On this page I plan to share my writing projects, both fiction and original works. I'll host collaborations, challenges and events for everyone to enjoy.
Some works will be marked as NSFW, users below 18 or without age in bio please do not interact or you will be blocked.
That being said I hope you enjoy your stay.
𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 ⊛ 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 & 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ⊛ 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚋𝚘𝚡 ⊛ 𝚃𝚒𝚙 𝚓𝚊𝚛
𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 -
The Goth Boyfriend
Black Swan Akutagawa
The Nerd Boyfriend
𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎?
Twisted Mafia AU
The Bunny Boy Club (under construction)
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 -
My AO3
My Instagram (under construction)
My Bluesky
✳Credits for the dividers you may find in my posts goes to @cafekitsune. Reblog and support the owner's work✳
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Hey so I’m curious, I saw you write smut of the first years and I was wondering if there’s a canon timeskip where they’re adults? I’m a bit new to twst so I haven’t gotten that far. From what I know all first years are 16-17, and most second years are 18 later in the story with the exception of Kalim and Riddle
The game of Twisted Wonderland, as far as I'm aware, does not have a time skip where everyone are adults but I do write them to be all 18+ when writing smut.
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the apartment felt unfamiliar in a way akutagawa couldn’t explain.
he had lived here. walked these floors. memorized every corner. yet now, as he stepped inside behind you, something in his chest tightened like he had entered a place he no longer fully understood. his gaze flicked from the couch, to the table, to you, then immediately to the small bundle in your arms.
“…be careful.”
his voice was quieter than usual, but still firm. you glanced back at him, tired but amused, adjusting yami slightly against your chest.
“i am being careful.”
“that is insufficient,” he replied without hesitation, already moving ahead of you. in seconds, he had fixed the pillows on the couch, straightened the blanket, and cleared space that didn’t need clearing. it was too precise, too controlled, like he was trying to impose order over something he couldn’t control at all.
you sighed softly but sat anyway, easing yourself down with a wince. his attention snapped back to you instantly, sharp and alert.
“…does it hurt?”
“a little,” you admitted. “that’s normal.”
his jaw tightened, clearly dissatisfied with that answer, but he said nothing. instead, he hovered close, arms crossed for a moment before uncrossing again, unsure where to put his hands or what to do with them.
for a long time, he simply stayed there. watching. listening. making small adjustments, handing you water, fixing the blanket again, checking your posture like he was afraid you might break if he looked away too long. it was stiff, almost awkward, but there was something deeply careful in every movement.
“you can sit, you know,” you murmured at one point.
“i am fine.”
“you’ve been standing for like twenty minutes.”
“that is irrelevant.”
you huffed a quiet laugh, too tired to argue, and let your head fall back against the couch. for a moment, everything was calm. then yami shifted in your arms, letting out a soft, fussy sound.
akutagawa went rigid.
“…she is distressed.”
“she’s just waking up,” you said gently, adjusting her. “it’s okay.”
his eyes didn’t leave her. “i will handle it.”
you blinked, a little surprised. “…you will?”
there was a brief pause, the smallest flicker of hesitation crossing his expression. but then he stepped closer anyway, extending his arms with careful precision.
“…may i?”
your gaze softened instantly. “of course.”
you guided yami into his hold, helping him support her properly. he followed every instruction exactly, his movements controlled but cautious, like he didn’t trust himself not to do something wrong. the moment she settled against him, he stilled completely.
for a few seconds, he didn’t even seem to breathe.
“…she is… small.”
you smiled faintly. “yeah.”
his thumb hovered near her cheek before finally brushing against it light, almost hesitant. yami stirred, then leaned slightly into the touch, her tiny body relaxing against him.
that was all it took.
something in his posture shifted. not dramatically, but enough that you noticed. his shoulders lowered a fraction, his grip becoming less rigid and more natural. his gaze softened in a way you had never quite seen before, still intense, still focused, but no longer sharp.
“…yami,” he murmured, like he was testing the name again.
you watched him quietly, your chest warm despite the lingering exhaustion. “she likes you.”
“she recognizes me,” he said, almost thoughtfully.
“of course she does.”
he didn’t respond right away, just kept looking at her like she was something fragile and irreplaceable. then, without much warning, he moved.
closer.
you felt it before you fully processed it, his shoulder brushing yours as he sat beside you. it wasn’t something he usually did. akutagawa wasn’t the type to seek contact so easily.
but now, he didn’t stop there.
slowly, almost cautiously, he leaned into you. not heavily, just enough that his head rested against your arm. his face pressed lightly into the fabric of your sleeve, careful not to disturb yami in his hold.
you went still for a second, surprised.
“…akutagawa?”
he didn’t move away. if anything, he settled slightly more, his voice quieter when he spoke.
“…stay.”
it wasn’t an order. not really. it sounded closer to something fragile, something he wasn’t used to asking for.
your expression softened immediately. “i’m right here.”
“…good.”
silence followed, but it wasn’t empty. it felt warm, steady, filled with soft breathing and the faint movements of yami shifting between you.
akutagawa’s thumb continued its slow, careful motion against her cheek. his eyes never left her for long, only flickering up to you occasionally like he needed to confirm you were still there too.
“…i will protect her.”
his voice was low, certain.
you smiled gently. “i know.”
a brief pause.
“…and you.”
that made your chest tighten slightly. you turned your head just enough to look at him, though he didn’t lift his own. his face remained half-hidden against your arm, but you could feel the way he leaned into you, subtle, grounding.
“you need to recover,” he continued quietly. “do not overexert yourself.”
you huffed softly. “you’re already giving orders?”
“i am stating necessary precautions.”
you smiled, too tired to tease him properly. “i’ll take it easy.”
“…you must.”
his tone softened at the end, losing some of its usual edge. for a while, neither of you spoke again.
yami eventually settled completely, her tiny breaths evening out as she slept in his arms. akutagawa adjusted his hold instinctively, more confident now, more certain in every small movement.
and still, he didn’t pull away from you.
didn’t create distance.
he stayed exactly where he was, leaning against your arm, holding your daughter carefully, keeping both of you within reach.
where he could see you.
where he could protect you.
where, for once, he allowed himself to rest without resistance.
“…stay like this,” he murmured again, softer this time.
you smiled, eyes drifting closed as exhaustion finally pulled you under. “okay.”
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Here is a small set of rules to interact properly with my blog and “do”s and “don't”s when requesting.
contents
While there are some sfw fics and drabbles, my blog is mostly nsfw so minors, please, refrain to interact with those specific fics.
Dark content, while I might not be the best at writing it, is not shamed on in here, but please handle it with caution.
when sending a request
Don't spam the same ask over and over, it will not automatically guarantee you a response. Don't overflow my inbox when I don't respond, I am an adult with a job and responsabilities and writing takes time.
Don't send a two-words request, I don't accept those, nor biblical-long pharagrafs. Too little or too much takes the fun out the writing experience, find the middle of the two things.
You can send a request for single and multiple characters.
When sending a request specify what gender you want the reader to be: female, male or gender neutral, there's love for everybody! If you don't include that my default option is female.
Blurbs and ideas, both brainrotting smut and theet-rotting fluff, are always welcome.
fandoms
The main fandoms I write for are:
my hero academia
twisted wonderland
haikyuu
jujutsu kaisen
bungo stray dogs
(There are other Characters I like from other fandoms but haven't included them here or the main masterlist beacuse I only like one or two in the entire roster, so it hardly qualify as a “whole fandom”)
kinks...
I have written plenty and red my fair share of “obscure” ones, so these are the ones I don't write for:
necrophilia
full bestiality
scat/piss
underage with adult
gore
public humiliation
incest
yandere/stalker behavior
torture
extreme bondage/roleplays
...if I find more I'll update the list.
...and delicate things
When writing angst to fluff (beacuse full-on angst is my greatest enemy) there are some things I wish you all to keep in mind: a sprinkle of trauma is thumbs up, a full phsyciatrist conversation is not okay.
no hate no problem!
Don't spread hate, don't harass people and don't shame anyone's interests. Hate anon comments are deleted and users blocked. This is a safe space for everyone and I don't allow bullies in here.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this new summer event where you, dear and loyal interviewers are the protagonists. Are you ready to meet the ballroom guests?
✠ the event will start and end on 5th to September 13th
✠ if you would like to be a participant of this event send a message off anon / comment and Boss’ PR office would send you a reply
✠ any type of reader (female, male, gender neutral) is welcome, as well as OCs
✠ VIP seats (taglist) will be open as soon as the event starts for anyone who wants to be notified for new fics
✠ NSFW and dark content is allowed as long as it’s properly tagged, minors are not encouraged to interact with those
✠ this event is meant to be fun and an enjoyable creative experience for everyone. Hate is not tolerated and you will be blocked
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Synopsis: Azul is not a fan of nature, especially not of dusty reaches where cold business majors and technologies haven't set foot since the Wild West. However, his auntie Ulia just decided they'll spend the whole summer at the “Golden Oaks Ranch”. Three whole months in the company of a young cowboy whom Azul can't tear his eyes off.
«Come on, Azul, honey, don’t look at me like that,» Aunt Ulia chirped, glancing at her nephew, who was sulking in the passenger seat. «If you keep sulking like this, you’ll have wrinkles before you’re thirty,» she reiterated, pinching his cheek.
«First point: I’m not sulking at all, just annoyed. Second point: I have every reason to be,» Azul countered, pushing the woman’s hand away from his face. «I can’t believe my parents consented to such a kidnapping.»
«What kidnapping? My little fishy, you watch too many movies about mafia gangsters,» Aunt Ulia giggled good-naturedly, lovingly ruffling her nephew’s lilac hair.
«I’m here against my will; in fact, my opinion wasn’t even remotely taken into consideration. Therefore, this is a clear case of kidnapping.» Azul replied, straightening his hair and glasses, which had slipped from their rightful place.
«Your parents made this decision for your own good. Staying cooped up in your room all summer, hunched over your books from dawn to dusk, is an attack on your health, my little finn,» the woman stated, her voice sweet and cheerful but her tone firm.
«A top grade in economics is achieved through hard study and dedication. Plus, I had an exam to prepare for.»
«An exam you don’t have to take until November.»
«How do you know?»
«Your mother told me, of course.»
Azul barely held back an annoyed snort at Aunt Ulia’s sly smile. Obviously, the two sisters were in cahoots against him and his studies—his mother had even confiscated all the textbooks he’d packed.
«This is an injustice,» the young man muttered irritably.
«My little fishy, you must have fun while you’re still young!» Aunt Ulia ignored him. «Three months in the middle of nature, without university or technology, and you’ll be a new young man. You’ll see, it’ll be a lot of fun with your auntie!»
«Yay. I can’t wait…» muttered Azul sarcastically.
A ranch.
Aunt Ulia had picked him up from his home—with his mother’s help—in her flaming red vintage convertible, dragging him to a dusty ranch in the middle of nowhere. It sure was looking like a fun summer.
During the car ride, Aunt Ulia tried several times to strike up a conversation with her stubborn nephew, but failed; Azul responded in monosyllables or not at all, retreating into a protesting silence like a child. The woman, after several failed attempts, preferred to fill the silence with the music from her car radio—which was also strictly vintage.
The cold concrete highway and soaring modern buildings had now given way to gravel paths eroded by time and nature, and verdant, unspoiled landscapes. Wooden fences, far different from the perfectly symmetrical white-painted ones typical of a residential neighborhood, and fields full of golden ears of wheat. Rolling hills that felt they blended into the sky the more one gazed at them.
They had been traveling for a few hours now, the road seemed endless, and the heat was beginning to melt his skin into the car seats, but Azul—more out of stubbornness, but above all, to avoid giving Aunt Ulia any satisfaction—didn’t say a word, and absolutely didn’t ask how much longer they still had to reach their destination.
Rather, he preferred to suffer the heat in silence and become part of the upholstery of that car.
Five hours.
Five interminable, suffocating hours later, they had overcome the blanket of dust and finally reached the “Golden Oak Ranch”.
The colonial-style house, with warm tones and a wooden porch, stables painted red and white, the paint flaking that much it was old, haystacks and bales scattered here and there, and pens of grazing animals that watched the newcomers almost curiously from afar. In short, it looked like the classic ranch from those sappy, romantic movies for single women.
Azul wouldn’t have been surprised if a cowboy suddenly appeared—with a wide-brimmed hat, hairy chest, rough, veiny hands, and a perfectly trimmed, masculine beard—and started flirting with his auntie as if he were less than a valet.
«Do you smell the fresh air of uncontaminated nature, little fishy?» said Aunt Ulia, taking a deep breath and encouraging her nephew to do the same. Azul wondered how his aunt could look as fresh as a daisy despite having driven the entire time, decked out in a headscarf and silk hat like a diva in Monaco, while he seemed to melt into a puddle of his own sweat at any moment.
«The air I smell isn’t a very fresh one, Auntie…» Azul muttered under his breath, referring to the stench of livestock that had hit him like a freight train the moment the convertible’s engine stalled.
Azul hated places like that. Dusty riding stables, muddy farms, sweaty villagers who preferred clinging to silly, sentimental traditions than balancing the books. If anyone in that place forgotten by civilization even knew what balancing the books meant. The young man brushed away some annoying, stinging straw that had mysteriously gotten into his hair and sighed.
Did he really have to spend the whole summer in that place?
He should’ve accepted the invitation from Idia, his fellow campus mate, and gone to that comic book convention on the other side of the country; at least he’d have some fun there.
«Are you sure this is the place, Auntie?» Azul asked between panting breaths.
«Absolutely!» chirped Aunt Ulia.
«Then it must not be much of a good establishment, considering there isn’t even a barn cat to welcome us.»
«Come on, little finn, don’t be sulky,» Aunt Ulia scolded. «We’re probably the first tourists of the day; we arrived well in advance, after all.»
Azul wanted to retort that perhaps they were the only tourists, but the sharp remark didn’t even have time to escape as the distinct clatter of hooves grew ever closer.
The cowboy arrived on a piebald steed. He wore a red checked shirt, sun-bleached jeans, calf-high boots, and a Wild West cowboy hat; toned forearms, rough, veiny hands, bronzed skin, and a dazzling smile—just as Azul had imagined him…only much younger than he’d expected.
At a glance, he and Azul looked about the same age.
Azul watched him dismount with ease, his back muscles flexing under his shirt, his rear clenching, squeezed into that pair of jeans that made his ass look pretty damn good.
When the young man adjusted his hat, their eyes met for a brief moment, and Azul was sure the already scorching temperature in that place had risen at least a few degrees.
«Wow! What gorgeous cheeks!» exhaled Aunt Ulia with the same emphasis in the voice of a high school girl in full hormonal phase.
Azul snapped out of his trance. «Auntie!» he squeaked, his voice two octaves above normal.
«What’s the problem? Beautiful things should be appreciated openly,» Aunt Ulia stated, paying no attention to her nephew’s shocked and embarrassed expression. Throughout all this, the young cowboy was watching them curiously.
Azul wanted to dig a ditch and bury himself in it in shame.
«Howdy!» the cowboy greeted, coming toward them. «I’m Scott Dawson, nice to meetcha,» and held out his hand. Azul shook it, more out of habit than courtesy, and nearly dislocated his arm from the force with which the other guy shook it.
«You’re from the city, right?» he asked. «Are you lost by any chance? It often happens to tourists; the streets here are all alike, it’s easy to take a wrong turn.»
Azul opened his mouth but was promptly silenced by Aunt Ulia.
«Nice to meet you, Scott. I’m Ulia, and this is my nephew Azul. You’re a real sweetheart, but no, we’re not lost at all. We’re here about your agriturism listing.»
Scott’s eyes widened, confused. «Um...you’re catching me a bit off guard here, ma’am.»
«Call me Ulia, honey,» she chirped, lowering her sunglasses to cast a bewitching glance at the young cowboy.
Azul stifled a retching feeling just in time.
Scott cleared his throat, embarrassed, «Look, I don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talking about. This is a ranch, not a vacay destination.»
«Strange, the girl on the phone said you guys had a chalet available all summer.»
«It must have been a prank by some joker. We’re not—»
The door of the house at the end of the pathway swung open, as if kicked in by a heavily armed Special Forces soldier, and a curious young girl’s head peeked out from the jamb. She had the same messy, curly hair and Scott’s bright eyes, which filled with sparks of joy.
«Ulia, dearest!»
«Maggie, darling!»
The two women ran to embrace as if they were two friends who hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime, amidst excited chirps and giggles.
Azul and Scott exchanged equally confused glances.
«Did you had trouble finding your way to the ranch?» asked the girl, Maggie, her long, messy hair bouncing as vigorously as its owner.
«Not at all! Your directions were crystal clear. In fact, I hope you don’t mind that I brought my nephew with me.» Aunt Ulia replied, holding the girl’s hands tightly in her own.
«Wonderful! There’s room for both of you in the chalet, from the bedrooms to the bathrooms. You’ll see, it’s like being in a palace.»
«Oh, that’s great news! For a moment I thought you’d given away the last rooms you had.»
«Why on earth would I?»
«Maggie!» Scott exclaimed, «Do you want to explain me what—». His sentence was interrupted by Maggie, who with lightning speed turned to the cowboy and began inundating him with a relentless torrent of words, without even giving him time to utter a syllable. «Scottie! You’re already back from your ride in the woods, I see. Just in time, I might add. I assume you’ve already met the two new cabin residents for the next three months, right?»
«Yes, but—»
«Perfect! Then help carry their bags to the chalet. They’ll want to relax after their long journey, don’t you think?»
«Wait—»
«Great spirit! Meanwhile, I’ll go ahead of you so I can show our guests the place they’ll be staying in. And don’t forget to lock the stables securely when you bring Orion back to the paddock. We wouldn’t want him to go out for another nighttime stroll, right?», and after quickly grabbing both Azul and Aunt Ulia by the arm, the lively girl dragged them along one of the many paths that branched off from there.
The cowboy was left on his own at their car with the same incredulous expression as a stockfish.
«As you can see, this is the living room,» Maggie explained with irrepressible cheerfulness. «Bright and welcoming, and in perfect country style.»
«Oh, little guppy, look! There’s even a fireplace, isn’t it gorgeous?» said Aunt Ulia, perfectly in tune with that girl.
Gorgeous, yes... if it were the home of a Texan granny with zero taste in interior design.
The fake bull horns hanging on the wall, with that olive leaf wallpaper, were truly an eyesore. Not to mention the long, worn-looking, brownish sofa that looked like a sumo wrestler sat on it and deformed all the cushions.
«Over here, is the kitchen with a small dining room attached.» Maggie continued with her tour. «Since there’s only two of you, I don’t think you’ll use it much, but I thought it was only right to show it to you anyway.»
Azul wouldn’t have even thought once of eating a meal at that table—besides being terrifyingly bare, you could see at least two inches of dust on the long tabletop; the kitchen was perhaps slightly better, wood with metal, cold with warm, modern with natural. Not as beautiful as the fully equipped kitchen he had at home, but still slightly better than he’d imagined.
Maggie continued to show them the rest of the chalet—from the garden overlooking the kitchen, to the upstairs with bedrooms and two bathrooms for guests, a locked storage room, and an attic. Azul had stopped listening to Aunt Ulia and Maggie’s adoring chirps, preferring exploring each room on his own and at his own pace.
Every room seemed frozen in time, apparently indifferent of the latter’s incessant flow. Dust danced before his eyes every time he moved something, cupboards creaked when he opened them, and white moths hovered in the room, circling happily in their freedom. Azul jotted down every detail in his mind, skepticism beginning to creep in with every strange thing he encountered.
It almost seemed as if the chalet hadn’t been open to the public for a long time.
He sat on the bed with its wrought-iron headboard, the springs whining under his weight. He glanced at the dressing table in the corner of the room, as elegant as it was antique. Then he turned his back to gaze out the window: beyond the edge of the garden, outlined by a crooked fence, endless fields of wheat, golden almost bronze in the evening sun. There, in the midst of that golden sea, a scarecrow stood—the sewn-on smile and the two-colored marbles reminded him of Floyd, his college classmate.
Yup, he would leave that room to Auntie Ulia. Without a doubt.
«Oh, that’s where you ended up, little fishy,» said Aunt Ulia, appearing from the doorway, her smile bright and her eyes sparkling with pure euphoria. «So how do you like the chalet?» she asked.
It could have been worse, Azul thought to himself, but for reasons of personal pride, he simply said, «Passable,» with an indifferent shrug.
Aunt Ulia’s smile widened. «That’s a good start,» she said with satisfaction. «Maggie left me the keys and told me the pantry should have enough supplies for tonight’s dinner.»
«Should?» Azul repeated, raising an eyebrow.
«Don’t you worry, my little finn. Your auntie may be a free spirit, but she still knows a few cooking tricks like a real chef,» Aunt Ulia replied, completely ignoring what her nephew had pointed out.
It seemed strange to Azul. If a place like that was rented for the entire summer, one would at least expect the fridge to be stocked with food, but then he realized that Aunt Ulia had paid for the place, not the food—a classic move of an unscrupulous real estate agent—and he let it go.
«Have you decided which room you’ll be staying in yet?» Aunt Ulia asked.
«I’ll take the other room.»
«I was kind of hoping for that, you know? That dressing table is truly delightful.»
«It creeps me out. I’ll gladly leave it with you.»
«Come on now, help me with dinner. We’ll unpack our bags later.»
Maggie was returning home when, right in the middle of the road, her older brother Scott, looking less than pleased, stopped her.
«When were you going to tell me you’d put an ad online for renting the chalet?» he asked sternly.
«I would have done so before Ulia and her nephew arrived… eventually,» the girl admitted, beginning to tug at the ribbon sewn onto her apron with nervousness.
«Eventually?» Scott repeated with irk. «So I’m supposed to be okay with strangers paying for a house that doesn’t even belong to us anymore?»
«The chalet still belongs to us!» Maggie retorted angrily, stung.
«This is called fraud, Margaret!» her brother replied. «I don’t know what silly plan you’ve got in your head, but there’s nothing we can do now—»
«Yes, there is!» his sister interrupted. «But both you and Uncle Mitch are too stubborn and proud to listen to me!»
Scott took a deep breath before snorting loudly, just like a bolting horse. He ran a hand over his face wearily—with all the trouble the ranch was going through, this was the last thing they needed now.
«When Dad finds out about this…» he murmured.
«But he won’t find out if you don’t go and tell on me, dear Scottie.»
«Are you threatening me, lil sis?»
«I’m just letting you know that nothing will happen if you play along.»
Scott snorted again. «And you seriously think the deposit that eccentric woman and her bored spoiled-lookin’ nephew paid for just three months is enough to cover what we owe our friend?»
«It may not be like winning the lottery, but it’s a good starting point for us to get back on our feet,» Maggie replied with burning determination.
Scott found himself sighing; his sister was more stubborn than a mule. She cared more about the ranch than anyone else and was willing to do anything to protect it.
«Okay, fine, I won’t tell Dad or your naive guests,» the young man conceded, but then asked his younger sister another question, voicing his concerns. «How do you plan to entertain your guests though? We don’t have state-of-the-art facilities like our neighbors—no swimming pools, tennis courts, or massage parlors. Three months is a long time if you have nothing interestin’ to do.»
«I’ll come up with something. I’m not short of ideas, you know that,» Maggie replied, passing him and stomping her feet until her figure disappeared over the descending hill.
«Oh, I know...that’s exactly what’s worrying me,» Scott said to himself, glancing at the lit chalet. A cloud of smoke was billowing from the kitchen window, and the cowboy half-heartedly considered sneaking behind his sister’s back, inform the unsuspecting guest of the situation, and passing it off as a fluke but he thought better of it, turning on his heel and heading home as well.
«It’s going to be a long summer…»
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