#(fae is my other half and she is incredible)

[pit-and-the-pen]

Hi! I am so grateful you came across my feed! You also have an incredibly extensive prompt list which is amazing btw. Could I please get a 104 and 75 with Azriel?? I have been wanting to see how they would do with a fairy, considering they are like the opposite of a bat. They’re light and airy, gorgeous wings. Illyrian wings are gorgeous too but in a dark way and I think the contrast is cool without having to make them an angel. Ya know? Thank you if you end up doing it!

Thank you so much and thank you for the request! My prompt list is left over from an event I did when I hit 100 followers and I just kept adding to it. I love the idea of the difference in their wings. Because the books have already explored a few different types of wings and I think fairy wings are absolutely gorgeous.

The reader is half High Fae, half fairy.

Hope you like it! <3

Warning: Unwelcome touching (not by Azriel), Smut (18+), protective Az!!!!

WC: ~1.7k

Divider by @cafekitsune

My  wings had always been something I was immensely proud of, sure they weren’t the stark white feathered covered ones from Day or the gorgeous bat-like wings from the Illyrains but you loved them. Translucent but pink iridescent, the membrane golden in color. Compared to my stature, short by fae standards, they easily were half of my height. 

When I moved from the Spring Court to Night, I remember feeling slightly self-conscious about them. Before the mating bond had snapped, Azriel had spent many nights reassuring me how beautiful he thought they were. How they made me special. I would sniffle into his neck, “But they let everyone know I’m only half High Fae.” He would hold my head in his hands and try not to laugh at the absurd concern. “So is Rhys, so is Cassian. Most High Fae are. That’s not a bad thing.” Light kisses were pressed to my face, “If anything it makes you more special. Something no other High Fae has.” His words calmed my raging mind. Once the mating bond had snapped, he really began to worship them. He was the first person I had let touch them. The both of us learned they truly were as sensitive as his own. It became something he could tease me with, only in the privacy of our bedroom. One touch and I would melt into his touch. 

Now, I stood in the middle of the throne room at Hewn City. Dress in midnight blue, the same exact shade as my mates siphons. The floor length gown is skin tight and the velvet was smooth under my fingers as I tried to smooth it out. 

I fidgeted slightly out of nerves. I had refused the first time Rhys offered to glamour them away, they were too much a part of who I was for me to hide them even in this vile place. But I still felt very exposed around this many unfamiliar faces.

Azriel had stepped away to join the conversation Rhys was currently having with Keir. Placing a small kiss on my temple as he walked away, “Have fun, sweetheart.” I instantly started looking for Mor, desperate for some semblance of comfort.   

I found her on the dance floor. I gave her a low bow, hand extended which she returned with a perfect curtsey. I took her hand and we began to weave through the other couples as we waltzed around the ballroom, her head thrown back with laughter. 

A pair of hands on my hips swept me out of her grasp. I let out a startled cry, expecting to be met with my favorite pair of hazel eyes. The male that had grabbed me was certainly not Azriel nor anyone I noticed. I could smell the faerie wine on his breath as he spoke in my ear, “What pretty wings.” I thanked him, my voice getting stuck like gum in my throat. I tried to pull the unknown male's hands off of my hips, even to just push them up to my waist but he just dug his hands in tighter. I yelped at the pressure and he just gave me a cocky smirk. 

“I know how sensitive Illyrian wings are, and given the shadowslingers scent all over you, I bet you do too,” He laughed at my shocked expression, “I wonder if these are just as sensitive.” By this time, we had stopped dancing. I stood frozen, bile turned my stomach as he reached a grimy hand up to stroke the edge of my wings. His rough touch made me chirp in pain, he had pitched the fragile membrane between his nails and dragged them down. 

He went to repeat the motion again when I felt the heat of him disappear entirely. When I looked around for him, I saw large black wings in front of my face. The male that had been touching me was pinned to the dance floor. Azriel’s heavy boots, holding him there by his neck. The male was desperately clutching at his leg, trying to pull him off. Azriel scoffed.

“Doesn’t feel so good to have someone touch you when you don’t want them to?” He pressed down a little harder, the muscles twitching in his leg. 

“Now, if you ever think about touching my mate, or anyone else, without their expressed interest,” His hand went to rest on truth-teller’s hilt. “You will find yourself without hands.” He lifted his leg off the male's neck and didn’t spare him a glance as he grabbed my hand and started leading me out of the ballroom. 

People jumped out of our way and I didn’t even think of saying anything to him as I felt his fury down the bond. Not at me, never at me. But for not being there to stop the hands I could still feel on my wings. He pulled us into a room, no, a closet, and I could almost make out the shape of him from the light that snuck along the frame. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asked sternly. Fae Lights flickered on, giving the room a soft glow. I shook my head and he let out a heavy exhale. He placed his forehead against mine and we just stood there as both of our breathing evened out

“Az, you didn’t have to do all of that.” I finally spoke blushing, the dim lights of the room doing nothing to protect me from his gaze.

“You don’t understand, I will do anything to protect you.” The solemnity of those words made my heart lurch and heat pool in my stomach. 

“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on.” His laugh echoed in his chest. 

“Look at my dirty girl,” He started kissing down my neck, “Does seeing me defend you turn you on?” I whimpered when his tongue started following his kisses. 

“I don’t know, you’re the one that dragged me into a literal closet.” He growled lightly. 

“Be nice, sweet girl.” Chiding me, I felt desire and defiance flood my veins. 

“Bite me.”

 “With pleasure.” He all but purred in my ear and he was on me. His lips captured mine. Teeth captured my lower lip when I moaned into his mouth. His tongue explored my mouth, brushing against the roof of my mouth and my legs turned into jelly. He hiked my leg up to rest on his waist, using the hand on my back to stabilize me. Trailing up my leg with his free hand. 

“Fuck” He groaned when he reached the center of my thighs. Blood flowed to my cheeks. I was soaked. He didn’t waste anymore time before he slipped my panties to the side. I cried out as deft fingers found my clit and started rubbing tight, fast circles. 

My hands started to trail down to reach for his waistband but his shadows pinned my arms to my side. 

“Let me make you feel good, my love.” I moaned at his words. My moans instantly broke into a scream as I felt two of his fingers plunge into me. He curled against the rough spot and I panted out his name.  

“Az…Please, I need more.” I begged him. He just started to kiss my neck again, sucking what I knew would be angry bruises. His kisses started to trail lower, his shadows once again helping him as they slid the top of my dress down to expose my breasts. My hands went to his hair as he wrapped his lips around my nipple. Sucking the perfect amount of pressure, mixed with his fingers pistoning in and out of me. I felt myself fall apart under him. My climax racked through me hard, I sagged against his hand still on my back. 

“There you go. Good girl.” He praised me. I expected his hand to pull away but he kept working me through waves of pleasure. I whined, “Too much. Az.” I panted out the words, chest quickly rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. 

“Can you give me one more?” His kisses started trailing lower and he unwrapped my leg from his waist. I was going to say something but it got lost on my tongue as he started to sink to his knees. He began to trail kisses up my leg as he went to throw my foot over his shoulder. 

He placed one of my hands on his head, my fingers instantly grabbing his soft locks. 

“Hold on princess.” Was the only warning I received before he dove in between my legs. I mewled at the pressure his lips sucked around my clit, still sensitive from my last orgasm. Broken versions of his name left my mouth and I tried to stop my hips from bucking. He used his free hand to guide my hips, letting me ride his face. It didn’t take long for him to have me at the edge. My eyes squeezed shut, white spotting the black behind my eyelids as he gave my clit a soft nip. That was enough to have my orgasm crashing over me. This time, my knees did buckle out from under me but Azriel’s hands were there instantly to hold me up. 

I blinked up at him. He was the picture of male satisfaction as he took in my glassy eyes. I once again went to reach for his pants but he pushed my hands away with a chuckle. 

“Later. I promise.” He said when I pouted at him. “Two isn’t enough for you, sweet girl?” I shook my head and he really laughed at that. He stood back up and smoothed out the lines in his suit. He helped me adjust my dress back into place. My hair was a lost cause, as well as my smudged makeup. He pressed a bruising kiss to my lips and when he pulled away he whispered in my ear

“Now we’re going to go back out there, covered in your scent and maybe that will remind people just exactly who they’re messing with from now on.”

#acomaf #acosf #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acowar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel spymaster #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #requested #protective azriel

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

You should post the full screenshots, in light of everything that has happened. Not to start drama, but people should know who not to continue having a relationship with on here and block. The community feels so unsafe now that we know anyone you are talking to could be laughing at you on discord or doxxing you on social media. I only come to tumblr for the hotd fandom and it just seems to get worse here every month.

Hello, anon.

I was going to let this lie, truly I was. I was reached out to by the person behind the comments made approximately half an hour after posting, an exchange in which I was gaslighted and levied with implied threats in a style I am very much familiar with from this person. I did, however, state that I would not escalate matters without provocation. Learning about past events, while upsetting, is not a new provocation.

That has changed upon learning that my good friend Ange, @ewanmitchellcrumbs, has been receiving screenshots of specific things these users have been saying in a group chat with originally six members, now five, via burner accounts. Presumably, this is the efforts of one/two members trying to deflect from what Ange has learned about @rafeism's doxxing efforts by suggesting it was another member in the group responsible. And in the last hour, burner accounts have been attempting to share very obviously doctored screenshots attempting to assign mean-spirited comments about other writers in the community to Ange. I believe this is the work of one or both of the original two people I called out in this post, and I strongly suspect that my answering this ask will invite continued instances of this behaviour or even a direct public post incorporating edited screenshots to defame us and divert from accountability. And finally, I was informed via anon that a lawyer would come after me on the basis of lies and misrepresentation, which is a direct threat and something I will not abide.

I said I was going to expose it all if I learned of any fresh fuckery. And alas, I have. This was asked for, and now my hands are tied.

My original post was about Bel, otherwise known as @succnfuccubus or @valeskafics, and Fae, @eyelinerandcigarettes or @barbiedragon, both of whom have been historically prominent figures in the House of the Dragon fanfiction community on Tumblr.

In July of last year, Bel made a commentary post criticising fanfiction writers who did not write anal intercourse with an appropriate amount of attention paid to preparation. This was perceived to be an attack against another fanfiction writer with whom she had noted enmity at the time, @arcielee, who had written a fanfiction work that arguably did or did not meet this criteria. I do not know and cannot claim expertise on this, as @arcielee and I have mutually blocked each other some time ago. What I do know is that several of @arcielee's mutuals observed the possibility that Bel's post was about this fic; the user Cal, @bucknastysbabe or @bnb-atnite, despite having had absolutely no prior connection to Bel, decided to call her out in a public post for it. Ange, with no context other than thinking a mutual of hers (Bel) had been targeted by this user, defended Bel, believing at the time that the post was not aimed at this writer or at any specific writer she was aware of.

This prompted Cal to divert her attention from Bel and turn it toward Ange, claiming that she had been told by "dozens of people" that Ange was quote-unquote toxic and abusive, claiming to have screenshots of this though she never shared proof, and essentially spending a good several hours (the specificity of which I can no longer recall, though it was certainly over the span of 24+ hours) responding to asks that 'came forward' with incredibly inappropriate commentary about Ange's personal life and friendships under the guise of "exposing her", without however actually committing to concrete proof beyond this. I will note that several of these posts discussed the nature of Ange's marriage to her husband and outright stated that Ange was parasocially fixated on Ewan Mitchell, without proof of this. I was a peripheral target of this, though it was clear the issue was with Ange specifically. This seemed to be the efforts of a few isolated users with personal grudges against her, masquerading as anonymous users to create the perception that this toxicity was widespread. I still do not know what prompted this explosive behaviour, and have absolutely no interest in hearing from this user directly to find out.

All in all, this served to bring Bel, Ange and I together, and we created a group chat on Discord on the 26th of July 2023 so that we could discuss the effects of this effort.

Fae was added a day later, as a close friend of Bel's and an ongoing mutual of both mine and Ange. Fae had previously had a conflict with another user named Shruie over her perception that Shruie had borrowed elements of her story writing to create her own works. Shruie received hate over this, which Fae had previously stated to me was not her work. Shruie went to Cal's blog, submitted an ask publicly slandering her and us by association, and thus it was decided that Fae would join the group too.

This group originally revolved around venting over the ongoing effects of Cal's decision to publicly slander us, and the fallout of this. We received a few hate anons and several people unfollowed or distanced themselves from us all because of it, and we were all understandably angry and upset about this. This anger is justified, and I absolutely still maintain that.

However, I and others in the writing community learned that Shruie had received a number of anons with racist connotations, specifically that she had been called a 'paki' and sent rat emojis. I still am not aware of the culprit behind the 'paki' anon, but Bel herself admitted to sending the rat emojis to Shruie:

I would like to note that Fae reacted to this with the react.

I did not call this out. I should have. But given that Bel was capable of this, the idea of addressing her behaviour directly made me nervous, and so I ignored this revelation and tried to cling to the hope that if I concentrated on building closer friendships with these two women, the hate Cal was levying would die down. Eventually, it did.

However, the vitriol these two women would participate in over the course of the months we identified as 'friends' was nothing short of ugly. They did not want to speak about writing-related topics at all; the entirety of their conversation revolved around making inappropriate and at times downright nasty comments about other writers in the community, many of whom I was completely unaware of. A great deal of the time, I would ask who someone was, as I did not know them at all. Other times, I would 'lol' at a comment to further the conversation along, and I will admit to also participating in some unkind venting about people I feel had been unfair to myself or to Ange. I have already reached out to these people specifically and apologised for this behaviour, as it does not reflect who I am as a person.

Further complicating things, Bel shared the private details of a user whom we had all blocked due to her association with Cal, including the sharing of her full legal name and her private social media account. I have screenshotted this and redacted heavily as evidence it exists, but I do not wish for this information to be known public. I have already initiated conversations privately with this person to provide them evidence.

I need to be clear. This is a crime. The ONLY fortunate thing about this matter is that this information was shared specifically to Ange, Fae and I, and Ange nor I are the type of person to have acted upon the sharing of this information. To this user, I am sorry I did not reach out before now. I am sorry that I allowed our previous longstanding enmity to fuel my inaction. To this user, I promise that my knowledge of your real name or social media presence will not be revealed to anyone. I have not shared this information in any way whatsoever, though you are already aware I have spoken to a close friend of yours and asked them to pass the bare facts forward to you.

Even worse, Bel has also shared this person's image and mocked her physical appearance, which again I have a redacted screenshot of:

During the months in which I was friends with Bel and Fae, I was influenced to believe in several untruths. First of all, Ange and I were informed by Bel that a user we shall call E had deliberately chosen to speed-write a fanfiction work about Ettore in order to post it before Ange could finish her Ettore series as a means to 'drown out' her update. This fact had originally made Ange upset enough to complain without naming E directly in my public Discord server, something which spurred E to receive numerous hate anons and spark the conflict that I currently believe eventually spiralled into Cal's decision to publicly slander us. I requested evidence of this from Bel while I was writing a public post about it, so I could attach evidence. I should have known that her inability to provide it was a problem.

I was influenced to believe that another user, @targaryen-dynasty, had created her server as a means to spread inappropriate rumours about me and Ange to her mutuals. I created a falsified Discord account and joined her server to see if this fact was true; when I failed to find evidence of this after a period of time, I exited the server. I have already apologised to Laura for this, and freely admit it was stupid of me to do so. She has not engaged in inappropriate commentary about me on her server and I am happy to publicly share this. We have mended bridges, and moved on. I have also apologised to Sam, @randomdragonfires, for being unkind about her in response to Fae's upset that she had written a Daemon fanfiction work. There are many people I have been unkind about that I earnestly wish I had not been, and I have done my best to apologise for these things.

What I have not done is engage in the following.

I have a number of screenshots wherein these two women admit to sending anonymous hate messages to various users. I have reached out to who I can to provide them unredacted versions, but I will be redacting names for privacy reasons. These are throughout and as I have a photo limit, I cannot provide every single one. Here is an example:

I wish to also share the further evidence I have of racial escalations from these two women against a writer of German heritage. I have reached out to this user to share directly, but will redact the name for privacy reasons.

There are numerous instances of further hate to many, many writers. To those of you who suspect you may have had comments made about you, I invite you to reach out to me in private if you wish to know exactly what has been said. To those of you who I have already informed, I am deeply sorry I allowed myself to be silent.

Over the course of this 'friendship', I began to pull away from the internet. I barely interacted online, even with Ange, who is one of my absolute best friends on here. I did not write at all. I couldn't. I was paranoid, anxious, full of anger and fear. I was ruined. Fandom was ruined. These women ruined me. I watched on from a distance as Ange began to grow distant with Fae and Bel in the group chat, as it had been MONTHS and they were still behaving in the exact same angry, bitter way they had when they first joined the group chat. Ange grew increasingly frustrated because Bel had commenced a pattern of using Ange's content to heavily inspire her own.

It all came to a head when Bel learned that her 'enemies', Jo and Karina, had unblocked E and @arcielee and mended bridges. She decided to do the same, and in doing so apparently informed E that Ange was at fault for any and all conflict that had occurred, and I presume any and all hate anons that had been sent to E. Ange learned this because E reached out to her and sent a barrage of furious messages telling her that Bel had 'told her the truth', which Ange was completely bewildered by. Here is the exchange that effectively ended the group chat:

You will note that Bel's story is different here. I do not have screenshots verifying what Bel specifically told Ange the conversation was about, as it was a private conversation. If Ange wishes to add to this and bring this conversation up specifically, she is invited to do so.

Not long after this, seeing little point, I ejected Fae from the group and decided to leave it for the time being. You see, after learning this last fact as above, I had a very unfortunate suspicion that things were going to turn sour for us. I was right, and boy am I glad I have the evidence to dismantle the lies that have been told about us.

For a time, we existed in limbo. Bel and Fae and Ange and I had a series of lukewarm interactions that were largely brief in nature. I think we all knew that the friendship was about to come to an end. 

Then, Ange reblogged an opinion post about her dislike of the bimbo trope being used for Michael Gavey fics, believing many examples of this to be an incorrect and wildly offensive representation of what writers thought was the ‘bimbo’ trope. This prompted Cal to go on another rampage, ugly and public, and one I will not post screenshots of because let’s face it, everyone is aware that it occurred. I do have them, though. I can provide them if anyone insists. She spent further time calling Ange out for being ‘toxic’, eventually having it die down when her posts failed to gain much attention. I did hit out at a few of her mutuals who tried to claim for some reason that Ange was a racist (?) because she expressed worry about Ewan attending a Con, and hoped his fans wouldn’t behave inappropriately to him. I digress. Irrelevant. The result of this all was that Bel, without warning or notice, reached out to Cal to ‘make amends’, despite having gone through all the above. Despite the fact that she was supposedly friends with Ange, who had had her marriage, her life mocked and insulted by this woman. Over what? A perception that Ange was insulting her for her love of the bimbo trope. 

Ange told Bel directly that she wasn’t a fan of it but that she didn’t care either way that Bel wrote it if it made her happy, and Bel told her this was fine. Bel choosing to befriend Cal was something Ange and I felt was a massive, massive betrayal. We blocked Bel, and we moved on.

This was one of my final interactions with Fae:

I ended up blocking Fae because I learned she unfollowed me, and I presumed it was because of her friendship with Bel. I knew what Fae was like, didn’t want her to have access to my anon inbox, and so I blocked. For a very brief time, things were somewhat approaching peaceful. Until I started learning that people I barely associated with were being targeted. I learned that @marthawrites had been blocked by Chris and from her, that Bel/Fae/Cal/Chris had made reference to a quote-unquote “frightening degree of hatred” for me and Ange. From her, I also learned that Bel evidently had a burner she used to “camp out” on my blog and make screenshots of everything I said so she could mock it in her group chat. She did the same to Ange. I received a number of strange or unkind anons during this period, and so I can only speculate as to the person involved. I also learned that Bel has a habit of calling me “pedo” or “Pedo Em”, which I can only assume has something to do with the fact that my main character in my fanfiction is 17 when she is married. In A Song of Ice and Fire, this is tame.

I was deeply upset to learn this, and I made a vague-post. Within hours, I received the anon from this post, prompting me to respond in the manner I did. See, me being called a pedo is not a widely-circulated insult from my knowledge. It had to have been Bel to send it. Interestingly enough, she reached out to me not even an hour after my post went up, claiming she’d been sent a screenshot of it. I don’t believe this. Here is the exchange:

What surprised me most was when a formerly incredibly staunch friend of Cal and Chris, and Bel and Fae by association, reached out to me via a different account before completely deactivating. She grew tired of the relentless hatred circulated in the group chat she previously shared with them, and left. This prompted the entire group to block her, only after Chris called her names and Cal had what was described to me as an “absolutely psychotic” rant at her. She is struggling. She was very close friends with them, and despite having engaged peripherally in the commentary they have circulated against me and Ange for a while, I cannot hold it in my heart to be angry with her for believing lies her friends have told her. She has told me that they would repeatedly mock me and Ange, constantly trash-talked about us for months, make claims of all manner of insane things, and yet never provide a SINGLE instance of proof for this.

I would like to now provide clarification for some of the specific rumours that this former mutual informed me have been spread around about me and Ange.

Ange and I are racists who told Bel off for wanting to write Bollywood HOTD fanfiction. This is categorically untrue: see this screenshot for proof that this was never mentioned.

Ange and I bullied Fae whenever she mentioned getting her treatments for her condition (which, by the way, she has discussed online and is therefore ALSO not doxxing). See the screenshots for proof that Fae has never once mentioned it. There are specific phrases that can be searched for also, but because she has not been specific about her illness online I will not disclose the nature of this.

I have made nasty comments about Chris’s child. See the screenshot below for evidence that it is in fact Bel who called the child “a little fucker”, among other things.

Ange and I have doxxed people. See…… all the above as proof we have not. This was likely a pre-emptive deflection, and I am disappointed but not surprised by it.

That I have sent hate anons to the group, which they claimed was verifiable through their 'hacker' mutual. However, the former mutual of theirs that reached out to me has sought professional feedback about this claim, and it has been concluded that the so-called hacker was "right-clicking on page analytics" in a manner that cannot possibly reveal the identity of the anon-er. Furthermore, I didn't. They have been blocked by me.

I am responsible for @emilykaldwen blocking Cal and others. See this exchange wherein Nat informs me she already had Cal blocked. As for the accusations of a block list, this is categorically untrue. I have no screenshots to share because there are no screenshots at all. Because I did not do this.

I don’t know at this stage what else has been said. If anyone has anything further they’d want clarification for, I’m sure I could find evidence to disprove it. There are further statements that are wholly untrue that, as I do not believe they have been disclosed by any party in public, I will not share here.

None of this should have happened. None of this should have happened. How DARE you all. You have spent FAR too long abusing this fandom for your own sick, selfish amusement, and I am done. Nothing that has ever happened here was begun by either myself or Ange, and the fact that even NOW you are all attempting to redirect the blame on us or even on each OTHER is truly, truly shameful. I have owned up to the part I have played. I have apologised to the people who I have hurt, whether they had known I did it or not. That alone makes me better than you will ever be, because even now, you fail to take accountability for the full scope of what you have done. You have minimised, redirected, falsified and manipulated everyone because you do not know how to admit you were wrong without taking whatever opportunity you can to get 'the last dig' in.

What was the purpose, ladies? What is possibly going on in your life that being so angry, so hateful filled you with so much joy? Now, you’ve gone past the point of no return. You cannot come back from this. You cannot deflect from this. I’m sure you’re going to try to, maybe even to come up with “evidence” that none of this is true. You’ll lie, you’ll scramble, and you will not apologise, I’m sure. You should. Do you understand how far past the line you have crossed? Do you understand that we are actual, real people? This isn’t a game where you’re making sport out of upsetting a bunch of pixels. Ange is a journalist. I am a teacher. We are adults with full time jobs and full time lives and full time human experiences, and you have done your absolute level best to destroy us. I don’t understand why. I don’t understand how you could do this to another person. I don’t know what to do to make you stop. Do I need to deactivate? What do I need to do? You have terrified me beyond belief. I am so, so afraid of you. Does that make you happy?

I’m just speechless.

And to those of you still—STILL—clinging to supporting these women… You’re either stupid or just as horrible. The fact that people on "all sides" of this fandom have reached out to me and cleared the air should be telling enough, but I cannot change what you refuse to accept. I really don’t know what your problem is with us. With me. We’ve been holed up doing nothing for months, and that STILL wasn’t enough for you. This isn’t a game. This isn’t something you can win. This is real life, and you are making people suffer. For fucking fanfiction.

I am open to letting bygones be bygones if you genuinely didn’t know any of the above information. However, to the four of you—Bel, Fae, Chris, Cal—I do not wish you kindness. I do not wish you empathy. I do not wish for anything at all but for you to leave us alone, finally. You have burned just about every bridge possible, and the only people at fault are you. If you attempt to ‘reconcile’, your burners will be reported. If you attempt to further slander us, your posts will be reported. We are in the process of figuring out what legal recourse there is, because this has gone beyond ‘mean’ and straight to cyberstalking and criminal offence. I want you to take a good, long think about why on earth you ever thought any of this behaviour was okay. And then, I want you to stop. Stop. No one’s safety is worth your ego on Tumblr.com.

To everyone else. Please don’t get involved. Do not send any anons, any messages, any vitriol to these women. Let them reflect in peace and silence. Or let them bang at the walls of the prison of their own making. Let them lie to themselves as much as they wish.

I don’t know what to do anymore. But if anyone does have a similar story to tell about these women, please reblog this and share it. It'd be nice to know I'm not alone.

#hotd fandom drama #hotd writers #hotd writing community

[toxiccrybabyart]

Skeles as humans but with all my headcanons and design choices

Because in my eyes they’re all queer as fuck and no one can take that from me

Ink is nonbinary, uses any pronouns, is aroace and from Filipino decent. They’re a tattoo artist, though his own tattoos are actually just henna. They like to do henna at the local ren fair when it’s open. He also does art commissions on the side, when they’re not prepping for various tattoo gigs.

Blue is a cis guy, uses he/him pronouns, is bisexual, and half Hawaiian half Puerto Rican.

Dream is a trans man, uses he/him pronouns, is pansexual, and from Scottish and fae decent. He likes to garden and do photography. He’s currently a free lance photographer.

Error is a cis guy, uses he/they pronouns, is demiromantic and demisexual, and a black American. Despite his rather closed off and almost rude nature, he finds that he enjoys streaming, and has a decent following. He also enjoys crocheting, and sometimes just streams himself crocheting while talking with chat. He brings string alone with him in his coat pocket, and weaves it between his fingers when he’s overwhelmed.

Cross is a cis guy, uses he/him pronouns, is bisexual, and Dominican Puerto Rican. He works as security for Nightmare, though Nightmare technically doesn’t need it, but he has the money and it makes Cross feel better to make sure he’s okay.

Nightmare is genderfluid, uses he/she/they pronouns (in preference order), is queer, and is of Scottish and fae decent. He is also a natural red head like Dream, but dyes his hair black. He’s embarrassed of the red color, which is silly because he looks lovely with red hair. She’s a gothic model, mostly encouraged into it by Dream, but she secretly loves the positive attention.

Dust is a cis guy, uses any pronouns, is pan, and is a mixed black American. He’s incredibly closed off and is pretty paranoid. She gets the shakes pretty bad, especially in her hands. They’re rather cold. But around his two other friends he lightens up a little bit.

Horror is a cis guy, uses he/him pronouns, is bisexual, and a white American. He tries to be friendly and approachable despite his own issues he’s working through. He’s got a few memories issues and a thing about food, but he’s a great friend, and his friends will kill you if you even imply otherwise.

Killer is gender queer, uses he/they pronouns, is omnisexual, and is a mixed Korean American. He comes across as just a chill relaxed guy despite his morbid sense of humor. Though he’s got issues, you’ll be hard pressed to learn of them unless you’re close to him.

#undertale #utmv #utmv sans #human sans #ink #human ink #human blue #human dream sans #swap sans #dream sans #nightmare sans #human nightmare sans #error #error sans #human error #cross #human cross sans #dust sans #human dust sans #human swap sans #human horror sans #human killer sans #killer sans #human au

[azsazz]

Bloody Knuckles and the Songs of Death

Azriel x Reader

Summary: This lovely piece stemmed from me thinking about how SJM describes Azriel’s voice in the High Lord meeting as “cold death.” It got me thinking that if he’s cold death what if reader is warm death? She is the last hug someone receives before their soul is entrapped in death’s icy snare. She’s the last breath exiting someone’s lungs, the heat of the final exhale passing through their parted lips. She’s the heat of their blood as it spills through split skin and that warm hand cradling their hands as they bleed out.

Reader is everything that Azriel is not. Opposite feelings but equal death in the end.

AKA: Half a rewrite of chapters 43-47 of ACOWAR where reader is now there as part of the Autumn Court, excited to meet Azriel. The other half are my own ideas.

Warnings: Major themes of death, ACOWAR spoilers, blood, gore, mentions of abuse, smut.

Word Count: 1,987

Notes: Sorry about the long summary, but I felt it was necessary to help understand where this came from before reading it. Yes, this will be multiple parts :)

_________________________________________

The Vanserras are late. Undoubtedly and uncaringly late.

You don’t see why it matters, anyway. You certainly aren’t one to concern yourself with matters involved in other courts unless you’re asked. But when Eris had come to you with a request on behalf of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, to tag along to some High Lord’s meeting – the first in nearly three centuries – you could hardly contain the feral grin threatening to carve your face in two.

For you it is a chance to play.

The Vanserra family is silent as you’re escorted through the lavish halls of the Dawn Court.

It’s incredible, what you’ve seen so far, glimpses from the windows of the High Lord’s palace. Your first time to the solar court, and you drink in everything that you can. The cobalt sky tinged by the rosy pinks and creamy oranges, the remnants of sunrise long into the day, the edges of the low hanging clouds gilded with golden light. Dewey freshness lingers in the air, lush with the evocative scents of rain in the countryside, the weight of the summer nearly upon it.

Inhaling deeply, your eyelashes flutter as you listen to the clatter in the meeting room as you approach, your senses nearly overwhelmed by all of the different scents winding together. There’s the one you’re most familiar with, the crisp wind and singed spices of Autumn, but as you part your lips to taste the other aromas in the air, you pick out the subtle tinges of the rival courts: sandalwood and coconut oil from the Summer Court, seawater and clean clothes billowing in the breeze from Day. The overpowering perfume of vanilla that coats your throat thickly followed by the melancholic neutral cold breath that stings your lungs is most definitely the Winter Court.

And of course, the intoxicating night-chilled mist wafting from the Night Court fae, who sit up straighter in their chairs when you enter the room following Beron, his wife, and his sons.

But even sweeter than that, underneath all of the niche and savory odors, is the scent of life.

You see they’ve brought a whole committee, the Night Court. Unsurprising for their High Lord, who always has one of his pets do his bidding for him, not a wrinkle to be had to be put into his pressed suit if he had to help it. Why get all messy when he could have someone do it for him?

You. That is who you are to the Vanserras. Someone to torture and kill for information, just like his spymaster, minus the protective shadows hovering over his shoulders like warped darkness that follows you around at night, always watching and always listening.

The difference is…is that you love death.

You are death…in a way.

Just like him, who sits next to the cocksure commander of armies, behind his Lord and–Lady, you now realize as you catch sight of their clasped hands, the gleaming ring settled snugly around Feyre’s left ring finger, a matching one on Rhysand’s. 

Your gaze travels across them in an instant, and theirs over you. There’s a shift as they assess you, in line with Eris, following closely behind Beron and Amaretto. Perhaps they think you’re Eris’ mate. That would surely be something, you think. You can practically see the gears grinding in their minds as they scramble to figure out who you are, and you know it’s because no one has ever seen you before, Beron wouldn’t ever let someone close enough to recognize you. 

You recognize the familiar glazed look they get over their eyes when they speak into each other’s minds, and then there’s a caress of claws inside of your head, gentle at first, but a slash when it’s met with nothing but resistance, your walls reinforced over years of practice. It’s a warning, a scare tactic, but you are anything but intimidated by the Night Court High Lord and his comrades. 

You commit everything to memory in the quick once over you give, eyes eager to settle back upon the shadowisnger. The jeweled crown upon Feyre’s head, the female behind her with the near-matching facial structure. Lovely Mor is here, too, going stock still as her chocolatey gaze locks on Eris before she’s looking anywhere but.

Your mouth twitches into a wry smirk that the spymaster immediately zeroes in on, clenching his hands where they’re settled on his knees, his gaze fiery and his siphons flickering.

Azriel, the male who separates souls from bodies without so much as a grimace, a blink, a quiver to his perfectly straight lips.

He is breathtaking in more ways than one. The sharpness of his golden gaze as he glares at you from his seat, like he’s ready to wreak death upon you with those large, icy, massacred hands just itching to wrap around your warm throat, watch the light drain from your pretty eyes, the color empty from your lips, face, your body going slack in his grasp.

His wings. They look how you’d imagine an angel’s would, if they had betrayed the Mother and had been touched by flame, the delicate and purely white feathers singed and burnt from the skin and bones beneath, much like the pink and puckered scars adorning his fingers to his wrists.

The Reaper.

The Taker of Death.

But you are the Bringer of Death. The warmth of it all. The last hug one receives before the Reaper swoops their soul into his icy snare. You are the last breath exiting one’s lungs, the heat of that final exhale plating their parted lips. You’re the swelter of their blood as it spills through split skin and the burning one feels in their heart when they realize they’re in love and that searing in their stomachs when they feel sick.

You are everything that he is not. Opposites in feeling but equals in the end.

To you, death is a beautiful thing. Intriguing, evoking, fascinating. 

To Azriel, death is anything but. A finite solution to seek information. Routine and cold and inevitable and lonely.

The violence simmering off of the Night Court party as you enter through the archway is not new, their harsh stares a reminder that you need to be alert, on your game, not itching with intrigue about the male you’d heard so much about.

Autumn Court’s presence alone is enough to make the Peregryns feathers ruffle, the remaining sons sneering at the Court with the most strained ties. The Vanserra offspring are a rowdy bunch, you’ve known that for centuries, have often been on the other side of the leer Pyrolas sends to Cresseida, earning a flash of teeth in warning from Varian.

Beron doesn’t bother to check them. Perhaps he likes having most of the other courts dislike him, letting his kin do as they please like half-wild beasts.

But Eris cares, a sweet soul trapped in a tainted family, of that you know. He is the one you prefer, the most emotionally intelligent, even if only in private. Your best friend, the one you’d run to after a long day of working for his father, someone who understands and you trust with any secret, with your life.

“Enough,” Eris murmurs and his younger brothers finally fall into line. All three of them; Pyrolas, Oakland, and Foxe.

Beron stops halfway across the room, hands folded before him. Even from where you’re positioned behind you know that he’s scowling at the Night Court attendees like they’re a pack of mongrels.

He is the oldest here, and the most awful, something that you and all of the other Courts can agree on.

Rhysand greets the Vanserras smoothly, eyes drifting over you as if you aren’t even there, though you know that he’s seen a lot with that fluttering glance. His power is heavy in the air, a silent rumble that serves as a reminder of the magic coursing through his veins.

As if he’d ever let anyone forget it.

“It’s no surprise that you’re tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family.”

Beron’s lips curl slightly as he looks her over, at the onyx clad crown settled upon her head.

“Mate–and High Lady.”

You had to give it to Feyre. You’ve seen many balk from Beron’s hot stare more times than you can count, but she looks everything that Rhysand has just said, High Lady, as she sits in her chair as if she’s the one running all of the overinflated egos in the room, spine straight, chin high, and face neutral in the same way that Azriel’s is.

She turns her gaze to each of Beron’s sons. Eris smiles, amused and aloof before Feyre’s sharp gray eyes flicker to you.

If Eris is smiling, you’re practically glowing, eager to see where this meeting will go, if you’ll get to play or not. Your power thrums beneath your skin, a fervent buzz begging to be unleashed.

The red siphon-clad warrior watches Eris like a hawk studying its next meal. Eris deigns a glance at the Illyrian general and inclines his head in invitation, subtly patting his stomach. Ready for round two.

You stifle the urge to roll your eyes at your friend. He’d told you all about what had happened on that ice when he and his brothers were chasing the female they hadn’t known was the High Lady of the Night Court, animatedly telling you of the battle you wished you’d been there to witness, and grumbling through the parts of the story when the Illyrian had landed a hit on him as you dabbed at his wounds with a healing salve.

You’d even been there to hold him when he whispered so softly about his youngest brother that you were half sure he was delusional from blood loss or that you hadn’t even heard.

You cringe when Eris’ attention shifts to Mor, knowing all about what transpired between the two centuries ago. His caramel gaze sweeps over her with a disdain that makes Feyre’s eyes narrow in anger.

The blonde only stares blankly at him. Bored.

You bite back the twitch of your lips and notice Viviane doing the same.

So more than just a few of you know what had been done.

Azriel sits so still in his chair you aren’t sure the stone-faced male is even breathing as you sit in your chair to Eris’ left, settling into the plush cushion that faces the Night Court members.

Thesean, your Dawn Court host, begins. “Rhysand, you have called this meeting. Pushed us to gather sooner than we intended. Now would be the time to explain what is so urgent.”

Rhysand takes his time, blinking slowly before he responds, “Surely the invading armies landing on our shores explain enough.”

“So you have called us to do what, exactly?” Helion challenges, bracing his forearms on his muscled, gleaming thighs. “Raise a unified army?”

“Among other things,” Rhys says mildly, in a way that irks you. If he has such pressing matters then why isn’t he getting to the point? “We–”

His words falter as power crackles through the chamber. Everyone falls silent and the scent of spring prickles your nostrils, evading your senses as it sweeps through the room on a pollen-filled gust. Something about it is too sweet, too flowery, too potent, nearly choking you as the beast himself prowls in through the doors, later than your court had been.

Tamlin.

He enters the room alone, like a crack of lightning, winnowing into the chamber, gaze directed at Feyre, smiling like a wolf.

You and Eris share a glance, his face impassive, cool, but you catch the amusement glittering in his copper gaze, the slight curve of his mouth as the air drains from the room and the shields surrounding every High Lord and their courtiers locks into place.

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acowar #acotar #acomaf #acosf #azriel #azsazz

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 4

a/n: sorry this is a bit late, Halloweekend got very busy. Enjoy!!

Other chapters

Warnings: none

Word count: 2k

“I suggest someone else take her back, she did not have a good time during the flight” Cassian says and flashes you a mischievous grin. His face drops when he sees the far away look in your eyes and the wet streaks on your cheeks “seriously though, can someone winnow her?” “I need to speak with Lucien so I can take her, but I have a few meetings until later in the afternoon” she looks to Mor “do you mind giving her a tour of the house and finding her a room in the meantime?” Mor adjusts her hair and says “of course, we can have a little girls day and get to know each other a bit. I’ll fill you in on all of our juicy gossip” she winks at you. You wipe your tears away and put on a poor excuse of a smile “that sounds great, I love to gossip”. You laugh, kind of, trying to ignore the pang in your chest. Memories of long gossip sessions with friends flashing through your mind. At coffee shops, during phone calls, at sleep-overs before you fall asleep. Amren gets up from her chair “I assume this meeting is over. I’ll see if I can find something in my personal library” and walks out. “Meeting adjourned '' Rhysand announces and the group stands to go their own ways. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, y/n” Feyre smiles and walks out of the room. Mor is waiting for you by the doorway “Come on, girl, there’s a lot to see”. 

“I think this should be your room” Mor opens the door and lets you walk in first. The tour had been… a lot to take in. The house is huge and it’s beautiful but it has about a hundred floors and a million rooms. When you step through the door, you’re not shocked to see a beautifully decorated room with an incredible view to match. Velaris, the city of starlight, Mor had told you. “It’s close to the stairs, has its own bathing room and if you pull this back” she goes towards the curtains and reveals a glass door that blends in perfectly with the wall of windows “a balcony! I think no one has claimed this one because it is a little on the smaller side but if all goes well you’ll be on your way home soon” she smiles as you look around. This room is twice the size of my room back home. The bed looks divine, it is made with expensive looking linens, it has about ten decorative pillows that take up half of the mattress. You sit on it and lay back. Good god, I’m never leaving this bed. “This is the most extravagant bed and room I’ve ever seen, let alone stayed in” months of traveling on a budget had gotten you accustomed to thin mattresses at crowded hostels or questionable spare bedrooms from online listings. This was luxury. From what you had gathered last night, a High Lord is someone akin to a king and by the looks of this “house” Rhysand has the taste and wallet of true royalty. “I can’t disagree, it is beautiful” she sits next to you “so… I was serious about the gossip. There are some things you might want to know about the whole dynamic within the Court of Dreams” you can’t help the genuine smile that comes on “tell me everything”. “I knew there was something about you that I liked” she giggles “ok so since you’ve met Lucien I guess we can start with him and Elain. This is crazy, the poor male has terrible luck. Anyways Elain is Feyre’s sister and quick backstory, Feyre and her sisters were humans but for different reasons got turned Fae a while back. Elain and Nesta got dunked in the Cauldron and that turned them. The thing is that all of us were there when it happened and when Elain came out of the Cauldron, the mating bond snapped between her and Lucien-” Oh this is good. “Mating bond?” “Oh right, a mating bond is something that happens between two people destined by the Mother, as I was saying Lucien just says it in front of everyone and Elain is there like totally in shock. Flash forward to a few weeks later her mortal fiance hates Fae and wants nothing to do with her now and she wants nothing to do with Lucien and then Azriel kind of likes Elain now” she goes on to tell you about how Feyre and Rhysand met and Cassian and Nesta. You noticed that she didn’t tell you anything about her own drama but chose to not acknowledge it. It was comforting in a way that these magical beings had personal dramas and gossiped about it like you and your friends did “those stories are wild, Mor” she nods “we’ve been alive so long that we really have to work hard to keep things interesting” you snort and there's a knock on the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt but y/n, I’m ready to go when you are” Feyre says and you quickly get up from where you’ve made yourself comfortable on the bed. “Yeah, let’s go. Thanks for everything Mor” you quickly hug her and go towards Feyre. “How are we getting there?” you ask, not sure what to expect  “I’ll winnow us, you’ll see” you walk until you reach the terrace where you had landed with Cassian earlier and look at her wearily “this place is warded against winnowing so I’ll fly us out until we pass the wards and then I’ll winnow to the Manor”. As she speaks, wings appear on her back and she holds out her hands for you “it’ll be quick. I promise” you gulp. 

Feyre did not lie when she said it would be quick but left out that it would feel like the world is slipping from your grasp. You feel sick as she puts you down. You rest your hands on your knees in an attempt to steady yourself. “It takes a bit of getting used to” she lets you take a breath and you say “It beats going through TSA”. Feyre nods and when you’ve gathered yourself begins the short walk to the manor. 

Packing up your belongings was incredibly underwhelming. You had folded the tunic you’d been using as pajamas and the dress Vassa had given you and stuffed it in your bag. Feyre and Lucien had gone to the library to talk about whatever it was they had to discuss. You had a feeling they were talking about you and if you posed a threat of some kind, feeling that the offer of staying in the House of Wind came from the Court of Dreams wanting to keep a close eye on you. You zip everything up and descend the stairs to find your hosts and thank them for everything. Walking to the kitchen you find Jurian making dinner “they really take advantage of your talents here”. He turns from where he is chopping up produce and lets out a chuckle “it’s the price I pay for pissing Vassa off”. “What did you do?” you ask but before he can answer a lovely feminine voice interjects “he was being an idiot as usual” Jurian rolls his eyes but does not defend himself. “On that note,” you try to diffuse the tension “I’ll be staying at the Night Court while they research how to get me back home, thank you so much for everything. I think I would’ve been dead days ago if it weren’t for you” Vassa pouts “I’ll be sad to see you go, it was such a relief to have some feminine energy around here, but I understand” she walks over and hugs you tightly “please come say goodbye once you’ve figured it all out” you hug her back. Jurian stays by his vegetables as he says “you have to eat dinner here though, I’m making enough for the four of us and Lucien brought pie for dessert”. Your chest warms. He really got the pie. “In that case Feyre, will have to wait” you beam. 

After dinner and dessert with the exiles Feyre lets you know she’ll be waiting outside while you say your goodbyes. You hug Vassa and kiss Jurian on the cheek. Lucien offers to walk you to the door and you take the chance to say “thank you for the pie, it was delicious”. He offers you a half smile “you’ve had a rough few days, it’s the least I can do”. “Will you come visit?” you ask hoping the answer is yes. Everyone in the Night Court seems nice enough but Lucien, Jurian and Vassa have a special place in your heart. “I’m due to go there for a meeting in a few weeks. You’re always welcome to use your room here as well” nodding you hug him and without letting go say “I’m nervous”. He hugs you back “you’re in good hands, the House of Wind is safer and you’ll have everything you need”. You let go and walk out the door. 

Feyre walks with you until you reach your room “Mor showed you the kitchen and the common areas?” you walk in and set your bag down. “Yes, she was very thorough with her tour” you felt heavy. Maybe it was the flying and winnowing or saying goodbye or the weight of your reality crashing down on you. “Alright, try to sleep, if you need anything ask the house and if there’s an emergency you can wake up Azriel, his room is across the hall”. You remember him from earlier, tall, wings and devastatingly handsome. Historically, you had never figured out how to act around attractive men and during the meeting it was incredibly difficult to focus on retelling your story. “Thank you, Feyre” she goes to walk out and says “I’ll let you know tomorrow when the priestesses begin their research so you can join them if you like”. 

Wait, did she say ask the house if I need anything? You go to ask her but she’s gone. “House? Can I have water?” you ask to see if you had heard correctly. You are shocked when you see a tray with a jug of water and a glass appear on the bedside table. That is the best thing I’ve ever seen. You do your night routine: you bathe, brush your teeth and hair and put on your tunic. You pull the covers from the bed and get cozy. The house turns off the lights and the curtains are open, letting through the shine of the city and the stars. During the day it’s easier to ignore the ever growing helplessness. It feels like you’re drowning in it. Trapped in a glass coffin in between space and time. You feel your throat get tighter and your chest feels hollow and- Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Count the stars, do something. Your mind screams. One, two, three, four, this isn’t working. You get an idea. Getting out of bed and walking towards your bag you pull out your phone. You haven’t used it since… well, since everything. It should be charged. Your heart skips when the screen lights up and you scroll to your photos as quickly as you can. Forty-five percent. You see a picture of your dog that your mom had sent you on your last day on Earth and tears well up. It hurts but it brings you comfort to know that they have each other. Committing the picture to memory, you shut it off and get in bed again. They have each other. They are not alone. Eventually sleep takes over. Mercifully, you have no dreams.

The house had closed the curtains after you fell asleep. When you woke up to a dark room you almost thought you had slept through an entire day. Sensing you had awoken, the curtains flew open and you see the sun above the city. It looks like it’s still early. You put on your dress and go have breakfast in the dining room. Azriel is the only one there. “Good morning” he greets. You fiddle with your dress, suddenly aware of the dirt that’s staining the hem and the way it falls off your shoulder. “Good morning”.

#acomaf #acosf #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #jurian acotar #lucien vanserra #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #fae #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta acotar #amren #vassa acotar #queen vassa #jurian

[wolken-himmel]

In which Deuce develops a crush on (Y/n), Vil's younger sister, after their meeting at the VDC.

Can his friends help him with his shyness?

Request by anon.

"So, what do we have on her?"

Ace's eyes were narrowed in concentration, trained at the white board propped up in his and Deuce's shared bedroom in the Heartslabyul dorm. The other members of the friend group — Epel, Sebek, and Jack — followed Ace's example with the exception of Deuce, who was busy rocking back and forth.

Jack had a notepad in his hands and read out, "(Y/n) Schoenheit, Vil's younger sister. Our age—"

"Beautiful," Deuce interrupted dreamily, "elegant, charming— incredible—" A soft sigh escaped his lips, and his eyes were practically the shape of hearts.

Sebek rolled his eyes. "That's not helpful, lovesick fool."

However, Deuce easily shushed him by putting a finger to the Diasomnia student's lips, which drew a low growl from the latter. "Shh, I didn't finish yet." Undeterred, Deuce continued, "Kind, wonderful — and way out of my league..." His eyes fell at the end, and he cast his gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "How would you know that?"

"No, no," Sebek interjected with a grin, "Deuce is completely right."

That earned him a punch to the shoulder from Epel, although the punch could barely be felt, anyway. Epel rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Sebek, don't be so mean. Deuce clearly ain't feeling right." To prove his point, the lavender-haired boy pointed at Deuce, who was slowly beginning to hyperventilate.

Deuce had a hard time breathing normally. "She's a famous model: the (Y/n) Schoenheit," he managed to wheeze out. "And I'm... nobody."

"You're not nobody!" Ace exclaimed immediately while wrapping an arm around his friend in a reassuring manner. "Didn't you like, charm her the first time you met?"

Deuce exhaled slowly. "Well, kind of? But I'm not sure if she would like me back..."

"You didn't even tell us about," Sebek interjected, "your first meeting, Deuce."

The boy addressed jumped in surprise, his eyes as large as saucers as he stared at the half fae. "Oh— my bad." A wistful sigh left his lips as he planted his chin in his hands and slowly began, "Well, we met briefly before the VDC. She came to visit her brother and wish him good luck. And uh... she was so happy to see him that she wasn't exactly look where she was walking—"

"So she stumbled over something!" Epel continued.

"—and," Jack guessed in amusement, "you caught her just in time."

The smooth transition caused Ace to break out into laughter, followed by everyone else — even Deuce, who by then looked a lot more relaxed. Ace shot his fellow Heartslabyul member a dopey grin. "Bingo! You charmed the hell out of her, dude," he exclaimed and high-fived Epel and Jack.

Even Sebek let out a little chortle. "That's certainly better than to spill water on her... or bump into her and then help her up. That would be too cliche."

"Oh?" Epel cooed mockingly. "Has someone read too many romance books?"

Sebek brightened up immediately. "Hell no!"

"We can help Sebek with his love life another time," Ace grumbled. "Now is Deuce's time to shine!"

Thus, all eyes landed on Deuce again, who still sat silently in his corner, wallowing. "Vil would never approve of me dating his sister. His expectations— are way too high, impossible to reach even," he muttered after a long while of silence.

A series of groans went through the room.

"Who cares about what Vil thinks!" Epel shrieked and violently threw his arms into the air. "I certainly don't! Or... only when he's really scary..."

"...(Y/n) probably cares for his opinion?" Deuce said unsurely. "He probably complains to her about me all the time."

Sebek hummed. "Negative attention still is attention?" At that, everyone turned to Sebek and shot him a quizzical look, even with a twinge of judgement. The poor half fae shrank into his bean bag and murmured, "Hey, I'm just saying! Not as if I'm speaking of experience or anything like that..."

Just as the others were about to open their mouths to stutter out something — anything to break the awkward silence — a strange ring echoed through the room.

Jack was the first to pick up on it. "Wait! Everyone be quiet! What was that horrible noise?"

"Oh, just my phone..." Deuce muttered while swiping his hands across the wooden floor to find his abandoned phone. Eventually, he found it and absent-mindedly scrolled through his notifications, the others about to go on with their conversation when a scream escaped Deuce's lips. "Someone sent a follow request on MagiCam? (Y/n) Schoenheit?!" He threw his phone to the ground again.

Ace was the first to begin cheering. "We did it, folks!"

"I guess this is a success," Jack mused. "Although we did absolute nothing."

Luckily, the phone was still working when Deuce had scrambled to the other side of the room to retrieve it again. His hands shook and were slippery with sweat when he hastily accepted the request. His friends stared at him, all of them with bated breath.

Then, Deuce raised his gaze and looked at them with a frightened look on his face. "I— she just texted me a quick hello—" His breathing sped up again, and he could barely manage to cry out, "What do I text back!? Help!"

Ace let out a boisterous chuckle. "Okay... let me think... how about..." Tapping his chin with his index finger, his eyes eventually lit up in realisation. A devious grin on his face, he suggested, "How about: 'Hewoo (Y/n)!! 😎 I'm sooo totally happy to talk to you again uwu.' How does that sound?"

"Alright, sent."

Ace's eyes widened in horror when he realised what friend had just done. "No wait— that was a joke, Deuce!!"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #reader insert #y/n #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #twst deuce spade #twst deuce x reader #twisted wonderlans deuce #female reader

[avelera]

One reason I love and tend to put in my fics a headcanon that Hob is functionally immortal on his own now—that even if Death theoretically withdrew the favor he wouldn’t die OR she in fact never gave the ability to him the first place she just let Dream think she did—is because of how much it would blow Dream’s mind.

Dream is, honestly, a monarchist. He is a monarch so it makes sense. He believes people are born into a certain station and role and even if it’s painful he holds himself to that same standard as he does his subjects. (Also an understandable mindset to have when being born into a role makes you a king, but I digress.) He treats mortals as lesser, not always and there’s a lot of caveats, but he definitely thinks he has the measure of humanity and he’s not always impressed or apt to change his behavior at a mere human’s request. He’s an arrogant sonofabitch and it’s literally the plot of the show that his imprisonment and ordeal begin to soften this arrogance. This isn’t conjecture.

So I love the idea that Dream has Hob in this little mental box labeled “Normal Human (exception: can’t die)(exception to exception: unless we change our minds)” and that he treats Hob as he would a human who just happens to have one unusual trait. He doesn’t share information with Hob. He clearly thinks himself superior at the beginning of their encounters. This changes of course, otherwise I wouldn’t ship them.

But I am just utterly tickled by the idea of Dream being all, “Yes, I have feelings for this human but he is just a human, born that way and fated to die someday, unless the Endless or the gods or the fae intervene, so it was never meant to be or I’ve learned from experience it can only end in tragedy.” Only for Death to pop in and be like “Oh, no, Hob is actually immortal now. He did it on his own. He wasn’t born that way, he really did just decide not to die and it’s a funny old universe that he wanted it enough that it actually worked.”

Like, that would make Dream’s head explode. That someone could achieve godhood or a supernatural nature not by birthright or blood, but by just being INCREDIBLY DRIVEN to wanting one thing more than any other creature ever has, and that is to live. And it’s just a random dude from a rainy island in the Middle Ages who watched half his village die of the Black Death and decided that wouldn’t be him. Just. Phenomenal. It’s just a weird thing that happened that it worked, but it’s the sort of weird things that often happens in the Sandman world, Dream just can’t wrap his mind around Hob being someone who achieves specialness on his own.

Anyway, I’m rambling. I should clarify I do not think this is canon. This is just a bit of headcanon I like to put in fics I write that I think isn’t necessarily contradicted by the show (my comic refresh has not yet begun in earnest so maybe there’s something there idk). It’s just fun to stick it to a blood-right idealizing monarchist brooding old as balls Dream lord the idea he doesn’t have it all figured out.

#dreamling #hob gadling #sandman meta

[darkworkcourier]

Hi yes I've been enchanted and ensnared by @cyber-nya's Monster 141 AU, so I rolled around in that sandbox like a heathen.

---

Dr. Adler's easy to figure out. Price picks up on it the second he walks into the infirmary on his weekly blood pack acquisition mission. Rather than the usual overly-sterile, Clorox smell, he's hit with a scent wave that screams herb garden. It makes him blink hard, reeling back, covering his nose with his wrist.

Once he recovers a little, he sees stacks of cardboard boxes, all marked up in German—Zauberbücher, Kristalle, Tränke (Zerbrechlich!), among many, many others. Adler stands in the middle of her cardboard castle, holding up two little vials up to the light. She frowns, taps on one, and tilts her head when it... changes color, turning a deep mauve.

Price wavers on whether to leave her to whatever it is she's doing, or interrupt her. He decides on the latter, mostly because he's starving, and they still have another week and a half before he can get anything fresh.

"Doc?" he tries.

"I heard you come in, Captain Price," she says, not bothering to turn her head. The vial in her left hand changes color again to a fetching chartreuse. "One moment. These are very volatile."

"Like exploding kind of volatile, or...?"

"Volatile as in prone to either reverse the order of your internal organs, or potentially cure a hangover." She pauses, squints. "I can't remember which one does what."

That seems incredibly important. Price presses himself against the wall by the door, all too happy to make a break for it if it means his small intestine won't come out his nose. Not that he uses his small intestine for much these days, but he'd rather not experience that.

In the end, she seems to decide which potion does what, setting the chartreuse vial down on her desk, and tucking the other vial (deceptively clear) in a cast iron chest that looks like it was probably made in the medieval period. She locks it twice.

Once that's done, she sighs and turns to face him. "Sorry about that, Captain. What can I do for you?"

"Just swung by to pick up, uh, supplements."

Dr. Adler raises one dark brow. "The blood packs, you mean."

He didn't remember telling her about his status, but seeing her turn their formerly boring infirmary into a witchy apothecary makes him think that it wouldn't matter if he told her or not. "Yeah," he says, rather lamely.

She nods, dusting her hands off on her lab coat, before walking over to the mini-fridge. "Do you have a preference?" she asks.

"No," he replies. "Learned not to be picky."

At that, she suddenly stands up, abandoning the fridge empty-handed. Price watches her with suspicion as she approaches her fortress of boxes with the expression of a woman on a mission. Her hands hover in front of her, going over the boxes like a human metal detector, before finally landing on one of the boxes marked Tränke. She carefully moves it to her desk, rifling through its contents (which sound alarmingly fragile) before lifting a squat, rotund little glass full of wine-dark liquid. As soon as she pops the cork, the smell hits Price like a bus.

Fae blood. Fucking hell, he'd know that stuff anywhere.

Adler winds through her labyrinth of boxes toward him, and it takes a hell of a lot of self control not to rip the bottle out of her hand. Instead, she politely hands it to him before returning her hands to her coat pockets.

"Try that," she says. "It's not completely fresh, and I won't be able to refill all my stock for at least a few weeks, but it should help."

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Price drinks the bottle's contents in one go, only vaguely thinking that maybe he should have asked how much he could drink. Dr. Adler's expression doesn't change, even when the bottle's completely dry, so he assumes it's fine. And it's good. Fae blood is sweet on his tongue, a shimmery white wine to a human's dark claret. It fills him up, gets his head clear, saturates all the colors in the room, and makes his peripheral vision glow. In short, it's fucking awesome.

"Oh," he says. "That's..."

"Stop by when you need more," she cuts in with a shrug. "I have a few other varieties. Some are harder to come by than others, so I'll have to be a bit frugal with those. Give it a couple weeks and I should have better stock."

"Thanks, Doc," Price replies, a little in awe. He hands her the bottle, knowing if he keeps it any longer, he's going to break it open and lick up the remainder.

"Gern geschehen," Dr. Adler replies. She replaces the cork, then turns on heel and goes back to her boxes.

Price decides it's better to leave her be for now. But as he leaves, he gets why she came so highly recommended.

---

As easy as it is to figure out that Dr. Adler is their resident witch-on-call, it's stupid hard to identify what ever Carrion is.

When she leaves a room, the arguments get heated. Gaz swears up and down she's another kind of witch. Maybe a... flight one, if that's a thing. She's good at piloting, having, quoth he, "A weird relationship with gravity." That has to be a witch trait.

No, argues Soap. He smelled something on her, but it wasn't the same as the strange herb-earth-magic scent that follows in Dr. Adler's footsteps. No doubt she's not human, but it irks him with the same sensation of having a word on the tip of his tongue. He knows this. Shapeshifter, maybe? Some kind of weird changeling? But neither of those seem right.

"You sniffed her?" Gaz asks, incredulous.

"Not on purpose!" Soap retorts. "I just so happened to smell her when she walked by!"

"Creep," Gaz sagely confirms.

Soap responds by tackling Gaz with a decidedly dog-like growl.

For the next four weeks, the 141 puzzles over their pilot. She seems blissfully unaware of the way they stare at her, happily in her own little world. She sings to herself, preens when they compliment her after a flight, hops away in little dance steps after every mission.

Then a mission goes wrong.

They're across enemy lines, helo half-drowned in a river, a storm battering the landscape, desperation making monsters of all of them. Soap was the first to lapse, literally tearing through hostiles with otherworldly howls and snarls. Price rips open throats, pupils blown, jaw dripping with blood. Gaz pierces soft body after body with an impossibly-sharp sword, maw burning with embers as his secondary form threatens to come loose.

And Ghost— It's hard to argue with death incarnate, especially if you're on the debating team.

Everyone's so caught up in the fight, in the desperate high-stakes bloodbath, that they don't have time to check on their pilot. She got out of the crash, confirmed she was safe, and that was all.

But then Soap's pinned by gunfire, forced to crawl under rubble just to escape the onslaught. He pauses, paws burning into the mud underneath him, thinking on the best strategy to get through a wall of human hostility. During that dull roar of a lull, something catches his eye.

The first thing he thinks is that is a fucking huge bird.

The second thing isn't so much a thought as it is shock at the sight of a talon the size of a pickax piercing a man's skull like a melon. Wings furiously beat, the sound like a snarl of thunder, and a high-pitched shriek makes Soap's sensitive ears ache.

Only then does he register that it's Carrion. Their Carrie, their happy-go-lucky beam of sunlight pilot who sings made-up songs and dances like a moron when she thinks no one's watching—that Carrie is leaving gouges in their enemy like they're nothing. Her arms are massive wings, black and white tapering to red (just like the bearded vulture on her helmet, and now Soap just feels stupid), legs now scaled and ending in those deadly talons. Her head's the same, except her hair's loose from its braid and falling around her shoulders in a windblown mess, and her mouth opens to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth.

She's a fucking harpy.

Soap watches in awe for a moment more before realizing she's still by herself. As badass as it is, he clips around the corner of the rubble pile to attack the group from the opposite end, meeting her in the middle. Once their enemy is just a smear in the mud, he finally looks up at her, huffing once in gratitude.

"No problem," she says, smiling with her wicked teeth. Her voice is higher, crackling like lightning. It's awesome.

Their mission wraps up quick after that, a massacre split five ways, fur and feathers truly flying.

Once they're back at base, beaten and battered but otherwise whole, Carrion slinks away to the showers. The rest of the 141 leaves her be, allows her a private moment to get herself back in order.

And Gaz sums it all up with a firm, "That was badass."

Everyone hums, growls, or hisses in agreement.

#cod: mw2 #mw2 oc #monster 141 #monster 141 au #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #oc: dr leonie adler #oc: carrie carrion dunmore #THIS AU'S CONSUMING MY LIIIIIIFE

[dreamlandreader]

Foolish Fire

Chapter One: Little Lights

Merry Christmas! I’m here to deliver one freshly baked fic for the incredibly lovely and wonderfully talented @popjunkie42-blog for the @acotargiftexchange 🫱🏻🎁 Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa! ♥️ I’ve loved chatting with you over the past couple of months! I hope you love this fic as much as I’ve loved every minute of writing it.

Click HERE if you would prefer to read on AO3 Content warnings - Suggestive conversations, bad language and public displays of fae affection 🔥

Word Count - 3201 Words

“Absolutely not, Feyre. No way. Not a chance!” Rhysand insisted for the third time in less than an hour. He may love his mate to the end of his existence and beyond, but his patience was becoming increasingly limited.

It didn’t help Feyre’s case that she was attempting to have this rather alarming conversation whilst Rhys was turning his office upside down, trying to locate an important document that had escaped his attention.

“Why not?” Feyre begged, bouncing her son energetically on her hip and following Rhys across the room as he frantically searched through his neatly arranged files, papers flying everywhere.

“I am not spending a weekend in the woods with half our inner circle, a toddler, and Lucien freaking Vanserra!” Rhys huffed.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not half the inner circle; it’s my sisters and their mates - one of whom happens to be your brother!” Feyre stated plainly, rolling her eyes at her mate’s usual dramatics. “Secondly, I thought you and Lucien were okay now?”

“Well, yes, okay to share dinner and a drink with, not to huddle around a campfire, darling”, he groaned.

“Daddy’s grumpy,” Nyx said to Feyre, hiding a giggle behind his tiny hands. Rhys stuck his tongue out to his son, of course, he would take his mother’s side. The cheeky baby just blew a raspberry back in response.

“I really think this could be good for us, Rhys,” Feyre tried again, ignoring her two boys’ antics and glancing over at her mate’s desk. “I love our lives, and the responsibility we have for this court, but even the High Lord and Lady need a break from time to time. We’ve barely seen each other the past few weeks,”

Feeling the twinges of guilt starting to gnaw at his gut, Rhys looked from his son to his wife just in time to see her pull the exact paper he needed from his desk with knowing eyes. He supposed he had been overdoing it a little the last month or so. Sighing, he reached for the paper with one hand and hooked an arm around Feyre’s waist with the other. 

“I know things have been busy at the moment, but once this treaty is drafted and we’ve managed to convince everyone to sign it, then I’m all yours again, darling,” 

“You need a break, Rhys,” Feyre sighed. 

“When I do eventually go back to it, I’m able to see exactly what I need to do to make it work better,” Feyre said gently, looking at Rhys with such care and warmth in her eyes. “Clearly, all this extra work has your head muddled if you couldn’t find a paper right there on your desk. Give yourself a break, and come back with fresh eyes. The treaty will be all the better for it.”

“And what about Nyx? We can’t take him off into the woods. He’s too young,” Rhys replied, stroking his son’s cheek as he looked at his father with such innocent and loving eyes.

“Mor said she will happily babysit for a couple of days,”

“Aunty Mor! Aunty Mor!” Nyx squealed, clapping his pudgy hands together in excitement.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you, baby? A whole weekend with Aunty Morrigan,” Feyre said to her son, tickling his round tummy.

Rhysand walked over to his plush velvet couch and flopped down theatrically.

“But why can’t we just throw him an obnoxiously large party like a normal Fae male. Why does it have to be in a forest?”

“Because Elain wanted to plan something special for the first birthday he’ll celebrate as part of a mated couple. She knows he loves the outdoors and thought it would be a great opportunity for us all to go on a family trip. Please, Rhys! Do it for me!”

“Oh, for caldron’s sake! Fine. But I’m not sharing a tent with Cass, no matter how much he begs!” Rhys insisted, giving his mate the most adorable of pouts.

Two weeks later, with a backpack full of supplies and her mate in tow, Feyre sludged through the thick mud and jumped over the tree roots which lay intertwined on the forest floor. Rhysand followed behind her, much less enthusiastically clambering through the woods, a solemn look upon his face, as his wife continued to drag him by the hand, and they fell behind the rest of their group.

Lucien and Elain were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, leading the group with an impressive energy that Rhys believed could only be explained by their newly formed bond. No one could possibly be that excited to trudge through the woods, he thought. Bouncing along the woodland route, Lucien had not stopped talking for the five hours they’d been walking. Elain was practically skipping alongside him, giving him her most rapt attention.

In typical fashion, Cassian and Nesta, who lingered in the middle of the pack, had spent the day jumping between arguing uncontrollably and restraining themselves from ripping each other’s clothes off. Rhys swore to himself on hour three that if he caught one more scent of their arousal upon the wind, he would winnow himself and Feyre right back home, damn the consequences.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Elain had chosen the Erebus forest on the border between the courts of Night and Day because it was known for its beautiful pathways and glittering lakes. The trees were still lush with leaves despite the autumn days creeping in, leaving the landscape rich with burnished gold, deep russet and warm copper foliage. The most extensive woodland in the entirety of the Night Court, the Erebus forest was the centre of a vast amount of local folklore, much of which Rhysand had been told by his mother in childhood. Tales of devious tricksters and terrifying beasts that prowled the woods were passed down through generations of Night Court young. As the High Lord over this territory, though, Rhysand had never found evidence to suggest that these stories were anything more than myths which warned children against getting lost in such a dense forest.

Rhysand’s poor mood was punctuated by the slow and steady drip drip drip of rain. “I knew this was a terrible idea,” Rhys mumbled, slicking his damp hair out of his eyes.

“Rhysand!” Feyre exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks with a venomous look in her eyes and raindrops dripping off the end of her nose. “You survived the blood rite, have fought in some of the deadliest battles in Prythian’s history, and have literally been brought back from death, yet a bit of rain is sending you over the edge?”

Rhysand looked at his muddy feet, raindrops dripping from his eyelashes in shame. He may be hating every moment of this trip, but he could not stand the thought of letting his wife down.

“I didn’t have a choice with those things. I did them to survive. This is supposed to be … fun,” he grimaced, shivering on the spot. “Why can’t we just winnow to a camping spot?”

“You know why. Lucien and Elain have asked we do everything authentically. No magic.”

“Urgh,” he groaned like a petulant child.

“Rhys, I love you so much, but I need you to stop whining! You’re driving me mad,” Feyre begged, feeling dangerously close to the end of her tether.

“Hey, I think this would be a good place to stop and set up camp,” Lucien shouted, interrupting Feyre’s tense glare. Replacing her frown with a smile, she once again grabbed Rhysand’s hand and dragged him along.

It took Rhys and Feyre roughly forty minutes to pitch their tent. Twice as long as Cassian and Nesta, who, after high-fiving and giving one another a delighted grin, sat back and critiqued everyone else’s technique.

The copse of trees under which they set up camp didn’t do much to shield them from the rain that was teaming down in buckets. Still, once the storm began to subside and a fire was built, they could at least start warming themselves.

Rhysand had decided for his mate, and his mate alone, he would try to seem more enthusiastic. So when Lucien suggested he could teach the other two males how to catch fish from a nearby river with their bare hands, Rhys was the first to roll up his sleeves and jump in the freezing water.

Feyre and her sisters, who chose to watch in amusement from the edge of the water, did not even attempt to stifle their laughter. After all, you rarely get front-row seats to watch the High Lord of the Night Court and his general splash around aggressively in water to bolster their male pride.

Lucien was successful in his endeavour and caught a good amount of sizeable fish, which would easily fill the bellies of the entire group. Cassian and Rhys, however, were slightly less successful. Cassian had managed to catch a fish, but it was barely as big as his thumb. Rhys, on the other hand, had caught everything but a fish. An old boot, several empty bottles of fae wine and numerous twigs now lined the bank of the river and stared mockingly at Rhysand, who was beginning to doubt his own skills.

Feyre was right. He had survived much worse conditions than this, he’d even been through much more severe forms of camping than this. During the blood rite, he had been separated from his brothers and had to fight his way back to them, all whilst trying to keep himself alive in the process. He hadn’t thought twice about it back then. He was getting too comfortable with his life in Velaris. Getting used to the calm of a post-war Prythian. Yes, he and his mate had piles of work to keep them busy, treaties to sign, and alliances to make, but all in all, they were in an excellent position, a period of great contentment. That thought made Rhysand’s stomach squeeze. He should not, could not, let himself get complacent.

From then on, Rhysand decided to utilise this trip as an opportunity to re-engage with his survival instincts. Perhaps he could even learn a trick or two from his Autumn Court companion. He would never admit it to Lucien, but some sly observation of his obvious skills would harm no one. And, if his active participation in the group kept his mate happy, then Rhys was even more convinced to oblige.

With his newfound vigour, Rhysand pulled Feyre into his lap whilst dinner was roasted over the campfire. Her suspicions about her mate's sudden change of heart soon disappeared as the fae wine that Elain had snuck into her travel sack began to flow, and laughter echoed around the campsite.

A few hours later, giddy from the wine and encouraged by the slowly setting sun, Rhysand dipped his head into the crook of his mate's neck and began to plant gentle kisses against her soft skin. Within seconds, Feyre turned in his lap, eyes alight with craving, and her lips pressed against his own. His hands slid down her spine and cupped her backside as he let out a low groan.

Just as Rhys slipped his tongue between Feyre's parted lips, the lovers were jerked harshly back into reality by an unamused Nesta.

“For the love of the mother, please stop before I puke up the remains of dinner,” Nesta drawled, giving her sister a pointed look.

“Oh come on, Nesta, as though you and Cass haven’t been giving each other sex eyes all night,” Feyre laughed, as Cassian shrugged in agreement, and Nesta elbowed him in the side.

“At least we are holding back until we get to the tent,” Nesta retorted, raising one eyebrow in a blatant challenge.

Although the sisters were debating who the horniest couple was, there was none of the bitterness that used to linger between them. Since Nyx’s birth, Feyre and Nesta had worked on repairing the fractured parts of their relationship, and though things had been tentative for a while, this sisterly teasing was a clear step in the right direction.

Rhysand’s heart swelled for his mate. He knew just how much this newly developing relationship meant to her, and from the warm smile radiating from his brother, he could tell it meant a lot to Nesta, too.

“All that steamy smut you read and your sister sharing one kiss with her mate is sending you over the edge?” Feyre retorted, a quizzical grin brightening her beautiful face.

“That smut doesn’t require me to watch my sister getting her ass squeezed!” Nesta huffed, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“Pfft, as if Elain and I aren’t painfully aware that you and Cassian have fucked on every available surface in the House of Wind,”

An awkward cough interrupted the quick retort that was teetering on the edge of Nesta’s lips, and all eyes swung to Cassian, who was rubbing the back of his neck in evident discomfort.

“I hate to break it to you ladies,” Cassian said, low and quiet, as though he was revealing his most precious of secrets. “But I don’t think either of you is the Archeron sister that needs worrying about!”

Nesta and Feyre, along with their mates, all readjusted their gazes towards Elain, who was sat in her mate’s lap, sharing kisses and sensually moving her fully clothed hips against his. She was blissfully ignorant to her sister’s shock as Lucien’s hands slid up both sides of her dress, and she threw back her head in pleasure, allowing him to kiss down her exposed neck towards her chest.

“Oh gods, that’s enough socialising for today. I’m going to bed!” Nesta cried, almost tripping over herself in an effort to unsee what was now burned deeply into her mind.

“Yeah, good plan. Great plan!” Feyre squeaked, cheeks getting hotter by the second, as her desire to winnow away as far as possible grew exponentially.

Rhysand had to laugh as his mate clumsily hurried away towards the tent. What did she expect going away with a freshly mated couple? Even if the initial frenzy had eased off, the first year of a new bond was filled with passion and numerous instances where all rational thought went out of the window. Even now, three years after his own mating bond was cemented, Feyre and Rhys often struggled to resist each other.

Catching up to Feyre, Rhys wrapped his arms around his mate's middle and tucked his head into her neck, nipping at her earlobe.

“I didn’t know you were so easy to make blush, my love,” Rhys chuckled in her ear.

“I didn’t expect to see my sister dry-humping her mate tonight, that’s all,” Feyre replied, laughing too.

"Let's go for a walk, Darling," Rhys purred.

Feyre turned in his arms, a sly grin on her face as she clasped Rhysand's hand in her own, and together, they wandered deeper into the woods, away from the prying ears of their fae brethren.

Breathless from excitement, Rhys twirled his mate towards him, picked her up and pushed her against a nearby tree. As their lips met, teeth clashing in their eagerness, Feyre scraped her nails against Rhysand’s scalp in the way she knew always made the male shiver with anticipation.

Rhys nipped and sucked at Feyre’s lower lip, sliding his hands under her thick jumper and lazily working them up her body. Tracing the bottom of her lacy bra around to the back, Rhys was moments away from undoing the clasp when a sharp sound perforated the heated silence of the woods.

The snap of the twig had the lovers on instant high alert. Rhys tried to reassure himself that perhaps it was just one of the other couples from their party, who, like Feyre and himself, felt like a midnight tryst under the stars. But then, in the distance, a soft flickering light melted through the frigid black of night.

“What is that?” Feyre faltered, peering around her mate’s shoulder to better see the potential danger ahead.

"I don't know, but it's coming this way. Perhaps it's time to leave." Rhys replied, gripping Feyre's waist more firmly but lowering her to the ground to give her the chance to run if needed.

As the light drew ever closer, it became apparent that the source of light did not come from the lamp of another weary traveller or even as the result of a predator out in the dead of night ready to catch some unsuspecting prey. Instead, it appeared that the glow was produced by a small, illuminated, floating creature.

"Fireflies?" Feyre asked, squinting into the distance. The couple's fae hearing picked up the sound of tiny wings fluttering against the brisk autumn air as the light danced closer.

"No, they look like-"

"Butterflies!" Feyre gasped as dozens of dazzling butterflies swirled around them like autumn leaves on the breeze, leaving a gleaming trail in the path behind them.

Feyre reached out a hand and let out a small laugh as one of the creatures landed on her index finger, its magic bouncing off her own, sending a warm tingle throughout her body.

Then, as quickly as the golden butterflies appeared, they began to drift off and were, one by one, swallowed by the shadows. Only the gentle butterfly on Feyre's hand remained, casting a glow that lit her face with wonder.

Slowly taking flight, the beautiful creature seemed to beckon Feyre to follow it deeper into the woods. Feyre felt in her very soul that it was of the utmost importance that she went with it, and she shared this thought with her mate. Rhysand, however, was uncertain. He scoured his memory for any recollection of a creature quite like this, with luminous wings and a beckoning pull, but he came up short. The only tale he could remember was of the Will-o'-the-wisp, tricky little beasts who masqueraded as distant lamp lights, only to deceive weary travellers into getting lost, often leading them into mortal danger, delivering them to foul monsters who would gladly tear them apart. But, in all the stories he had heard of these characters, they had never taken the form of such placid creatures.

"Come on," Feyre beamed, striding forward, sparkling eyes wide.

"Feyre no!" Rhys replied, reaching a hand out towards her, but he merely blinked, and his mate had disappeared into the inky night.

✨ Click here to head to the series master list ✨

#acotarsecretsanta #acotar gift exchange #feysand #feyre x rhysand #acotar fanfiction #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre darling #rhysand #acotar #sarah j maas

[twisted-in-underland]

Twisted Wonderland staff OC’s; Tangled edition

The full character spreadsheet is finally done! Here are my three TWST staff OCs twisted from Tangled! I’m going to touch on all the points mentioned in the images so no worries if you can’t read my handwriting

Everything will be under the cut so it doesn’t look so overwhelming 😌💕 Likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t repost my art!

Marius G.

Age: 32

Hometown: Isle of the Sun

Pronouns: he/him

Gender: male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Twisted from: Mother Gothel

Marius is an alumnus of Night Raven College and currently works as the Arts Director for the school.

Despite the grey streaks, Marius appears quite young for his age. He was classmates with Divus Crewel and was in Pomefiore while a student.

As the art director, Marius is in charge of classes spanning from the fine arts to music to theatre. Marius is often times teaching the theatre classes but since the arts are electives it all depends on how many students are attending classes.

Marius is incredibly vain. This man will stop class to ask his students if he looks good and is chronically fashionably late to nearly all his classes.

He does, however, have a keen eye for detail which might be because of his vanity.

Marius has forgotten that he’s supposed to be teaching classes on multiple occasions. He is the physical embodiment of the "I'm late for school! Oh wait I'm 30... I'm a teacher!!" meme

Marius can be quite strict as a teacher. Critique days are dreaded by students because Marius can be harsh with his words, though it’s usually because he wants to see his students succeed even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Marius is also known to not only have favourite students but also isn’t shy about reminding his classes who his favourites are. For example; when it comes to performing arts like theatre or singing, Vil is Marius’s favourite. Jamil also seems to be in Marius’s good graces due to his dancing skills.

Marius, Sunna, and Máni are all from the same hometown. Marius once tried to ask Máni out on a date when they were still in school; Máni punched Marius in response.

Marius now appears to show romantic interest in Sunna who often ignores his advances.

Marius has stated to despise young children (pretty much any child up till the age of 15). He seems to tolerate high schoolers, however.

I feel like Marius would have some kind of unique magic, I just don't have any ideas for what it would be. Maybe it would be centred around Gothel's manipulation skills or have something to do with age manipulation in some way.

Dr. Sunna Blumen

Age: unknown

Hometown: Isle of the Sun

Pronouns: She/Her

Gender: female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Twisted From: the sundrop flower

Sunna is a diurnal fae and is the older sister of Máni. They’re either step siblings or adoptive siblings, they don’t quite remember which (totally not an excuse for me being indecisive)

Sunna had no prior involvement with NRC prior to working as the schools nurse. She’s one of the few female staff members at the school.

Sunna is a generally warmhearted and gentle woman. She has excellent bedside manner and most who visit the infirmary feel welcome.

However, if provoked, Sunna will be passive aggressive in her medical care. Think tightening bandages just too tight, putting rubbing alcohol on a wound, etc. Sunna is a very patient person though so it’s not often that someone provokes her to this point.

Sunna seems to be the current subject of Marius’s romantic affections, though she generally ignores him half the time.

She almost always has candy on her to give to her patients. Sunna also adores children and often acts as a maternal figure to others.

Sunna’s unique magic is called “Flowers glow” and is like a stronger version of Morrigan’s unique magic.

While Spring of Avalon can only heal injuries/illnesses inflicted by magic, Flowers Glow can heal almost any injury/illness regardless of how it was inflicted. The spell essentially returns the targets body back to its “prime” or state of being before the illness/injury occurred.

Flowers Glow does require more magical energy than Spring of Avalon, though Sunna doesn’t often need to use her unique magic. With the exception of overblots, regular healing spells/potions are typically enough to heal someone.

Máni Stein

Age: unknown (younger than Sunna)

Hometown: Isle of the Sun

Pronouns: he/they

Gender: nonbinary

Sexuality: Demiromantic Asexual

Twisted from: the moonstone opal

Máni is a nocturnal fae and is the younger brother of Sunna. His eyes and the blue streaks in his hair glow in the dark.

Máni's hair is inspired by Rapunzle's (in the series) hair turning black when she was reading the decay incantation. I did, however, switch the green streaks for a turquoise similar to Cassandra's when she was corrupted by the moonstone.

He works at RSA as the ancient spell and counter-spell professor.

Máni definitely has Aizawa vibes. He would die for his students but he has also been shown to become annoyed with some of the more rambunctious students (ie. Amir or any of my Wonderlands OCs)

He almost always dresses comfortably and looks like he just woke up. Compared to his sister, Máni is the complete opposite; he’s often quiet, low energy, and can seem apathetic most of the time. However, he can be quite blunt when he does speak up, sometimes even coming off as rude or insensitive on accident.

Whether it be the way he was raised or his age, Máni values hard work and dedication. He isn’t one to serve the answers to a problem on a silver platter no matter the person and tries to instil that thinking into his students. Don’t even think about asking for a grade bump, Máni will laugh in your face.

I swear I didn’t have Aizawa in mind when I made Máni…he just gives Aizawa vibes 🤧

I’m a sucker for irony, that’s why Máni is at RSA and Sunna is at NRC despite seeming like they should be switched.

Marius asked Máni out on a date exactly one time, except Marius was rather blunt with how he asked and it offended Máni. Marius got punched as a result.

Máni is the unfortunate "leader" of the trio when they have to be together. The siblings don't always spend time with Marius outside of inter-school events, but when they have to be together Máni is the one who keeps everyone on track.

How does his earring stay on? is it super heavy or is it lightweight? the world may never know.

I don't have a set idea for Máni's unique magic though I think it would be some kind of variation of the moonstone's powers in the series. I'm not sure though if I want the UM to be based on just one of the powers (either the decay aspect or the stone creation aspect) or if I want it to be a combination of the two.

Here are a couple of little expression doodles! I love how the one really showcases Máni and Marius's relationship lmao.

What did Marius do wrong? I'll let you decide

And here's everyone all together! Fun fact: the pattern on the gold trim of Marius's tunic is the outline of the sun drop flower! it was a pain in the butt, but I thought it was a fun little easter egg.

the sketches with the original reference images can be found here and here!

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst #twisted wonderland oc #my art #artist on tumblr #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #digital art #ibis paint x #twisted wonderland fanart #twst fanart #fan art #Marius G #Sunna Blumen #Máni Stein #tangled inspired oc’s #tangled oc

[beloved-daydreams]

Folktober2023 Prompt: "Horror movie marathon" 🎬📺 Friday 13th October

An attempt by

Hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels

📘1 500+ words

😎Characters: Jude, Cardan, Vivi, Taryn and Oak.

✒️Tags: Jurdan, fluff, wholesome, quality time, familial bonds, implied TarynXThe Ghost/Larkin

Was made in a hurry so it might have some errors but you’ll deal with it 💖

✏️✏️✏️

Last week, Vivi came to visit completely unannounced. A movie marathon for Halloween! She said. It'll be fun! She assured us. Taryn tried to turn her down at first, being 7 months into her pregnancy, she understandably found the idea risky. But Vivi being Vivi, she would not give up. And frankly, Taryn did need some family time and support. With no parents, no siblings and no husband by her side, although she doesn’t want to admit it, it must surely be difficult.

Meanwhile, Cardan immediately agreed despite our status. The High Queen and High King going to the mortal world only to watch movies? It’s a rather shameless behavior to display so soon, but Vivi said it makes us audacious for some reason that I didn't quite understand. The audacity! Or whatever.

Though to be completely honest, I'm pretty sure Cardan only wants to go for the caramel popcorn and to see Oak again. Oak who's now the only member of his "lineage" that he more or less appreciates. I'm worried. Nephew and uncle are maybe starting to get along too much. When Vivi found out Oak had punched a kid at school, instead of feeling sorry or ashamed Oak said "Someone who doesn’t respect others shouldn't complain about getting payback." Cardan said it wasn't his fault and it sounded more like something I would say. I beg to differ but he likes my begging so I just agreed and moved on. Vivi noted that he’s turning out to be a sassy child.

Now, we're lying down on the carpet while Taryn and Oak are on the sofa, Vivi is making the popcorn. She still isn't entirely back to being together-together with Heather. Should've figured, if she were I don't think she would've invited us. I hope things turn out well for them.

"Who wants it with caramel!?" Vivi asks from the kitchen, her head tilted to the side from the doorway so she can see us.

Cardan and Taryn lazily raise their hands.

"Who wants it salted?"

Oak and I raise our hands. Cardan looks at Oak like he’s incredibly brave for that, I roll my eyes. Salt only reduces or stops a fae’s ability to use magic for a limited amount of time, it’s not that big of a deal. I swear Cardan loves to overreact and exaggerate the dumbest things. The other day, I came back dragging the head of a traitor behind me to show the folk they can trust me to protect them. Meanwhile, Cardan said, "You know I love you but please think about the smell it’ll leave on the carpets." Well, Cardan dear, we’re King and Queen, we can get new carpets anytime if the smell doesn’t wear off. Also, Taryn is terrific at home decor anyway, I bet she enjoys decorating and redecorating our halls.

Oak puts his small hand on Taryn’s belly, then his ear against it. He’s excited at the idea of becoming an "unkie" to his future niece like Cardan is to him.

As soon as Vivi’s back with the popcorn, the movie starts. The good thing about watching movies at home is that you won’t be done with the popcorn before the commercials end. And although she’s the one who invited us, she keeps talking over the movie’s beginning, asking us how we’re doing and what stuff has been going on in our "fairytale hellhole." Then it quickly goes to the uncomfortable questions.

"So. Rynryn, I heard that a half-fae dude has the hots for you. How’s that going?"

Taryn cringes.

"Oh please, Larkin is ridiculous. Trying to court a widowed woman who’s still pregnant with the child of her late husband? He has no delicacy."

Cardan raises an eyebrow.

"The husband who died by the hands of his wife, you mean." I hit him on the shoulder and he utters a fake sounding ow. Oak is right there, I widen my eyes at him to make him understand but what’s done is done. Oak turns to Taryn once again.

"Why did you kill your husband?" Oak asks curiously with no discernible malice in his gaze or voice. Taryn smiles politely.

"He didn’t bear for me the kind of love that satisfied me nor did he treat my opinions and feelings with enough respect. And you know what that means?"

"People with no respect deserve payback!"

Taryn smiles and puts her hand on Oak’s horned head to praise him. Cardan and I look at each other a bit astonished. So that behavior partly came from Taryn, huh. I’m afraid that at this rate, he’ll become an amalgamation of all of our personalities. No matter. Vivi presses a bit further, putting Taryn back on track which only results in complaints from Taryn’s part.

"I swear he only ever wears plain and boring outfits, even for revels and casual occasions. Not to mention he has no common sense, poor table manners and his attempts at flirting are horrid, frustrating and awkward. How is he supposed to be a spy and assassin if he can’t even put two and two together? No way can he gain the trust of any of his targets that way." She suspiciously over-explains everything wrong with Larkin. Vivi smiles at her knowingly.

"Hmm. I don’t know, to me it sounds like he already caught his target." Vivi says.

"Why are you paying so much attention to him?" Oak chimes in with more accusations.

Taryn shifts her attention back to the TV, a furrow forming on her eyebrows. She tells us we should focus on the movie instead of whatever she thinks of Larkin. Which is none of our business, by the way. And so we do, we watch. Cardan seems to display no particular difficulty in understanding the images and plot but he’s much more entertained by the popcorn. That is until it runs out and he lets himself get swept away. His tail stands up straight like a cat’s every time he’s surprised by the sudden sounds or imagery, namely the jumpscares. It’s cute how his face doesn’t show his fear at all, he seems to be completely unphased if you ignore the tail. I suppose it must’ve been why he hid it all those years. It puts his emotions on display. Making his feelings obvious.

Near the middle, Oak is too tired to continue watching. Vivi puts him to bed. Near the end, Vivi and Taryn somehow manage to fall asleep on the couch. Vivi most likely because she’s not scared of horror movies in the first place, and Taryn because our presence hopefully calmed her down. In the end, this was mainly for us to get together again. Vivi may be clumsy with her words sometimes, but she’s still the same older sister who hugged us when we got into trouble or scraped our knees while falling on the concrete grounds of our neighborhood. I sigh.

While trying to get up, Cardan stops me. He whispers.

"Let’s sleep here."

I widen my eyes at him.

"On the floor?"

"On the carpet, dear."

I roll my eyes.

"I’m sure Vivi won’t mind if we borrow her bed for the night, as long as…" I don’t finish but Cardan gives me a sly smile nonetheless which makes me hit his shoulder lightly.

We get up and I properly tuck Vivi and Taryn in, leaving them to sleep comfortably on the sofa. Then we go to Vivi’s room and make the bed together. Well. "Make" is a big word, we’re both embarrassingly inept at tidying things up since our attendants do it for us. We just cover the bed with a cover we’ll sleep on, tucked in under another new cover so we don’t have to truly "get" into her bed.

As we lay there about to fall asleep, Cardan attempts to talk to me before I manage to make my way into dreamland, as he often does.

"Don’t you miss such things? Movies, popcorn, late night talks with your siblings? We could do that more often."

I smile and grab his tail, pulling it to my front so I can play with the tuft to fall asleep faster. It relaxes me. Cardan has enough only with hugging me, his arms just under my chest, and if his hands wander around to go higher when I’m too tired, I hit them away and he gets the hint.

"It’s fine. I believe it’s better for me to slowly move away from that, eventually we could try meeting in Faerie all together. There won’t be movies anymore, but the food can be brought here."

I’m not sure what face Cardan is making right now, but I think he didn’t like that answer judging by how his tail is flailing around.

"Don’t give up on that. I wish I always had that." He pauses then squeezes me tighter in his arms. "Or is it because of…"

I want my body to stay strong and healthy. My case is arguably completely different from other humans since I’m the Queen, but I’m not willing to risk it. When I reach my mid thirties or so, I’m thinking of stopping my trips to the human world. I hold onto Cardan’s tail in confirmation. And as I start to believe this might be the end of the conversation, he says one last thing before we fall asleep.

"We could try to install electricity in Faerie…"

I smile.

✏️✏️✏️

Please consider leaving comments and/or tags! Love you 🫵🫶

(And before you ask, yes I made the silly banner myself because I wanna look cool and semi-pro 😤) Tell me it’s working lmao

#the folk of the air #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jude x cardan #jurdannetfolktober2023 #jurdannet #join the revel 👻🎃 #fanfiction #beloved-daydreams

[sunshinebingo]

This took me an embarrassingly long time to write but I finally did it. This fic is a gift to @headcanonheadcase who was one of the first writers that made me fall in love with fanfiction. And is also the one who opened my eyes to the wonders of Gwyn/Ithan. @headcanonheadcase dear, what you do for this fandom (and all the others you write for) is incredible. You are amazing!!

CRACKSHIP ALERT

Pairing: Gwyneth Berdara/Ithan Holstrom Synopsis: Ithan remembers the important events in his relationship with his red wolf, Gwyn, from how it started to where they are now. A recollection of little moments that they shared together. Word Count: 5.7k Warning: A tiny bit of smut

Important A/N: I started writing this waaay before hofas was released so this fic does not follow any canon event past HoSaB. It's not a 'hofas canon-divergence', it's just me posting a crackship fanfic after having it in my drafts for half a year.

Read on Ao3 or proceed below the cut for a snippet

Day 8

“I’m Gwyneth. Gwyn. It’s very nice to meet you,” she shook the hand that he had extended to her after introducing himself. Ithan thanked all the Gods above that he had not gaped at her again like a fool. He had been bracing himself for a conversation with her since he caught a glimpse of her bright hair as she was entering the Prime’s office.

“So, you are new here?” he asked as though he had not already secretly asked everyone at the Den for information about her. He had learned that Gwyneth had just arrived in Lunathion with the intention of settling here. Her grandparents were apparently related to the Prime himself. What had struck Ithan the most had been learning that she was a lone wolf, just like he had been before, even if he was now the only wolf in his pack consisting of an angel, some Fae, a mer, a deer shifter and even a dragon and some fire sprites.

“I am. I live near the Old Square, a few blocks away from the White Raven.”

“Really?” he replied a bit too excitedly before clearing his voice and continuing more calmly. “I mean, I live near the Old Square too.”

The smile that spread on her face could have rivaled the sun ahead. “That’s great. Um… maybe we’ll cross path someday. I mean…” she rambled. Was she nervous too? Ithan thought.

“Not that we aren’t already crossing paths at the Den already,” she added with a laugh while indicating the building behind them.

Ithan noticed the way that she was twisting a strand of hair between her fingers and how she could not stand still. She was nervous too. Somehow, that made him a little less tense.

He has admitted to Gwyn, months and months later, that their encounter on that day had not been accidental at all. He had confessed that he might have forsaken more urgent matters to wait until she would leave the Prime’s office. The tongue-lashing he had gotten from his roommates for being late for what they had planned later that day had been totally worth it.

***

Day 10

“Hello there,” a melodious voice drawled behind him. Ithan turned on the stool he was sitting on at the bar of the White Raven to find Gwyn smiling at him.

If he was not already seated, his first look at her would have made him fall on his ass. Gwyn was glowing in a green velvet dress that clung to her and accentuated all the dips and curves of her body. The makeup she had dusted on her eyelids sparkled beneath the flashing lights of the club, making it impossible not to look at her eyes.

“You look…” damn him and his habit of being speechless in her presence. “You are…” he tried and failed again.

Gwyn erupted in laughter at his flustered state. “I think I will take that as a compliment,” she said as she sat on the empty stool beside him.

“Sorry,” Ithan shook his head, “You are stunning.” Phew. See? That wasn’t so hard to say, he thought.

Gwyn’s cheeks started to flush and Ithan was momentarily mesmerised by the way it made her freckles stand out. “Thank you. And you are very handsome as well.”

Ithan was certain that the heat spreading across his face was close to turning him as red as her hair. Gwyn ordered three drinks and turned back to him.

‘’They’re not all for me,’’ she explained when she noticed his raised eyebrows. She pointed at a blond Fae and a brunette angel on the dance floor. ‘’I came with my sisters.’’

His face must have given away his puzzlement concerning her odd family because Gwyn snorted then proceeded to tell him about her chosen sisters.

A drink was placed in front of him. But instead of making his way towards his table where his own found family was, Ithan stayed at the bar, chatting with Gwyn over the loud music. Either her sisters had forgotten about their drinks, or they did not want to cut their conversation short because, as they talked and talked, Gwyn ended up drinking all three cocktails she had ordered while Ithan kept ordering more for himself. He only took note of the time when he turned around at some point and found that all those he had come with were already gone.

That night, Ithan had talked more than he ever had with anyone else in his entire life. He remembers vividly how she had been the only thing on his mind when he was staring at his ceiling before he fell asleep in the early morning. He had a crush on Gwyn. One that went from little to massive in a matter of one training session with the Aux.

***

#Gwynthan #gwyneth berdara #ithan holstrom #gwyn x ithan #acotar #crescent city #crackship #it's mostly fluff #tiny bit of smut #tiny bit of angst

[kimi-twstheadcanons]

Blow Us All Away

-Malleus and (Y/N) have a child, Maelora. A fae king father, a human queen mother, and a half-blood princess. A very happy family indeed. All seemed well, but an unfortunate event has befallen the family. Maelora describes her experience in this…

Pronouns: She/her

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! ALL THE ANGST! Loss of a loved one

Note: I haven’t seen chapter 7 so this doesn’t really have anything in it other than one line inspired from what I’ve seen around the fandom. I also came up with this idea when I was listening to “Dear Theodosia reprise” a deleted song from Hamilton the musical. I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF AND HAD TO WRITE THIS I’M SORRY! It’s not perfect but I really tried. I just needed this idea out of my head

“I’ll be home soon, mother.”

•

•

•

I was picking flowers in the garden. Our lovely little garden that father had grown just for me away from all the other thorn bushes. He was the king of the Briar Valley, after all, he was ever so great and powerful. Mother is kind and compassionate but a mere human with no magical abilities. They say it’s because she’s not from this world but I never truly understood what that meant. Usually, she would help me with the garden and we would play and sing while waiting for father to visit us from his royal duties. If it wasn’t father it would be Lilia or uncle Silver who is usually accompanied by uncle Sebek. They may not be my real uncles by blood, but I don’t recall addressing them any differently.

“Hello there, our darling little princess! Are you making more flower crowns for your parents?” Lilia suddenly appeared out of nowhere, floating upside down above my head. He thought he could surprise me but I’ve gotten used to his tricks, at least for the most part.

“Haha, hi there, Lilia. Yes, I’ve almost finished up these new flower crowns. I apologize but I haven’t made one for you today.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling. Goodness, you truly do get your heart from your mother, yet you have your father's horns. You get your eye shape from your mother but your father’s eye color was so dominant in your genes it seems.” Lilia cooed as he placed his hand on my head between my small horns to gently ruffle my hair. I laughed gently and looked over the three flower crowns I had created. It took me a while because it was hard to remember the correct size of my father's head due to his large horns but I hope everything turned out well. Recently, my mother has been extremely ill. I don’t remember a day when she was the perfect picture of health, she had always seemed off, but her health rapidly decreased incredibly quickly over the last few months. Hopefully, the crown will make her feel better!

“LaLa, can you help me bring these crowns to mother and father? I think father is with mother in their room since it’s getting so late.” I asked Lilia, calling him by a nickname I had called him since I was born. He smiled a wide grin.

“Of course, Maelora, it would be my great honor to escort you to your parents.” He said cheerfully as he held out his arm for me to hold onto. I picked up all three flower crowns and carefully stood up from my blanket on the garden ground. Just as I wrapped my hands around Lilia’s arm, uncle Silver and uncle Sebek came running into the garden in sheer panic. They looked distressed and in a hurry. They panted as they tried to catch their breath.

“Lilia! Come quick, it’s important!” Sebek started since his breath recovered faster.

“Whoa, calm down! What is it? What could have happened so soon?” Lilia asked calmly yet confused.

“The queen! S-she…her illness! It’s gotten worse!” Silver was able to splurge out in pants. Lilia and I looked at each other in panic.

“Is Malleus with her?”

“Yes, but father, her time-“ before Silver could finish his sentence the sky of the Briar Valley began to rapidly swarm with dark and twisted clouds. Green lighting began to form within them. He was cut off by the harsh winds that blew along with the clouds. I knew who was doing that…my father. Something has happened.

“Take the princess and get her to her room immediately, she must not be allowed out until Malleus or I have said otherwise, is that understood?!” Lilia demanded Silver and Sebek. They saluted and offered me their hands for me to hold.

“No, what, why? Lilia, what’s going on?” I asked in fear. Lilia was quick to hand me off and now seemed to be in a very big rush.

“No time for questions, you have to go now! Please listen to me and be a good little princess! I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Lilia, what’s going on with mother?! You have to tell me!” I begged him as Sliver and Sebek held onto my arm to keep me from chasing after Lilia.

“I can’t! I have to hurry before-“ Lilia was then interrupted by the longest and deepest, most heart-wrenching, bloodcurdling scream I have ever heard in my entire life, followed by loud green thunder and lightning strikes through the sky. The dark clouds turned black and the wind increased so much that it blew my mother's flower crown out of my little arms and completely into the air.

“Father…I think it’s too late…” Sliver said abruptly. Lilia went quiet as it began to pour rain on all of us. I looked around at all of them and noticed how all of their faces had fallen into dark shadows and auras of sadness began to radiate off each of them. I knew, but I didn’t want to believe why. I knew but young me was in strong denial. No one would ever wish for something like that to happen to them so suddenly.

~~~

The next day, I was in my room after a bath. Lilia did my hair and helped me get dressed but the entire time he was sad. Silver and Sebek were instructed with watching my door as to not let me out. Lilia enchanted my balcony in case I would try anything mischievous. So I was stuck in my room, confused and scared. I carefully crept to my door to try and see if I could talk to Silver. He’s the only one who actually tells me information.

“Are you sure it’s the right time? She’s so young. I don’t think she’d be able to handle the news.” I heard Silver say on the other side of the door. I place my ear gently on the door to hear more clearly. As a fae, I can hear from far distances but not much because of me being half human.

“My apologies, Lilia, but I have to agree with Silver on this one,” Says Sebek on the other side of the door.

“She is far too young, even by human standards, to know such heartbreaking information. I’m still in shock from the whole ordeal myself. It hasn’t even been fully processed in my head and I feel…conflicted and confused. I can only imagine her reaction when she finds out the news.” He continues, his voice straining slightly as he proceeded with his words.

“I understand. I cannot say that I agree with the idea of telling her so soon. But she does deserve to know. The entire kingdom of the Briar Valley will be in anguish and our friends will know nothing but grief for months.” Lilia says, although his voice sounds…cold. As if all emotion that could have been was washed away.

“Father, you can’t be serious. Give her another day.” I heard Silver insist.

“Another day of what? Locking her in her room with no knowledge of the truth and wallowing in confusion and concern?” Lilia snaps. “She must know… Malleus has reached that conclusion, even in his state of agony.”

“And what of our friends? Who will tell them?” Silver asked gently.

“We’ve already called upon them. Gather them to deliver the news. That way it’s easier for us all and we won’t have to repeatedly explain what happened. They will already be in the Briar Valley for the preparations, they at least deserve to see her one more time.” Lilia explained.

“I see…” was all Sebek said after that. A pause occurred for a moment, all I heard was their steady breathing.

“Princess, I know you’re there. You can come out now.” Lilia said nonchalantly. It startled me at first but not much. I reached for the doorknob and gently turned it. I opened it slowly into the castle hallway and stepped out of the threshold of my sleeping chambers. I peeked from behind the door over to the three guards. Silver and Sebek held gloomy expressions as they stared at me but Lilia had a gentle smile on his face. But if you look closely, his eyes…his deep crimson eyes…they were dull. Not out of anger or power, but of sorrow and emptiness. Yet that smile he holds is so melancholic. He holds it for me.

“Come with me, dear. Your father wishes to speak with you about something important.” He speaks gently as he stretches out his hand for me to take. I move away from the door and walk towards him hesitantly. I place my hand in his and he begins to gently lead me away. I look back behind me to Silver and Sebek. They seem beside themselves and void of light. I look forward once again, trying to think of the best. Lilia holds a smile on his face but he can’t hide his solemn emotions from me.

Lilia walks me up to the doors of my father's study. The room where he handles most of his Kingly duties by himself. Mother and I would sit with him near the fireplace and he would read us stories of the Briar Valley or I would find mother reading while my father worked on papers. They were inseparable for as long as I can remember. Even if father had to be gone long they would send letters. Even when mother would be gone to see uncle Ace and uncle Deuce in the Queendom of Roses, or going to the Sunset Savanna to visit Leona and Ruggie for royal occasions. No matter where they went, they would send each other letters. Their love is a bond that cannot be broken. Before mother’s health dropped she started to stay in the castle more often, then just a few months after, her health declined. I never understood why her health never seemed at its peak. When I would ask her or father they would change the subject. When I would ask Lilia, Sebek, or Silver, they’ll tell me not to worry and that it was not my concern for the moment. They said I’ll find out once I’m old enough. I always thought it was odd but I would listen to them. What else was I to do?

“Princess…your father asked me to tell you why your mother's health was always low. Would you like me to tell you now, or when you're older?” Lilia asked me abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts. I pause for a moment, not knowing how to answer. I simply shake my head. To others that would be a vague answer but to Lilia he fully understood. He nodded with a soft smile and released my hand from his.

“Tell me when you want to know. I just want you to be ready and calm. We all love you, Maelora. We just want you to be okay, safe, and happy.” He told me, his smile slightly fading. He gently knocks on the double doors of my father's study.

“Your father is in there waiting for you. Just open the doors when you’re ready.” And just like that, Lilia turned around without another word and walked away. I take a deep breath for a moment, trying to think about how to approach my father. I hesitantly put my hand on the doorknob and turn it. I slowly open the door and peek my head in. I saw my father standing in front of one of the windows, his back to me. I quietly step in and shut the door behind me. I take a few steps forward, the clicking of my shows being muffled by the giant dark green carpet that covered most of the stone flooring of the study.

“…father, you called for me?” I asked hesitantly. No reply from him back. This silent action made me more nervous.

“How’s mother? Is she doing any better?” I foolishly asked. I didn’t know what else to do. My father was never this quiet unless he was angered. I watched him for a moment and noticed that his hands started to tremble slightly. He was on the verge of collapsing and was visibly holding himself together by a thread.

“My dear Maelora, how do I say this to you?” He suddenly started, his voice slightly trembling. He turned around to face me, a soft smile plastered on his face. Yet his eyes were red and slightly puffy. He had been crying. His expression was one of pain and sadness.

“Sometime last night, your mother breathed your name. Then like a flame that flicked out too soon…far, far too soon, she…she died, she’s g-gone..” he tried to explain to me. Tears were streaming down his face and he collapsed to his knees on the ground. My eyes wide and in shock, not knowing what to do I ran over to my father. I kneeled to him and hugged him as much as my small arms could. My shock stopped me from crying, it hadn’t fully hit me. A shocking image for anyone to see: the Great Malleus Draconia on his knees, a mess, being consoled by his young, half-blood, daughter.

My father took a deep breath and looked at me even as tears covered his vision. His lime green eyes were now dark, his black hair slightly in disarray, and his smile holding nothing but pain. “She changed my life, she made my life worthwhile. Without her, I never would have known how great life can be. She taught me things I never would have learned. Not just about her world but about mine and she showed me that there are so many things wonderful about living. She has forever changed this kingdom for the better and there will never be another like her…but you. When you smile, I know a part of her lives on, I know the kingdom and I can go on.”

I smiled at my father as he placed a hand on my cheek. The tears now start to form in my eyes and a broken smile forms on my lips, knowing I will never see my mother again, knowing I will never hear her voice again. I wipe my father’s tears away gently.

“You have come of age with the new improvements of our dark nation. We’ll bleed and fight for you. Even if it seems that’s all we do, you and I together will build a strong foundation. I promise to be here for you, that way I’ll teach you how to blow them all away.” My father spoke as he wiped my tears with his thumb, still holding a smile on his face. Pulls me close and lifts me into his arms as he turns and we both look out the large window of his study that he had previously been looking through.

“Someday, yes my daughter, you’ll rule this kingdom as the first Half-blood Queen, and blow everyone away.”

~~~

I found it. The flower crown I had made for my mother all those years ago. I found it. I knew it was the same one from then because it was found outside the castle and the only flowers that hadn’t wilted were the green roses that were made from fathers magic. The only roses that grew in our special garden.

I walk up to my mother's grave, a beautiful statue of her befitting of a queen in place of a tombstone. I will never forget her voice, how she sang. How she and father would dance the nights away when they thought I was asleep. How she would whisper sweet nothings to me before I went to bed to assure me I am loved. She was nothing short of an angel.

I gently kneel and place the flower bouquet on her burial. “Hello again, mother. How are you today?” I ask her gently.

“Sorry I haven’t come to visit as of late. Leona insisted that I talk to him about matters between the Sunset Savanna and the Briar Valley since he and father got into another small quarrel. I can understand why you would visit the Sunset Savanna instead of father now, haha.” I told her as I stood up and placed the now fixed and renewed flower crown on the statue's head.

“In other news, the garden has gotten bigger. Father had it so the grounds would be extended and we could plant more bushes. You’d like it, I’m sure.” I continue to speak. The statue looked back at me with a gentle smile, a smile that resembled hers. But could never hold the same genuine warmth.

“…last night I had a dream. You were in it. You taught me how to dance the waltz-like the one you and father use to do. You sang me the song you and father used to sing together. It was like you were here again…” I looked into the statue's cold eyes. Eyes that looked like hers but would never hold the same life or light. I hesitantly reach out to place my hand on her face. It was cold and hard. Of course, it would be, it’s stone after all.

“You have her smile.” A voice suddenly spoke from behind me. A voice so familiar it’d be a crime if I didn’t recognize it. The voice that lead me all these years, even if he was busy with royal duties. I smile to myself and slide my hand away from the cheek of the statue.

Without turning to face him I ask, “Hello, father, how are you?”

“I’m perfectly fine. You were only gone for a mere few weeks, that’s nothing but a few days to me or even less.” He pauses as he steps closer.

“But to her…she would have said it was years. She couldn’t live without you close by. That’s why she took you with her for visits to wherever she went when she could.”

“I know, you told me that many times. No matter her state of health, she’d make time for her friends. Even more time for her family.” I reminisced. There is no other like her. So many people I have talked to. So many people who were kind and genuine. But her…she was different. It must be from the fact I am her child, but no one could match her light. Not to me. Not to my father. Not to our kingdom. She was like no other.

Father walks up next to me in front of the statue and places his hand on its head, careful of the flower crown I had placed on it. A melancholic smile on his face. I can see it in his eyes, the memories of him and mother flashing in his mind like it was yesterday.

A lingering question remains in my mind. A question I’m too afraid to ask in fear of an alternate answer from what I truly expect. But I ask it nonetheless; “…Do you blame me?”

The air tenses and I can now sense my father's eyes on me in confusion. So innocently he asks, “Blame you for what, my darling daughter?”

“Her not being here… Lilia told me the reason her health was always low. He said it was an after-effect of giving birth to me…” I continued. Lilia had recently told me the truth about my mother’s condition. I had been holding out on it but I got curious and now the thought of all of this being my fault couldn’t leave my mind. I needed an answer.

“My child. My only child. I indeed miss your mother dearly. She showed me that a world without pain doesn’t exist but a world with growth does. That is why I say now; it was not your fault.” My father said as he turned and gripped both of my shoulders.

“Your mother knew the consequences of having a child of fae - my child - a child so powerful it could kill her. She knew that no one of royal fae blood has ever had a human spouse, much less give birth to a half-blood royal fae child. She knew that there was a risk and she took it anyway, going against my and Lilia’s words of caution. We could not change her mind. She wanted you. She wanted us…as a family.” He continued, his lime green eyes staring into mine. Tears begin to well up, blurring my vision. I tried to hold them back but my father pulled me into an embrace and I started to bawl.

“Maelora Draconia, you are a gift. A gift that is more important to this world than they have yet to discover. Your mother loves you even in death. I will love you forevermore.” He smiles as he lifts my head to wipe away my tears.

“I miss her…” I say just below a whisper.

“I do too…” Father kisses me on my temple and moves his hands from my back. I grab his arm and turn the other way before waving to mother. As we walk away I strike up a conversation, just to break the silence. So I ask gently, “Father, do you mind telling me the story of how you met and fell in love with mother, again?”

“Not at all, my princess. It all happened, Once Upon a dream…”

#twst disney #twst #twisted wonderland #Diasomnia #Malleus Draconia #twst angst

[reyleese]

*** ACOTAR 5 THEORIES ***

So.. We all know of the three ancient siblings: the twins, the Bone Carver, the Weaver of the Wood, and the oldest, Koschei. Each of the, were “contained”/trapped by an ancient fae female (can’t remember who, please let me know if you do). Bone Carver was locked in the prison, the weaver had her powers diminished and she was stuck in the woods in the Middle. Then Koschei was trapped in the lake, he is also the suspected “big bad” of this upcoming half of the ACOTAR series.

There’s a lot of balance of threes in this series. The three objects Made by the Cauldron; the Mask, Crown and Harp. Then there’s the three Archeon sisters, Nesta, Elain and Feyre. In a way, each of the girls can be matched with one of the ancient siblings, and maybe even the Made objects, as each of these girls are also Made.

Feyre could be Koschei, the strongest of the siblings, trapped by the fae as she was in the very beginning of the series. Feyre was trapped by her life in many ways, but in a way essential to her transition into who she is today, she was trapped in the house by Tamlin, trapped Under the Mountain by Amaranthe, etc. Feyre is the crown, for very obvious reasons, like her being High Lady, but also her being the head of her household. She may be the youngest, but Feyre has been the head of her household since she was 11 and she had to save her family from starvation.

Nesta could be the Weaver, the one who literally devours the people who get close to her, which was part of Nesta internal struggle. The one who had a great portion of her power taken from her— the Weaver from the ancient fae, and Nesta’s was given back to the Cauldron— and stuck somewhere she didn’t choose. She is the mask. She’s put up more of a front to hide her feelings than either of her siblings.

And Elaine, the Bone Carver, who is the Seer— like Elaine— who is not as noticed or out in the world as their siblings are. The one who seems hidden, quiet. But the one who always knows more than what other people think they know. She is the harp. The otherwise beautiful instrument, the most beautiful of the sisters. Even her personality is softer, more appealing to others than anyone else, and yet, she is capable of incredible things. People underestimate the instrument of the harp.

Now, both the twins are “dead” thanks to the war in which Rhys and Feyre made bargains for their assistance against the King of Hybern. They were taken out by the Cauldron (if my memory serves). HOWEVER, Koschei, the oldest, is said to be deathless, but considering he and his siblings were here before the invention of the Cauldron, it’s possible they are susceptible to this new power, as the twins were. I wonder if, with all the objects of death could be wielded by one of each of the sisters, could they in a way combine their power with the power from the cauldron to kill Koschei. Especially considering the idea that the Made objects of the Cauldron are objects of death basically.

Secondary, theory that can either be separate from the first or part of it, but it was said that the three ancient being came from another world a long time ago, potentially a world much like Bryce’s. What if Bryce inadvertently brings with her some vital piece of information or something that ends up being of use to the Court of Dreams when Koschei comes along.

#acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acowar #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm #sjm universe #sjm multiverse #sjm fandom #sjm theory #sarah j maas #feyre archeron #feyre cursebreaker #rhysand #nesta archeron #elain archeron #bone carver #acotar 5 #crescent city #crescent city 2 #crescent city 3 #maas #maasverse #faerie

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

OC LOREDROP PRETTY PLEASE??

okayyy!!! i haveeeee soooooo many OCs, i'm going to talk about the ones from the fairy realm part in my story!!

right, so one of my deuteragonists from the previous part of the story, Hana Kaetsu, in the fantasy arc, accidentally gets sent to the fairy realm by reading a letter from a mysterious group mistakenly delivered to her, that was actually meant for her classmate Sybil Villin who's secretly a witch (she's pretty open about her interest in making potions and researching the supernatural and all that but ofc everyone just thinks she's interested in it cause. people don't generally believe in that anymore). anywayyyyy cause of Hana's little misadventure there, she because one of four people in her class who are now able to see ghosts and other supernatural creatures due to now having a connection with the supernatural. the other three are Sybil, ofc, cause she's a witch, her friend Naoki Himura because he managed to free and summon the ghost of their murdered classmate Ashley Atwell, and Ash herself cause. ghost

butttt before being able to return to the human world after Sybil, Naoki and Ash figured out what was going on when she suddenly disappeared (only they noticed that Hana had gone missing due to her disappearance being of supernatural causes, and them being the only ones around who have that experience- for everyone else, it's as if Hana never existed but they remember her again as if nothing happened after she returns), Hana met Sybil's "coven" (which is a gathering of witches, but they're not all witches, half of them are fae), the coven being the one who tried to address that letter to Sybil, wanting her back as she'd suddenly lost contact with them for a few years. where Hana ends up after being transported there is a village in the fairy realm called "Glacialisville" and the forests surrounding it, a slightly cold area that gets very snowy winters and not very warm summers, only about 25 degrees Celsius max. also quite windy and prone to storms

the coven consists of:

Lady Esmerelda- a forty-six year old witch who is basically the leader, currently the lady of the mansion they are based in, "Glacies Manor" though she doesn't own it, just looking after it until Rowan feels prepared enough to take on the responsibility. adoptive mother of Rowan and Dahlia

Rowan Leblanc- a nineteen year old witch. his bio mother was executed for being caught practicing witchcraft- her and her ancestors were the true owners of Glacies Manor and are a long line of very powerful witches (though are known for having slightly unstable magic compared to others), including a particularly infamous one...

Dahlia Leblanc- a seventeen year old vampire who was banished from the vampire realm, in which she was princess of one of the royal families. disowned due to not being considered a "real" vampire as she was born with an incredibly rare and tricky condition that made her highly allergic to blood

Marceline- a seventeen year old witch, old friends with Sybil and the one who set out to find her again. Marcy is incredibly skilled with a sword and plans to enrol into the uni below

Belle, Olivier and Ciel Krieger- twenty year old fairy triplets who attend an university that specifies in training future members of the fairy army with sword fighting, archery etc

Nixie- a seventeen year old unique type of fairy that can shape shift- however he can only turn into creatures that humans consider fictional, such as a unicorn, pegasus, phoenix, dragon, mermaid

Ghost- twelve years old, a type of fairy known as changeling who was switched into an awful family in the human world. Lady Esme found her and immediately saved and took her in after seeing how she was treated due to being fae. cannot speak due to having a damaged throat from that "family" trying to kill her by stabbing, prefers to mainly communicate through drawings and miming. is able to communicate with these jelly-like floating creatures around the forest who she often holds tea parties with

Lillie- a twelve year old witch who looks up to the older witches in the coven (Lady Esme, Marcy and especially Rowan due to him being very older brotherly) who is incredibly excited about becoming able to use controlled magic at thirteen (spoiler- doesn't happen, she's murdered four days before her thirteenth birthday)

need two more characters to make a whole "thirteen" for the coven feel, haven't thought of them yet

other major characters!! Dahlia and Marcy's college classmates, all also seventeen (well. probably not cause birthdays and all that but i haven't figured it out yet. they attend Glacialisville College of Arts, where they have compulsory English (mixed Lang and Lit), Maths and History + three or occassionally four creative subjects:

Vie von Vogelblut- a vampire who suffered similar trauma to Dahlia, being thrown out of the vampire realm due to disownment. he lives with his equally disowned aunt and her daughter, Rouge, who while technically his cousin, is more like his older sister. Rouge is four years older than him, twenty-one, and also goes to that army uni thing that the Krieger triplets go to. Vie is somewhat childhood friends with Dahlia, he's basically her second brother, she's his second sister. he takes Hair and Makeup, German, Creative Writing and Theatre

Raphael- a fairy who was immediately adopted into the group by the extroverted Dahlia and ends up being very good friends with Vie. Raffi takes Drawing and Painting, Photography and Arabic

Clarissa- a fiery fairy who's besties with Dahlia, frenemies with Vie. idk what she takes yet

Alexandrite- a witch who's particularly gifted with elemental magic. takes Drawing and Painting, Sculpture and Photography

Nora- a fairy who's rather wary of flying due to being visually impaired and there being less to feel in the air. she has a Golden Retriever called Leo as a service animal and she takes Violin, Creative Writing and Song Writing

Natalie and Amaryllis- a pair of fairy sisters who've been through some crap (father lured to death by a demon). they both get along well with Vie. apart from her sister and Vie, Amy's only friends with Dahlia and Alexandrite due to severe social anxiety and Nat's much more outgoing and on very good terms with most in college. Amy and Nora also wanted to be friends due to having similar fashion sense, however, there was a communication barrier due to Nora's visual impairment and Amy being selectively mute (so Nora wouldn't be able to read what Amy writes but at the same time, Amy's unable to speak to her) but!! they both decide to learn Morse code (Amy taps her messages onto Nora's hand) so they eventually get to get along. idk all the subjects the sisters take yet, but Nat does Photography as one of them and Amy takes Hair and Beauty (same class as Vie)

oh yeah i forgot about Dion- Clarissa's cousin, just kind of a bitch really

there's more but aaaaaaa i think. i've gone insane enough

#OH MY GOSHHHHH #ace's ocs :) #glacialisville book #original character #oc #asks answered by ace :)

[avionvadion]

Ya’ll, I forgot how absolutely wild twst lore was until I was showing my bestie twst comics because like-

Yes, the player is literally stopping characters from committing murder, creating what is essentially an apocalypse, and becoming a tyrannical villain, but also-

This student carries onions in his pockets! This other student is actually a retired war general that had to hatch a dragon egg because everyone else was too dead to do it, and then adopted and raised a human baby for the fun of it, and is now attending school with said two children just because he can! Another family had to intervene while he raised the human child because he doesn’t know the first thing about how to properly feed a baby!

Another student thinks eggs are unhatched baby chicks, and cries when he has to cook one! Another student talks about his dad all the time and how much he’s grateful for and loves him, and absolutely no one realizes he’s talking about the fae student that talks like an old man!

These three students makes a special skin moisturizer by squeezing the juice out of merfolk’s tails! (They take turns because they’re doing it to themselves.) And two of them belong to a mafia family, while the other has a mom that runs a cafe and was so charming she seduced her divorce lawyer into marrying her! What a woman! And that lawyer isn’t a step dad, he’s the dad that stepped up because he taught the student everything he knew about contracts! Which is now how the student makes his living conning people!

Another student built a robot replica of his dead brother to deal with his grief! His parents are totally okay with it and view the robot as a third bonus son! He stays in his room and plays video games all day, and is actually a technological genius! He has a unique magic that lets him open a very specific door.

Another student hunts other non-human students down for sport! He used to be in the survival of the fittest dorm, but another student that just so happens to be a celebrity model and actor had him put on a fancy jacket and now he’s in the dorm for hard work and pretty aesthetics!

This student is half-fae, and his mom is the daughter of an incredibly well known and respected general! Their bite strength is incredible- on par with crocodiles! His dad is a human dentist though… but another student finds his dad fascinating because he’s obsessed with teeth healthcare!

Another student’s idea of a fun time for everyone is kidnapping over half the student body, stopping time, and making them go a goose chase while pretending he’s possessed and playing the organ dramatically for their arrival as if he’s Ganondorf from Ocarina of Time! He didn’t realize non-humans would not enjoy this, even though it was Halloween. Also, he did all this because he felt bad for some ghosts.

It’s wild.

This game lore is so freaking wild and I love it.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yes you have to stop MURDER and an APOCALYPSE but hey!!! did you know?