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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 3 months

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The Fire & The Selkie

In the ocean, especially this far North, warmth can be hard to find and harder to keep. But a spark starts on an island, far into the frigid waters. Will it flicker out, smothered by the winds and the mist? Will it ignite? Or, will it burn everything to ash?

Main character; Keith Howell

Content; Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns), maritime and selkie shenanigans

Content Warnings; Swearing, some fear

Word Count; 2.9K

You should have heeded the elders' warnings.

“Red sky in morning, sailor take warning.”

But you couldn’t afford not to go out on the water, and an old rhyme wasn’t about to dissuade you from missing out on earning some money from checking the crab lines and cast nets.

But now, several hours away from the safety of dry land, you found yourself fighting the waves and winds to keep your boat from capsizing. And with no crew, you were burning both from the cold, and exhaustion. You knew that if you survived this storm, you would most likely be sick if not with a cold, but also hypothermia.

It wasn’t the time to imagine the consequences of today if you didn’t live long enough to see tomorrow.

You spat out the salty water from your mouth and braved the storm. This was hardly your first one, but a dread weighed you down. The quiet part of your conscience, a part that was much older, was screaming caution.

Not caution about the storm, but of something else.

Nothing but fishing tales made larger than life. Is what the rational part of your brain argued, but it was unsure.

While there was no such thing as monsters that lay in wait under the waters waiting for a boat to devour, you did know that if you were to capsize, you wouldn’t be coming out of the water alive. The frigid water would sap all warmth from you, and you would slowly sink to the bottom. The only evidence of you being a destroyed boat drifting to some coastline.

You gritted your teeth as a particularly freezing wind blew back the hood of your coat, causing your eyes to sting from the salt in the air. You didn’t even bother trying to fix it, knowing that it would be a fruitless endeavour trying to keep it up — you could use that energy elsewhere.

You gripped onto the wheel tightly, barely being able to feel it, and pressed forward.

Did you know where you were going? Not in the slightest. If you didn’t at least steer into the waves, the only place you would be going was Davy Jones’ locker, where many of your more reckless and overly confident community members had found themselves before.

Some would say you were reckless and overly confident as well, it was always a calculated risk. Even today.

Just today was by far the largest risk you had taken yet, but the potential yield from those traps and lines would be able to not just feed your community but also could prove to change your life from being just an errand runner, to finally running your own boat.

To finally be a captain of a crew, and not being some lackey for the drunkard in town. To be the one making orders yet still treating your crew fairly. To be fully in charge of your own life and not be at the mercy of others.

A flash of lightning struck the horizon, providing a blinding light in the darkness that was the storm. And from that darkness, you could just make out a tall, dark mass that pierced from the ocean.

Please, please, please. You silently begged the sky to send another bolt of light to illuminate the way. Just long enough for you to figure out how to navigate there.

BOOM!

A crash of thunder. Any second now, light would follow.

As if answering your call, lightning danced throughout the sky, just long enough for you to steer the boat to face the island.

Fighting the waves, and screaming back at the howling winds, you were also laughing like a madman, all sense of sensibility — and perhaps sanity — thrown out the window. The time for that was long gone, and you were rapidly running out of both energy and willpower, but also gas. The needle tipping right above zero.

It was a last-ditch effort, and you didn’t slow down as the boat practically crashed into the rocks at shore.

Another boom and flash of lightning seemed to congratulate you on surviving and welcome you to the island. And while you were relieved that by some stroke of luck that you had made it through the storm and made it to some semblance of land, you also knew that this island — a speck in the middle of a frigid sea — was not just a lifeline, but also a death sentence if you couldn’t call for help, or someone didn’t find you.

But fighting the panic that was starting to build in your chest, and threatened to choke your breath, you hauled the boat further up shore to where the waves and the thick mist couldn’t reach, and flipped it to the side, watching water pour out. Once only a few drips trickled out, you flipped it upside down, creating an artificial cave, blocking out the roar of the wind, and the outside world.

After hours of noise, the relative quiet made your ears ring. But you couldn’t relax just yet, knowing that if you fell asleep now, you wouldn’t wake up.

Adjusting the boat — how a dingy piece of metal managed the storm avoided you — you shuffled like some absurd hermit crab to where you could place the damned (or blessed?) piece of metal so you could get some airflow.

To survive, you needed fire, but you also didn’t want smoke inhalation to be the death of you, nor hypothermia.

You poked around in the few storage containers you had on board since they were the only dry things you had on hand. A pot, a steel wool sponge, some batteries, and a threadbare blanket, that was what you were willing to sacrifice.

“Come on,” you whispered, a white cloud escaping from your mouth, “work for me.”

You placed the battery on the steel wool sponge and mentally sighed in relief as you saw it slowly turning red before catching on fire. Gently, you placed the small fire on the blanket, anxiously waiting for it to spread.

Soon, the cold from the hours of exposure was traded for the warmth of a fire. But the burning from the cold was replaced with shivering that shook your whole body.

Knowing that it would take much longer for you to warm up if you kept on the layers of soaking fabric, you gently peeled away the layers until you were just wearing the slightly damp thermal leggings and top.

Scooting closer to the fire you made yourself comfortable, as comfortable as you could knowing that finding help was nearly impossible and sat there, knowing better than to fall asleep.

…

Sometime throughout the night, you had drifted to sleep from exhaustion and the comforting warmth of the fire. The cawing of sea birds waking you from a dreamless sleep.

The storm had passed, but it had left its mark.

You had bruises, the aching kind that would definitely be an ugly shade of purple and oh so tender, and now in the weak light of day, you could see large dents on the boat, from where the waves had continuously struck at the haul.

Crawling out from your makeshift shelter, you stretched out, feeling and hearing all sorts of cracks and you groaned at feeling the tension release. Sleeping on cold rocks didn’t do you any favours, but you were thankful that you made it to see today.

But since you could actually see more than an arm's length in front of you, you took the chance to inspect the craggy island, to see if there was anything of use besides the abandoned fishing nets and other man-made debris that had also found its way here.

You walked down the narrow shoreline you had beached yourself on until it slowly opened up to a larger beach. There wasn’t much, a seabird here or there, but what caught your attention was a seal, basking in the weak sunlight.

You had seen seals before, but never for long since they would slide into the water at the first sight of humans. And you stood there, just looking at its content sleeping face.

The seal was cute, just look at them, but you kept on moving, going towards a small cliff by the water that was encrusted with marine plants. While not super appetizing, they would be enough, plus you didn’t feel confident in trying to catch one of the aforementioned seabirds currently. So the algae would be enough for now.

Happy with your collection of assorted marine plants, you started making your way back. You looked back though, hoping to see the seal one more time for an added dose of some much-needed serotonin, but they were gone, the only evidence that they were there was the slide track going towards the water.

Your mouth twitched, nearing a frown, before you shook your head and continued back to camp, not really looking forward to your meal.

It was more or less the same when you got back, but the same feeling that you had while in the storm, to be cautious.

But what danger could be found on some craggy spire in the midst of the sea? As far as you knew, you were the only other person here. But your brain and your body were on high alert.

Ignoring your breakfast of ocean-provided greens, you carefully looked around your camp. All seemed as it was before you left, but upon entering under your boat, you found a large fresh halibut on the rocks, dead.

It couldn’t have washed up to shore, the tide didn’t come up this high. Upon flipping the fish over you found one large puncture mark.

Something had killed this fish and left it in your camp while you were gone for less than three hours. And while one part of you was grateful that you wouldn’t just be dining on seaweed, another part of you felt sick with dread.

You weren’t alone. They knew about you, maybe even have seen you, but you haven’t seen them.

You felt dizzy, and running out of your boat tent, you vomited into a rocky crevice.

“Tch,” you huffed, wiping your mouth. “If you think this is some sort of game you can fuck right off!”

Spinning around you hoped to see someone trying to hide, or to at least hear some sort of sound, but all you found was a seabird sitting comfortably on your boat, and another (or perhaps even the same) seal sitting at the tide line.

They looked at you curiously and turned their head to the side. Like they were surprised by your outburst.

You furrowed your brow, “Maybe I’m just going mad. Swallowed too much seawater.”

Shaking your head, you crept back under your shelter. But there was no denying that the fish was caught by someone and not by yourself. Your stomach gurgled, and putting aside your suspicion, you started a fire and prepared the fish. You might have not caught it, but like hell were you going to let it go to waste.

Soon, the suspicion was replaced for contentment at finally getting some hot food into you. And you looked outside, wondering when you would be getting an answer.

…

...

Keith didn’t have company very often besides the seabirds, so he took to sunbathing when possible, fighting away the cold of the ocean. Warmth was a hard thing to be found.

Sure, that jangly fellow visited every few months, but he hardly counted as good company. Something about him irritated Keith, but he couldn’t put a finger on it, so he just stayed polite, waiting for the man to leave. Their interactions were icey, much like the ocean waters that he knew.

But there was now a new visitor, they crawled out of the raging sea, a fire burning bright in them. Even though they were shrouded by darkness and mist, there was a warmth. Keith could only watch in curiosity as they fought their way out of the water and made a camp.

Fire was a rare and precious thing, not easily made or kept here, the cold and damp forcing it to die out sooner or later. But the new human, who was looking half drowned and half dead, was burning so brightly that Keith could only watch as orange light slowly illuminated the makeshift shelter they had made.

Humans rarely ever brought anything good with them, the litter on the beach being evidence of that, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Even while exhausted and barely holding on, they were fighting where some may have just given up.

In a place that was typically cold and isolated, Keith couldn’t help but think that maybe the ocean had finally answered his call for a companion.

So he watched, and took notice of their shivering form. Unlike himself, humans weren’t made for this type of weather. He couldn’t just waltz in though, not wanting to scare them away.

After what felt like hours, the human finally fell asleep, somehow getting comfortable on the rocks even though they would definitely leave bruises on their skin. Keith slowly made his way towards the shelter, and looked curiously in, making sure that there was no chance that they were still awake.

But nope, you were out cold.

Keith slowly took off his seal coat, morphing into a man, and gently placed it on you, knowing that it would warm you up.

A part of him was a tad disappointed that you didn’t turn into a seal like him — you would have made an adorable seal — but he felt his face warm up as you burrowed subconsciously into his coat, curling up into a ball. Warmth in his face? That was new… but not unwarranted.

And he stayed on the other side of the shelter, by the entrance, but still close enough that if you woke up suddenly, he could take his coat and high tail it out of there if need be.

Giving your coat to a human? What am I thinking?

But he also didn’t want you to die. You brought vibrant warmth to the cold landscape. While he knew the fire could bring warmth, he also knew it could burn and destroy, consuming everything in its path.

He also knew that in order for him to be bound to you, like the old wives tales told, you would have to not only take his coat, but also give it back. The tales said nothing about him lending and then taking it back without you knowing–

The rustling of the pebbles moving took him out of his thoughts and he snatched his coat back and made a beeline for the water, quickly throwing it overtop of his self. Once back in the relative safety of the sea, he peered over the waves to see you crawling out of the shelter and stretching out, much like he did when sunbathing.

And then you were making your way down the shore, heading west, towards the haul out beach. Knowing that you were headed somewhat in that direction, Keith made his way there.

Its not so I can see them, no, just trying to warm up is all.

But he usually didn’t get a flutter in his chest from the prospect of sunbathing.

Naturally, he arrived before you did. Judging from his prior trekking experiences with that Silvio fellow, he reckoned that he had at least an hour before you stumbled your way to his haul out site. So, he stretched out, much like you did, however without the aforementioned cracking of every joint of his body.

He had a nice chat with some seabirds that were passing by, and mainly just enjoyed the weak sun that peaked through the clouds.

Then he heard your footsteps, and looked at you.

You looked back, only for a brief moment though, before continuing to the shoreline, picking up seaweed and algae. And even from the distance between the two of you, Keith could hear the gurgle of your stomach.

So, he went back into the water, into the depths, and hunted down a good sized halibut — surely a 5 pound fish would be enough for today? And left it in your shelter as a sort of welcoming/please don’t die gift.

But he wasn’t expecting you to come basically running out of your shelter and hurl into the cliff side.

“If you think this is some sort of game you can fuck right off!” You snapped, and Keith shrunk into the water.

Did you not like the gift? Did you find it offensive? Did he do something wrong?

But your ire, or what he assumed to be ire, cooled down and you went back into your shelter and Keith could smell the distinctive aroma of fish cooking. He usually preferred his meals cold, but he couldn’t help but wonder what hot fish tasted like.

He knew though that he would never have the chance, one human knowing of the existence of selkies was dangerous enough — what with the folk tales that still circled around after centuries — and while you may be intriguing, he couldn’t risk endangering everything just because you piqued his interest.

But he also couldn’t just ignore you.

You were a fire, and he couldn’t let you run rampant on his island because of the slight chance that you would burn everything to the ground.

...........................................

Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince au #ikepri #ikepri x reader #ikepri au #keith howell #keith howell x reader #keith howell x gn reader #hi yes i am unwell about selkies and my brain went 'hey what if keith was a selkie?'#yes silvio is mentioned but he'll probably won't make an actual appearance #*goes and hides away under a boat*#watch me kick and scream trying to stay committed to yet another fic (probably not this one since this is an original story line)#hope you enjoy keith kissers

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 3 months

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Ikemen Masterlist

Unsure of how many of the games I'll write for, so I'm just labelling it broadly for now. Currently just for Ikepri though.

Femme: 🌙 | Gender-neutral: ⭐ | Masc: ☀️

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

Ikemen Prince

₊˚⊹♡ Domestic Faction ₊˚⊹♡

Leon Dompteur

Nothing yet

Jin Grandet

Nothing yet

Yves Kloss

Nothing yet

Licht Klein

Nothing yet

₊˚⊹♡ Foreign Faction ₊˚⊹♡

Chevalier Michel

Nothing yet

Clavis Lelouch

Nothing yet

Nokto Klein

Nothing yet

Luke Randolph

Nothing yet

₊˚⊹♡ Palace Staff ₊˚⊹♡

Sariel Noir

Nothing yet

Rio Ortiz

Nothing yet

Cyran Rose

Nothing yet

₊˚⊹♡ Foreign Princes ₊˚⊹♡

Gilbert Von Obsidian

Nothing yet

Keith Howell

Fics

The Fire & The Selkie ⭐

Silvio Ricci

Nothing yet

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

You do not have permission to put my work into AI. If you are a minor, do not interact with NSFW works; you will be blocked.

#ikemen masterlist #ikepri masterlist #(most likely cause dear gods there are so many characters and ikepri has my brain in a vice grip currently)

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 3 months

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Move aside TWST, a new(ish) fandom is going to be your roommate on this blog

#dove rambles #still going to write for twst just i need other things to write for before i lose my patience for writing #i say newish because it's new to you guys but i post about it on my main blog #the fandom being the ikemen games (most like ikepri for the time being with some random ikevamp thrown in there)

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 3 months

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Hi, hi dove!! 🥺🥺💖💖💖 congrats on 400+ :D I'd like to request 'whispers of the past' with poly leona and vil (I am slowly being converted 😔😔😔😔) have this btw :))

Visions of the Past; Leona Kingscholar & Vil Schoenheit

Content; gender-neutral reader, past established polyam relationship

Word Count; 800+

A/N; Hi Soru!!! I whipped this bad boy out surprisingly fast (now that the writer's block is semi-gone) ... I will forgive you for that photo though since I'm conflicted about it in this context.

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

No wonder the house was a steal. But in this economy? You were willing to do a few renovations, maybe do battle with a spider or two, and make the best with what you had, since there was no way another opportunity like this would show its face any time soon.

Plus you were sick and tired of living with roommates that kept you up, didn’t clean up after themselves, AND ate YOUR leftovers. So yeah, creepy house it is! But a creepy house all to yourself!

You lugged your last box into the living room where you had an air mattress all set up since you didn’t trust the bedroom not to have its fair share of creepy crawlies. So the living room will do for now.

Only downside?

It was freezing, so cold that you could see your breath.

“Place is probably haunted,” one of your friends had chimed when you told them the news.

You huffed out a breath, rubbing your hands over your arms to fight away the goosebumps. “There is no such thing as ghosts,” you muttered.

Lounging on your air mattress though was a being that very much proved that statement wrong — not that you could see him — and another was standing next to you, studying your features.

You shook your head though, grabbed a broom, and made your way to another room, leaving the two figures alone again.

“So,” the man lounging on the air mattress spoke up, side-eyeing the other ghost, “they finally came back.”

The other ghost tutted, “They won’t remember anything, Leona, so don’t—”

Leona sighed and placed a translucent hand over his eyes, “I know better than to interfere, Vil.”

They both knew you, but you were different. Yes you didn’t look the same, but they could both tell your spirit regardless of appearances; that was what they had fallen for too.

The back-and-forth bickering that ended in soft looks. Of lazy afternoons spent resting in each other's laps. Of a tenacious person who wasn’t scared or intimidated by either of them.

You had captured their hearts in life, and oh, how they missed you in death.

They couldn’t move on, and at first it frustrated them both to no end — such is evident at the state of the house — but now, you were back, and for the first time in decades both Leona and Vil felt like their hearts were beating.

Yes, they had each other as company, but it felt like something was missing, a crucial piece. The crucial piece was you, you helped balance them out. You made it work.

“DAMMIT!”

Leona and Vil became invisible again as you ran out of the kitchen, chasing a bird out.

There’s that fire.

You slammed the door shut after you made sure there weren’t any more avian intruders making residence in your place.

“Note to self, make sure the house is empty before setting up camp. Yeesh,” you sighed, rubbing at your temple.

“Pft!”

Leona gave Vil a questioning look. Why did you make a sound?

Vil was wearing a soft smile, even though he had nearly blown their cover. And it made Leona pause; he hadn’t seen Vil smile like that for a long time.

You tensed and squinted your eyes. “Who’s there? Just so you know, I’m armed!”

With a broom and some attitude, herbivore.

Leona looked at Vil and then at you. And Vil looked at you and then at Leona. They were both trying to decide what to make of this situation. Trying to decide whether or not to pick up where they had left off in the past, or to leave well enough alone. Whether or not to listen to their head or their heart.

Leona grumbled but decided enough was enough. If the three of you were going to be living together again, it was best to get everything back in the open and not waiting around.

Vil raised his brow, but understood what the grumbling was about.

“And we’ve been waiting,” Vil sighed, slowly appearing next to you.

Your eyes widened upon seeing him, and they nearly bugged out of your head upon seeing another man appear right behind him.

They didn’t step forward, instead, they waited, curious to see your reaction. Curious to see if you were still as bold as you used to be.

You took a deep breath, gathering your wits before looking back at them. “Nice to see you too… both of you.”

No such thing as ghosts. That’s what you had told others so they didn’t think you were completely out of your mind. Who would buy a house knowing it was haunted?

You would, especially after seeing the photos of the two men with a third figure that plucked at a heartstring. You felt at home here. This — they — was your home.

“I missed you.”

~~~~~~~

Tags; @azulashengrottospiano @eynnwwyjth @inkybloom-luv @ithseem @savanaclaw1996 @syrenkitsune @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

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Made this on my main

Made a Character Bingo

Go nuts people

#character bingo #blorbo bingo #but catered to my thought process when picking my favs #not writing #idc if i get asks since i did some on main

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

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I'm not sure if your event is open just yet (potential time differences) but may I request Lilia, as the ghost, with the prompt 6.Bump in the night with romantic, fluff and maybe a bit of horror cause we know Lilia likes to scare people please?

I'm so sorry if I didn't do this right 😅

Bump in the Night; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, implied romantic feelings/pining

Content Warning; Swearing, light fear

Word Count; 700+

A/N; I hope you like what I came up with, Lilia will always be a little imp. And don't worry about formatting, you did everything perfectly!

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

You were grumbling to yourself as you lit some candles while holding a flashlight under your chin.

The power had gone out due to a blizzard, right when you were in the middle of catching up on your favourite show. But the weather didn’t care about the plotline or the barely warm soup that was now sitting sadly on your stovetop. No show and no dinner, you were shit out of luck tonight by the looks of it.

So instead, you grabbed all the candles you could find, a small horde of blankets, and hunkered down.

You fidgeted around, picking at some loose strings, and tapping to the beat of the battery-operated clock.

… bored bored bored THIS SUCKS bored bored bored …

You dragged your hands down your face. Why couldn’t the power go out while you were asleep? Why did it have to go out on one of your only quiet nights to yourself? Why couldn’t the power wait until you had your dinner?

The wind howled outside as if it were mocking you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and the candles snuffed out, one by one. Not by a draft, or wind, but as if someone was pinching off the flame. The room was cast into darkness, only the pale blue light from outside lighting everything up in a dim silver cast.

Face the issue at hand that had all levels of nope nope NOPE written all over it? Or, hide under the blankets like you were a kid again?

… you hid under the blankets. You reasoned it wasn’t from fear, but rather to conserve your body heat, since hey, the candles died out due to some unforeseen and totally normal reason.

But then you smelt something burning.

There was no power though, nothing was working so why was something burning?

You shuffled to the kitchen and peered out from your blanket cocoon.

The soup, which was barely lukewarm, was now a charred mess of black sludge.

“The hell,” you hissed, eyeing the baffling liquid. Part of your brain was screaming DANGER DANGER DANGER!!! And the other part? It was mourning the loss of your dinner.

A breathy chuckle was in your ear.

You wanted to move, but you couldn’t. You were frozen in place by some unseen force.

You felt delicate fingers trace the back of your neck before they came to a stop at a pulse point, which was easy enough to find since your pulse was beating like a trapped bird trying to escape a cage.

“You always look the same,” the voice whispered, the chuckle and playfulness long gone.

The voice flitted closer, and you could make out a hazy figure in your peripheral vision, but just barely.

The figure, a petite figure, came to a stop in front of you. The only thing about them that felt physical, that was the most clear, were their magenta almost red eyes. They bore down on you with a weight; of knowing, of countless years, of longing, and a mix of grief and mischievous — an odd combination.

“What do you want,” you asked, fighting your mouth to spit out the words.

The man, you assumed the spectre to be a man at least, gave you a soft smile.

He took your face into his cold hands, or at least tried to, and rubbed circles into the apple of your cheeks. “Many things, dearie,” he sighed softly, “but only if you want them too. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just want to see you happy.”

An odd thing to say when you nearly gave me a stroke.

Despite that near stroke though, you didn’t sense any malevolence from the ghostly figure who held you softly. And despite his cold touch, he was nothing but warmth, but in the sense of a weak candle.

One must just take care of the flame to see it grow.

Time after time, Lilia would find you, his spirit drawn towards yours.

I love you.

Never really said, but it would end in the same way. Him quietly loving you from the sidelines until he found his opening. An opening into your life, and your heart.

~~~~~~~

Taglist; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @moonsoup01637 @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

#dove does events #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #i tried my best and i hope you like the direction i took it in #lilia why are you giving me issues? LET ME WRITE YOU YOU SILLY MAN! *lilia proceeds to fly away chuckling*#gilf enjoyers rejoice!#i always struggle with tags since i only want to tag relevant stuff; the rest is just ramblings or easter eggs #i need to start writing again; yeash #adding to my masterlist in a bit; have some things i need to do #please ignore most of the tags; i don't know what i'm doing half the time in them

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

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Alright, the busy storm of the holiday season is behind us, so I should be able to write now!

#dove rambles #i'm going to start writing the rest of the event; but the timing will be a bit wack #come on brain; write for me babey #only 9 of the slots were filled so i might write something for myself or ask a moot to pick a character and number

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

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TWST Charity - Donations for Palestine!

Hello everyone!

Thank you so much to everyone who has waited for this event to officially begin, and hello to all newcomers! To support Palestine, her refugees, and those who support Palestinian freedom and oppose genocide, we are hosting a fundraiser - donations to certain pro-Palestine charities in exchange for Twisted Wonderland fics and fanart!

This is legal and even abides by AO3 policies, for the record.

If you would like to donate and receive a commission of your choosing, please check out our donation form! Commissions do scale with donation size, so if you can donate a larger sum, you will receive more! However, if you donate a million $1 donations to try and receive a million fics, you will be limited in how many you receive.

Please, reblog and share as much as you can, and continue speaking out for the freedom and peace of Palestine. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

#free palestine #twisted wonderland #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #twst #twst charity drive #we're live babey!!!!

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

Note

ohhh for the event can I get Vil and prompt 3 with reader as the ghost? ^_^

Words Unsaid; Vil Schoenheit

Content; Gender-neutral reader, angst, pining

Content Warning; Reader death (not described)

Word Count; 700+

A/N; Hi Haru! ... I decided to lean more into angst; I am so sorry Vil.

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Vil’s hands were shaking, and he tried to make a sound but his voice was caught in his throat.

His breath came out in white puffs, the Pomefiore lounge had become freezing cold as the fire died out. Dim light from the filtered moonlight cast everything in silver and greys. Long shadows crept across the floor like they were reaching out for him.

Vil.

It was barely audible, but Vil could hear the gentle hiss of his own name whispered into his ear, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He took in a deep breath though, trying to calm his racing heart which betrayed how affected he was by his current circumstances.

He closed his eyes, shutting out everything else and focused solely on what he could hear. And with how on edge he was, he could have heard a pin drop. But he didn’t hear anything. That was the issue, alongside everything else.

Normally he would have been able to hear the muffled snoring of his fellow dorm members, or the gentle ticking of the clock, or even the standard sounds that an older building may make. But he heard nothing. Only the steady thump thump of his heart in his ears.

Vil opened his eyes again, and he stared at the figure that was now standing within arm’s reach of him.

It was you, but not as Vil knew you.

You floated closer towards him, and Vil dared not to move.

Ghost, spectre, phantom. That was what you now were.

But he had seen you that very day. Still very much alive. Still breathing.

“What happened,” he whispered, taking a step forward, trying to close the distance.

You moved back, and looked him in the eyes as tears fell down your cheeks. And then you vanished, the fire coming back to life, and all the sounds coming back.

Vil raked his hands through his hair, trying to come to some reasonable answer for why you were here, why you were a ghost. And he found himself running as fast as his legs would carry him, coming to a halt at Ramshackle.

He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again and called your name. But all he was answered with was silence, and a sense of dread taking hold.

Please forgive me.

He knocked the door down with his magic, and made his way into the house. Vil looked in every room of the mansion, but all he found was dust; even Grim was nowhere to be seen.

This is a nightmare— No it isn’t, you know that. But how he wanted this to be nothing more than just a simple nightmare. If only it were as easy as that.

His breath came out in white puffs again, and everything stilled like time itself was frozen.

“Please,” Vil could barely recognize his own voice, desperation was something he was not well acquainted with, “tell me.”

You stayed out of sight though and stared at Vil, wanting nothing more than to embrace him. To feel his warmth one more time. To tell him something that had been weighing heavy on your chest for months.

You never had the chance, always being pulled in every which way or dealing with one problem or another. And now?

… it would not serve either of you any good. It would only cause more heartbreak, a tragedy that belonged in a play really, instead of reality.

Vil clenched his fist and rolled back his shoulders, “You’re still here, so you have something left that must be important. Let me help you.”

Something left, was in fact, someone.

Vil had always been outside of your reach, a star high up in the sky, and that distance was now further than ever.

That’s why you said nothing of your own feelings about him.

That’s why you said nothing, leaving the words unsaid.

“You can’t. Please, forget about me.”

Vil wouldn’t forget you. He would never forget about you, the person that he could be his entire self around.

Perhaps it was friendship, but something that screamed from his chest that it wasn’t.

And he would never get the chance to see what could be.

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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @ithseem @moonsoup01637 @lucid-stories @syrenkitsune @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

#dove does events #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit angst #i keep on putting vil in situations and I DON'T KNOW WHY #i swear vil you will get more fluffy stuff in the future... eventually #will all of these be angst? stay tuned until next time!#... which probably won't be until ...thursday because i'm working #yeah this event will be going on for a while #haru!

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

Text

One slot is still available for the event!

#dove rambles

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 5 months

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Prompt 7 with Malleus? And the reader as the ghost? 😳

Visions of the Past; Malleus Draconia

Content; Gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort, pining left unresolved

Content Warning; Reader death (not heavily described)

Word Count; 700+

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Time heals all wounds. But Malleus knew that wasn’t true. Yes, time may heal physical wounds, although not always perfectly, but it no longer weeps or festers. Whereas emotional wounds, such as trauma, grief, and anger do not fade or heal in the same manner as a cut would.

Malleus was standing outside the entrance of Ramshackle, once his nightly walking grounds turned to the home of the first person that befriended him for him. The first person who didn’t know or care, even after finding out about his identity, that he was the Malleus Draconia. A magicless human who treated him as they did with others, but with a tad bit more ease, humour, and kindness since they were friends.

Were friends.

His heart knew though that you weren’t just friends. He had felt this emotion before to some extent with his passion for gargoyles, but they paled in comparison to you.

Your brightness. Your laugh. Your little mannerisms that most wouldn’t pay attention to, but he did.

“Do you think we’ll still be friends when we’re older,” you mused while on one of your nightly walks with Malleus. Malleus furrowed his brow and looked at you quizzically, “Why wouldn’t we be? I have no intention of not being in your life.” You had stopped moving forward and Malleus came to a stop beside you. “Well, I don’t know. You’re a prince, future king, and you might get swapped in royal business and duties…” You pursed your lips, an unpleasant taste in your mouth. “And isn’t that more important?” “Do you not like spending time with me?” Malleus’ voice was more sharp, on edge. “NO!” You shouted, the word echoing a bit in the quiet night. “I like spending time with you. I love it!” Malleus looked at you with confusion, and if he were looking at anyone else the way he had been in the past minute, they would have been grovelling, asking for forgiveness. But not you. “Then why did you bring it up in the first place? Should there not be time, I will simply make it,” he said quietly. A small smile and chuckle replaced the irritated look of moments prior, “I will even make it ‘royal business’ as you put it.” You cough-laughed at his statement, but you only laughed harder when you looked at him to see a baffled expression. Malleus chuckled lightly, joining your amusement, even though he didn’t understand what was so funny that had you tearing up. You let out a long sigh, recollecting yourself. “Well, I’ll be there then, promise.”

And you had held that promise. Despite both of your hectic lives, you both met at least twice a month. If neither of you had the time? Well, Malleus would just show up outside your place, like old times, and you would both go about the property. Sometimes talking away, and other times in silence, just happy to be next to each other again.

Malleus knew he liked you, loved you even — the way he felt more like himself when he was around you, and a tinge of jealousy made that distinction clear — and he was planning on asking you if you felt the same.

But he didn’t have the chance.

He would never have the chance.

He knew that he wouldn’t have many years with you, but he had planned that it was old age that took you away from him.

Ramshackle had not changed, but Malleus could still smell the scent of soot, even after all of these years. The foyer stopped, and Malleus looked into the gloom of the burnt ruins.

“ … do you remember our promise?”

He had been coming here, once a fortnight, asking the same question and hoping for an answer. Every time all he ever received was the sound of rotting wood and the scampering of mice.

He took in a breath and was ready to leave, to go back to his duties, but he stopped.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He couldn’t see you, but you were here. And that was all that mattered to Malleus. That although you may not physically be here anymore, he had not lost you.

Time may heal all wounds, but Malleus didn’t want this wound to heal. He didn’t want to lose you, not again.

. . .

A/N; Hope you enjoyed what I came up with for this combination! And *hands you an emotional dragon fae that misses you*

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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @keii-starz @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @syrenkitsune @the-v-lociraptor @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

#dove does events #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x gn reader #cw reader death #a sudden death he would not heal well with #like it would eat at him for years #but didn't want this being too angsty #ithseem!#finally got some time to write this; yippee!!!!

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