brownblob

Latest Posts by brownblob

AGHAGHFFFJK AHHHHH OMGGGG WOWOWOWOW

sypnosis. a queen waits for the return of the man who promised he would always come back. her lover, who disappeared years ago chasing an adventure only he could see. the court demands a king, and suitors press in, but she remains unmoved, weaving a shroud of time until he returns. then, a challenge: whoever can string her betrothed’s bow and fire an arrow through twelve battle-axes will claim the throne. the suitors fail, but the beggar steps forward, rook, disguised. the bow bends, the arrow flies true, and rook stands before her, alive, and home at last.

note. i was listening to “the challenge” and thought of rook, stupidly enough cause of the bow & i immediately thought of “rook would love this” but you get it ^^’’ !!! immediate apologies if it may seem ooc, or off grammar (unfortunately, english isn’t my first language)

𝕿He. . . loom stretches before you, a seemingly endless web of threads that twine and twist in complex patterns. It feels like an impossible task, one you can never quite complete. Each morning, your fingers move with purpose, the rhythmic motion of weaving pulling you deeper into the task, a desperate distraction from the ache in your chest. Each night, when the rest of the castle has drifted into slumber, you return to the loom to unravel the threads, as if in some way, that will erase the time that’s passed — the time that you’ve been forced to endure without him. They do not know. The suitors who fill your court like hungry wolves — bright smiles and velvet robes hiding the sharp edges of ambition — believe you are near the end, that soon, you will choose a new king.

But you are still his.

He left you years ago, chasing a challenge that only he could see. The great hunter, the man who had seen beauty in every fleeting moment, had sworn to return. His final words still echo in your memory: “Mon amour,” he had whispered, breath warm against your temple, hands pressing over yours. “I leave not for adventure, but for the promise of coming home to you. What is love, if not the patience to wait?”

But patience is cruel, and faith wears thin when it is constantly tested by the long silence between you. The world does not stop spinning while you wait for a man who might never return. You have held your breath for years, hoping against hope that the promise he left you would hold true, but as the days turn into months, and the months into years, you begin to wonder if perhaps the sea has swallowed him whole.

The kingdom stirs. The whispers grow louder each day. It has been too long. He is gone. A queen cannot rule alone forever, they say. And so they press closer, thousands of men draped in velvet and gold, smiles dripping with false sweetness, eyes gleaming with greed. They speak of duty, of stability. They speak of the future.

But what of the past?

The love you held for Rook is not something fragile that can be traded away. It is not a thing to be bartered like the throne you sit upon. And yet, the court grows impatient, the vultures circling, waiting for their moment to swoop in.

“Your Majesty,” one of them says, his voice smooth as silk, his hand lingering too long on the armrest of your throne. “The throne needs a king.“

“A nation without a ruler is weak,” another murmurs, his eyes glinting with something more dangerous than mere concern. “Choose, and we will grant you peace.”

Peace? How.. humourous. As if the love you hold for Rook could ever be bought, as if it were something to be sacrificed to ease their hunger. As if you are not the woman who has held the kingdom together, the queen who ruled with strength and wisdom while he was lost to the world. But they do not understand. They never have.

Still, they will not stop.

So, you buy yourself time. But, is it for yourself?

“I will choose,” you say, your voice steady, betraying none of the chaos inside. “As soon as I finish weaving this shroud.”

They believe you. And so, the cycle continues.

Day after day, you sit at the loom, hands moving with mechanical precision, the rhythm of the work a small comfort in a world that no longer makes sense. You tell yourself that you will be free once it is finished, that once you have completed the task, you can let go. But every night, you return to unravel the work of the day, pulling the threads free, watching the promise of completion slip away like sand through your fingers.

And unexpectedly, the storm will come by.

Huh, the weather today.. seems peculiar. I wonder.

You thought, the sky today looks unlike anything you have ever seen, dark clouds gathering on the horizon, the sea thrashing wildly as though it too were in mourning. The wind howls, rattling the castle walls, and in the darkness of that night, something shifts in the air, a whisper, a possibility. Could it be—?

No.

But still, there is a flicker of something. Was it hope? Something that makes your pulse quicken, something that stirs in your chest and makes your breath catch in your throat.

You do not sleep that night. The next morning, the court is restless, but you do not care. Another suitor has arrived. You barely glance up at first, prepared for the same hollow flattery, the same empty promises they have all offered. Another face, another man desperate for the throne. And then—

“Your Majesty.”

The voice is low, rich, unmistakably familiar.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

You lift your gaze, and the breath leaves your lungs.

There, standing before you in the grand hall, disguised as nothing more than a beggar? A tattered cloak hanging from his shoulders, boots caked in dust, golden hair hidden beneath a hood, is him.

Rook.

“Mon amour,” he breathes, and it is neither a plea nor a question. It is a vow renewed, a promise fulfilled.

The court does not understand why your fingers clutch the armrests of your throne, why your breath trembles in your throat. They do not understand the weight of this moment, the storm that has raged inside you for years, breaking now into sunlight.

But they will.

“A challenge,” you announce, your voice ringing out through the hall, silencing the murmur of voices. “The one who can string my betrothed’s bow and fire an arrow through twelve battle-axes shall take the throne beside me.”

The suitors laugh. They know the stories of Rook’s war bow — the weapon only he had ever been able to wield.

The bow itself, was a testament to strength, a mark of kingship, a relic of a past only one man could claim. Crafted long before his reign, it was a thing of unyielding power, curved in a perfect arc. Only he can wield.

One by one, they step forward, pride on their faces, convinced that they, too, can master the impossible. One by one, they fail. The bow does not bend to their hands. The string does not yield. Each failure cracks their pride, their frustration mounting as they realize that they are not Rook.

And then, the beggar steps forward. The court erupts into laughter.

“Surely, Your Majesty, you do not mean to let this vagrant attempt—”

But you do not stop him. You do not move, barely even breathe as he steps forward, his hands brushing against the polished wood of the bow, a deep, knowing silence settling over the room.

With a swift movement, the bow bends. The string sings its familiar song as he draws it taut, the echo of it resonating through your very bones. You can feel the air shift, the energy in the room snapping like a taut wire.

The arrow flies.

The sound of it is pure. Sharp and true, slicing through the air with deadly precision. It whistles cleanly through each of the twelve axes, the force of it a declaration. A promise.

Silence.

And then, he lifts his head. The hood falls away.

Rook stands before you, golden-haired and smiling, as if no time at all had passed. As if he had never left.

You take a step forward, your breath catching in your throat, but you do not move too quickly, afraid that he might vanish as suddenly as he appeared.

“You’re late,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but it carries through the silence like a blade.

Rook’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with the same wild fire you remember. “Ah, mon amour,” he breathes. “But I am here.”

And then, he kneels before you.

The years between you crash down like a tidal wave, the weight of everything you’ve endured settling heavily upon your chest. You do not hesitate. You move toward him, your hands trembling as they find his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes closing for a moment, as if memorizing the feel of you, the texture of your skin beneath his fingers.

“I should kill you for making me wait,” you whisper, your voice breaking with the ache of all that has been lost and found again.

“And yet,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your wrist, “you have never looked more beautiful than you do now, in your fury.”

You let out a breath, half a sob, half a laugh. But it is enough. It is everything. You pull him to you, your lips crashing against his, desperate and alive, the years of longing melting into this single, fleeting moment.

The court watches, but you do not care. The suitors recoil, but you do not see them. There is only Rook. his hands in your hair, his arms around you, the warmth of him solid and real after all these years. When you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours, and the world is suddenly right again.

“You came back,” you whisper, a question, a plea, a confession.

“Always,” he swears, his voice rough and raw. “I will always find my way back to you.” This time, you believe him.

That night, the castle breathes with a new kind of silence. The suitors have left, some in anger, others in shame, their ambitions shattered like glass beneath the weight of inevitability. The whispers of the court fade into the distant hum of the sea, and for the first time in years, you are alone.

But you are not lonely.

Rook stands before you in your chambers, no longer the beggar who had slipped unnoticed through the doors, but the hunter who had once stolen your heart with laughter and reckless devotion. He is older now —sharper in some places, softened in others — but when he smiles, it is the same as it ever was. Wild and knowing, like he has already mapped out every thought in your head before you can voice it.

And yet, for the first time since his return, he hesitates.

“You are staring, mon amour.” His voice is lighter now, teasing, but underneath it, there is something else. Something unspoken.

You cross your arms, tilting your head. “You disappeared for years, Rook. Forgive me if I wish to confirm that you are not merely a ghost come to haunt me.”

His lips twitch. “And if I were?”

“Then I would curse you for eternity,” you say, stepping closer, until only a breath separates you. “And still, I would not let you leave.”

The teasing falters in his expression, giving way to something raw, something that makes your pulse thunder in your ears. His hands, calloused and sure, come up to cradle your face, his thumb ghosting over the curve of your cheek. “I was gone too long,” he admits, a confession, a wound.

“Yes.”

“I have no excuse.”

“No.”

His fingers tighten, the breath in his chest shuddering. “And yet—” He swallows, eyes burning gold in the candlelight. “Would you still have me, knowing that I am a man who loses himself in the hunt?”

Your breath catches. Not because you do not know the answer, but because he would even dare to ask.

You take his hand, pressing his palm flat against your chest, where your heart beats strong and steady. “You left,” you say. “And I waited. And I cursed you. And I wept for you. And still—” You inhale, exhale, let the weight of the years settle between you before crushing them beneath your next words. “Still, my heart knows only your name.”

Rook lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, but it is too broken, too relieved to be anything but the unraveling of something long-held. “Then it seems,” he murmurs, leaning in, his forehead pressing against yours, “I have found my way home after all.”

He kisses you, it is not with the desperation of before. It is steady, certain. It is the promise he made you all those years ago, at last fulfilled.

© 2025 padf-0-ot . i only post in this app ^ᴗ^

AMAZING DRAWING AND CONTENT AS USUAL

Lil doodle of Artyom I drew in class (wanted to draw Nikita but I was too lazy)

OMG CHECK THIS AUTHOR OUT ASAP !!!

𝘚𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘬

Chapter 1 snippet

December 2, Monday morning. The warmth of your bed clings around your body, practically inviting you to rest for another hour, debating whether or not you should accept this proposal, the harsh realisation of reality barely awakens you. Hardly conscious, you bring your attention to the bright window of your bedroom, a pleasant surprise guides your view to the blanket of white powder enveloping your backyard, brightening up the depressing usual mornings of winter. Concentrating on the comforting feeling of safety in your bed, checking your phone sends you back to reality, you’ve woken up 30 minutes late.

‘Fuck.’ you mutter, you’re finally fully awake. You quickly fling aside your baggy band shirt and chaotically get dressed in uniform. Sprinting downstairs, nearly tripping, you snatch your books, shoving them inside your bag. As you mentally prepare yourself for the school day, you quickly grasp a snack and catch hold of your jacket.

Puffs of your breath leaving you in uneven clouds and the cold biting at your skin as you ran outside. Reaching the empty bus stop, your heart drops at the realisation that the bus had left without you.

‘Just kill me at this point.’ You murmured under your breath, words tumbling out before you realise.

‘Would you like me to?’

The voice came from nowhere, it was deep, and said without intention. His voice was the kind that could melt winter’s bitter coldness, designed to be unnerving. He whispered it with an idle confidence, you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or having fun at your expense.

His words hanged in the air like icicles hanging from the roof. Stopping mid in your tracks, your sharply turn your gaze towards him walking towards you. His long chestnut like hair was flowing in the frigid breeze, eyes gleaming, a dark forest green, sharpened. They were unreadable, his intentions unclear.

His warm yet teasing voice started again, ‘You seemed so earnest about the idea? I thought I’d offer what you wanted.’

Your heart pulsed faster and faster by the moment, unsure how to response.

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth faintly curving, ‘What's the matter? –Cat got your tongue?’ letting out a faint chuckle as he approached you.

Author's note:

If you're still here, thank you for reading! This is a short snippet of a fic that I'm writing about a character that I've made. What led me to writing this was my friend deciding to make a little scenario for me with my type after I had just rambled to her about wanting a bf exactly like the character that I'm writing about, after she had made the scenario for me, I went onto Wattpad to check out if there had been any stories similar to what my friend made and to no avail, I didn't find anything. I decided to take matters into my own hands and write the fic myself, since I couldn't find anything. Anyway, if your type is long haired metalheads, then this is for you!! (Also the friend who helped make the scenario is @brownblob credits to her for helping me)

Chapter 1 !!!

Be Careful Not to Mess With the Balance of Things

Max Russo x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1: Strange News

___*___

"Everything is not what it seems"

The usual Saturday chaos buzzed through the Russo household. Syrupy pancakes, scattered newspapers, and the occasional magical mishap. Justin was awake hours before anyone else, buried in the daily newspaper- it was the responsible thing to do as the student body president and all that whatnot. Max was surprisingly up for once, only at the sound of pancakes though. That explained how he was stuffing his face without a care in the world, sitting cross legged on the couch as he guzzled down extra syrup. Alex was late as usual, her morning bedhead explanatory of the horrid sleep she'd experienced.

"Morning" Alex mumbled, snatching a pancake off Max's plate as she shuffled into the kitchen.

"Ugh, c'mon. Get your own." Max protested between chewing, sighing as Alex walked off.

"Should've eaten it faster." Alex shot back with a smirk, biting into the soft pancake with glee.

Everything was normal- until it wasn't.

With a loud whoosh Professor Crumbs appeared in the living room, his grand robes defining his authority and honor as they pooled on the wooden floorboard. He had a cup of tea in his hands as if he'd been mid-sip when he decided to teleport.

"Who wants more pancakes?" Said an awfully excited Theresa as she entered the living room. Seeing the professor and the possibility of magic being involved, her expression quickly soured. "You know what? I'm out." She said before placing the pancakes on the coffee table and waltzing out- if she wasn't part of it then it wouldn't affect her, at least that's what she hoped for.

"Professor Crumbs?" Jerry stood from the table, eyeing the man interrogatively as if to be sure this was the real deal. "To what do we owe the honor?"

Crumbs waved a dismissive hand, basking in the respect Jerry showed him. "Oh, just a minor magical emergency. Nothing too grave...yet."

Justin stood up, brushing the nonexistent dust off his sleeves. "Everyone else, sit down. I know what this is. The professor is here to take me on an escapade-"

"No Justin, I am not taking you on an escapade." Crumbs cut him off, an irritated cough following suit though his tone remained polite. "There has been an unexplainable incident...a mortal girl has been given a nymph's powers."

The room fell eerily silent, tension building within all those who were present. Other than for Max and Alex, both of whom were silent because of confusion.

"A mortal? How is that possible?" Jerry broke the silence, digging deeper into the matter.

"We aren't fully sure," The professor admitted, setting his empty teacup onto the coffee table. "The late nymph's soul- her essence - somehow bonded with the mortal, gifting the girl with magical powers. The girl is completely unaware of what power she now carries, since they haven't fully manifested within her. If left unchecked her powers could go berserk, posing a threat to her own life and even the secrecy of the Wizard World."

Alex leaned against the counter, cocking her brow. "So you want us to track her down? Sounds like more of a Justin kinda thing.." She muttered, looking at her older brother who was already taking notes on his planner.

This gained an exasperated sigh from Justin as he glared at his sister. "Alex, this is not a thing. It's a mission we've been trusted with."

"Well, not only you- all the wizards in New York. You see, this girl has recently moved here alongside her family, that's the only lead we have on her. I wouldn't have bothered you all, considering the amount of troublemakers within this family, but the girl has proven to be elusive. The wizards tasked with finding her have returned empty handed." Crumbs' words definitely bursted Justin's bubble on being the 'hero', but seemed to only fuel his determination further.

Max, meanwhile, perked up. "So, we're kidnapping a girl? Sweet, I'll get the duct tape."

"Max..!" Jerry practically barked at his youngest.

"What? That's what he said.." Max muttered in reply, sinking into the couch further.

Professor Crumbs pinched the bridge of his nose, already regretting his decision on visiting the Russo's. "Let me be perfectly clear. If you meet this girl, and no we have no idea how she looks or who she is, you are to politely bring her to the Wizard World. At any cost, but still politely."

"Right. Kidnap her, but politely." Alex quipped, earning a chuckle from Max and a groan from the rest.

Jerry smacked his hand down onto the coffee table. "Don't any of you understand the gravity of this matter!? If this girl loses control, it could be a disaster. Magic is dangerous in untrained hands, especially for someone who's body isn't meant for it.

"Not to mention," Said Crumbs, helping himself to pancakes- contrasting the tension in the room. "If she isn't brought to safety immediately, she could-"

"Die?" Alex interrupted, her smirk fading away when the Professor nodded. For a moment her cheerful demeanor fell, eyes holding genuine concern. Though, she masked it quickly with her usual bravado "That's great".

Crumbs stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin that appeared out of nowhere. "Any leads connecting to this girl should be reported immediately. Remember, we are short on time." Said the professor before materializing into thin air.

"Believe me professor, I'll be sure to find this girl and bring her to you..!" Declared Justin as Crumbs vanished.

"Cool. Justin can play hero. I'm heading out." Alex mused, already nearing the door.

"No, you sit down right this instance, this is a family matter..!" Exclaimed Jerry, pointing to the couch as he stomped his foot on the ground.

"So...we're all politely kidnapping her?" Max blurted out, eyeing Jerry with confidence in his words.

Jerry sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "I give up."

------

The sharp scent of bubble wrap and cardboard lingered like an unwelcome guest as you slumped onto your pillowy mattress. Moving to New York had been exhausting- three days of unboxing, adjusting to new neighbors, and dealing with the hustle bustle of the noisy city. You only massaged your temples, trying to calm yourself down- shaking off the strange feeling that clung onto you since your arrival to Waverly Street.

Ever since your walk in the park- under that whimsical willow tree - things had begun to spiral into a direction unknown. A sinking feeling drilled a hole deep in your heart but you ignored it. At first, you chalked it up to stress, but then little things started happening.

The time your suitcase flew up on its own, when you'd been too tired to unzip it and unpack- spilling clothes everywhere. Or maybe it was that golden aura- the faint glow you caught in the mirror - you swore surrounded you, like fairy dust from a children's book. You were tired. Stressed. And maybe just a bit loopy, imagining things. 

That's what you told yourself, but the truth had to unveil itself. And the time was tonight, right now.

You were seated at your vanity, rubbing moisturizer into your skin when something sparkly zipped past your ear. This time you couldn't convince yourself that it was a dream. Two tiny figures, no taller than your hand, sat casually atop your jewelry box. One in a glittery pink dress with matching wings, fluttered in excitement. The other, clad in green, smiled shyly at you- hiding behind her friend.

"Finally..! She can see us!" Said the pink one, her voice chipper and high-pitched. "We've been trying to get your attention for days, but it isn't your fault either. It took some time for the magic to settle within you.."

You blinked several times, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Honestly, you looked no different from a deer in headlights. "What...what are you..!?" You exclaimed, scampering off your chair in panic- bumping into your furniture along the way.

The pink one rolled her eyes dramatically. "Pixies. Duh". Gesturing towards herself she smiled "I'm Rosa, and my shy little friend here is Ivy. Say 'hi' Ivy!"

Ivy timidly waved to you, coquettish eyes looking away and unable to maintain eye-contact. "Hi.."

This was not real, no way. You pinched yourself, wincing at the sharp sting that followed. Okay, so not a dream. Your heartbeat quickened as you pushed your back towards the wall. "Pixies...like fairies? What in the Sleeping Beauty is going on..?"

"Aw, she's in denial. Cute, but no. We're pixies, not fairies. Totally different things. We're more sparkle and less forest vibes.." Rosa blabbered, clearly offended that you compared her to fairies.

You only stared for a few moments before picking up a pillow to shield yourself from them. "So it's not a dream..." You muttered to yourself, glancing around the room in a frenzy. "Okay, then why are you guys in my room!?" You blabbered, pointing your fingers at the two pixies.

"It's not our fault...you're the one who...um...absorbed a nymph's soul." Mumbled Ivy, just above a whisper. Her wings trembled with anxiety as she stood up for her actions. "We're attracted to such pure forms of magic...that's why we lingered.."

"I did what now?" You asked, confused as to what was going on- now even nymphs existed?

"When you walked under that willow tree.." Ivy continued, fluttering closer to you with newfound confidence, though she was still cautious. "That gust of wind, wasn't wind. That's why these strange things have been happening to you.."

Rosa chimed in, her tone too cheerful for the occasion. "Congrats! You're basically a walking magical miracle now!"

"You're joking, right? You guys are out of your mind." You mumbled, looking at them as if they were crazy.

"Says the girl talking to pixies."

Touché.

"So what now? And why me?" You asked, trying to satiate the curiosity within you.

"We don't really have all the answers, we're just the messengers- not even actually. We were there when it happened and we're here now so we told you what we knew.." Mused Rosa, folding her arms as she dramatically pondered over something.

"Nymphs are unpredictable...we don't know why she chose you." Ivy timidly chimed in, her voice gentle as ever. "But, what we do know is that you need help. If you don't learn to control your magic, horrible things could happen..! It could overwhelm you, even-" Ivy was frantic with her explanation, as if something was going to hurt you- and you really wanted her to continue but Rosa interrupted her

"Don't say it." Rosa covered Ivy's mouth. "She doesn't need to know that now, and not by us..!"

"Know what?" You pressed, leaning in closer towards the duo.

Rosa only gave you a nervous smile before zipping towards the window. "Let's just say, things could get...messy."

Ivy, frenzied, looked between you and Rosa- who already flew off into the night. "I-I really need to go but just remember...everything is not what it seems.." She whispered into your ear before dashing off behind Rosa, leaving a large trail of pixie dust.

Needless to say, you didn't get any sleep the whole night. Now, not only were you probably seeing things but were definitely going to have dark circles for your first day of school tomorrow. Great. Just great.

___*___

Author's Note: Honestly writing this for my inner-child and because Max Russo deserves more fics. This chapter was only there for context so be prepared for when our MC meets our ML (Literally giggling and kicking my feet). Also, trust me guys I WILL ADD MORE THERESA IN (and definitely adding in Harper too).

Hope you enjoyed!

My first fic on my new (other) blog !!!

So excited for this one (totaly healing my inner child) !!!

Be Careful Not to Mess With the Balance of Things"

Introductory post !!!

Max Russo x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 (more coming soon...)

Synopsis:

When the usual becomes unusual all because of one girl…

Professor Crumbs never dropped by for casual visits. His sudden arrival carried grave news: A soul transfer by a nymph to a mortal girl, giving the mortal magical abilities. The girl, unaware of her new powers could fall victim to death or insanity if her powers were left untrained or weren't fully removed.

The Russo's weren't sure how exactly they played into this but once told that the only clue on finding this girl was her recent move to New York, alongside her family- things made more sense.

"So you want us to kidnap her?"

Naturally, none of the Russo's expected to actually bump into this girl, especially not Max. But upon bumping into the new girl at school, things took a sharp turn.

That girl was you.

Caught in a whirlwind of cheesy romance, clichéd tropes, and something as unreal as magic was you, painfully aware of how ridiculous everything seemed to be.

"Why does it feel like we're in a sitcom?"

But this wasn't a sitcom. Behind the sandwiches and spells was an ugly truth.

"You might die. Emphasis on the 'might'."

The 'might' didn't make it feel any better when everyone was so serious.

___ * ___

Y/N L/N

"What in the bippity boppity boo is this..?"

"So you kidnapped me?"

"Oh no. I have magical powers. What a catastrophe."

"Why does it feel like we're in a sit-com?

Max Russo

"So yeah, we need to not not kidnap you. So I think that means we need to kidnap you."

"You like sandwiches too?"

"I can't believe you guys thought I wouldn't do something so stupid."

"You have beautiful eyes...like olives. I think I'm hungry."

Justin Russo

"Does it not get through your thick skull? You have magic powers and need our help to help you control them. Thus, you should totally follow us into this cramped corridor. So what if we're strangers?"

"You might die. Emphasis on the 'might'."

"Since I'm the student body president, your actions affect my reputation. SO STOP THIS. Thank you"

Alex Russo

"When did the music get so romantic and WHY IS MAX HOLDING A BOUQUET?"

"Isn't it fun? You have magical powers, so what if you might explode. Yeah no, that sounded better in my head."

"Relax, without stupid people we wouldn't have anyone to laugh at, right Max?"

"Try this spell, it might work. I found it in this book- "Definitely Not Curses". See, they aren't curses."

Harper Finkle

"Like my new outfit?  Only made of bubblewrap and cardboard."

"I don't think anyone needed to see that.."

"Why does she get magic powers and I don't? Oh, she might die? Nevermind."

Jerry & Theresa Russo

"They'd make a cute couple, right Jerry?" "Agreed"

"That's it Jerry. I need an explanation, now." "Argh..! Max, word your sentences better..!"

"That girl could die." "I know."

Professor Crumbs

"No Justin, I am not taking you on an escapade."

"Oh, I didn't expect them to actually find you."

"This is quite an interesting case, truly. I just don't understand why the Nymph chose you."

"Anyone for some tea?"

__ * __

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character's from Wizard's Of Waverly Place, all credits go to Disney for the character's used from their franchise. The only characters I claim ownership of are one's I invented myself. 

Author's Note: Hello guys, I'm Brownie and this is my first story on this fandom (or anything Disney really). This is supposed to be a crack-fic but it still has a plot and is still taken seriously by me. When I say 'crack', I mean that the MC (you) is VERY self-aware- and obviously Y/N isn't Candace but that's the kind of vibe I'm going for. I'm talking about the "this is the eleventh time we've bumped into each other today" OR "Why does it feel like we're in a rom-com movie" kind of humor. BUT because I'm recently in LOVE with Max Russo, the character, I JUST HAD to start writing this. Not to mention, there's a lack of fics on this fandom and him specifically (I'm on a mission to change that)

To read it on Wattpad

My other blog (main)

My New (other) Blog!

Recently took a break from writing and kinda left my blog for a bit. I will be returning writing for twst as soon as I regain my lost motivation.

Anyways, I've been rewatching old sitcoms I used to as a child- the silly ones from Disney, and I've been completely OBSESSED with Max Russo from 'Wizards of Waverly Place'. So much so, I had the motivation to write again- a fanfic at that.

I created anew blog for it, in which I will be writing various stories/fanfics based on my childhood sitcoms. If you guys are interested, check it out!

My new blog: brownieblob

If you wanna jump straight into the fic: Be Careful Not to Mess With the Balance of Things (this is the introductory post and chapter one is linked on it)

Thank you, enjoy!

"You are mine" OR "You belong to me"

MALLEUS, LEONA, ROOK, FLOYD, Sebek, Ace, Vil, JAMIL, Idia, Jack, LILIA, Azul

"I am yours" OR "Yes, my dear, I belong to you"

Deuce, Jack, Malleus, Jade, TREY, RUGGIE, LILIA, SILVER, Azul, KALIM,

That new skeleton guy's making me feel a lil something something

Like why's his smile so freaky

I feel violated by his stare but at the same time....continue

Respectfully you may continue with your freaky stare (I might be the real freak guys)

AHHHHHH SO CUTIE PATOOTIEEE MY BABIESSSSSSS

this month’s deuace day was also bunny day so i had to!!! 🐰🐰🐰

OMGOMGOMGOMG THIS DESERVES MORE APPRECIATION!!!

AH... HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL.... THIS IS THE BEST RIDDLE IVE EVER DRAWN.

WE DID IT!!!

I have reached my first goal for this blog all thanks to you guys!!! This motivates me to write more in the future!!

Thank you so much everyone!!!

"So many treats to choose from, so many more to come"

-Brownie

LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEE

Feeling rather proud of this one. I offer it as a DTIYS challenge!

I doubt it's original at all but..when I showed another wip of this piece to my qpp.. Prince Riddle AU.?🌹👑

I'm working on requests right now and I'm really sorry it's taking time. my birthday just passed so I was taking a break + writer's block. I'll try my best to finish up with them soon!!

WOWWWWWWWWWW

赤面寮長ズ

GUESS WHAT ITS MY BIRTHDAY (I HAD THE NEED TO ANNOUANCE IT BECAUSE IT DOESNT FEEL SPECIAL AND I WANT IT TO AND I KNOW KNOW ONE ACCTUALLY READS THESE BUT THAT'S OK)

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEAAAAAA

HEYYY YALL AGAIN IDK IF PPL READ THSE BUT OH WELL.

IM WORKING ON REQUESTS RNN (YOU CAN CHECK WHAT IM WORKING ON AT MY PINNED POST) ANDDDD IM TRYING TO BUBBLE IDEAS ABOUT SOEM NEW FICSS

FEEL FREE TO REQUEST SOMETHING (READ THE INFO ON MY PINNED POST B4 THAT PLZ) AND IF I DON'T DO UR REQUEST IT'S PROBABLY BECAUSE IM HAVING WRITERS BLOCK OR SOMETHING IM UNCOMFY WITH!!! IF IM HAVING WRITERS BLOCK, IT'LL TAKE MORE TIME THAN USUAL BUT I WILL MOST LIKELY FINISH THE REQUST!!

(IDK WHY THIS IS ALL IN CAPS EITHER)

AHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS OMG OMG IM SQUAELING

ORTHO AND GRIMS PART BAHAHAHHAHA LOVE ITTT

" 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 "

It wasn't the usual request, when you asked your partner to do your make-up . . but now you're here, while he tries his best to paint you like a canvas . . Ft. dorm leaders + ortho & grim

gender neutral reader / established relationship / some sections are suggestive / mean!vil(?!) / slightly self indulgent / squirmy / fidgety reader / semi-edited / proofread (I skimmed it over a couple times) / platonic for ortho & grim / confident!Idia(?) . . I got carried away / slightly rushed on some parts (Azul) /

a/n: new account who this? (old account is @/cupids-chambers)

"Ah— fuck", Leona mutters, clearly displeased, leaning closer into your face to inspect his mistake, carelessly he dragged his finger down the bottom of your lip, hoping to wipe away the remnants of his careless mistake.

"Happy now?", he asked, leaning back, crossing his arms as a shit-eating grin adorned his face, admiring the work of art he had created on your face, though he'd never quite admit how gorgeous you looked, right now—if he was an artist, you'd be his magnum opus—of course a brilliant art piece can only be made with an equally brilliant muse.

Your hand gently grazed over your face—Leona was surprisingly good at make-up, despite struggling in the beggining, you accidentally let a word of praise slip past your lips—which earns you a cocky chuckle from the man—"Told ya', I'm great at everything."

Vil's hand gripped your thigh, holding your legs still and in place—his other hand, gently lifted your chin, facing you towards him, your gaze meeting his—"Hold still for me dear", were the words he spoke, his tone firm and commanding.

You could smell the cologne he used from this level of closeness—and you're sure that if you leant a little closer and stuck your tongue out, you'd be able to taste it—The familiar and comforting, clean earthy-musk scent, you've gotten so accustomed too, the scent whic—"Y/n, darling—are you listening?"

When you don't respond, he clicks his tongue in annoyance, the grip on your thigh tightening in response, and you winced at the shift in demeanor, "Ah my apologies, I did tell you to hold still . . . did I not, my love?"

Malleus's hand grazed the side of your cheek, his movements gentle as he tilts your face towards his, your eyes finally making contact.

His gaze seemed so focused—so entirely enraptured by you—he noted all the details of your face, and engraved it in his brain—the curve of your nose, the plump soft flesh of your lips . . The way your pupils dilated upon eye contact—you were so perfect, tooth-rottenly sweet.

He gripped the liner in his free hand, eyeing your face curiously, "Ah—close your eyes for me, my dear—please?" . . He watched as you closed your eyes tightly, as if on instinct—'Dear seven why were you so fucking adorable?'

He chuckled softly, "This won't do—" he spoke casually, his thumb gently traced the bottom of your lips, "Relax my love, stop squirming . ."

"Rosebud, I don't think I was the right person to ask for help on something like this . . ", Riddle mumbles, as he runs the brush through your face with such accurate precision, although he seemed to be so very against the idea of doing your makeup, aware that he'd probably mess up . . Riddle still found himself agreeing to your request.

"Stop smiling this isn't funny", he spoke, his voice was gentle—although you could tell, he was trying to sound angrier, though he was failing miserably.

Riddle had done a great job, despite his various protests, he was practically straddling you, with how close he was right now, Riddle was asked to do something well, and he was committed . . . even if that meant being this close to you . . Something, he unsurprisingly, wasn't use to—or at least something he didn't personally initiate often.

Kalim giggled as he fiddled around with the makeup brush in his hands, he carefully tapped the extra product off the blush before gently gliding the brush over your face—he tried his best to not overdo the blush.

Kalim had made quite a few mistakes during this whole process, on account of his fidgety hands and general inability to remain still—"There, all done!", he announced proudly, as you examine his work—"You look gorgeous", he mumbled out unconsciously.

Though at your lack of response he grew a bit concerned, "Ah—I'm sorry, I probably took a lot of time . . Right?", he asked, his tone more apologetic, than proud . . until he noticed the shift in your demeaner—"Though—as they say—you can't rush perfection!" he joked, trying to lighten the air once more, thankfully it worked, as he watched the concern on your face morph into that of content.

Azul held the eye shadow palette up in the air, trying to figure out which shade would best suit the look he was going for, he had quite limited options . . not that you had a few eye shadow options, just that the pallets you had, had a limited shade range.

Azul dapped the brush into the navy eye shadow, "I'll use this as a base, if that's okay with you?" he asked for confirmation, and only proceeded after you nodded. "You know . . you could be a makeup artist . . I heard Vil's looking for a new on—" you spoke up with a smile, a teasing edge to your words that caused Azul to smile.

His fingers lightly tapped the side of your cheek, "No, this is just for you, all for you."

Idia was hunched over, in front of you, hand gripping the bottom of your chin, lifting you up to meet his gaze, "Could you like, part your lips for me?", he asked, gripping the lip liner in his other hand, "Yes, just like that" he grinned as you followed his demand, his thumb dragging just below your lip, pulling it just a bit more apart.

He dragged the liner carefully, following the outline of your lips, then grabbed the lip shade he had in mind, filling in your lips . . "Shit, got put too much on—" he paused, "let me just—", he leaned down, your lips meeting his for a soft, lingering kiss, "there . . perfect . ."

Ortho fiddled around with your lip options, fingers digging through your makeup bag, for something that could work. Well, you found out Ortho could match your makeup with colour theory, artificial intelligence and all. But what started as a harmless experiment, and fun activity, now had you glued to a chair for the past hour.

Ortho held up his lipstick of choice, "How about this one?" he asked curiously, and before you could respond Grim piped in, "Too dark, makes them look like a—", your glare cut him off, "never mind, it looks great! . . henchman looks amazing in everything!!"

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

LOVEEEEEE

Forgot to post it here so now I'm doing it

LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE

Leona：Don't cut corners, Floyd. Floyd：I don't want to be told by you.

ROOK MON CŒURRRRRR AHHHHHHHHh

im just gonna repost my older twst art for now till i doodle anything else :333 here's rook!!

"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 1

TW: Kissing in Malleus' part, forehead kisses, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 2 (Separate): Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

ᥫ᭡. Kalim Al-Asim ᥫ᭡.

Like the scorching sun in the Scalding Sands, Kalim's feelings for you burned deep within his heart. Why is it that he wants to spend time with you, but the moment he does, his heart seems to stop? Why is it that the word 'friend' bugs him when associated with you? Why is it that he wants to be selfish, to hog you for himself? His mind become's mush whenever you're near and his throat feels dry, he just feels so shy.

Kalim is everything but shy.

Expensive gifts, prized heirlooms, rare gemstones, and any luxury you could name- he'll give it all to you, so why do you reject? Anyone else would accept his gifts with open arms, encouraging him to give more. Wait, you aren't anyone, you're you. You don't take, you give. Despite the little you have in this new world, you who harbors no magic, gives him joy. You spend time with him, you care for him, and you don't take from him- he really wishes you would.

Take his riches and look back at him just one more time, he swears he'll hand you all the gold he can acquire. So please, please just look at him more.

You're caring, so much so that he could just melt in your arms. How lucky he feels when you look at him, but why? Jamil looks at him too, he doesn't feel as if mice are tickling him then. No, when you're around, all he can see is you. You who shines brighter than any gemstone his wealth could buy. You are not a prize to be won, he knows, but he wishes that the glitters of gold could woo you, make him your number one.

He feels so lost and it hurts, nights spent sobbing away.

Kalim, the name alone makes you smile. Someone who's kind despite all that he's faced, all the horrible people he's met- he still believes in the good of people. Some call it naivety, you call it 'a heart of gold'. Yes, he's sheltered, there's some things he's slow at, and he has flaws. Despite said flaws, he want to become better and you see him try every single day. You've seen how he makes everyone comfortable, always including anyone and everyone, how he's akin to a drop of sunshine. It's a rarity and you appreciate it greatly. Twisted Wonderland, it's new to you and things are difficult but when Kalim's there, things don't feel that difficult.

He doesn't look down upon you, he doesn't think you're weak despite having no magic, and he certainly never belittles you- others have and that hurt.

He's always up for some fun, but it always feels better when he can share the fun with you. Thus, flying carpet rides have become your nightly routine. There's a soft knock on your window every other night, a hand extended your way; calling you to live, be happy. You can't help but blush when the carpet takes off, his body huddles closer to yours and the moon seems tease you with how bright she is.

It's another night and he's come to pick you up to go see the Scarabia moon. You're sitting next to each other, the desert seemingly glowing underneath. The stars twinkle and you swear the breeze is cool on purpose, just so the both of you have no choice but to lean into each other. Hands intertwine, both of you looking the other way, cheeks red like cherries.

"I..I love you."

You fumble out on mistake, your breath hitching the moment you realize. His head whips towards you, garnet eyes appraising your blushing visage. A soft smile appears on his lips, his sun-kissed skin peachy with a blush of his own.

"I love you too."

He says eagerly, hands wrapping around you as he pulls you in. The moon looks bigger, the stars winking at you, and the scent of sandalwood engulfs you. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead, one that lingers. Like a pair of sea otters, you both hold the other's hand.

ᥫ᭡. Vil Schoenheit ᥫ᭡.

Center of attention, even the room's filled to the brim with pretty faces. Eyes the color of violets and a smile that's so striking, it could cut right through you. Just how a bright star commands everyone's admiration, Vil himself does exactly that. With beauty that's akin to a velvety rose, thorns sharp and drawing blood of the one who dares touch. He's not sure why he's so fond of you, really, it baffles him. Your constant babbling should bother him- your posture isn't perfect, you don't regularly use the products he recommends to you, and your diet could use improving.

He only recently realized the perfection of imperfection. That's what you are, like an abstract piece of art that can draw even the most elegant man's heart. Truly, you can take his breath and keep it, which is a difficult feat to accomplish. Yet, you seem to have done just that.

He doesn't like how drawn he is to you, the you who could improve so much. Nevertheless, he can't deny how his heart flutters when you ramble on and on, the words you spew seem like pearls to him. Undeniably, you've got his heart, and it bothers him.

Vil seems unreachable to you, as if he's a god and you're a follower. You can see him, but you can't touch. Everything about him is captivating- the way he moves, how he walks, how he talks, everything. You feel like a toad in front of him sometimes. Still, the reason your heart continues to flutter is not his beauty but how soft he can be. His words may be harsh, telling you to fix your posture or add a certain product to your skincare, but he means well. It used to irk you, how he pointed out your flaws, but he never touched an insecurity- it was never something you couldn't fix. Many times, he only tells you how to improve and that's in his nature. It started with you muttering curses under your breath, now all you do is give him a dopey smile as he flicks your forehead.

It's hard to love Vil, and you're sure that it's even harder to be loved by him. He's untouchable and you're not sure if he'll even spare you a glance. But, the nights you spend at his dorm, him tending to your skin as you blabber about your day. Or the few rarities when he opens up, speaking of his insecurities. It shows how human he is; how he too, can feel.

It's another night at his dorm, your skin's worsened as of late and Vil's ordered you to give him a visit. You sit at his vanity, the light's so bright that it could blind you, but what truly blinds you is Vil himself in all his glory. His dampened hair, the ends the color of wisteria, and the scent of patchouli just makes you want to melt right then and there. He strides over with a new product in his hand, carefully beginning to massage your face with it.

"I love you."

The words come out instantly, his hands stopping in motion as his violet eyes widen. A sheepish blush coats your face as you realize what you said. Your breath hitches, the fear of rejection drilling into your mind, and your heart drumming against your chest.

"That's quite bold of you, sweet potato.."

He lets out a small chuckle, eyes holding content. He leans closer before flicking you on the forehead gently.

"I love you too."

ᥫ᭡. Idia Shroud ᥫ᭡.

The buzz of video games, the stench on junk food, and an interest for oddities. Idia Shroud was a wallflower, yet you'd managed to befriend him, something he's truly grateful for- your presence. He liked you. You understood him, you never belittled him for what he enjoyed, in fact, you encouraged him to continue. No matter how good or bad you were at a game, you'd play alongside him. It didn't matter whether you enjoyed his rambles, you'd listen no matter what, before babbling on and on about something of your own interest. Nights like this, filled with games, reading manga, watching anime, and spending time with you- he never wanted these to end.

You were brave, so unlike him. You had no magic, still you managed to show courage, to fight against overblots. How he wished he was you, no, how he wished he was yours. The realization hit him like a truck in an isekai, quickly and out of nowhere. When he figured he liked you, he didn't let you anywhere near him for a week- opting to hide in his room and not leave. It took some convincing from Ortho and also the fact that you may dislike him if he ignored you, before he opened his doors for you once again. Nevertheless, he was skittish, averting his gaze from your face, and sitting on the other end of the couch when you visited. That worried you, you were sure you'd messed up big time and he became uneasy around you because of it. Thankfully everything became normal after two weeks, he was sure he wouldn't be able to recover.

The truth was, you liked him too. It was weird and something unforeseen, you both started out as friends- you'd visit his dorm, play games all night, munch on junk together, and then laugh at all the cringe characters in the current anime you both were binging on. Right now, you were experiencing that cheesy crush from a shoujo manga, and the feeling was messing with your brain.

The gloomy boy you pined for was everything but dreamy, somehow, that's what made him so charming to you. Hair an electric blue that flared up like flames, pale skin akin to porcelain, and eyes yellow like daffodils. His physicality was mesmerizing but there was so much more to his character too. He was passionate about what he enjoyed, jabbering on for hours about his interest, something that you didn't mind one bit. He was competitive, striking a triumphant grin whenever he'd win a game against you. He's prideful too, his creations making him an utter genius. At the same time, he held such emotion, a man who would never judge for he himself experienced the badmouthing of others.

There's just something about Idia, something that makes your cheeks flare up. You're not sure if he notices how his presence can make you skittish, how you become timid when he's near, and how divine he seems to you. He never notice how he makes you feel, how ironic that you become just like him when he's near.

Just like the usual, you're cooped up in his dorm alongside him. You've been binging an anime for the past few hours and the way he's so focused on the characters while you're so focused on him, it bothers you. He feels so close yet so far and the fact that you're having such thoughts about the whole situation, makes you feel stupid.

"I love you.."

You immediately pause at your own words, Idia pauses the show too. There's a long silence in the room and before you know it, Idia's moved far away from you. His hair's become an electric pink and his eyes are wide.

"W-w-w-what..!?"

He exclaims the words as if he's animated, the feeling of fluster surging throughout him. Were you playing a joke on him? This wasn't right, it couldn't be. His gaze averts the other way every time you look at him and he won't admit it, but he really hopes you're not joking.

"I love you, Idia."

You say again, softer this time and you yourself look the other way, peachy blush coating your face. You're cursing yourself for speaking up, palms sweaty and clammy. You feel dizzy and your breathing is erratic , the feeling's mutual. The room's silent again, no one says anything and the only sound either of you can hear is the buzz of the computer.

"I...I...I dove, no, love you too.."

He mutters out, fumbling his words while he does. You both look at each other, shy gaze. Your lips form a small smile, making Idia's hair flare an even brighter pink. His face is rosy and he'd rather not look at you but you're just so pretty that he can't help but look.

You're not sure how it things fell in place but he accepted your confession, and now you've somehow managed to cuddle up to him. He's stiff but that's fine, the mere fact that he's holding your hand tightly is enough to reassure you. That, and how smug he looks.

ᥫ᭡. Malleus Draconia ᥫ᭡.

Child of man, you truly are peculiar. Malleus Draconia, the name alone makes millions, if not billions, tremble to the bone. He holds such unrivaled power that the thought alone is fearsome- he is fearsome.

A monster, that's what many would call him, but you don't. No one dares approach him as carelessly as you do, a bumbling smile on your lips as you walk next to him without a care in the world. Do you truly not know what he's capable of? 'Tsunotaro', that's what you've named him- quite bold of you, not that he minds. Please continue to enlighten him about human practices, he's interested in every thing you have to say.

Loneliness is a disease that he's suffered from since his childhood. It's second nature to be alone with his own presence, silence a bandage that covers but doesn't heal his wounds. Yet, the way you come to him, invite him to all your little events, how you choose him. How can he be lonely when he has you?

You, who is so bright like a star coated in gold- is he even allowed to go near you? It feels as if you'll break in his hands, yet you seem so brave, putting yourself in danger with a smile. You've got his heart in your hands and it hurts that you don't realize.

'Friend' was a word he grew to love, knowing the special bond you shared. Nevertheless, it's the same word that has caused Diasomnia to have horrible whether for the past week- you're a friend to many but a lover to none. Be his, child of man, he's the only one worthy enough to call you his.

Since the day of his realization, Malleus follows you as a second shadow would. Now, no one with ill intentions would dare approach what he's already considered his. Truly, how precious you are. Giving him small shiny pebbles you find, trying to tuck daisies into his hair but being unable to reach his head, and the times you try to tease him as a joke, making the silliest of faces. Please tell him that he's the only one who has the honor of seeing you in such various forms. Dragons are hoarders, you know? And he wants nothing but to hoard you all for himself.

Spending time with your Tsunotaro is always fulfilling. His knowledge on gargoyles, the depth in which he speaks of them and how little he knows of human interactions. It all makes your heart flutter, eliciting a smile on your lips. It's not difficult to have feelings for someone such as him, it comes naturally. He seems so intimidating, dangerous even and it's not that he's not- he is, but there's so much more to him. He's curious, always listening to what you have to say. He's sweet, always handing you gifts whether small or unimaginably grand. And the manner in which he speaks, the elegance he holds, he's just as charming as any prince in a book- if not more.

When you began actually having feelings for him, all his words seemed to make your mind all fuzzy. Could he really not tell how his vocabulary affected you? 'My dear', 'my love', and all other forms of endearments had become a usual, so much so, that it felt right.

You went on walks with him, spotting gargoyles and chatting about them. Sometimes you drag him to picnics with and he happily follows, letting you braid his ebony hair. Still, not everything you shared seemed friend-like, and if it was, you didn't want it to be. The way his emerald eyes gazed over you, how his touch lingered so gently, and how his lips brushed agains your ear when he said he'll keep you safe. It couldn't mean nothing, you didn't want it to.

A walk in a meadow at nighttime, how strange, but also the daily for you. You walk alongside Malleus, skittish and timid- this isn't how you usually act. The moon's peeking out from under the clouds and casting a silver sheen on all that it lands on. Fireflies scurry around slowly, the cool night air making you feel at ease- but it's not enough.

Your face is flushed and you won't meet his gaze, he's not sure what he did wrong. His frame towers behind you as you seem to walk quicker, increasing your pace. Hurt, that's what he feels; did you start seeing him as a monster too?

You can't leave, please- he'll beg if he has to, give you all of what he has and can create. Promise you'll stay, and don't ever leave.

Then you pause, turning around as you take deliberate steps towards him. You look up, your smaller frame covered by his daunting shadow.

"I love you, Tsunotaro."

You say with a certain melancholy in your voice, as if you know he'll reject you and your love. How could he ever think of rejecting? He'd rather pierce his own heart and bleed to death than ever think of rejecting any of your words.

His viridescent eyes widen, the glow of them seeming intense. His hands holds you in place gently, he seems to be staring at you, looking you as if you're the most fragile piece of glass. The words don't spill out of his lips and you look more desolate by the second- he seemingly can't speak, he's not sure if this is but a dream.

"I love you too, child of man. So much that you wouldn't believe it."

His hands wrap you in a desperate embrace, almost as desperate as the words he'd just managed to choke out. It was as if you would wither away if he let go, as if he was making sure you were not a dream.

Your own eyes widen, lips parting shock at his words. The night seems magical and his embrace is sincere. He pries away from you only to look at you more, all your expressions- please continue to show such faces to only him. Only he should see you like this, with your face flushed red and eyes widened as you stare at him as though he's the only man in the world. His hands seem shaky, unlike who he usually is.

No, he seems so vulnerable and you seem to be his vulnerability.

Everything seems alright when you're there, he doesn't feel loneliness; far from it, actually. He doesn't feel like a monster when you love him, when your own arms loosely wrap around his neck as you pull him in for a soft kiss- no, monster's don't get such luxuries.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!

Note 3: I didn't expect the last part to get so much attention, thank you so much everyone. I greatly appreciate everyone's interactions with my posts! As of now, I'll be working on requests and maybe some other ideas! (I really hope this part 2 is good too)

PART 2 OF "I LOVE YOU" IS GONNA BE UP TOMORROWWWW (I DONT THINK ANYONE'S GOANN READ THIS)

Edit: i dont know if ppl looked at this post but it's up guys

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO SO MUCH!!!! BAHAHAHAH

"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 2

TW: Kissing in Leona's part, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 1 (Separate): Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto

ᥫ᭡. Riddle Rosehearts ᥫ᭡.

Like the thorns on a rose bush, Riddle's words were piercing and harsh. A follower of rules and also a preacher. Even so, what rules could he apply to you? You who was from another world entirely, you who understood little of his world yet were so brave, and you who broke his rules but never angered him. He was so utterly confused. He wasn't sure what he felt, really, you were far from perfect- mother wouldn't approve . Still, he couldn' t deny how his cheeks flared up when you walked into the same room, how he'd slightly fumble his words, and especially how his warnings were much tamer when you broke a rule. It all had to mean something or maybe he was going crazy. How could he like you, even a little- but how could he not?

But he had priorities and you weren't supposed to be one of them, you weren't meant to be a worry, you weren't supposed to be anything. But he cared. So much so, he didn't mind when you broke his rules, it felt right. It was the opposite to all that he was taught, something was amiss. It felt like a fresh breath of air, akin to sunlight engulfing him in a warm embrace. He felt at peace when you were nearby, as if he needn't be so uptight. Maybe it was alright for a few rules to be broken, to enjoy what life had to offer, to allow himself to relax.

He really was grateful for your calming presence, reminiscent to a fresh cup of herbal tea- with a slight hint of cinnamon, subtly spicy. Just like you were, not quite sweet but not sour, maybe spicy was the right term? So earthy and full of life, different from his dull self. But with you near him, he didn't feel so dull even he could be fun- at least you enjoyed his presence, it was enough.

Despite that, you weren't fair- why did he feel so warm when you came close? What right did you have making his face go red, and not from anger? Who allowed you to be so ethereal?

It wasn't fair.

How you were so insufferably pretty, and the way you'd willingly spend time with such a hot-head like him, trying your best to follow the rules of his dorm. You'd try to accommodate yourself to him, you'd really do that for him? He could just melt in your arms. The way you didn't mind when he lectured you for your recklessness, not speaking up but simply eyeing him with wide eyes- how was he even supposed to speak? You'd study alongside him, let him tutor you and afterwords you'd always stay for a cup of tea. He got used to it- your company and your mannerisms. Different from him, yet truly appreciated.

It was another tutoring session when something unforseen took place. Your hand was raveled in your hair as you grumbled and groaned, you hadn't expected the study packets Riddle provided to be so difficult. You had a test in two-weeks, it was time you started practicing practical magic, lucky you having Riddle by your side.

It was a tough night full of nit-picking, you'd say he was mean but you could see how he was trying his best to be tame with his words- how they were harsh but not mean, truly, this was also a challenge for him.

Hours went by, the moon rose in the sky and you were a tired mess, at least Riddle's tutoring helped. You were just about to thank him when the words spilled out of your mouth, unknowingly. Sleepy eyes looked up at him while a soft smile played at your lips.

"I love you, you know?"

How cruel of you to simply doze of afterwards, would you not even listen to what he had to say? Maybe it was for the best, if you were awake he wouldn't be able to meet your gaze. After all, his face was even redder than before, butterflies in his stomach as he simply stood there- had he been dreaming? He hoped not, it would be sadistic of life to play such a joke. He only realized it wasn't a dream when your head touched his hand, you were asleep and comfortable- you felt safe around him, trusted him. It was endearing.

Nevertheless, it was improper for you to doze off all of a sudden. But, just for today, he'd allow you- 'rules are meant to be broken', was what you always said. This was his form of breaking a rule, such a rebel he was. His hand traveled to your face, cupping you cheek gently before he draped a blanket over you- red like roses and Riddle himself.

"I love you too.."

A whisper, he hoped you heard it. Maybe you did and maybe you didn't- he might say it once more, after you awake. Till then, just let him admire you who looked so serene.

ᥫ᭡. Leona Kingscholar ᥫ᭡.

You're really gonna keep trying, aren't ya herbivore? Always trying to push him to go to class, to set his life straight. Really, why do you even care? Every time he pushes you away, orders you to bring him a snack, tells you to remain his pillow. You do it. Why do you stay? No one else would- he's a prince, is that it? His wealth, his influence, the power he holds. Is that what you want a part of? Everyone else had, just to ditch him after.

If you do, he doesn't mind- just stay, please don't go.

He wouldn't admit it but he liked your presence, the way you constantly clung to him, tried to lend a hand to help him who was strong while you were so weak. He might just go to class now, and he does, much more than before. You're a motivation he works for, it brings a smile on your little face. He wants it to stay, he doesn't even know why.

What really affects him is when he realizes, that you stay not for his money, nor his power and influence. You just like him. You enjoy his company, him as a person, an individual. He's not 'the second prince of Sunset Savannah' to you. No, he's Leona Kingscholar to you- not a second option, not someone you'll leave any time soon, and someone you genuinely care for.

Fine then, if his herbivore stays for him- he'll work them. You are a motivation to him, with your sweet words and the time you willingly spend- he too will work for you and be your reason to remain in Twisted Wonderland.

Was it selfish of him to want you to stay, no matter the cost? Maybe, but he is a prince- some habits don't leave, especially not when he's found his reasoning to move forward. He'll change some of his ways for you, it's cute when your face lights up as you notice him heading to class.

He doesn't change every one of his ways though. Why would he, when those ways of his allow him to see your face? You being pulled by Ruggie and towards him to wake him up, and you do- soft nothings spill from your lips as your try to wake the lazy lion before you. Of course he's awake, it's clear he is when he pulls you beside him. His weight stops you from moving, it's a usual now.

"Just stay for a bit, yeah? I promise I'll go to next class after, so just stay with me."

You do, it's comforting but so confusing. It's not appropriate for you to have feelings for someone like him, a prince of another world- you might have to go back to your won, though, you don't really want tot leave when Leona's around. It feels as though you're doing something meant for 'more than friends', something wrong. None of you confront it. It's serene in this silence, his warmth, in his embrace. It's a mutual feeling of safety, a haven. Let it last while it does, he'll make sure it's forever.

"I love you."

And the words spill out of your mouth, no ones near, just him and you. One of his eyes open, a neutral look on his face- you're not sure what to make of it. You don't have to, he's just shocked, not that he'll admit it. He didn't expect his herbivore to be so bold, he likes it, he likes you- loves you too. A grin soon flashes on his face, sharp canines flashing before he pulls you closer. You know what he's insinuating, you abide. He has a hold on the back of your head, hand intertwined in your hair.

It's a surprisingly soft kiss, it makes you want to melt- this is his answer, his reciprocation to your declaration of love. He's too smug to say anything.

Then the both of remain, safe in each others embrace. Your legs are entangled and chest touching the other's, you both relax.

"Love you too herbivore."

It's fleeting words, so soft that you barely heard them and if you did, you're not sure it's reality. As you seem to doze off, there's one thing in your mind. Where else would you go other than his embrace? This was your home.

ᥫ᭡. Azul Ashengrotto ᥫ᭡.

A swindler in the flesh and a contract that binds one to the other. Azul wishes it were that easy, but it's not. The last thing he wishes for is your hatred, you're already wary of him. The interactions he does manage to secure, somehow quite frequently, always render you even more skeptical of him. So guarded and cautious, his reputation's not the best but he isn't a monster, so why are you always scurrying off? Just let him speak, please?

But fate has another plan in mind for you always seem to bump into the swindler that you seem to avoid so- match made in heaven? As if. You won't believe his sweet lies, you won't sign a contract with him- but that's not what it's about. He doesn't wish for a contract, just some of your time.

As your interactions with him increase, you're introduced to very many versions of Azul. Being a swindler was just one part of him, the one that made wary. Nonetheless, he wasn't a monster- quite sweet actually, once you spent the much needed time with him. Words were exchanged, and you were warming up to him, slowly but gradually. Placed on his palm is your trust for safekeeping, you hope he doesn't break it.

As time goes by, you realize the swindler isn't at all what he seems- he has his own walls guarding him, his own insecurities. It's not what you expected, yet it adds to his character- it makes him human, he has a heart. The parts he hides are what attracts you to him- he sees it as a moth to a flame, hiding his failures. Yet, you look at it as a bee to a flower, so dainty a bond but so sweet.

Days go by and you notice how shy he can be, the smallest things can fluster him who seemed so sly. It's endearing, really. Your walls slowly break down, revealing your true person while he allows you to see glimpses of his own self, slow but steady. You don't mind, you both can take your time- walk hand in hand towards trust.

It's another night in his office, spent with him working on contracts. He truly is a hard worker, ambitious too. You admire those qualities, maybe not all the work he does but him as an individual is what you like. You don't seem to notice how the three words roll off your tongue, hand tangled in his locks of gray, seemingly playing with his hair; until you do, in fact, realize.

"Azul, I love you.."

Ink is spilled everywhere, the black coating the table and contracts on it. The pitter patter of the liquid allows him time to realize what you really said.

Those words that spilled of your tongue- so sugary sweet, could it be true? No contract needed, no form of force just his presence alone would suffice? He was enough.

His hand clutched yours tightly, ocean eyes looking up at you from his seat, tears spill from his eyes. He was so vulnerable in that moment, you found his true self as he had found yours. It's a nod from you that shows him that it's not a joke but reality.

"I-I love you too.."

He fumbles the words out too, a faint blush coating his cheeks as he looks away and to the ground. A giggle escapes your lips as you plant a kiss on his cheek.

Maybe the swindler was swindled by your love, except there was no catch- just your love, all for him.

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I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE (ESPECIALLY MY ABABY KALIM I JUST WANNA EAT THIS WHOLE ART PIECE)

Dorm heads after school

at first I was just gonna draw malleus but decided nahhh, I wanna draw all the dorm heads chilling on cool chairs, unwinding after classes are done

No words. I love this.

idek if this is accurate but in my mind that's the first thing that popped up

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS!!! MORE PEOPLE NEED TO LOOK AT THE SITUATION FROM THIS ASPECT PLZ GUYS THEY CANT GIVE UP ON EACH OTHER CMONN

Okay but Kalim going "I hate that you're so two faced and manipulative" to Jamil, finally admitting his negative emotions, but also saying to dream!Jamil that that's the guy he wants to be friends with, not him, is just peak character development. Before he was blind to the reality of who Jamil actually is and brushed everything off, but now?

The nice, friendly Jamil - the one that's convenient for him - isn't the one Kalim wants around. No, he wants to befriend the real Jamil Viper - the two-faced, cunning guy who betrayed him. He genuinely wants to improve their relationship and see Jamil for who he is as a person instead of projecting what he desires onto him and ignoring the reality that they are master and servant.

Kalim truly cares for and wants to be friends with the real Jamil, flaws and all.

based on the hc that rollo is twsts version of french and rook isn’t