trying to keep his polite façade, has placed a hand upon his heart. His mouth is twitching and you envision one of those belts or locks around his convulsing box exploding off. “Azul –” Jade starts but Floyd ends, “Azul, that’s totally unfair.”

Honestly, it is the most fair part of the contract, but you keep your mouth shut, worried that you could get the clause removed with the wrong words. Then comes the devastating part. Azul, who has seemingly finished the contract, stands up from his desk.

“Come now, after November, we all promised to be more accommodating in our contracts. We have to do our duty to uphold the virtues of the Sea Witch such as (Name) here will uphold the unrelenting efforts of the Beautiful Queen.

“However, benevolence is subjective person to person. Of course, the clause will be dependent on what Jade considers benevolent. His definition of it might be different from mine, his brother, or your own. But it will still be there,” here, he places the contract in your hand, paper feeling like a dumbbell “a safety net for you to use in your judgment, if needed.

“You’ve always been interesting. Thus, we all do expect great things from you. One way or another.”

If you were not in competition for the spot of Pomefiore's housewarden, your strong affection for chemicals, venomous things, and poison would have been concerning — to say the least.

At least that was what Jade deducts, watching you whip around the private lab in Pomefiore’s dorm. He had observed you in Crewel’s class and botanical gardens. This you is on another level of enthusiasm. Plucking all the supplies you need from storage, you are ablaze with a passion that almost seems to swallow up your entire being.

Passion can intimidate others. Jade knew for himself as his relationship with mushrooms did cause a few shudders, and Azul and Floyd were sadly unenthusiastic to share in it. You know all the cracks in the floor, all the loose cabinet shelves, and all the chipped flasks to avoid that an inexperienced student might pick up and use. Observing this, Jade thinks your fiery strides must be equal to his when he is able to embark on his hikes. Fluorescent energy beating hard under skin. How truly entertaining.

Supplies cradled to your chest, you scramble over the table and start to place your third trip of supplies down one by one. Jade sits patiently. Too engrossed in your element, you had avoided conversing besides telling him joyful, when you two entered, that one rarely gets to see Pomefiore’s lab without being enrolled in the dorm. Since then, unfortunately your attention has been away from him.

This contract better not be going to waste.

Bunsen burner, two volumetric flasks, heavy duty gloves. Once done setting them down, you start gliding away, stars in your eyes, to go pick up more things. Jade sends a spectacle look to the supplies. Will you cover every inch of the table with tools?

As you lean down into a cabinet, Jade calls out, “So, enlighten me on what the requirements our poison must meet. There must be rules that I am unaware of.”

You puff up. Bewildered eyes met his gentlemanly gaze. He resists the chuckle in his throat; did you perhaps forget that he was here, waiting for you? Shaking off your confusion, you straighten your posture and start speaking like a professor giving their favorite lecture.

“To become the housewarden of Pomefiore, one must be able to create the most potent poison among their peers. It is graded upon presentation, name, and the effectiveness of the poison. The poison can be presented in a variety of forms: food, liquid, a smear-like jam, a breathable substance, a cosmetic item, etcetera.”

You recite this as if you are reciting your full name for an interview, as if it is something you have known since birth. The passion in your voice is firm. “But to me, all of that is meaningless.”

Jade’s eyebrow twitches up at this. “Meaningless? Then why sign a contract?”

“No, not meaningless. It is all,” you snap your fingers, searching for a word. “It is unimportant because I will be creating a poison that can stop an elephant or dragon’s heart in a second. Presentation, name, who needs it. We should focus on the effectiveness, nothing else.”

Finally locating what you needed from the cabinet, you stand up with it huddled to your chest. A large jar with a sloshing black liquid inside. You unclip your magestone from your breast pocket.

Accelerating towards Jade is another lab table that collides with one he is already seated at. He blinks once in shock and then folds all his other thoughts into the crisper of his cold mind. Disappointment iced over him. Turning, Jade is met with a grin quite like his own when scheming.

Oh!

Gratitude fills his mind, dethawing his previous frost.

He knew that canceling the meetings from yesterday to get you into the VIP room would be worth it. Even if Azul did try to stab back at Jade by making him promise that he would act benevolent, you would be worth it.

Besides, isn’t he always on his best behavior?

Matching your expression, Jade says, “A poison that can kill a dragon?”

Jade had yet to attend one of these exams for becoming Pomefiore’s housewarden. They were hosted in the auditorium and a professor used simulacrum spells to conjure up creatures at the student’s request. Truthfully, Jade had been uninterested because you were not attending.

Your first year you made it stone clear what your goal was and pivoted away from distractions (friends). Despite your goal, you did not attend last year’s summer exam. You know that you did not attend because you were aware no one was going to beat your current housewarden. Jade thinks it was because you had given up. But, right now, he is glad you have not grown so boring after two years of observing.

“The record for poisoning a fabricated dragon is two weeks. That was set by Professor Crewel his first year, yes? How much do you plan to cut that record by? Three days or two days?”

“I hope the poison will claim its life by the fifty-nine minute mark.”

Huh? “Surely, you are exaggerating.”

You give no verbal answer, wearing such a wicked grin. You wave your magestone in a diagonal cut. On the lab table that had joined yours, multiple bottles string up like flowers or mushrooms. Seven … no, nine bottles, all labeled with a skull with a tiny halo over its head.

“No. I am a Pomefiore student. I will always strive to be the best of the best.”

Sevens, you are electrifying. Your energy billows up like a balloon, pushing at the latex and straining to pop. All that static and shocking was enticing to watch. Up close though? It seems to Jade that he will get burned if he does not navigate you carefully and that lovely risk is everything to him.

“Now then,” you clap and interrupt Jade’s train of thought, taking your seat beside him. “I am versed in flowers and chemicals. Mushrooms and toxicities in the sea, I know the basics … That’s where you come and benevolently assist me.”

Despite your grimace at asking for assistance, you are fixated on the eel-mer, waiting to eagerly absorb information. Jade, whose atypical interests were rarely seen as interesting, grows a bit warm at the intense look you are directing towards him.

“Well, I suppose I should give you what you want. As per contractual agreement.” Jade unclips his magic pen from his breast-pocket.

With a flourish of his own magestone, three terrariums neatly stack in the empty space in front of you two. “Pick one.”

You study them all individually and then compare them too. At bottom, brown mushrooms with ringlets of soft white poking through like stretch-marks or slicing scars. A little intriguing but not as much as the middle. Bright orange mushrooms, thin like chips or leaves, are piled onto each other and rest on wet pieces of tree bark. Those are a beauty but ultimately you go with ones in the top terrarium.

Their look is wholly boring and uninteresting. Dull olive green caps and shaped like the typical mushroom is, they intrigue you. There is something so energizing about being near poisons. However, there is something life-changing about sinking your teeth into a cocoon of masquerading innocence, only for the bitter taste of something dangerous to pierce your tongue.

You turn to Jade, Monsieur Mastermind as your vice-housewarden calls him, and point to the top terrarium. “What are these ones?”

“These ones actually cause the majority of poisonings in Twisted Wonderland.” With a wave, the other two terrariums disappear. Jade leans in to lift off the lid, explaining, “They’re called amanitas due to the shape. But the translated names are death cap, death angel, or destroying angels.” He pulls one out, not the smallest of the bunch but the largest either.

“Destroying angels are naturally deceitful. They appear like the common mushroom, the same color and shape. The indicator is the vulva. Other than that, they hide in plain sight and kill those not careful enough to understand them. There is such beauty in that … a dull appearance hiding such violent intentions.”

You cannot help but agree vehemently with him, nodding along. All of his entire explanation felt like it related more to simple mushrooms. It was like a principle of attraction in life.

You look at the remaining ones in the terrarium and ask, “the side effects?”

“First, stomach cramps, loose bowels, and vomiting. Next, it might damage the liver and kidney to irreversible measures. Lastly, cell death or damage of the central nervous system.”

“Amatoxin poisoning. That can kill a person in only two days.”

“Just twenty-one milligrams of amatoxin in the body is fatal. That is perhaps,” Jade suddenly leans into his terrarium and grabs the second smallest, “the amount found in a small one like this. Three bites and you’re facing Death.”

You are exhilarated at the information, staring at the two destroying angels pinched in Jade’s gloved hands. Do they seep through the pie crust of skin, you wonder excitedly. “Are these the deadliest ones in your collection?”

“If I’m comparing a single species to another single species, then yes. Destroying angels alone are more poisonous than any others I know.”

“Good. We start with this one.” You cast a look over to the porcelain bottles. All nine of your prototypes for what you wanted to use in the summer exam sitting neatly there. “There is a variety to test and so little time. And if amatoxin will enhance,” you start to ramble off, mumbles that Jade’s hearing cannot pick up. Suddenly, you are grabbing from the stack of papers and scribbling. Once more, you have completely forgotten Jade is here with you. Though it is nice to watch the crackles of fire alit from you, the Leech brother would rather have your attention.

He leans in, nose almost brushing your shoulder. Still enraptured with your work, it seems.

Jade is a little unsure if this will work. Nicknames are his twin’s territory but he did know that you get disgruntled when hearing the nickname. Probably only because it came from an Octavinelle student, people you did not want to grow close to. But no matter because Jade is growing awfully close to you. Once that distance is closed, he says far too loudly, “Pufferfish.”

You leap and drop your pencil. Huffing and puffing, you turn in your seat. An accusatory glare and scowl battles with Jade’s smile.

“You seem to have forgotten our contract involves collaboration, Pufferfish. You did read it thoroughly, yes?”

You send a glance down to your paper, bewildered by the sight of it. And surprisingly your mouth opens and says …

“Sorry. Don’t usually collaborate.” You magic his chair to slide closer to you. “Ok, so here’s what I’m thinking …”

The past two weeks had been stressful yet eye-opening too. You had been learning a lot more about poisonous mushrooms and toxins in the Coral Sea that you would not typically interact with. However, while making progress, a sapling of doubt was growing inside you. All watered and photosynthesized by one slippery eel. The allusions about betrayal, his sly, ensconcing grins, and every action seemed to have a double meaning or price to pay for later: all of Jade Leech’s personality was driving you nuts!

The worst was when he would say something bone-chilling and dismiss it: “But that is an event we would not want to happen, yes?” or “But I would never say that, surely not I.” or “I simply jest. This would not be in my benevolent interests.” Every sentence seemed to tear you apart mentally.

Apparently, he was doing this because of your defensive action. Apparently, you puffed when he said things like that. You moved as if you were blowing up with invisible spikes, defending yourself and your barracks with a prickly attitude. He had also taken to calling you that nickname that Floyd had for you. You asked him about it a week ago.

“Aren’t fish related nicknames your twin’s thing?”

“Yes, but it annoys you so I would like to join in.”

You gave him a disgruntled hum and continued working.

A few mind-games were not going to discourage you after signing such an important contract, Jade had proven to be useful in expanding your knowledge. You would weather his little tricks and sinister smiles – no matter how much they made your skin crawl with suspicion.

You almost want to test his resolve, test if you can out disturb him. He had words and you had actions. Besides, you cannot ask either Si or Am this question. You were planning to pick those twins to work as your vice-housewarden. If they knew how attracted you were to the image of an overblot, a taboo subject, you might not have a vice-housewarden next year. So, as you two are fiddling with the measurements and burning liquids and powders, you ask Jade:

“When Ashengrotto overblotted, what were your and Floyd’s thoughts?”

It is one of those out of the blues questions. Still, you are still surprised by how Jade manages to keep his composure, hand stilling for no longer than three seconds. A slippery centipede of white teeth crawls on his face, amused, but he keeps his focus on the powder he is pouring.

“When Azul overblotted,” he mused. “Well, I thought what a foolish thing to do. Truly, he should have known better to lose control like that. Floyd was very disappointed in his lack of composure. We expected better of our housewarden.

“Why ask?”

Of course you and Jade would look at overblots and feel different. You two were on two separate planets, labeled Octavinelle and Pomefiore, thus you would never see eye to eye. You hid a scowl behind your hand, stirring your mixture.

“In Pomefiore, you’re expected to have a taste for beautiful art – to create art, be it craft or performance – not that you yourself are beautiful. When Schoenheit overblotted, there was something hypotonic about it. Eldritch beauty. I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous.”

“Were you there when it happened?”

“No. I managed to pick up a video recording of it after numerous favors were given out. It’s so grainy but even still, you can tell he was perfect at that moment. You felt no awe for Ashengrotto?”

“Mermaid forms are sometimes hypotonic to humans and the like. But Azul’s overblot was simply himself but unraveled and foible. It was just not all that stunning to me.”

“They have this saying about art and beauty,” you cannot help yourself from speaking. “Art should disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed.”

“Hm, I can see the appeal. Humans always have such odd little sayings,” Jade muses. And that is the end of that conversation.

Beauty is an important value of Pomefiore; there is no denying that. Magic Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all? But beauty is a volatile word as it is so deeply subjective. And fighting prejudices itself is a big Pomefiore value! However … you twist your pencil in hand, forlornly studying Jade.

You are positive that he knows you are studying him. He simply waits patiently to see if you can entertain him more.

If you reveal this to him, the entirety of Night Raven College might know by the end of the week. Not that you keep it hidden for your own vanity. Though, Vil Schoenheit had strict requirements on what beauty is … If you are to reveal this and Schoenheit finds out, can he disqualify you on the basis that you are too disfigured to be housewarden?

Truly, you have no vanity but to jeopardize your goal. The hand wrapped around your wrist tightens until your bones start to ache. You absolutely cannot jeopardize yourself or risk being disqualified from attending the exam.

But, then again, your vice-housewarden found beauty in everything. If this spread to all of Night Raven College (if Jade revealed it because it would provide him entertainment), Hunt would at least be a voice in Schonheit’s ear, praising your dedication that ran skin deep. You did have some cushioning there. Ok, you were going to do it.

You shrug off the heavy black jacket and start unbuttoning your vest. Jade does not say a word, watching. You let these two articles of clothing drop to the nubs of your stool. You continue by unbuttoning your white collared shirt.

“If you are hoping to get something more physical from our relationship, you should disclose that information in our contract. No matter how embarrassing it might’ve been to discuss it in front of Azul.”

The sides of his lips pull up in a razor-sharp smile. You puff and continue stripping.

“Don’t flatter yourself. All of this is still in pursuit of me being housewarden. There is no need for you to even touch me”

“Oya, then may I employ the reason for you und–” You interrupt him by slamming your dominant arm down on the table. His eyes fall to your mummified arm. A coil of white bandages serpents from the third inch of your wrist to the end of your deltoid, a few inches off from your black tank top. A spark jumps to Jade’s eyes as if someone struck together two rocks. “Oh, what is this?”

“Have much gore can you handle? Be honest.”

That question seems to really add some intensity to his eyes because he moves them off your arm and stares at you. His still lips start twitching up again. “Now, why would an innocent thing like you ask someone like me that?”

“The last time anyone saw this, they threw up on my dorm’s floor. Stop being such a smart-ass, Leech.”

His eyes are like suns. “I have seen things in the Coral Sea that would make you throw up, Pufferfish.”

Good. You move your index and middle finger under where the top bandage is tucked. However, your nose starts to crinkle as you sit there contemplating. Risks are still uncalculated; you have yet to map out every angle at which this could benefit or ruin you. If Schonheit finds out … No, this is in pursuit of making the best poison, no one can fault you for ambition. You start to unfurl your bandages.

To be honest, a demented part of you is excited to see the reaction that notoriously spooky and eldritch Jade Leech will have. So as your hand circles and twists, you watch the sharp profile that watches your hand.

Masking raw emotions behind a tiny, sinister smile is a trait that Jade has mastered. People jump at loud noises, Jade does not even flinch. His body is alarmingly disconnected from the kingdom of his mind.

Enviously, you watch as his features thoroughly remain schooled to neutrality and reveal nothing of his thoughts. Inch by inch, more of your arm you reveal. His mismatched eyes are certainly analyzing, shifting, and evaluating but nothing is truly revealed in his face. The only flicker of discomfort you see is when he swallows hard. His throat bobs slightly when the bandages around your shoulder loosen up. But that could be a totally unrelated act of swallowing. Strangely, you admire his ability to keep an expression that can conceal a thousand more expressions.

Done unwrapping your arm, you begin to fold up the bandages in your hand. To be honest, you can admit that perhaps the lack of reaction is reasonable as your arm has surely looked worse before.

Multiple lacerations of varying degrees and depth climb up your arm. The orange-yellow fat of your upper arm is exposed in some areas like the backs of poisonous toads breaking through mud. A concave spot of burnt brachial muscle is oozing black-red again. Sometimes, your ring finger still twitches desperately from that wound; the nerves are similar to old chargers that need to be pinched and settled specifically to create charge.

Tooth white of your humerus bone plays peek-a-boo at you from the cave of maroon, peach, and black. You still have skin but it is a raw yellow tint from surface wounds or poison. However, there are barely three inches of real skin left clinging like desperate webs to your upper shoulder. Which might have earned you the motion of Jade’s throat rippling with a deep gulp.

No matter, it is healing up better than most days.

Cautious to not touch the steel table again (no matter how clean), you begin by trying to locate an island of skin to test. You are pulled from your exploration when a voice asks:

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Why? Worried about me?”

“Not particularly.”

“Ouch, that hurts my feelings, Leech.” You fake a frown until you finally can locate a patch of remaining skin. “Hand me our poison.” The vial is deposited between your non-dominant index and thumb.

Once the cap is off, you say. “My tenth birthday. Just some poison ivy on the path to my middle school. That set me in my ways. All because some teacher said to never touch leaves that look like those and I was curious as to the reason.”

“Floyd had a similar experience. Spotted trunkfish. They were so colorful that Floyd thought to ignore our parents' warning to never touch fish that looked like that. He grew quite sick after a lick.”

Well, that is certainly unexpected.

Not the story about Floyd. You could easily conjure up an image of him going to bite the leopard spotted skin of such a fish only to have a colorless toxin poison him. Yet, Jade actually revealing some information about himself — well, actually it is about his brother, so then information about their childhood – is strange for the tight-lipped twin. Perhaps he only told you so you can contemplate using trunkfish’s toxin at a later date.

Still. You cough a laugh into your elbow. Then, you rotate the arm for better access to unblemished skin.

“Adults avoid revealing necessary information like the plague. They never want to give the reason for why something shouldn’t be done.”

“Perhaps, they just want to see it done so they remain quiet.”

“Hm, perhaps. Everyone needs a bit of entertainment,” you mutter, administering altered fluorine. Is that perhaps the reason why Jade Leech is here; why he had gotten you into Azul’s office within an hour? Entertainment is a feasible reason. Silently, both of you watch the effects.

Sizzling skin, rashes, deep lacerations: all of this pain you were used to. Repetition of self experiment did eventually lead to sensory neurons quieting down and accepting the abuse. So as smoke starts to rise off your arm, Jade is surprised by the composure in your face.

Smoke rises in a tiny cloud before pretzel-ing itself into a little skull. The skull thuds once then twice in the air like a heartbeat. Breaking apart, it leaves as acid starts to tunnel down into your flesh. You remain still, watching with a clenched fist.

Acid digs and digs, past the numerous layers of skin and fat. You wrap a protective ward around the intricate, branching neuron system. Like a growing virus in a petri dish, you watch the acid start to jump from fat to fat from muscle to muscle, licking at all the surrounding areas.

Good to see that it spreads instead of tunneling. An essential aspect to chart about each poison.

Finally, it reaches the bone like you were hoping. Absorbed fluorine can bond with calcium cells. If the spells and chemicals added work, this administered fluorine should bond through touch alone.

Close and close it inches until — “Ah, I thought I would find you here, (Name).”

Jade, alert, turns even though he was not addressed. Ah, it is one of those twins that always tails after you like imprinted kittens. He cannot tell where it is Si or it is Am. Curious, Jade turns to look at you for the answer which twin he is dealing with before a usually concealed emotion passes over his face.

Surprise.

You grip your magestone like you are afraid that it will run away. Residues of a spell fall over in lilac sparkles. Yet, the most surprising part to Jade is that you are fully redressed, every article of clothes summoned back to their neat place. Even the snake of bandages you had removed are spiraled back on your arm, concealed under layers of the Night Raven College uniform.

“Hi Si,” you smile like nothing is unusual. “You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, Vil is making everyone in the dorm attend this etiquette class tonight. Some of us were sent to collect anyone who was out of the dorm. I lose rock-paper-scissors against Am.”

Etiquette class? A fucking etiquette class? When you become a housewarden, you would never call your dorm students to do such a frivolous activity like learning how to distinguish types of spoons. Schoenheit had everything you wanted and was wasting it. You, on the other hand, would push your dorm students in meaningful ways – by making them study poisons and work towards creating lethal injections.

“Ah I see. Just let me,” you shift up from your chair. With a startling speed, you vanish all of your supplies from the table. Almost as if you are trying to hide … before Jade can continue thinking on that thought, you say, “Next time, call me.”

“Yeah, I know but,” Si’s eyes flicker over to Jade. “Next time, ok? I’ll make sure to call next time.”

“Thank you.” You pocket your pen as Jade stands. Giving him a once over, you say, “Next time for us too? I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yes, see you then.” You nod gratefully and start to walk away with Si. Stupid etiquette class. Underneath your bandages, you are acutely aware of the working poison that you cannot visually study. It slithers and crawls over the maroon meat in your arm. There is an insectoid itch to just rip off the bandages just to see – fuck Schoenheit, you knew what a salad fork was! “Oh, and Pufferfish?”

“Yeah?” You turn.

You are startled by how close he is leaning to you. His mismatched eyes are burning intensely like stars and his smile is moonlight. He rests one bare (when did he take off his gloves?) hand to your neck, rubbing a thumb to the skin laying like a pie-crust sheet over your voicebox. “Thank you for your vulnerability.”

The itch stops as does your footfall. Raw prickling sensation is washed over and replaced by something much stronger. The pumping, panicking flood of your heart.

Sevens, were you going to regret that? Metaphorically, you just pulled down the collar of your dress shirt to a cannibal. Oh, this is not a good investment. You give a quick nod to Jade and flee, with Si close behind, giving you a curious look. As you learn meaningless dining etiquette and posture, that sentence stays with you.

Lying in bed that night, you imagine the sensation is a half-baked dream that comes to you as you fall into sleep. A bubble of blot floating to the surface of your pen.

Mint foam falls out of your mouth in surprise. “Wh-what!” You snatch up your magic pen. No bigger than a facial mole, a speck of blot has dirtied up your magestone. Frantically, you rub your thumb over the mark. Don’t panic. It could be from a stain from your inked papers or perhaps rubbed eraser bits sticking to the surface. You scrub harder at the unrelenting mark.

“Shit shit shit,” you moan as you rush into the bathroom to spit out your toothpaste. “No, no, no,” you bemoan louder when you dip your magestone under the water and the mark remains, a tiny lemur-like pupil staring at you. Sevens, what are you to do now!

The world seems to tilt as you rest your head on the chilled faucet. Slowly, bit by bit, your anxiety begins to pluck your mind out of your ear like it is bad stuffing that was put into a toy wrong. You feel like you are losing your mind.

A trembling hand reaches out to retrieve your violet towelette off the rack, scrubbing the mint off your lips. Senselessly, you stuff the rag stuffed in your mouth. Holding it there, feeling the soft fiber filaments brushing your tongue and gums. With pained abandon, you scream into the soft fabric. You slam the rag down when your caterwauling is finished.

Overblotting? You cannot overblot when you have so much ahead of you. Unconsciously, your body slides down to the corner of the bathroom like a defeated sticky hand falling into a heavy heap of lint and dirt, feeling muddled and disgusted.

A fire erupts on your skin, shoulders and above, roasting your thoughts. It takes an hour to calm yourself down. You ignore Si and Am when they come to collect you – not like they stay long. Sitting, knees tucked to your chest in your bathroom, you went through the motions. Your body refrains from crying, gritting teeth and gripping fingers are your only outlet for stress. Then, the embers reach your arms and smolder out in billowing smoke. Your consciousness slowly returns to you.

Pursue your goal to become Pomefoire’s housewarden. You realize as the fire dies that you had to keep doing what you had been doing all along. To avoid overblotting, you need to ground yourself with your goal. The dot of blot is so tiny! You criticize yourself for panicking so badly. Yet, when you go to pick yourself up in the physical sense, your fingers are still trembling.

The botanical gardens. The botanical gardens. You need to go there and calm down. You shove your magic pen in the pocket of your slacks instead of letting it be exposed to the world in your chest pocket. Despite picking yourself up mentally, you still walk like someone is in a daze. Just get to the botanical gardens and find something to experiment with. You go to imagine comforting oleanders or deathly nightshades but all you see are destroying angels. Tightening your teeth, you push open the lips of your dorm and exit on the tongue of your carpet.

You finally feel like you have returned to yourself when the smell of it all rushes to meet you. A scent that fills your veins and roots you. The tang of rich soil, the bite of fresh rain water, the kiss of flora. You could never be away from the land; this smell of earth would be devastatingly missed.

Inhaling deeply, you close the glass door and drift deeper in. There are no classroom activities in the impressive greenhouse until afternoon so you are cleared to explore. Speckled around the vast garden are a few students, studying for herbology, potionology, or something else. Hands sitting on your churning stomach, you make sure to drift around and away from them.

There is such a beauty in here that makes you grateful to be enrolled in Night Raven College. Carried on oily breezes, freckled sunlight enriches everything that it touches and magnifies their hues. It is a renaissance of vibrant childhood wonder from rich reds to popping purples. How gorgeous land is.

As you go, you gather a few yellow angel’s trumpets and blue larkspurs in your hands. You twine the stems one by one, ignoring how the larkspurs start to sizzle against the skin of your hands. An ugly rash will bloom on your palms in the morning. Still, you keep braiding stem by stem, trying to make a senseless pattern in your collection.

You are so intent on your braiding that you make one of the worst mistakes anyone can make in the botanical gardens and step on a lion’s tail. An agitated growl is all the warning you get. As quick as a frog, you jump up and narrowly miss the five claws that swiped where your ankles had been.

With a loud thump, your landing turns a few heads. “Hello, housewarden Kingscholar. Sorry for the disturbance.”

You frequented the botanical garden like an addicted gambler to a casino. You had come to learn everything about it, even Kingscholar’s napping habits and habits when he was not napping. You still remember the way your sock filled with blood your first year when you accidentally woke up Kingscholar.

As the grumbling lion rises up, a few leaves caught in his brown hair, you cast an apologetic smile down to him. Striking green eyes narrow at the sight of you. “Ah, (Name) (Last Name). The one who challenged the Dark Mirror themself.”

You roll your eyes at that as he has always greeted you that way. When were people going to drop that? No matter, you would prove them all foolish when you became a housewarden. Then, people would know you as that instead of capitalizing on something insignificant that happened forever ago.

Because when anyone mentions it, bile rises up to your throat.

“The shape of your soul is Octavinelle!”

You blink awestruck. Huh? You shift your eyes around the mirror chamber as if trying to locate the soul that the Dark Mirror is talking to. However, you know that he is addressing you as dread starts exploding in your chest in sharp bursts. That cannot possibly be right. Is it stuffy in here, the thought flickers over your brain as you try to steady your wild breathing.

The noises around you swallow you whole. Shuffling of polished shoes, the person behind you in line stepping up to take your place. Distance chatter of other students, theorizing on which dorm they will be sorted into. The sound of your — no, Octavinelle’s housewarden, some shark-mer, calling out your first and last name. All of it so loud and obnoxious. All of it is wrong. Your fists unclench and clench rapidly by your side. All of this idiotic noise is –

“You’re wrong!” You spit at the mirror, shattering the cacophony around you.

The student behind you comes to a grinding halt and everyone’s heads turn towards you. You care little, glaring up at the Dark Mirror, and shouting, “You made a mistake! Look at my soul again! You’ll know where I belong!”

Crowley pinches his golden talons up to the filigree metal resting over his nose, summoning up a deep, tired breath. There is always one student. Egotistically set in their ways, they believe they are granted a right to whatever dorm they please. Moving to medicate this ordeal, the Headmaster waves his hand and opens his mouth to speak.

“You!” You turn on him, glaring venomously. “Quiet!”

The ebony feathers on his shoulders seem to gain sentience and ruffle with agitation. Why you rude little thing — Crowley was not expecting the first expulsion to fall on Orientation but —

You fall into a bow, legs standing and head colliding with your knees. A cloak of murky green light falls over your figure. “I know the shape of my soul because it is mine and mine alone. I know that if you look at my soul again, you will realize your mistake. I will accept a beheading or euthanization if I am proven wrong.”

You turn your gaze up towards the mirror, “But even dying, I will be assured you are still in the wrong, Dark Mirror.”

Crowley, having stopped to listen, quickly regains himself. You have quite a little mouth on you, he thinks as he darts to grab you and expel you from his college. The Dark Mirror is unquestionable and omnipotent; you are nothing but an ant begging to not be stepped on. He makes it about halfway to you when —

“Stop.”

The Dark Mirror’s lips fall into a tight line once more. Somehow, the hue of green radiating from the capsule the mask is trapped in glows even brighter.

Crowley is shocked when he realizes the mirror is talking to him.

“I will grant the request of this student to re-read the shape of their soul. Step closer, child.”

You make no mistake this time in your approach. Perhaps anxiety had kept you tethered to a spot too far away from the Dark Mirror. Boldly, you place your dominant hand down upon the glass. People start once more murmuring but you are stone in your resolve. Let the Dark Mirror judge; let it feel past your fingers into the burnt and serrated flesh crawling up your arm; let it taste your dedication and know the shape of your soul.

It takes half of a far too long minute of calculating and reading before the Dark Mirror gives you your answer.

“The shape of your soul is Pomefiore!” You withdrew your hand.

And though it had mattered little to you, housewardens and vice-housewardens and professors and the group of students you shared a year with still talk about it: the only student who got the Dark Mirror to change their dorm. The one moment in Night Raven College history where the Dark Mirror made a mistake. You crinkle your nose at the lion.

“That story’s old history.” You puff and tighten your grip on your bouquet. Oh, the larkspurs are definitely going to leave a rash. “I don’t see why I need to have such a long, tedious nickname tied to such a boring event.”

“Truly self righteous, aren’t you, (Name)?”

“Well, it’s a mouthful, so I can’t see it sticking anyways.” You meddle with your flowers. “Besides, there are more interesting stories like Enma Yuuken. The Dark Mirror might be getting senile, putting me in the wrong dorm at first then the carriage carts a magicless student into our school.”

Pointed teeth smile at you. “Come on now. You? You criticizing the oh, so respectable Dark Mirror is unheard of. What pissed you off?”

“I love the Pomefoire dorm and this school, but I can admit when things are turning upside down.”

The enrollment of a magicless student, the mistakes that both the Dark Mirror and Crowley were making, … the multiple overblots. You try to ignore the weight in your pocket. Night Raven College had been having an unusual couple of years.

“Still, I thought you had an avoidance policy for Octavinelle? After the Dark Mirror tried to put you there.”

Oh, so that is why he brought up the incident with the Dark Mirror due to your relations with Octavinelle. As you stirred your flowers, you had been trying to figure out Kingscholar’s goal. Everyone in your year was at least aware of your hatred for Octavinelle. Working with Jade Leech, no matter how smart, he was still an Octavinelle student. You were not one for secrecy so yours and Jade’s mysterious relations had probably became the next grape on the vine.

Still, you could've only been seen interacting with him in the Pomefiore labs or the botanical garden as you avoided him in class. “He asked me for tutoring with potionology. Having Leech indebted to me is sure to be a plus when I become Pomefiore’s housewarden.”

“Is that so?” From his lounging pose, he suddenly strikes up. Jade is only five centimeters taller than him. Still, you feel more crushed like a rat in a cat’s paws under those emerald eyes than mismatched ones. Brunette hair billows around his angular face and starts to brush you when he leans in close. “Has scenting become part of tutoring now?”

Scenting? Did the lingering smell of certain poison stain your clothes? You always experimented with poisons whose smell lingered on your arm since before Orientation and no one said anything. Si and Am had been looking at you weird since a week ago, is it a cat thing?

You furrow your expression at the too close incline Kingscholar has over your body. This is typical of him. Whenever you were in the botanical gardens during daylight, a lion would find itself leaning over you. Still, you should maintain your promise that you would stay on the benevolent side of every housewarden and not bite back. You even managed to smile at Malleus Draconia two weeks ago! Though it had sent shivers down your spine and left you dizzy with terror. So be nice to Kingscholar, you remind yourself, though you are always nice to Kingscholar.

You puff in surprise at his next move. Leona moves his face to rest his chin on the crook of your collarbone. Getting a face full of voluminous hair, you spit when some gets too close to your mouth. If your hands were not occupied with flowers, you would poke him. Instead, you vouch to remind, “No sleeping on me while standing, Kingscholar.”and dig your chin into his head.

Your only response is a soft sniffle against your neck. You twitch at the feel of it.

“If the smell of cyanide on me is bothersome, my apologies, Housewarden Kingscholar.”

“Nonsense, I like that scent on you.” He moves back and starts to mess with the flowers in your hand, claws poking at petals. “This other smell though –”

Leona stiffens. His keen eyes flicker up to your face and then back down to the flowers. Like an insect sprayed with water, his nose twitches and twitches.

What is he so concerned about? But then, one of his fingerless gloved hands starts to go down to your waist. Terror reaches out as Leona does, squeezing your heart like a mutt ripping into their favorite toy. Ice shoots down into your burning, rash-covered fingertips. You had forgotten, as you lingered here in conversation with Leona, that he could smell magic. The crumbs and residue of a spell. The stain of an overblot dot. You go to jump back when –

“Ah, Pufferfish, I thought I would find you here.”

It is a moment of convenience and parrying, you harshly remind yourself as you look with eager eyes at Jade Leech. You had completely forgotten about the break between second and third period. Perhaps he was hoping to spend time with his terrariums? Whatever the reason, you will take your exit graciously.

Annoyance paints Leona’s face as you slip through his grasp like sand. You bound over to Jade’s side and quickly go to speak about his ‘tutoring’, knowing he is sly enough to catch on. Yet you are interrupted as he observes the poisonous flowers in your hands and smiles, “Ah, are those for me? How generous.”

You try to ignore it. You really try to submerge the feeling in the back of your mind but it erupts in a heat across your neck and ears. “O-Oh, I. I um.”

“Thank you,” Jade smiles and delicately peels the larkspurs and angel’s trumpets from your hands. He admires the braided stems. “Angel’s trumpets. You do always seem drawn to the things named after angels. Fufufu, quite fitting, indeed.”

The flush over your skin dies when you hear a low growl behind you. You turn to Leona, a brief shock in your eyes. “Ah, housewarden Kingscholar,” you start and the anger seems to deflate out of Leona, typical annoyance adorning his face. “I have to go. Leech and I are actually going to do some studying on these types of flowers. I’ll see you later?”

Despite the fact anger is gone from Leona’s expression, his tail is shifting behind him, contemplating his motions. His eyes trail to the flowers clutched in Jade’s gloved hands. “See you later. Don’t disturb my nap next time.”

Taking the opportunity, you and Jade exit. Though you mourn being gone from the fresh air of the botanical gardens, you are grateful to have escaped with your secret (which makes your worry about said secret less tantalizing than before). You and Jade stride in silence for a while. He is surprisingly finishing braiding the remaining flowers that you missed, content to ignore you. You start to feel that familiar flame crawl up your shoulders, worrying about that black dot. You bring a thumb to your mouth, biting at the edge.

Noticing, Jade pops the head off one angel’s trumpet and hands it to you. “What are the side effects of this one? No flowers grow in the Coral Sea.”

You gratefully take the cone-headed flower, rolling it around in your bare fingertips. “If you ingest them, fever, hallucinations, and persistent memory disturbances, to name a few things. When brewed in tea, they can block this compound that sends signals to cells to do specific body functions and results in delirium. Ingest a whole bouquet, you’re looking at death and a life without children.” Jade lifts an eyebrow at that. “They’ll paralyze your dick.”

“Oh,” the eel-mer grows a bit paler in his cheeks. You start to chuckle, feeling a little of the weight that had been crushing you earlier lift off. “Truly a deadly angel. Hm, you said something about brewing them in tea.”

You puff at him, “Don’t think I’ll be willing to drink anything you serve me. I wouldn’t trust bottled water from your hands.”

“And yet you drank a drink Floyd presented you with when signing our contract. How cruel of you. Perhaps you should have made a deal with him instead.”

“Don’t joke like that.” The eel-mer gives you that odious smile. A grimace falls on your face at the sight of him looking happy.

Still … you made a promise to maintain good-naturedness with NRC’s housewardens and their second in command were simply an extension of them. “Leech. Thank you for retrieving me.”

“Ah, it is no problem. You looked like you needed an out. I provided one.” Still … you want to gripe that it meant a lot to you, but you rather not push it. If the sycophantic was going to act against his nature and help you, accept it. “To be frank, think nothing of it; I’m positive that you will get me back eventually.” Spoke too soon.

“Yes, I’m sure you and Azul have already created an outlined list of each small favor you had done for me during our time under contract.”

“All completed with dates and times,” Jade adds helpfully.

You chuckle, pressing the angel's trumpet to your lips. Inhaling the sweet scent, you think how monumental it is that eating such a plant could make someone fall into a coma. Truly, magical spells are petite stars compared to the universe of power nature has given the world. So enamored with the upside-down umbrella-like petals, you blink in surprise once realizing both of you are walking towards the Hall of Mirrors.

“Have you always been so close with that lion?”

Your shoulders rise in surprise. “Kingscholar? Yeah, we’re close. He naps in the botanical gardens often and I’m in there experimenting. We know each other fairly well. Though I’d rather not be the spot that he decides to nap on.”

This time you notice he is not looking at you. Odd, when you were speaking a moment ago, you two held each other’s gazes. He has his eyes trained towards his ‘gifted’ bouquet as if trying to shield something from you.

“I had not realized. Perhaps, I have not been to the botanical gardens as frequently as I thought.” His keen eyes cut a perfect bisecting line across your features. Bristling under his harsh attention, you listen as he says, “Do you see him as a friend like Si and Am?”

“I try to keep every housewarden in my good graces. If he does not graduate, I’ll be standing beside him at Orientation. I would rather our relationship be more stable than the one between him and Schoenheit.”

And that is the honest truth. You had already tried your hardest to become friends with Rosehearts and Al-Asim. You were slightly successful both times as they were rather easy to appease in their own ways. Ashengrotto had proven to be a harder buyer of your friendship, especially since you were very opposed to stepping into Octavinelle. Still, remaining cordial with Kingscholar was planned too because he might stay back another year. Yet, you never spoke to Schoenheit.

As Jade is contemplating your words, you two enter the Hall of Mirrors. It is slightly dense with students, coming from free periods into Night Raven College. You step close to Jade and look up.

“Housewarden Kingscholar is just, well he’s just that. Housewarden Kingscholar.”

Seemingly this pleases Jade because he gives a little satisfied hum at the answer. “Well,” he starts as he picks the angel’s trumpet out of your hands. “I can see no one will be breaking through your barricades any time soon. Not unless they’re equipped with a tank of sorts.”

He takes the yellow flower and places it on the nook of your ear. His fingers move down and down until he reaches your neck, rubbing his thumb against it again. What was up with that?

“Well, my shift at Mostro Lounge starts this period so I should be going.” You nod, sharing the sentiment.

“Perhaps you can grace me with your presence sometime. Floyd will serve your drink.”

“Anyone ever have the guts to tell you that your jokes aren’t funny?”

“I happen to be known as a very fun-gi by those close to me.”

“That was awful, Leech.”

Seconds before you depart from each other, Jade instructs you, “Take a shower when you get back to your dorm.” You blink at him as he starts to slip a leg into the Octavinelle mirror. “Just … benevolent advice.” And then, with your bouquet in hand, the flickering mirror slides over him like a wave and Jade Leech is gone.

┉┉

Jade is smiling. Which in itself is not unusual. Jade is typically always smiling, eyes angled up and a polite simper on his features. The roulette of emotions he shows on his face is few but smiling seems to be a constant.

This smile is something different, though. One that is barely concealing its malice mirth with tiny twitches. Like he has a knife attached to his sleeve, gearing to slit your throat ear to ear. If you shrink into yourself a little, you tell yourself it is self defense rather than cowardice.

And he’s walking faster towards you than usual! Sevens, he might just be plotting to kill you.

He comes in front of the steel desk with one hand over his heart and the other behind his back. You noticed it briefly when he was discussing destroying angel mushrooms but it is more prominent now. When Jade is pleased, his eyes glow slightly. Dim luminous yellow like a pinprick of a flashlight, yellow gliding over his eyelashes.

“Good morning, Pufferfish.”

“You seem awfully pleased, Leech.” The hand that you decided conveniently to place your neck on is self defense, you remind yourself. “You managed to steal the spot of housewarden from Azul? Discover a new species of mushroom?”

“Though it is regrettable not the latter, I can assure you that I am ‘awfully pleased’ for reasons that you will be most gratuitous for.”

Oh that is not a good sign. Shifting in your seat, you say, “Okay, I’m biting. What’s got you so happy?”

Grin growing, he pulls his non-dominant hand from his spine and holds his source of happiness out to you. You almost faint.

You stare at the vial as if it will suddenly combust like a poorly wired bomb or grow teeny legs to visit the Headmaster to snitch. Then, your heart starts pounding excited bursts. You leap over the desk and grab Jade by his tie, hissing, “How did you even manage to get this!”

“The Octavinelle dorm prides itself on benevolently helping others in need. If there is a problem, we procure a solution. Thus, due to this sympathetic principle, we do have connections in every dorm, and with every housewarden.”

“Ashengrotto managed to get blackmail on Schoenheit!”

“Fufufu, to me, blackmail is such a crass word. But it is better to be the one holding the debt, than be indebted.”

Hand still clutching Jade’s tie, you turn and stare down at the vial. It is the poison that made Vil Schoenheit housewarden after his first year attending NRC. You had watched the broadcast as often as you did your housewarden’s overblot. Enraptured and drawn in by the ferocity of a Pomefiore’s housewarden. How you yearned to be that grand and perfect. As perfectly pristine as the lacy, overblot insignia on Schoenheit’s forehead. In Jade’s hand was an achievement that any Pomefiore student would kill to have. And Jade has it held out to level with your nose! You do not realize it but your features are inches away from brushing his cheek as you lean in. Fixated, you stare at the bluish-green liquid like it is a winning lottery ticket. The gluttonous liquid stares back.

In awe, you whisper, “Who would have imagined Schoenheit caught up in strings?” You reach out a finger to briefly draw a line down the vial. “So pretty. Poison is so pretty.” Like a mage has placed a potent charm on your soul, you are bewitched by the sight of the vial.

You snap out of it when Jade’s chuckle blows warm air on the side of your face. Suddenly realizing the distance between the two of you is not even considered distance, you quickly fall back into your seat. Your heart is pounding rapidly; is it because of the lack of distance or being so close to that poison?

“Be honest, how did you manage to get it? No way this came easy. A Pomefiore’s housewarden’s pride is their ability to make a winning poison.”

“Vil is an individual meticulous about his looks. That’s his main pride. Floyd and I happened to halt the production of one of his skincare products in order for me to retrieve this for you.” Then, shockingly, Jade slowly grabs your dominant hand and unfurls the fingers. You shiver at his unhesitant touch. He drops the vial into your grasp. Grip on it sturdy, you look up at Jade’s radiating eyes.

“Wait. You’re giving this to me.”

He halted the entire production of skincare? Were there recognizable name brand products under the management of the Octavinelle trio? You couldn’t have guessed that their influence was that large. Struck with some warm, foreign emotion, your eyes trail back down to the hypnotizing, lovely poison in your hand. “But why?” Why would Jade Leech ever pull a single string in the marionette of influence that he and his two friends had over NRC for you?

Answering your question, Jade straightens his posture and a hand falls to his chest, “Like previously stated, it is better to be the one holding the debt than be indebted.”

Oh. A frost falls over whatever unknown warmth had previously enraptured you. You realize what you hold on your hand is far from a gift but a leash. A bit of blackmail to hang over you at all times. A knife always at the back. No good deed comes without a price to pay – unsurprisingly, this is another debt to that outlined list.

As if noticing your sudden emotional shift, Jade amends, “but this time you can be assured that when time comes for me to cash in, it will make you awfully pleased. Trust me.”

“That’s asking the impossible, Leech,” you sigh.

Despite your words, you roll the vial around in your hand anyways. You are already thinking of all the things you can do with the treasure in your possession. First will be dissecting the ingredients. Or should you test it on your arm? A delighted shiver runs down your back. You feel like you are on cloud nine.

You have been facing trouble almost all your life. Truly what was one more offense? If Jade was not being deceitful then this would work in your favor. Sycophants were not usually known for such generosity. Maybe you misjudged the eel – if only a little bit.

“Leech.” You cannot believe you are about to say this. “Thank you. You didn’t have to and I didn’t ask for it. So, thank you.” There you go, out with it, no matter if it feels like chewing nails.

His smiles turn a bit warmer. Yet, in typical fashion of his, he weighs his next words carefully. What should it be: Azul and I; the Octavinelle dorm; or I, singular. Instead, Jade omits himself, “Azul expects great things from you when you are a housewarden, Pufferfish. Don’t disappoint him.”

A prideful grin materializes on your face. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” You pull Jade’s seat out from under the table. “Sit. I’m dying to test this.”

Jade makes no move to sit. You are arrogant to his plight, eagerly unbuttoning your vest. He traces his eyes over your collarbone, the ridges where bone pushes up. Drawing his eyes over the brightness of your eyes and the speed of your fingers. The collared shirt falls to the ground. The tiniest hit of muscle tone in your unbandaged arm stirs up his slippery intestines. Upon being so close, observing, Jade thinks he might get cold feet. But

“I also brought this for you.”

His words are apprehensive; his self-assured smile is strained. Your hand stops fiddling with the tied part of your bandages. Whatever Jade is appearing to hand over to you must be more dangerous than the vial you grip. Nails snap into your flesh like an activated bear-trap. Dreadfully, you remember your new possession could usher you into expulsion. You wait with baited breath.

“It is a gift. I,” Jade clears his throat, seemingly frustrated with himself, “I thought that with your affection for poisonous things that you would enjoy it.” He waves his magestone through the humid air. A lavender comet paints the air briefly.

At first, an irrational part of you worries he will summon a sulfuric liquid to pour over your head in a sick joke. So though your muscles slightly tighten up, Jade still goes through with his spell. Worry withers. You spring up upon seeing what he has summoned.

“Wow.”

In front of you sits a terrarium. The glass structure is shaped like a tiny gnome house, perhaps about one quarter smaller than a gingerbread house. Elegant black metal twirls around the pentagon’s sides. Moss and soil with a few decorative pieces of bark lie on the bottom. Inside lies two destroying angels, one taller than the other. It is oddly sentimentally of Jade.

There comes that warm, strange emotion again. What is it? Perhaps, your addiction to self-done tests is eroding a part of your stomach or ribs. Is some acid sitting dormant in your chest, waiting until Jade does something unexpected?

“Thank you.”

You push the thought away. Nothing to be concerned about.

┉┉

“So. Jade Leech?”

Really, you should learn to collar your emotions. Why did Night Raven College not teach a course about emotional intelligence? Perhaps then every housewarden would not be falling in a domino effect of overblotting. Trying fruitlessly to relax your shoulders, you ask over them, “What about him?”

“You just have been spending a lot of time with him.”

“I agree. It is almost weekly at this point.”

“Almost daily if I remember correctly, just not Tuesdays or Thursdays.”

“Odd.”

“Truly odd.”

Bristling, you send a venomous look over your shoulder. “I don’t like what you’re implying.” The siamese twins give you a matching expression of mock confusion.

“Implying what?” Si asks.

“Implying what?” Am asks.

You roll your eyes to the ceiling and continue down Night Raven’s halls. The twins had been flanking (in their words, escorting you) since you all left Humanities. Usually, this would not bother you. Catty and sly, they were still your friends. You even planned to pick one of them as your vice-housewarden when the time came.

You just really do not like what they were implying.

Am tucks a strand of hair between his ear and says, “It is just odd that after your self-proclaimed ban on anything involving Octavinelle that you would hang out with the vice-housewarden of Octavinelle so often.”

Si adds in, flicking dust off his tail, “We all know you are not dumb enough to sign up a contract with Azul. So what has you so enthralled with that eel?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the motions. Are they truly disturbed the thought of you hanging out with Jade Leech? Though their body language was quite different from yours. Still, how sweet of them.

“Are you in trouble, (Name)? If you ever need a fish flayed, you have two cats at the defense.” Am puts an elbow on your shoulder.

Si follows along, “Little eel wouldn’t know what hit him.”

You chuckle at their offers. Si and Am are certainly dangerous students. Deep crystal blue eyes (framed by golden hair with black tips) that were shrewd and curious. Two matching sets of claws for each of them that could shred skin easily. Large fangs only visible when they chose to intimidate. Unpredictable and volatile cats.

At least with Floyd Leech and Jade Leech, you had a little distinction with who you were dealing with due to their unmatched hair. The siamese twins were perfect clones of each other, adding to the turbulent experience of interacting with them.

“I can take care of myself,” you say, grateful to finally come up to the door of Divus Crewel’s class. “Though, the offer is not on a time limit, is it?” A playful, unserious smile grows on your face.

“Of course not,” both of them say in unison.

You laugh and disappear through the door, singing “Have a good day you two.” You miss it, but as soon as your back is turned, those shrewd blues eyes sink down into malice, cutting glares.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ah!”

You jump in surprise. Why are you so surprised, you arranged for Jade to meet you here? Hand on your heart, you greet the eel-mer with a timid smile as he leans over, teeth on display. It is quite cute that he tucks that black strand behind his ear when wearing safety goggles. Heart slowing, you scold, “Warn me before you speak.”

His eyes narrow yet his smile stays present. Chuckling, Jade stands up to his full height and stalks off. He truly is sinister in his motions at times, never revealing too much. “So. How did you manage to get Crewel’s classroom empty?”

“I offered up study sheets for Crewel’s upcoming exam to get the students that were going to use this room today.”

“Hm, where have I heard that before?”

Upset that he is comparing you to his housewarden (who is in Octavinelle), you bump your hip into his. “Watch it, Leech.”

It brings back that nagging thought all the same. You gather up your lab coat as Jade moves a couple of items around the room. Octavinelle. Why did destiny try to push you into somewhere you did not belong? Fingers buttoning up the coat, you seethe at the idea. Were you contorting and bending yourself into a position you did not belong to; to you, it is either become the housewarden of Pomefiore or become nothing – your train of thought ends when Jade puts the vial of poison in your gloved hands. He has finished setting up the cauldrons to analyze the simple ingredients of Schoenheit’s poison. No. This was right. And for some reason what encourages that thought is not the vial but the smile on Jade’s face.

┉┉

Dead ends. The end of a road or passage from which no exit is possible. Dead ends in artwork, staring at a computer or canvas and unable to create. Dead ends in jobs, accepting the placement of yourself that has no chance of advancement into a higher position. Dead ends in academics, coming to the point where you had wrung out the last bit of your knowledge into a project.

You were sure that just around the bend, your nose would punch into concrete and your stubbed toes would ache in a grueling pain. The passage that you were taking to Pomefiore housewarden would summon a blocking wall. Faith would call you to struggle up it and climb. But … your nose was raw from past collisions and your heels were numb from previous efforts, another climb might mean you would slip down. Crunch and splat when you drop. Emotionally, you just felt exhausted and raw.

Jade might have been right, you would never be satisfied despite numerous testing trails. Your poison could kill a dragon in a day and you would go on trying for a lethal dose that worked in twenty-three hours, then moving onto twenty-two hours. Why were you like this?

Lamenting, you toss over in bed. The ceiling blinks at you, uncomforting. You rest the back of your hand on your forehead as if you were checking for a temperature. Jumbled legs twist the lilac sheets and you ask one of Sevens to aid you into sinking into the bed. You feel like some cheap rendition of Fuseli’s The Nightmare, locked in by this mood. Slowly, you slide your head over the side of your bed so the world tilts upside down. Your dominant hand knuckles kiss the floor, bandages stretching from the arc. There is a more accurate rendition.

Self-experimenting on your arm usually grounded you in volatile times. A new burn cries on your shoulder as you roll your knuckle on the ground. Dealing with both speckles of blot and the upcoming exam … well, self-experimentation was not providing the usual security.

You fidget your hand in senseless motions, thinking and thinking. Your contract was signed for the purpose of opening new doors to you. Granted, Jade Leech did have the keys to access them but – “Yet your shortcomings are making you fail. I can only aid so much.” and those shimmering eyes stamp themselves in your mind.

You spring up in bed!

Flipping yourself off the bed, you growl and kick when your legs get tangled in the sheets. Your shortcomings. Your shortcomings would not be what got in the way of becoming Poemfiore’s housewarden. The brick wall that would be found around the bend would not be your own reflection!

Riding off that positive energy, you hover over your dresser. You had a minimal amount of clothes, so most of the dresser was filled and packed with papers relating to your research along with your poisons. Sealed with your own magic, of course. Trusting public storage lockers, even if locked by Divus Crewel himself, made you nervous.

You look at all the locked drawers, hand starting to reach for your magic pen when you suddenly stop. The terrarium Jade had given you rested on the solid-wood top. Destroying angels. The twin angels nestle against each other, one tall and the other medium sized.

Before you really comprehend yourself, you are lifting up the glass-house top and using the poker to lock it into an open position. Carefully, trying to not disturb the foliage, you pluck up an angel.

“My own shortcomings, hm,” you murmur and twist the mushroom around. You refuse to fail because of yourself. Perhaps, you are self-experimenting in the wrong places. You had tasted poison before but … “I’ll tell it to Leech when I see him,” you decide and take a bite of the poisonous mushroom.

You just have to be more hands on.

“Taste-testing your own poison?” Jade asks.

This is your objective when you see Jade Leech, the next day. This meeting is in the botanical gardens, a bit deeper into the greenhouse and a bit later than usual. In his hand, he rotates the half bitten destroying angel you had presented like a proposal ring out of your dorm pocket. His scrutinizing eyes flick between you and the bite marks.

Sevens … why are you nervous for his approval on this matter?

“How surprising of you. Grown bored of our tiny simulacrum spells, have you?” He sinks a thumbnail into the indented space. Studying intently on where you have bitten and the size you consumed, the grams of amatoxin poison.

“Would you really want to go through what they have on a larger scale? Small bits like these are much less … lethal. It would be unfortunate if you jeopardized your life before the contract collects it.”

“Odd way to say you’re worried about my life.”

“Oh, nothing of the sort.”

Slippery eel. Slippery eel. Slippery eel. Shimmering inside, you quickly grab the paperwork you prepared for tonight. You must be making that pufferfish expression because Jade smiles warmly at you. “See, I calculated it out. I was able to neutralize the amatoxin in the mushrooms with magic. I burnt it all away from my system.”

You quickly slid a paper in front of Jade and continued. “This is the list of poison that I had tested orally before and some I have even built up tolerances to.” His lips move slightly as he reads them. Ignoring your warming neck, you grab the paperwork and start reorganizing your poison bottles. “I can safely consume a variety of these and burn them out of me when they become too lethal.”

“It is also correct of me to assume that you will proceed with this even without my approval.”

“Yes, very correct,” you grin and pull a specific poison between you. Pinching it by the cork, you amorously twirl it on the table in sly circles. Inside, ebon liquid that shines mauve rocks like a bobbing ship. “But, it would be more benevolent of you to help, yes?”

“I suppose,” Jade grumbles.

He is a bit displeased at having been caught by his own contract clause. Not that you need to know that his benevolent interest involves keeping you safe. You excitedly uncork the bottle and shuffle paperwork towards him. No, you definitely do not need to know that.

“Great!”

You stand up from the table and take a few steps back. You put the cork into the pocket of your dorm uniform and raise the bottle to your lips. It is all happening so quickly that Jade’s heart jumps like a frog into his throat. Give an eel a warning!

Before you drink, your eyes widen and you remember something. You reach onto the table and grab a … watch? “Almost forgot. I want you to write down all that happens along with the times. I’ll try to stay talking for as long as possible.”

“You do know that you are drinking a poison meant to kill a dragon.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of what poisons I work with.”

“Perhaps a smaller sip should be taken. We can calculate the volume and density between you and a dragon. It should work the same.”

“No, I’d rather drink it all.”

“Benevolently, I think –”

“Leech,” here you grab his hands and force them to cup together. Oh Sevens, his face feels warm. “Trust in me. I will become Pomefoire’s housewarden. I just have to work past the limits.” You deposit the watch into his gloved hands. “Keep time for me.”

“Okay.” The words of a smitten eel.

“Thank you.” You fall back a few steps and lift the poison back up. “Time?”

“Nine, forty-eight, zero three. Zero four. Zero five.”

“Good.”

Delicately, like you are sipping a rare tea, you lift the poison’s bottle to rest on your bottom lip. You hold it there, listening to Jade count up. You cannot allow yourself to be the reason you fail. You cannot be your own shortcoming, something else would have to interfere. Doing this, you would be able to calculate the specifics of what the poison targets, the speed, and so much more!

Still, your heart is quickly hammering up in your throat.

Medicine. Take it like it is medicine. You sternly tell yourself. And before the begging fists of your heart can beat any faster, you take it all down in one gulp. Just like medicine.

“Tw-Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.” Jade uncharacteristically stumbles in his counting. He keeps going as your throat bobs with the weight of poison.

The taste is not putrid. You do not shake your head or scrunch your nose at all. Swallowing with a tiny quiver of your bottom lip, your face falls neutral. A thumb wipes your lisp for good measure. “Twenty-one. Twenty-two.” Now, it is all about the waiting.

You two do have to wait long because before Jade can even reach the full sixty seconds, your dominant hand suddenly rises up to your lips in surprise. No way. Before you pinch it down, a cough pounds itself free from you. And it is a horrifically wet, gurgling cough. You move your hand away, staring at the strings of blood connecting lip to hand.

“(Name).”

“Keep counting.”

Okay, what was this targeting first? Scrutinizing over the liquid, you think about your airways. Your tongue was still intact. So this was not completely fast-acting and more gore decorates your hand as you hunch over with another punching cough. Your airways were mostly likely corroding first, but a dragon had such thick airways. What should you do to maximize –

Before you can theorize more, you are on your knees, choking like you ran a marathon. Blood splatters out of your mouth. Sevens, you really should burn it out of you.

You go to grab your magestone — the spell will weigh heavy on it but — you startle when two hands grab your shoulders, unsure of who is trying to get a one up on you. Hand clapped over your quivering mouth, you meet Jade’s narrowed eyes and watch his lips move. That’s right. It’s just Jade. You shuffle one arm out of his tight grip, fist around your magestone. The spell sends the sensation of barb-wire veins running up into steel arteries, but you still manage it.

The room goes black, all electricity absorbed by your pen. As your breath and hearing come back to you, you find Jade’s shoulder in the dark.

“Write down everything I’m about to say,” you say victorious.

┉┉

“WHERE THE FUCK IS IT!”

Vengefully, you grasp the drawer’s knob and fling the wooden box across your room. The momentum causes it to hit the mirror above your desk. Snowflakes of glass sneeze out onto your carpet in a musical burst. The symphony just causes you to grind your teeth harder until your gums are begging for relief.

“Where – Where,” you caterwaul desperately. Snowflakes of agony hurricane in your mouth and reduce your once stable voice to a shredded mimic of itself.

You rip open another drawer. Inside is exactly what you are not looking for. That is predictable because you knew you would never misplace what you are currently without. Still, you desperately search and search, fruitlessly hoping that you did misplace it. Still, you claw through your room because it is better than having to face the music that someone has stolen your research notes and preparations for the summer exam.

“Please,” you beg the last untouched drawer in your room. “Please.”

Slowly, the drawer opens up and in it are no bundles of paper twined with magic nor your nine bottles of poison nor Vil Schoenheit’s vial of poison. Like a puppet cut from its strings, you fold over the drawer and start to hyperventilate. “N-ngh, no … no.”

Distantly, you feel the raindrops. Three consecutive splat splat splat falling over your head, spreading down your curled spine and seeping into you. Overblot. Though your pen is far from your hand, you feel it clearly there. The soulbound between you and your pen burns you. Magic becomes dirtier as emotional pain pushes at your throat like vengeful hands. Rein it in, you scold yourself, hunching and groaning at the pain. You dig your forehead into the wood of your dresser to focus on anything but the watery black liquid that coats you. “Br-Breathe,” you scold yourself.

Slowly, you emerge out of the phantom blot that has infected you. Like caught in a shuddering light, your body moves in odd inhuman jerks. Nails digging into the dresser’s top, you pull yourself up. “Breathe,” you repeat a little firmer this time.

The botanical gardens or Pomefiore’s laboratory. Preferably, the laboratory in Pomefiore’s dorm so you will not collide with any unwanted attention. You surmise that the best course of action is to find a way to calm down. If you can drown this painful burn with something stronger – You will – You will just sign another contract with Ashengrotto to locate who stole from you. Desperately, you plan and plan how you can avoid overblotting. On twitching legs, you exit your dorm of discord and leave your magestone on your desk.

“Breathe.”

The walk to your room and Pomefiore’s private laboratory feels like stepping on hot coals barefoot. Burying yourself into the violet sleeve of your dorm uniform, you try to navigate with limited vision. Your fellow dormmates look upon you like you are a stumbling raccoon drunk off rabies. You keep most of your warm face hidden by the sleeve over your cheek and nose. Sevens, you hope that no one has rented the laboratory for a private study.

Your motions are still unstable and jumbled. The revelation that someone has successfully stolen your work from you is world-tilting. Tripping over your own feet and bumping shoulders with students, you reach a hand to your sternum and push. Your hand tries to combat the rapid pace of your heart.

“No, don't think like that,” you mumble drunkenly but then the thought consumes you.

Jade Leech. Heart lunging into your bone like a claymore, you wince violently at the thought. After giving you Schoenheit’s poison, what is the purpose of taking it back then taking everything else in addition? Would his contract allow him to steal? If his benevolence was tied not towards helping you but helping Ashengrotto, then it might be a loophole. No, he was contractually forced to assist you; plus his character …

“No, Jade, won’t,” you start but stop. You do not know that eel-mer. You are not on a first name basis. Despite that, your heart pounds at the raw leather and rose flesh of your ribcage and muscular system, terribly sad.

Stumbling, you make it shoulder first into the door of Pomefiore’s lab. With a groan, you push open the door and fall in. Momentarily, you close your eyes and breathe in the scent of chemicals. Home on Saturdays and Sundays. Days in the laboratory with mother. Breathing becomes easier and then you open your eyes and it is suddenly unachievable.

“You fucking trait –!”

Your hand races down to your empty pocket, feeling for your magic pen. You stumble twice, once when realizing you left your pen in your dorm and second when the growing mass of a water spell is pointed in your direction.

“Cut it out, (Last Name). Throw your magestone on the ground now.”

“I-I don’t have it on me.”

The absolute devastation laced in your face and voice must be enough because … A wicked laugh billows up out of sharp teeth. Water spell drips off his pen. Your body puffs defensively at the shame you feel. In one hot glare, you watch Si and Am laugh cruelly at you.

“Give me back my stuff, you traitors,” you growl.

“Come, surely, you don’t think your words are going to get us to relinquish this to you.”

“Took way too many unlock spells to get our rewards.”

“Truly such a paranoid individual you are. Seven arcane lock spells.”

“You have always been so troublesome since Orientation.”

“I don’t fucking care,” you scream, hands clenching at your side. “It is locked up because it is mine. It belongs to me.”

“There you go again,” Am sighs. “Always claiming things. Claiming that the Pomefiore dorm is yours. Claiming that this,” the siamese lifts up the vial and a chill stabs you, “is yours when it is actually Schoenheit’s. Do you really have anything that is yours besides your self righteousness?”

You have heard enough and rush towards the twins. It is two against one. Pure magic against an overblotting mage. It is a battle that has already decided its victory, but you march into it nonetheless. Tails whip up in surprise as you close a long gap in seconds. Aiming towards Am, you raise up one fist, vision red with anger. The punch does not land.

Instead, a levitation spell bubbles around the back of your head and you are slammed swiftly into the wood of a lab table. “Fuck!” Your body crumples to the ground as those laughs start up again.

“HAHAHAHA, the future housewarden of Pomefiore everyone. A round of applause for this intelligent, unrelenting mage,” Si sings, summoning an auditory track of cheering and hollering whoops with his magestone.

Am hurdles a more subdued laugh at you. “Truly, did you expect to be the next housewarden? That wasn’t a jest?” The cat smiles larger when you — pushed to the dirty ground on all fours and a slime-trail of red down your nose — glare up at him. “Oh, it wasn’t. How sad.”

Mouth opening, you go defend your future position as housewarden. They knew you deserved that position. They were stealing your information above anyone else. You were the most likely winner for the exam, with or without Jade Leech’s and with or without Schoenheit’s poison. Claws sink into the soft flesh of your cheek. Claws cut off all your bristling anger before you can speak. Si pulls you up between the chest of him and his brother.

Kingscholar slashed open your ankle once but nothing compares to this bloody pain. Physically injured and emotionally embarrassed is a deadly combination. You cry out when Am takes one of his claws and cuts diagonal along your noise.

“Now, tell us, what does the brilliant (Name) have in their plans? How do you rebound,” fangs wink and preen at you in victory. “What’s the revenge for us going to look like?”

“Th-The Dark Mirror,” you spit out from the bear-trap of fingers clenching deeper into your face. One of your hands rises up and clenches back at Si’s wrist. “That’s my work. The Dark Mirror will recognize my magic on it.”

“Come now, don’t be so dense. Even if the Dark Mirror recognizes your work, we always have one ace up our sleeve.”

Schoenheit’s poison is waved in front of your bloody nose like a hypnotizing clock.

“You should know that no underclassman can receive help from their housewarden for the upcoming summer exam. I don’t know how you managed to get blackmail on Schoenheit but well done. You sealed your own fate.”

“Besides, (Name), who will they believe: us, the amiable students who have drawn no attention to themselves, or the student who has always had one foot in expulsion and one in attendance after disrespecting Dire Crowley? Crowley would die to have a reason to kick you out.”

“No more troublesome little mage in NRC.”

“No more housewarden (Last Name).”

All your thoughts and anger caught in your throat, all you do is puff. You want to warn them to watch what they drink, be careful what might slip into their food, but you know that the threat of Dire Crowley’s involvement is all too real. You cannot poison them if they leave something behind for Crowley to find. Think. Think. Think.

Sharp cobalt eyes meeting, they seem to conclude they are done with you. With a simple wave of a magestone, your body is propelled through the door and into the adjacent wall in a single blinking second.

“Ack,” your throat cries as you crumple to the floor.

“Tah-dah!”

An explosion of confetti explodes over your head and the coupling laughter of Si and Am cuts off when the laboratory door closes shut. Under the shower of pinks and yellows and whites, you sit, bleeding heavily from your nose. Trembling once more, you jerk yourself into a ball and put the sleeve on your uniform firmly to your mouth.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Breathe. Breathe. BreatheBreatheBreatheBreathe –

You have been using your magic pen, less and less.

It is only natural, you scold yourself. A safety precaution that you need to take. Instead of openly volunteering to demonstrate spells for professors, you let another student take up the helm. But it causes an itch to glove itself over your arm, observing and not participating in potionology.

Perhaps people think you have gained modesty. Perhaps people are thinking you are growing lazy. You would bare your teeth at all of them. They don’t understand. Holding your magic pen is like holding your hand on a bomb always. It is like holding a grenade with the thoughtlessness of holding a rubber eraser. A simple levitation spell to grab potions off Crewel’s top shelf could blow off and unravel the bones and blood of your hand.

Eventually, you are going to get caught. Too many times using a ladder instead of a levitation spell, too many times struggling with tightly sealed caps instead of using an elementary ‘unscrew’ spell. With a vice-housewarden like Hunt, you know when eyes are peering at you. You just wished that it was anyone else.

“Twenty-seven,” you grumble. It really is not meant to be heard and is for your own pitiful attempt at finding some entertainment in this entire shitty storm. Still, it is hard to keep things hidden from Jade Leech – spoken or unspoken, it comes to light.

“Twenty-seven,” Jade muses from behind you. His hand is posed to his chin in that calculating manner. “If I counted correctly, I only looked at you seven times during our Defense Magic class and then five times in our Flying class. That makes twelve.”

Sometimes, you wish that you did carry the physical traits of a pufferfish so you could stab and stab at the annoyance that is Jade Leech. Pufferfish regrettably were not poisonous for eels to consume. So slicing yourself up for him to eat would be useless. Sighing, you slow your steps so you and him fall into walking next to each other.

“Only twelve? I swear I thought you were going to burn a hole in my head. Are you going to add to that number when we reach potionology?”

“Perhaps then I can actually reach twenty-seven. I will work diligently to get there.”

You crush the laugh that wants to come out and stay silent, upset at everything, him and beyond.

“Pufferfish, you have missed our last two scheduled meetings. Monday and Wednesday at eight PM. I’ll have you know that I loathe having my time wasted.”

“Sorry.”

“Does that mean I can expect your presence in the botanical gardens tomorrow?”

“No. No, don't wait for me there.”

Jade gives you a curious look, the tiniest hint of concern or maybe that is frustration. His hand momentarily flexes by his side, trying to inch towards you.

“Well, that is no good. Our contract did not outline what would happen if we stopped collaborating. I suppose that the clause would argue that you would have to give me a reason for terminating our agreement.”

“I’m not terminating anything. I’ll go and participate in the exam. If I lose, one of the three of you will decide to keep me. If I win, I will be a housewarden. The contract is still valid … I just do not require anything more from you.”

“Is that so? Nothing at all?”

“No, I got all I needed from our contract.”

“Then perhaps I can offer you a meal at Mostro Lounge since our research is complete. We should celebrate the fruits of labor, and we can discuss what poison you will be using to win.”

Your breath hitches. Jade definitely notices because he sends that curious look at you again; you can finally identify it as genuine concern. You cannot help how open your emotions are. That was the first time he had talked about the upcoming summer exam in a positive way instead of slyly hinting at possible failure. Jade Leech thought you were going to win. Jade Leech thought you could become Pomefiore’s housewarden.

Instead of joy, you want to curl into a ball and cry. Your bottom lip trembles.

“N-No, I don’t want to do that.” And even though you and Jade share the next period together, you quicken up your pace momentarily. “Thank you for all your help, Leech.”

Jade finally commits to the move to grab your dominant wrist. Uncaring of your bandaged and maimed arm, he pulls you so your body spins to face him. His mismatched eyes did not collide with yours. Instead, he is focused strictly on the magic pen you had gripped in your hand, which was once hidden in your pocket.

“(Name), your pen.” You tear yourself from his grip so fast that Jade blinks in surprise.

Tiny droplets start to blossom like cherries on your wrist from where his fingers had dug in. That pain is expected – you are not gonna get out a predator’s grip without a few cuts. Hell, Jade could probably tear your wrist to ribbons without breaking a sweat. Your features crinkle like paper mache, inked and painted with hot shame.

The concern in his eyes churns your stomach into a ugly nest of snakes. Bottom lip trembling, you scrounge your brain to find a way to excuse yourself. Really, what can you say to excuse the prominent black that is blanketing itself over the sleeping purple of your magestone. Your lips still tremble anyways, but you shut down when the predator crowding above you throws cutting words at you. The pain from them is unexpected.

“I shouldn't have to remind one of the highest ranking alumni the inevitable future that comes with having a magic pen that looks like yours. You watched your housewarden’s overblot and kept this hidden. For someone with so much intelligence, you are acting foolish, Pufferfish.”

The nickname, usually light, stabs at you like a claymore into your chest. Pufferfish … a bothersome fish that blows up around danger, one of the stupidest fucking fishes in the sea! Teeth clip against each other in your frustration. Rounding, you press your palms on Jade’s shoulders and push him as hard as you can. Blood from your wrist starts to climb down your fingers and towards your pen’s handle.

Concern is switched with shock. You doubt anyone has had the guts to ever physically injure him, not that your shove did anything but send him a few steps back. Not wanting to let him get in any words, you shout, “Don’t come near me anymore, Leech! Don’t find me in Pomefoire; don’t even look in my direction during class. Our contract is void.”

You turn, shove your magic pen back in your pocket, and go to flee when – “On what grounds?”

Students flow around you but you feel as if the entire world has frozen at his question … at worse, his tone of voice. Refusing to turn around, you push your mouth into your non-dominant sleeve. You bet if you turned around there would not even be any anger on his face, just that sharp, still, statue-like smile that could tear apart anything.

“On the grounds that you just violated our contract. You implied that you wanted me to stop using magic but I need magic to pursue becoming a housewarden. That is acting as a roadblock to me becoming Pomefiore’s housewarden.”

“I suppose that it was outlined if you felt I was an impediment that our relationship would end. Benevolently, I would advise you to stop magic altogether. Very well. I thank you for our time together, Pufferfish.”

You wish you could be as graceful as Jade in the face of another person’s silly anger. Perhaps that is the divide that keeps you from your goal. Perhaps that is why you are only a student as a second year and Jade is a vice-housewarden.

“Whatever,” you mumble and rush to find a bathroom. The grease of blood in your hand is making your pen harder to hold onto. Slipping, slipping, slipping.

You had not even realized that magic grounded until you found yourself starting to slip from it. Solid ground underneath you has suddenly become sand, pulling itself from you like taffy and shifting in grainy waves around your soles. Fuck, you breathlessly realize that you are spilling into panic. The floor is pliant and vanishing from your reality. In a split decision, you take a turn towards the Hall of Mirrors instead of heading towards a bathroom.

Summoning bandages to wrap the wounds Jade has given you is an impossible feat. In your dorm, there are bandages along with thousands of other medicinal herbs and supplies. When you reach it, you hurl yourself into the Pomefiore mirror, gasping for breath as you just emerged from a dive in the Coral Sea.

Mentality is key. If you can occupy your mind with anything else but your overblot, perhaps you can finally push the slab of stone off your chest, the emotional peine forte et dure crushing your ribcage. You slam your open palm to your dorm door and rush inside.

Think of anything else, you beg your mind but you feel as if every single body has fragmented away from each other and placed them far away like out of reach planets. Sevens, think of anything else, you scream and your hip falls into the corner of your dresser. Focusing on the itch just makes it itchier. Focusing on an illness just prolongs the time you are sick.

The floorboards, count them, a satellite translator reaches out and you grab onto that thought.

One.

Two.

Three.

Your throat hugs your vocal cords. Individual bones embracing your breath and trying to smother you out.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

A knock at your door. Flailing at the sudden noise, your hip digs deeper into the dresser. A bitten back scream traps itself in your mouth. Your nails grip down the wood and you pant heavily onto the surface, panic rising back up now that your concentration is broken.

“Um, (Last Name)?”

Sevens, what awful timing –

When bolting through Pomefiore, you must have spilled past Epel Felmier. Fucking shit. He was a first year student that managed to pull a quarter of the strings for you to have that video of Vil’s overblot. He has requested from you a potion to strengthen tree roots and the fruit they produce. Well versed in botany, you agreed readily for that video. You gave him three vials and said to return for a larger dose of what had given him his desired effect. It was likely that he would be approaching you this week.

Just that remaining bit of Octavinelle in you, making deals to boast yourself up. You start seething at the vile thought. You want to entirely stamp Octavinelle out of your mind, incinerate them all into fish kabobs. Just as you try to picture the image to calm yourself, Epel Felmier knocks again.

“It’s been three weeks and all the test trials have gone well. I think I picked out which one I want. Could you open the door?”

Go away. Get the fuck away from me. You manage to force out, “Now’s not a good time, Felmier. Tomorrow okay?” Underneath your nails, strips of wood bury themselves as you drag your fingers down in a clawing lion grip. Wildly, your ring finger twitches with your shot nerves. You spear yourself harder on the desk to ground you.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go –

“Are you overblotting!”

Your heart stops cold in your arteries. Huh. The floorboards start to blur under your bulging eyes. Then the entire room blurs and spins. You open your mouth, to respond to Epel’s acquisition. Syrupy black starts raining from the cumulus cloud of watery blot in your open mouth. Huh. Are you overblotting? No, you do not think so. However, the dots of blot pounding down on your dresser tell a different story.

Maybe this is right. You would have been in Octavinelle if you did not push. You are as egotistical and troublesome as everyone says. You do not deserve to be the housewarden of a dorm that rejected you originally.

Your vision swims and you tilt with it. In a desperate effort, you go to grab the dresser’s edge to avoid falling. Glass breaks and the sound returns you to yourself.

“Are you okay? You sound pained.”

Oh, that is what he shouted. You force out one last time, “Busy now! Tomorrow!”

The pressure of your hyperventilation and hugging ligaments increases. You start to choke on your terror and quickly press your mouth into your sleeve. When the fit subsides, you look down to see your dresser is clean besides the nail marks. Luckily, you can register the sound of Epel Felmier walking away. But where had the sound of glass come from –

“No. No,” you lament sincerely.

This time you allow yourself to fall down. You reach out a hand, draw it back, and then reach out again. The Dark Mirror should have banished you. You are scum. You are not worthy of what you covet. Avoiding glass shards, you grab the tallest destroying angel and bring it to rest on your knees. Tremors rock your body as if you are nude in a snowstorm.

Doubling over, you mourn, “Jade. Jade Jade Jade. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Really, you should not be here. If you are found, it will surely be a mark on your already wobbling enrollment.

Breaking and entering anywhere in Night Raven College could lead to expulsion … but a majority of your time spent in NRC has been spent walking that fine line. Like an ostrich who has committed to burying itself underground, you commit yourself to this path no matter the consequences. One more risky choice is fine. Besides, no one would ever monitor the botanical gardens past midnight.

You sigh over your mortar and pestle. Dropping the tools, you actually do bury yourself. Into the comfort of your injured hands, you push your face deep into their embrace and groan. You hiss when sharp pangs of agony ripple up your back. A giant spider constructed from pain has spread its legs over your upper spine, embracing you. To be honest, everything is painful. As if to spite, your dominant arm has taken to burning and burning with no medicinal help getting it to calm. All this you could weather usually if – if only –

Sevens, are you going to start crying?

The last time you cried, you were eight. Since then, you had bottled up tears like they were a fatal toxicant that would ruin you. No, no, you cannot uncap that bottle until you are a housewarden.

Piercing your nails briefly into your forehead, you groan one last time. You had been working constantly for three days without breaks. Your memory about toxicology was brilliant compared to others but you still knew that even you were missing chunks and scraps of your knowledge. That is why it was written down, your mind whispers. Yes, that is why you had written and laminated note after note. To start again was weakening you bit by bit.

You pick up your tools again. The longer that you wallow, the longer you are not working. You start to stir the bumpy white powder when the front glass door of the botanical garden clicks open.

Jumping up, you grab your pen to – to fucking what? Teleport yourself? You glance down at the tiny, desperate eye of purple that is still breaching the surface of an otherwise prominent oil spill. Your magestone has one last spell in before you overblot. Are you really going to waste it? You glance up in the direction of the door, flora and herbage blocking it entirely from your sight.

You set your pen down. Maybe it was just an old building settling? You wait for something, a voice, footsteps, anything really. And it does come.

“Ya suuure this is where they are? I’m gettin real tired of all this walking.”

Huh? You know that voice.

“It is worth the look. If they are not in their bedroom or Pomefiore’s personal lab, this is the third place I elect to look.”

“And if they aren’t here?”

“Then, we will find a fourth location to look for them.” A loud, miffed groan responds to that.

Jade Leech and Floyd Leech, what are they doing here? You pass a glance to the candle burning on the desk. Perhaps you can snuff it out and hide. You can see the glow of their twin magic pens, using them as flashlights to navigate the botanical garden. Perhaps you really can hide if they are still unaware of you.

You puff up air in your mouth and make a move to blow out the candle. Yet, one last noise pricks your attention, a whimpered please, we’re sorry. Your eyes snap to look at the golden specks peeking through the shrubbery. No way.

Tiredness is curling around your mind, so you barely even feel how your legs begin to stumble towards the freckled light. Your body moves before your mind. You do not realize that your numb fingers have picked up your pen again. No way.

You push past the willowing leaves of plants and nudge poisonous flowers out of your path. Gradually, the shrubbery decreases in density and light stronger than your candle burns your eyes. You stumble and round past the last potted plant in your path. No way.

“Hey, look, it’s Pufferfishy! They were here, Jade!”

Floyd’s jovial tone is met with your anxious silence, gangly body hunched like you will fall over at any moment and face drawn into a Greek tragedy mask.

No way. No way. No way.

“Fufufu, it seems so. No need to seem so aghast, Pufferfish. We come bearing gifts.”

“Merry Christmas, Pufferfishy!!”

The morbid gifts the Leech twins are bestowing to you are Si and Am whose consciousnesses are kept unlidded by a very weak, thin thread. In matching fashion, a monolith of red is raining from their noses. Si looks like he has taken a fall cheek first into a mirror. Am, who seems unable to breath through his nose, has two of his bottom fangs missing. Their entire bodies are soaked wet, hair and ears pressed down by the weight of water. In their ripped clothes, there are random placed indents. Bite marks, you realize with horror. Jeweled blue eyes are feverishly avoiding looking at you.

And since you are unable to speak, Jade takes the opportunity, “found these two cats looking for a midnight swim. Quite unusual of their species. But Octavinelle will always have its doors open for any student.”

“(Name), we-we get it really. And we’re sorry. Please, please, just call off the twins and we’ll,” Si rambles at you.

His words are cut when Floyd — who is holding onto Si by his nightshirt collar — lifts him up and slams his face into the botanical garden’s cobblestone. There is a crunch like a log of uncooked pasta being snapped. Terrified, your hands and pen fly up to your mouth. When Si is lifted back up, his nose bridge is reshaped into a crescent.

“How rude. Quiet, hehehe, Pufferfishy and Jade are tryin to talk.”

At this, Jade and you finally lock eyes. Your terror and his rigid poise melt into each other. For a second, it feels you and Jade are sharing a pulse, trying to push your ideas at each other. Olive brown and yellow, so unnatural yet turning into your normal. You two stare and stare.

“L-Leech.”

“I gave that vial to you. So taking it from you is the same as stealing from me.”

“...”

“That is a great offense to me. My father always said that you keep what is yours close and if anyone breaches your hold, bite back. Things are no different here than they are in the Sea.”

“Please, get them out of here.”

“If I was wronged, I’d lash out with a torrent of unmitigated verbal abuse to break them down mentally, then bind them and drag them beneath water. Which I have done. For you. Because you and I were betrayed.”

“Please, I’m on the verge of overblotting.”

“No. You are going to bite back, even if it means you overblot. Right this.”

Your pulsing eyes finally slide away from Jade’s stare. They shuffle down but only to the tips of Si and Am’s lowered, wet heads before you get scared and move your gaze back into the comfort of Jade’s eyes. If you give them one more look, you are sure to overblot.

It feels like you are standing on a raised building, miles and miles above the ground. The platform is ice. If you infect your eyes with one wrong image or infect your mind with one wrong worry, you will slip.

You have enough common sense to know pleading with Floyd is a waste of breath. Face knit with pain, you beg, “I’ll never ask anything of you again. No contract. No advice. No favors or gifts. Just please leave with them.”

“Your arm.”

Your features’ wrinkles and creases deepen with confusion.

“Your arm is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life. I almost puked looking at your grotesque flesh. Compared to the nightmare that is growing up in the Coral Sea, your arm is more unsightly than anything I’ve ever seen. Looking at it made me sick.”

You shake your head wildly back and forth. “Sevens, Leech, does it look like I fucking care? Get them out of here!”

As anger blooms on your face, Jade mimics that expression. As if to spite you, the eel-mer uses his strength to pick up Am by his collar and toss him into your feet. You ignore his pained groans like someone ignoring a bothersome, untrained dog pawing at their heels. “(Name), help.” A shiver runs up your spine.

“Your arm is your dedication to becoming Pomefiore’s housewarden. Do you think that is a person worthy of becoming housewarden?”

“I can still become Pomefiore’s housewarden! I know more about poison than anyone else in this school.”

“They stole from you. What I had given you as a –”

“I was fine before you came into my life!”

Anger spills off Jade’s face, sobering up.

Your chin is shuddering rapidly. Despite the heaving of your chest, you refuse to cry. You lock your trembling lips together and plead at Jade with damp eyes, officially done talking.

His gloves fingers slowly unfurl from the tightened stones of frustration they once were. He casts a judgmental look at both Si and Am. You never even knew Jade could look so vexed before, as if things were out of his control. His eyes gleam with the hot fire in them.

“Perhaps, you are right. Perhaps,” Jade looks at his brother and kills his train of thought. Mind unclogged from wrath, he turns right back into the mastermind Hunt dubbed him as. “Pufferfish, if you can’t become Pomefiore’s housewarden, then what is left for you?”

Huh?

“Can you really find a reason to keep going on if you don’t win this upcoming summer exam?”

Then, like an explosion, the thought strikes you. A deep breath flares through you. Previous hesitation to avoid seeing Si and Am is gone. Your voice is meek and clogged with mucus. “N-No.”

The thought motivates you to brandish your pen, tremors reducing. You hold it horizontal to the front of your chest, a violet cosmic spell turning and rotating around the gem stone. In what should be clear lilac and gray, black blot congeals like a twisted lava lamp, cracked open and slipping all over you. A nebulous disaster twisting over your ribs and heart.

“No. I can’t.”

When you release the accumulating spell and your vision goes white, you regret nothing about overblotting.

Because you would rather die than not be Pomefiore’s housewarden. And since that future has become impossible through Si and Am’s efforts, you can go all out and die. Right here. Right now.

Death is rather peaceful too, you come to realize. It feels like a warm embrace, sentimentally holding you tight and brushing a hand over your face. And for some reason, it speaks too. From the white: “Hey, you on the other side, give me back my Pufferfish.”

At the nickname, you jolt alive.

Glass and vines are the first thing you see but it is void compared to the blot in your mouth that you have to spit out. Ebony egg yolks glide down your chin. With vengeance, you throw yourself on your shoulder so as to not choke on the substance. Someone has their hand around your dominant arm and you think your spine is resting on their leg. You want to check but — but, more sludge comes up and blankets the cobblestone. Your entire body rattles with the force as you take one shuddering breath and then puke some more.

“Good, clear your throat.”

Listening to this strange voice, you puke for a fourth time. When you have finally stabilized yourself, you fall back into Death’s embrace with a groan. When Death greets you with his two mismatched eyes, you frown.

“J-Jade?”

“Here I save your life and you don’t even seem happy to see me.” His lips mimic your frown with a bit more dramatism.

“Because,” you hack, fake anger on your tongue “, because I’m racking up quite a debt with you. Azul will have me on a leash by third year.”

“Ideally, I will be the one holding the leash.” He says, tenderly swiping a bit of blot off your chin.

“Shut up,” you hiss, not in the mood for his jokes. Tired bones and bruised skin leans deeper into Jade’s embrace. He does not make light of it, at least. You were expecting teasing piled onto teasing. “Si and Am?”

He cups a hand to block your wandering eyes and starts to faintly smile. “Thoroughly disbanded for the time being. As always, you were quite methodical in ensuring your goal. Though, this path is quite atypical for applying as Pomefoire’s housewarden.”

You chuckle at that before a sharp pain in your arm breaks your mirth. Erratically, your middle finger twitches and you wonder if you severed a nerve in your arm. Your studying is interrupted when Jade brings a hand up and down the length of your arm. His next words are not mocking or duplicitous.

“I,” his words pause heavy in his throat. “I did not mean what I said about your arm earlier. I don’t find it —“

“It’s alright,” you interrupt. “I’ll never be ashamed of it, no matter what anyone says.” Hating how Jade looks a bit troubled, you try to revive the previous atmosphere. “Plus, your opinion doesn’t matter to me that much, Leech. Don’t flatter yourself.”

The lie makes the eel-mer regain his usual tone, “yet who asked who for their opinions on poison?”

“I asked to use your intellect, nothing more.”

“So I truly am just a pawn to you. How cruel.”

It seems like you two could go on forever in your banter, which is why Floyd — whose irritable disposition at being thoroughly ignored has been snowballing — decides enough is enough.

“Pufferfishy was so cool when overblotting, right Jaido?” The sudden voice makes you jolt in Jade’s arms until a new train of thought washes over you. Your overblot. “Almost knocked one of my teeth loose, Puffy~ Would’ve squeezed you for that one.”

Your overblot. Your overblot! What did you look like? What had you said? Did you cut an impressive enough visage to match with Schoenheit? You stare at Floyd. Curiosity pushes like spiders trying to crawl out your mouth. “Wh-what did I look like?”

“You looked —“ like an angel.

“Ya had this big halo over your head. All sticky and inky. Your clothes were all drapey and purple. Patterns all up your arms.” Enraptured and delighted, you listen as Floyd plots out each part of your overblot to you, using his own body as an indicator. “And this totally radioactive spike as your pen!” You feel like you are on cloud nine.

“Was it? Was it more impressive than you know who?”

“I say you have both Azul and Vil beat for most imposing overblot.”

“Ya, Azul was all cryin’ and whiny. You were all, agh I’ll burn out your insides! You filth!” Floyd breaks off into giggles. “Pufferfishy has always been interesting since Orientation. Course your overblot is gonna be super cool.”

You preen at their words. Yet, in the aftermath of the praise, you start to come down from that buzzing high. “Wait. Wait, I can’t have this get out.” It could potentially disqualify you from running in the exams for housewarden.

“Don’t worry, I will have Azul write up an NDA tomorrow to be signed by all of us, Si and Am included. Besides a few damages that can be magiced away, you are in clear for continuing to work towards your goal.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. It is troublesome to sign any confidentiality agreement with Ashengrotto but this has slowly become your new normal. In your first year, you would have combatively against this relationship you have built with the Octavinelle dorm. Hesitantly, you go to leave Jade’s arms when —

“Jade, holy Seven! Your forehead.” You do not know how your eyes slide over it before. In an arch over Jade’s right eyebrow is a deep laceration. It is impressive in depth because a constant river of red is curling down his face in the same way the black strand on the right of his face does.

“It’s only a scratch. As Floyd said, you were quite vengeful.”

“That’s not a scratch. I know wounds; that’s going to need stitches.”

“Oh my, will it really? How do you plan to make it up to me? Such a deep wound; I will surely need a nurse to take care of me.”

“Ugh, be serious.” You start pressing your sleeve to stop the flow.

“But I am being serious, Pufferfish. To be honest, I feel my vision in my right eye is subpar now.”

“It’ll be subpar when I stick my finger in it, Leech.”

“Back to using my surname, are we? How tragic. I’ll surely miss that stutter you had calling out my first name.”

“Leech, Leech, Leech.”

In the background, Floyd Leech rolls his own uninjured eyes, annoyed at how your banter has started up again. Sevens, get a room, he thinks.

Rationally, you know that you no longer have even a drop of blot left sitting inside either yourself or your magestone but —

“How do I look? Do you think they score on outfits too? What am I saying; this is professor Crewel, that probably is an unspoken criteria that I was supposed to meet … This buttoned up has a bleach stain on sleeve, fuck. Leech, swap shirts with me.”

But you feel like you are choking on that syrupy black substance once again.

Jade chuckles at your evident panic. Always an open book aren’t you? He tightly grips your wrists when you leap at him to unbutton his shirt and smiles, enjoying your distress. “I’m terribly afraid it’s not the right color of lilac to represent Pomefiore. Plus, I’m much bigger than you.”

“I can just tuck the extra into my slacks,” you bargain. Your hands rattle fruitlessly in his cuffing grip. Now that he says that … you start to worry if the wrong shade of violet could make Crewel sicker than a bleach stain. You feel like you are choking down on a chunky milkshake of blot.

“Ugh.” Uncaring of his reaction, you start to fall into Jade Leech. Forehead connecting to sternum, you stay there as he holds your wrists halfway above your head. Since he held you after your overblot, physical contact between you two was oddly becoming normal. And this entire thing does feel like a second overblot. “I feel worse than ever.”

“Now, I’m quite positive that you have felt worse.”

“Nope, this is the worst.”

“In only a couple minutes, you will go out there and choke. Just imagine it.”

“Die, Leech.” You stomp on his Oxfords. You won’t injure him but you still hope to dirty his expensive footwear.

For the exam, they have a system of how people walk in. First, every Pomefiore student participating will stand outside. Then one by one, they are moved into a small room behind the auditorium, waiting until their name is called, and move onto the stage. Sometimes, Pomefiore students brought along support. After the betrayal from Si and Am, the role unfortunately fell to Jade Leech. It is just you and him in the room; same as it has always been under contract.

You squirm so you can rest your cheek into his chest, still locked by his grip on your wrists. “I’m gonna be so sick right now.”

An overblot was the catalyst of all negative emotions. You misjudged that it would dry you out of all insecurities. The grip of the Evil Queen holding you by the ribs until all the black liquid sponges out from black rivulets in your pores. Turns out you still have a bottomless cocktail of worry and stress left.

Jade was on the other end of the spectrum. He was quite assured that you would be winning. It had been a foreseeable outcome before you even asked to make the contract. When Azul and him schemed about their upcoming third year, you were substituted into the role of Pomefiore’s housewarden as naturally as Silver was substituted into the role of Diasomnia’s housewarden. All hypothetical yet assured. All calculated by some of the sharpest minds in Night Raven College to come to fruition.

Jade looks down at you, face on his shirt. How cute, your face even has that puffing expression when you worry yourself to the verge of puking. He smiles at you. It is unseen and genuine, far from odious.

“You have always been so interesting, (Name).”

Flee, your mind screams at you. You make a move to stumble backwards but you have forgotten that you are still in a bind, Jade’s slippery hands around your wrists. That odious, scheming grin returns to mask over his affection.

Jade leans in close, suffocating you, dangerous teeth gleaming. So close that the scent of mint toothpaste spills into your nose. Gleefully, he holds your locked arms out like he is pulling the wings of a butterfly to pin to a board.

“No, interesting is an understatement. You are magnetizing like a flame. Like watching someone burn alive.

“On Orientation, it was certainly amusing to be around humans. A new experience for me, Floyd, and Azul as mermen. But it grew old. Got repetitive, hearing your soul is Savanaclaw, your soul is Ignihyde, your soul is Octavinelle. You.” His eyes shine like a lightning flash, yellow painting his eyelashes. “You were like an explosion of fire, so much more powerful than any brief glimmer of light. I haven’t been able to look away since then.” And then, he lets you go.

With the force of yourself and what you suspect is also Jade pushing you away, you fumble awkwardly in the air for a bit. What stops you from cracking your head open is the single table in the room. Tailbone colliding, you desperately grip the surface behind you for stability. Ouch!

You look down at your hand. A bead of blood blooms on your index finger like a poisonous mistletoe berry. Damn, is the glass of your project at least still intact? Fretful, you go to examine the table when Jade pulls you back in by the wrist.

(It is odd. Since collaborating with the eel-mer, peace has been as rare and brief as a shooting star due to it. He has stressed you beyond belief. He has left you grappling for the true intentions of his words. Where Si and Am tricked you, it is odd that the one who openly speaks of your failures and challenges you has been more genuine to you than anyone else.)

Truthfully, you want to glare at him but you just stare. Those nocuous words leave you with a tingling sensation through your veins. Something warm and intoxicating, to be regarded as an image worth viewing. You watch as Jade lifts your bloodied, pricked finger to his lips. Pushes his tongue out and laps up the berry dot.

Oh.

“Leech?”

Divus Crewel calls your name.

You glare, metaphorical spikes flaring around your skin. Leave it to Jade Leech to calculate the perfect moment to confess yet not confess at all. Leave it to him to say words that you have to filter through a sieve to reveal the meaning. What a sly bastard, you muses.

“What are you standing around here for? Everything you’ve worked for is waiting for you.”

Funny of him to say that when he is still gripping your wrist.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“In the botanical gardens? Or perhaps Pomefiore’s laboratory? Will you finally concede and enter Monstro Longue?”

“Don’t push it. I’d never pay for those overpriced drinks.”

“Who said I’d let you pay?” He finally gives you back your hand.

“Hmph.”

You rotate quickly on your heel. From the table, you grab your project. Thank the Seven that is still intact despite the pressure your hand had placed on it before. The glass pufferfish cradled in your hand shines. Inside the jade green glass, the lethal poison sits waiting. From the pursed lips of the fish, you will take the poison and serve it to a dragon. Your heart pounds excitedly in your chest. There is one last loose end though – Turning to Jade, you question, “If I lose, did you three decide who would have me?” You have been dying to hear this.

“Yes, we all picked from the three things you outlined in the contract.”

“You’re splitting them up?”

“Yes. Azul will take your magic. Floyd is arranged to ransack your room, taking all your possessions. And I, I will be the receiver of your life and freedom.”

A snake manifests in your stomach, lashing at that sentence. You gulp, flustered at the venom in his tone. “How sad you will never have that,” you tease.

“I suppose that you should go out there and win.”

“I suppose I just might.”

You two share something warm in your mimicking smiles. And before Divus Crewel can call your name again, you rush out to the auditorium.

Glancing up from your cosmetic mirror, you watch Floyd sleep.

You never thought you would see a body look like that, limbs angular and disfigured. Bones rotated as if they had suffered a fall from a great height. Your knowledge on eel anatomy was limited. Perhaps, it was eel-mer flexibility that got him to comfortably sleep with his hand twisted around his back and touching his ankle?

“Do you sleep like that too or are acrobatics just Floyd’s specialities?”

The other eel-mer perks up at your voice. Another thing you learned about eels was their habit to bite. Jade stops sinking his teeth into your hip to answer, “A mixture of both. Though, I can assure that I am not as unruly to sleep next to, if you ever are hoping to find out.”

You take the pointed end of your makeup brush and dig it into his temple. As he whines of all dreadful things about your cruelty, you continue applying your blush. Whining from him would have unnerved you months ago.

To be honest, a lot of things you have been adapting to about Jade Leech were once very surprising. The whining, the biting, the clinging. You wished Floyd’s future significant other the best because the clinging (whether skin to skin or being shadowed constantly) was horrendous with Jade. Red powder brightens your cheeks. You were even surprised that the meticulously punctual Jade hated getting out of bed.

“You know, you’re going to be late to Orientation if you keep nuzzling into me all morning. Floyd is acceptable. You are the vice-housewarden of Octavinelle. You cannot neglect your first years.”

“And you are the housewarden of Pomefiore, but who’s lingering in who’s dorm now, hm?”

Your body hums lightly at the pleasant reminder. You almost want to beg him to say it again and again till his tongue falls out. Instead, you purposely make a lot of noise with your makeup tools as you drop the blush on the nightstand and grab your lipsticks. “See, but I’m up and preparing for the day. And you are not.”

Jade makes no response and goes back to gnawing on the slip of skin revealed between underwear and tank-top.

You roll your eyes as you start to outline your lip shape in a deep brown. You do admit that you will miss him when he eventually decides to get up for the morning. The position you have is nice: you, sitting on the edge of his bed, applying makeup, as he wraps his arms around your waist, body still tucked under the sheets.

“You truly are one bothersome eel, Jade.”

You apply the last bit of clear lipstick from a jeweled black tube. Rotating one nude thigh on the bed, you maneuver Jade so his head is in your lap.

“Spending all morning in bed, hiding Dire Crowley’s letter to the housewardens so Azul has to rush his own preparations, texting me this morning, oh (Name) please there’s an emergency at our dorm, please come. Didn’t know I was dating such a villain.”

“You knew,” Jade smiles up at you.

“… Yeah, I knew.” You lean down to give him a kiss which quickly escalates into more. Who can blame the two of you though, after a long separation on summer break?

Eel blood is poisonous. It is a biological fact that molds him to an image of worship in your hands. It reminds you of all you two struggled through – the first person you had opened up to and let him inject you with a thing as deadly as love. You gently cup his face, a stroking thumb on his cheek, and kiss each other like it will be your last kiss. All kisses with him were like that, infinitely finite.

Blood floods into the kiss. He does not even wilt when you bite down hard on his tongue. You feel a droplet break from the limited space between you and wipe it away with your thumb. He takes his own thumb, nuzzling it over the skin of your neck. You poison him; he poisons you.

You pull away, pupils blown, with a new lip tint.

“He-Here,” you say. Most of your purple lipstick has rubbed off onto Jade’s smug face. The red-violet mix is an intoxicating look on him. When he smiles with his full teeth, your stomach stirs at the blood pooling between enamels.

Breathlessly, you hand him a jeweled white lipstick tube. He pecks two quick kisses on your lips, looking like the cat who got the cream. “The top layer of my lipstick is poisonous. Apply this before your lips start feeling numb or you’ll lose the ability to talk for two days.” Your words do not even reduce the joy he feels having you in his arms.

“Oh dear, it sounds like you want that to happen to poor me.”

“I’m handing you the antidote, aren’t I?”

“Pomefiore’s housewarden is so cruel~” His faux look of sadness in slanted eyebrows and pouted lips is almost painfully predictable now. Still, he goes to take it and — oh, this is a bit unpredictable of him.

Uncapping the lip balm, he runs it over the top and bottom of your lip. Awestruck, you watch his calculating face. He caps it again and wastes no time pulling you into more sloppy kisses.

“Jade,” you pant. He hums underneath you, loving how his wandering claws are ruining your once tame hair, loving how you say his first name. “You definitely got enough of the antidote.”

He starts whining again! You laugh as you move your thigh off the bed and return to going over your makeup.

Shortly after, Jade falls into a silence. You start checking out each minuscule detail on your makeup. Symmetry no matter how you angle your face is key, Vil once said. Vanity is not a main concern of yours but your first appearance as housewarden is vital. The housewarden whose poison killed a dragon in six days. When they eventually put you in the textbooks, it would be best not to look sloppy. Perhaps, you can even convince them to do an article on your arm. Jade had been trying to convince you to publicize it more. Though the bandages were on today, who's to say they have to be on tomorrow. Hell you can —

“About your overblot…”

Your train of thought hops off the track and is engulfed in one giant flame.

You hate the way your body betrays you. Posture leaps up into a straight line. Jade definitely feels the way your spine becomes tense at his words. You know he can feel it as his forehead is pressed to the center of your back now.

After everything, you two had swept in under the rug. Decreeing it as a non-disclosable talking point. You wonder why he is breaching contract today of all days. Did the sadist want you overblot again on Orientation, thinking about the past?

You stay silent, hoping he will drop it.

“You shouted … shouted that you would be nothing if you weren’t Pomefiore’s housewarden. I just wanted to let you know before it all starts, that you’re everything to me. Housewarden or not.”

Your body is treasonous. It should be exiled and thrown out of the kingdom of your mind. You wish you could strip yourself of it because it is betraying you again. And you know Jade can feel the traitorous actions of your body, as your spine curls and your shoulders start to shake hysterically with your cries.

Hiding your emotions has never been a strong trait of yours.

As each muscle convulses and shakes, Jade elects to press a few more kisses on the ridges of your vertebrates.

“… Fuck you,” you gasp out wetly. “Now, I have to redo this stupid makeup.” Violet glitter leaks from your eyes.

Knowing what you truly mean, Jade smiles and presses a long-lasting, poisonous kiss on your sobbing skin.

[tezret]

Filed Into 2am Thoughts

Crewel: Alright and… [Name] you will be on a team with jade & Floyd leech.

You/Reader: Yes! My fantasy threesome!

Jade & Floyd, smirking at you from across the classroom:

Y/N: *coughs*...Of uh… people on a team-. Yeah…

[myunghology]

twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.

pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).

tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?

a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!

☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS

nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)

but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.

oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.

other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.

doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..

well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.

—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!

plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)

cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.

he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.

sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.

riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.

☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi

him? in love? absolutely.

if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.

he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.

let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.

he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.

okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.

what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.

ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.

also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.

maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.

spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.

☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO

azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.

he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.

it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.

"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd

you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.

floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.

but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.

wait till you tell him that you find him cute..

he explodes

no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.

☆ — JADE LEECH

so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.

always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.

tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.

in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.

similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.

you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.

it's probably best not to ask him though.

he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-

genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.

trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..

☆ — FLOYD LEECH

my condolences if he ever likes you.

just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.

doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.

you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.

plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.

has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.

easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.

also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".

ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.

drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..

☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM

probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..

spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!

you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.

not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.

very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..

hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.

shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.

bro's lovesick

gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..

introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:

"are we not engaged" "NO??"

he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already

he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..

☆ — JAMiL ViPER

like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.

maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.

VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,

"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"

you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.

like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.

jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.

studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.

☆ — SiLVER

im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.

but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.

he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.

you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..

genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)

and that's why lilias opinions are always important..

generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.

but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??

lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?

after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.

©myunghology