#I just wanted raven in a feather cloak

[ottos-art-stash]

New OC

His name is Raven

#didnt get farther than that #i just really wanted to draw someone in a feather cloak #didnt even know he was a he until i was done #oc #raven

[unfriendly-aesop]

people were having trouble reading the names + i redid the opportunist's head

DESIGN PROCESS UNDER THE CUT

broken: given the shortest, smallest frame and the smallest wings; he is meant to appear small and delicate. his eyes are sullen but not despairing. his wings are small because he knows he will not fly away. his feathers drape down like a cloak, reminiscent of a priest's robes. he is done in the brightest colours to emulate the tower. his hands are clasped around the blade and held at his chest and throat to display his broken spirit.

hunted: given a scrappy, almost tattered look to give the imagery of a bird who has been caught over, and over again; but never killed. his feathers are dull greens to emulate leaves. there is a second, long feather in his tufts to emulate an ear canal like a rabbit, and he is the only design given none-front facing eyes. he is prey, and he knows it. his hands are covering his heart, protectively.

contrarian: given a rounded, friendly look. his feathers are formed to mimic a jester's cowl and puffy pants. the tufts of white feathers at the tip of his tufts are meant to mimic pompoms. his legs are rounded like a bird's at the ankles to give the impression of jester's shoes. his eyes are large and expressive, and his colours are some of the brightest like his personality. his hands are at his cheeks, almost giddy and giggling.

stubborn: one of the tallest, with squared off and rugged shape language. he has some of the thickest, and longest arms for fighting. his feathers are shaped to mimic a gentleman pugilist. one of his ear tufts is shorter than the other, and the other is tattered. his fists are ready for a fight. he's bulky to mimic the Adversary.

cold: he is small, but not because he is delicate or vulnerable. he has won, and finished his job. he has no wings, nor many visible features; he is very resigned. he mimics the look of plague doctors and ravens the most closely to emulate his association with death. he most closely emulates the Drowned Grey.

paranoid: one of the tallest, and streamlined designs. with white, skeletal patterns to mimic the Nightmare's mask and gloves. his ear tufts are down, and frightened, and his wings are raised to shroud himself away from the world. they are the largest; he wants to flee, and could, easily.

skeptic: his feathers are puffed out, and shaped to be like armour, or an executioner's garb (to parallel the Prisoner); he trusts nothing in the world. his ear tufts are made to mimic the shape of question-marks. his patterns are black-and-white; just like his thoughts on his surroundings. he has several eyes because he has several perspectives.

cheated: his feathers are shaped to be that of a medieval thief. his wings are puffed up and thrown out indignance, along with his hands and expression. his sharp, white feathers are meant to mimic the razor.

smitten: small but with a large personality. his mask is meant to mimic a heart, along with his chest plumage. his colours are some of the warmest, and brightest. his eyes are large and expressive. his ear tufts are meant to mimic the Burning Grey. his wings are large, but not for flight; but for display.

hero: thats you! the baseline

#slay the princess #if blacktabbygames sees this please do not reblog it <3 thank you so much for the game its been such a treat

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek V?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall!

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment?

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.”

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! This page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven?

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending.

Knowing this brought you much relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be.

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard.

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace.

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing.

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you must already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?”

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.”

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…”

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure.

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you.

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story.

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her like some sort of stalker, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense.

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!”

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason.

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass.

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming.

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!”

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathered fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow.

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger.

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke and caused you to freeze.

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.”

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne.

“Closer.”

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.”

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.”

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.”

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear.

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile.

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes.

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!”

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him.

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two.

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago.

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival.

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.”

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it.

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!”

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.”

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king.

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?”

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess.

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

#yandere #neige lubanche #neige leblanche #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good afternoon, Headmaster. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important. Uh…I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for giving me shelter and food and…Well, he's a lot to handle, but for letting Grim stick around too. I can't imagine life here without him. So, uh, yeah. That's all…Have a great day :) - Yuu

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

"My, isn't this a pleasant surprise!"

If Crowley was trying to act subtle, he was failing at it. It was plain to see the corrections in his posture as soon as the compliments were heaped onto him, his pallid face alight with intrigue.

The headmaster rose from his desk and approached you, arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture. His cloak and feathers flew back, opening like a pair of wings in the dead of night. For a second, you almost mistake Crowley for a real raven.

"Normally I would lightly admonish students for interrupting my crucial work as headmaster, however..." (You had clearly caught him in the middle of polishing his cane; there was an open container of wax and a cloth out.) "I recognize that, at times, we may be so moved, so taken aback, by others' generosity that we wish to declare our gratitude aloud! As such, I will humbly accept your adoration."

Crowley clapped a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm ecstatic that you've found a new companion in Grim-kun. He's such a pesky little... erm, I mean, he can be rather rambunctious every now and again, so it is a relief on my part that such a reliable beast tamer is watching over him! Your efforts allow me to free up my schedule to partake in my other important headmaster duties."

"Gosh, I'm glad I could be of help!" you replied.

"As am I, as am I!!" Crowley grinned broadly, his luminescent eyes sharpening into slivers. "May the bond you share with Grim-kun be ever stronger~"

#twisted wonderland #twst #Dire Crowley #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Reader #self insert #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk

[leanderfields]

I hope I’m not reading into this too much, but the way that the Touchstarved logo (with the characters) on the Red Springs Studios website and in the PV trailer is set up makes me think it’s not just an artistic choice. I know that the characters in the image have been rearranged in a different order for certain promotions, but I just want to talk about why I think the characters in the main logo are set up that way and what it could imply about Touchstarved’s routes.

As seen above, Ais is in the center with Leander on his right (our left) and Mhin on his left (our right). Behind him, there’s Kuras and Vere. Ais is obviously the poster boy for Touchstarved. He’s usually in the center for their promotional images and merchandise e.g. the game’s loading screen, the pins and the tote bag. The devs themselves have said that Ais was the first character they created and that they built the world of Eridia around him.

There’s lots of theories floating around about Leander’s design which features Ouroboros, his eye bags, motifs of life and death, his white lilies, and lots of other things. His belt in particular features a triple goddess symbol which represents stages of womanhood as the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone. The Maiden is associated with beginnings– so things like (re)birth, youth, exploration, etc. The Mother is associated with, well, motherhood but also power and stability. The Crone is the opposite of the Maiden, being associated with death. I’m sure there’s already theories on his belt and this symbol, but I think personally Leander only represents one of them in the grand scheme of things.

I think Leander, Ais and Mhin respectively represent the Maiden, Mother and Crone. Despite Leander’s death motifs, I feel like him being the Maiden is fitting because of his personality and character design. His coat is green and so are his eyes and magical flowers. Green is the color of life. Though his flowers are typically used for funerals in some cultures, flowers themselves are full of life. He even comments that they don’t last long, but they’re beautiful nonetheless. As life is. Secondly, Leander’s personality is, perhaps, the liveliest among the cast. He’s always upbeat and smiling (or blushing) which is why I think he represents the Maiden. He’s what you’d think of when you think of youth. He’s partying, drinking, performing magic tricks, has a club/the Bloodhounds and he seems to be having fun all the time.

As for Ais, I feel like it's pretty understandable that he is the Mother. He’s marketed as powerful, violent and intimidating. He loves bar brawls and hates easy fights. Additionally, it’s implied that he used to be a leader or at least in a gang. Red is a predominant part of his character and design. The Seaspring is red. So are his horns, eyes and the accents on his clothes. Red is, well, a powerful color. It represents powerful, strong emotions like love and anger. And emotions are a big part of Ais’s character. They’re his fatal flaw!

And finally, Mhin is the Crone. I was actually debating whether they were the Maiden (and Leander would be the Crone) since they were fairly new to Eridia like MC… like a new beginning in a new city? I’m going on a tangent here, but I think it may be deliberate on the devs’ part. Leander and Mhin could possibly represent the Maiden and the Crone because life and death are intertwined.  Mhin has a celtic knot/triquetra on their cloak’s clasps. The triquetra is used to represent three things that are deeply connected e.g. the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. In pagan traditions, it’s used to represent the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone… like the triple goddess symbol on Leander’s belt. Anyways back to Mhin, I think the Crone suits them the best. Their supposed monster form is either a crow or a raven. Black feathered birds are associated with bad omens. Moreover, crows and ravens are associated with death thanks to pop culture and media. Our first encounter with Mhin was when we were at death’s door. They also shroud themselves with a cloak, have white hair and are extremely pale when compared to the rest of the cast.

The way Leander, Ais and Mhin are set up in the logo makes me want to believe that they’re representing the triple goddess symbol and that at least story wise, they may be the most important routes. They’re placed at the front and all three characters have something to do with curses. Leander knows his way around curses. He might be cursed himself. His eye bags are pointed out by MC and he doesn’t seem to be that fond of sleep either. Ais technically doesn’t have a curse, but the last two lines of his character introduction are “He’s beginning to suspect that he may not be in control of his powers as he thought. Can you save each other, or will he drag you into the abyss with him?”... which sounds like a curse to me. And aside from Leander, is also the only one to know about MC’s curse. Then, for Mhin, they also have a curse of their own and have been seen sneaking around the Senobium… possibly for a cure of their own?

This isn’t to say that Vere and Kuras aren’t important and relevant characters. It may just be the typical thing with otome games where certain routes have more lore than others and it’s recommended to save them for last. It’s usually the poster boy’s route. In this case, Ais’s.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved theory #mine:rambles #leander #ais #mhin #is this a hot take? #lol maybe #i just needed to get it out of disc now that i have a sideblog #i actually have something for kuras and vera but i need to finish writing a fic first haha

[bucknastysbabe]

A day in the life of ✨Ser Criston Crispin Cole✨

The bestest kingsguard to ever and he doesn’t break vows or kill innocent people but has trauma and ptsd and a big throbbing ahem

Rating: Everyone

Tags: this is silly goofy, I even made some visuals, Criston rounds up the Targtowers, I finally gave a name to Aemond’s twin, Aemond’s irrational fears, Incel Knight has Issues, Aegon being a creature per usual.

Tagging some fools: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemonddtargaryen @fairysluna @arcielee @bambitas (ur man is trying)

“You what?,” he echoed to Aegon, laid out in the streets of Flea Bottom. While Aegon did appear as a piece of scud needing to be scraped off the cobblestone— Ser Criston gleamed in his armor and white cloak. White horse too. White horse armor. Totally not to overcompensate for anything like oath breaking and other heathenry.

The scud with blonde hair rasped, “I fucked an Ibbenese whore, she was a sight! You should’ve seen her hair, the bush, I needed a Dragonkeeper.” Criston held up his hand to silence the fool, growing disgusted. The prince laughed before vomiting right on the kingshorse’ lacquered hooves.

Ser Cole stared blankly, dreaming of nasty, awful things. That may include something along the lines of murder. Again. He didn’t mean to, okay? Criston got off the equine and kicked Aegon once for good measure. The idiot squawked, “Ow, fuck, I just emptied my guts! Hold on!”

The Dornishman ignored his prince’s whining and slung the wannabe jester up onto the hind of the horse. He sighed in annoyance, climbing back upon the destrier and riding back towards the keep. Aegon started up with a hoarse laugh. He rasped, “Y’know a little hair doesn’t hurt anyone Cole, I know you prefer yours on the Valyrian- CRISTONNNN!”

Criston smirked a bit having reached back and backhanding the Prince. Lovely Alicent granted him ‘any means possible’. Which mean he got to slap around Aegon for fun. It was quite a stress-reliever, truly. The eldest prince continued, “I’m still the prince you can’t just,” then again he was smacked in quick succession, “FUCKING QUIIIITTTT!!”

Ser Cole held back a chuckle at Aegon’s sniveling. They reached the keep now, Criston hauling the heir inside. Aegon whined, “Jus’ take me to my room you beast!” The brunette sighed, “No can do, you smell like the inside of a whaling barge. Since you enjoy fucking Ibbenese.”

“Don’t knock it til’ you try it,” the prince grumbled.

He was swiftly deposited into the baths. Criston felt he need to change his clothing now, the filth of Aegon smeared all over his clothes, horse, and soul. Yuck. He could die, honestly. Really wanted to awhile back but Alicent took pity and so forth.

The man ran a hand through his hair. He needed to go to the rookery now. Criston maintained a long-standing chat with the youngest prince, Daeron. The boy seemed to be relatively ‘normal’ compared to the rest of the Hightower Dragon breed. Smart, valiant, knowledgeable, lacking that murderous instinct and eternal burning fire of hatred that Criston and Aemond shared. The kid was off to a good start already.

Criston looked through the plethora of ravens once he arrived, shoving off the Maester trying to help. He knew their raven— it had a strange white feather on the left wing. He smiled when he spotted the feather in question, cheering, “Aha, told you.” The Maester grumbled under his breath. Criston ignored it.

But the Maester did say in case the reader was curious: “Oathbreaking dornish viper curly haired pretty face bitch monger of marcher spawn.”

Meanwhile the Kingsguard unrolled the little letter and read with a soft curl of his lips.

“Dear Ser Criston,

I hope to be able to see you at the next tourney, I heard about you rendering Breakbones to Brokenbones! How amazing your skills are. I hope to be as good as a jouster and knight as you one day….blah blah blah

I hate to ask this but the question has been at my mind. Mother may have got very intoxicated her on her visit with Gwayne and I a fortnight ago now? She may have slipped in a rant of anger? Not at you though. But I must inquire, family to family, I consider you Ser as family. Even if we have never met!

Did you actually bed Rh—nyr-?

No need to answer if I have offended, have a splendid day good Ser! xoxo Prince Daeron Targaryen.”

Criston’s smile slipped into a frown. He gazed blankly into the mid-distance. Then stepped towards the nearest opening.

He stepped back and sighed. That felt better. He turned to the Maester scattered on the floor, apologizing. Criston tried to hold a hand out for help but the little man hissed, “You have problems Ser! I do not need those demons that haunt you!”

Well. The prick wasn’t wrong. Criston had other things to tend to. He probably should go see Helaena and the children now. The white knight was a busy sort and not even Lord Commander! He could draw pride from that, standing a little taller after the blow in the letter.

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera played on the floor with a handmaiden. Criston took a moment to pause. Aegon must’ve named the children. Why didn’t he get somewhat creative? He paused again. Helaena would’ve likely named the twins Spider and Spiderette so he’d just move on now, yep, nothing new with the Hightower Targaryens.

He looked at the handmaiden and inquired, “Where is the princess?”

She pointed to the opened door to the balcony. Criston sighed and walked out there to see her leaning precariously over the sides. His eyes widened and he ran over to yank her back. Helaena shrieked and yelped, “Do not move your feet! Don’t!” She still was in his arms, legs jerked up as she frantically looked around.

Criston stayed still, out of fear of whatever bug or creature’s life. If he were to accidentally squish it— oh gods the girl would be bedridden for a week. Helaena whispered, “You messed me up! I almost had her!” The knight replied drily, “Had who, my princess?” The princess went on to ramble about some sort of Summer Isles beetle.

Criston just stood like an idiot until there was a creeping on his neck. He hissed urgently, “I believe you should check my nape for your creature!”

Wide eyes stared. “Your what?”

“The fucking beetle is crawling on me! I do not wish to die a violent death princess!”

“Oh!”

The legs on his neck were removed and Helaena cradled a fierce looking orange beetle. Criston lowered her gently down, backing away. She chirped, “That would’ve hurt worse than three arrows sticking out of your head.” Criston shivered as blank eyes flicked up at him before back down to her pet. Now he was fit to ruin his breeches. Helaena sometimes scared him witless.

“Thanks Ser Cole, you did end up helping. The children are alright if that’s what you inquire,” she murmured while walking inside, him following her indoors. Criston nodded, still feeling strange. The princess smiled, “I need to return this beauty to her enclosure, thank you!”

He might have walked a little faster than what was reasonable out there. The arrows comment worried him more than the time she told Criston he should beware a ball of Butchers. He had no clue what the hell she meant but whatever! The dornishman would like to die without arrows or anything like a ball of butchers but that was up to the gods.

He sighed and decided to head to his quarters to rest a moment— he rarely received any these days. Criston wearily plodded to his cot and flopped down, just closing his eyes a bit.

SER CRISTON WAKE THE HELLS UP!

Criston sat upright, swinging at whatever was yelling at him, eloquently replying, “Baahmnnfhgh!” He stopped swinging when Aemond’s twin Valaerys cursed, “I’m not the damn villian, come with me!” She held out a gloved hand and he let the younger princess lead him out of the White Sword tower at a breakneck pace.

“Val, what is exactly the matter here, why are we running!”

She hollered over her shoulder, “Aemond is about to take off on his beast because he got a letter!”

“A letter? That’s silly!”

They took the hidden stairs down to the beaches. Val, Criston’s reluctant favorite, elaborated, “A letter from the bastards, asking about his fear of birds, and they may have put a dead bird in a package? I don’t know he was yelling and squawking all over the place!”

The knight exhaled sharply. He gets good sleep for once and it’s expended on the second son getting his feelings hurt. Well. Cole did kill a man for reminding him of his own hurt feelings. But that’s beside the point, he was sad okay? He felt like a dirty whore that night. No one needs to be the dirty whore!

“Okay, so Aemond’s supersized ego has been punctured because the bastards are aware of his fear of birds? Are you being serious Val?”

She stopped him dead in his tracks and hissed, “When am I not serious Cole? Really? Come on.”

Criston tried to hold back an erection. She was a force when angry. Alas, Valaerys was too young, too outside of his OATH, too hot in a pair of leather leggings- oh Godsdammit. He blinked the thoughts away and followed her to the beach head.

They stopped in their tracks to watch the second son holler at the sea, long blonde hair flipping to and fro. Criston and Val shared a look, watching the scene unfold of Aemond practically hopping in anger, hands fisted.

Criston recognized too much of himself in the angry lad. He hollered, “Quit yelling and come over here!” Aemond stopped throwing his fists and turned sharply. He hissed, “This has nothing to do with you two!”

Criston crossed his arms and replied, “Yes it does, your angry actions could affect the King’s health. I am the Kingsguard and therefore need you to come over here.” Val added on, “And you look like a crazed lunatic yelling at the ocean. Reminds me of the time Uncle Daemon got banished. Again. Rolling in the ocean weeping and such.” Criston grimaced at the thought of the melodramatic Prince, perverted freak.

Okay maybe he was one too but he slipped up once! Stop judging him!

Aemond huffed and stomped over, thin lips turned down as he glared. His lanky arms were firmly crossed over his chest. The prince managed, “I’m not afraid of birds. They’re fucking with me. I need to shame them and their puny dragons.”

Criston clasped a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, sighing, “You are afraid of birds, it’s alright son. But don’t go on the beast to burn Dragonstone, you’d be a bit outnumbered. Besides you’re much better a sword fighter and leader than those mongrels.” Valaerys nodded in agreement, braids bouncing.

Aemond took a look at the ocean and back to Criston, scoffing, “You’re right, I shouldn’t lower myself to childish antics. Oh and Cole, don’t move please. I think she smelt Dornish.”

Criston stiffened up suddenly. When did he not notice the looming figure and hot breath flapping his hair and cloak around. Val stifled a giggle, merlot eyes flashing. Vhagar’s big old ass was right behind him, ready for some scorched dornishman. Criston whispered angrily, “Get your damn dragon Aemond! That thing still thinks we’re in a war and you’re Visenya minus an eye!”

Aemond scoffed indignantly, “Vhagar is much smarter than that! She chose me!,” the blonde grumbled, “She does probably smell Dornish. Apologies Cole.”

Val snickered again before jolting upright when Vhagar made a particularly hungry noise. Aemond hollered at the thing in High Valyrian, waving his arms and pointing back to her spot carved on the beach. Criston shivered, eyes darting to the dragon and back to the princess.

The dragon snarled and huffed, Criston wincing before he heard heavy footfalls and the dragging of her tail. Vhagar was leaving the trio alone. The white knight swore on the Seven he would NEVER be that close to that BEAST ever AGAIN.

Aemond smiled, “There we are, didn’t need the help but here we are. Good night Ser Criston, night my sweet hell bitch sister.” Val rolled her eyes and made a bird noise, flapping her arms at the man. Aemond sniffed and hustled away, a certain stiffness to his posture. He’d go do…whatever Aemond did in his spare time.

Criston let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and sagged. He looked at Val’s amused expression and mumbled, “You got any problems?” She procured a wine-skin from under her dark cloak and hummed, “Some wine that needs to be emptied. Let’s get out of here before Vhagar decides to have a Dornish snack. I don’t think I have the skill to play Rhaenys.”

He shot back as they entered to tunnels, “You’re much too mean to play her. Anyways what’s the vintage?”

“Dornish Sangria, what else would you think,” she said, raising a sharp brow. Criston eyed Valaerys and praised the princess, “See, this is why you’re my favorite. Don’t have to deal with nonsense. I almost threw up on Aegon. Horrid.”

“Do tell me all about your wonderful day, probably more interesting than mine good Ser.”

They sat on a ledge, far away from Vhagar, and shared the wineskin. Criston felt okay with his day, nothing much but honest work. Somewhat. One can never be fully honest in the Red Keep. He took a sip and the corners of his lips turned up.

#hotd fanfic #criston cole x reader but its not developed yet #Ser Criston Cole #coles day in the life #daeron targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #hightower targs #cringefails here there and everywhere

[autistpride]

Autism Acceptance

Prompt day 3: April 3

Historical AU

Word count: 1010

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus sat on the wall that he was told to sit on. He wanted to be good. He did. He sat there like he was told and didn't move. 

His da had woken with him early that day and like they had for the last few weeks, walked the trail from the house to the forest. 

But this time they turned down a different trail. Remus hadn't wanted to go down that path, it wasn't the one they always did that eventually looped back towards their small home.

Yet his father insisted with a tight hand on his forearm until Remus eventually followed.

But he started to get bored and he needed to wiggle. He wanted to go, to go back to his mam and his wooden animals. 

That was until the bird landed next to him. It strutted around for a bit and then started to walk away. Remus wanted to follow the Raven that was walking around. Where was it going? What was it doing? Look! How pretty were its dark feathers when the sun's rays danced over them. 

So he did. He scooted to the edge of the wall and let his legs dangle for a moment before dropping to the ground. He landed awkwardly and made a loud yelp before he started to follow the bird. Getting down low to see at the same level as it was. 

"Who's there?" A voice called out from the trees. 

“I think you're hearing things, Sirius. No one is there,” another voice replied.

“Sirius is just wanting an adventure James,” another voice replied. 

“James, no I heard something right through here,”  Sirius said and rustling of leaves and crunch of sticks could be heard before a person pushed their way into the small clearing followed immediately by another.

“See! I was right!” Sirius crowed. 

The loud shout caused Remus to scream and cover his ears. 

“Yes yes you were right. Don't boast Sirius,” James said back as he gave Sirius a slight shove.

Peter laughed loudly, holding his ribs. 

Remus pushed himself until his back was against the wall and he curled up, leaving hands over his ears and his eyes darting back and forth in fear.

Suddenly it was eerily silent.

“Sirius, we shouldn't be here. This place is forbidden. It's for the fae.” Peter said in a hurried whisper trying to pull Sirius back out of the clearing.

“Then why is that boy there?” Sirius asked as he ignored James' warnings and moved towards the boys huddled on the ground.

“My da explained that this is where the peasants leave their children that are changelings. If they leave them here, the fae will give them back their own child that they took and take theirs back” James said, trying to tug on Sirius' cloak.

“You mean people just leave their kids here and they…” Sirius started leaving his question unspoken as his eyes widened.

James nodded softly. “They really think that and if we interfere, when they come back tomorrow to get his body and it's not here they will be stoned and then cast out of the village as proof that they were not worthy of their child or even the changeling one. That they are cursed.” 

“But why would anyone think their child is a changeling?” Sirius asked as he slowly crept closer to the boy on the ground.

James shrugged but stood frozen to his spot.

Peter whispered, “they don't they just know something's wrong with them and leave them here because they aren't right.”

“Well that's really wrong,” Sirius exclaimed before bounding over to Remus, almost puppy-like.

Sirius cocked his head and looked at the boy. He looked no different than him, his brother Regulus, or James. He just was poor. His clothes were basically rags and his skin was dirty. His curls were wild and untamed and his hair was caked in mud. When the boy looked up at Sirius, his eyes were almost golden and Sirius gasped. They were the prettiest eyes he had ever seen.

Remus started at Sirius and Sirius stared back. 

Sirius smiled and Remus grinned back.

“He's coming back with us” Sirius eventually announced and stood to his feet. 

“Is that such a good idea?” Peter questioned 

“Aye!” Sirius said with a grin and took the peasant boy's hand and pulled him to his feet. “Sirius. James. Peter.” Sirius said pointing to himself and then James and then Peter. The boys waved their hands slightly when their name was called out. “Do you have a name? What are you called?”

Remus didn't reply instead he kept his hands over his ears and looked around before staring intensely at Sirius and then rocking on the balls of his feet. The sun shone through the trees and landed in Remus' eyes. He squinted and moved his head to try to get away from the brightness.

“That's why he was left” Peter said pointedly.

“Nonsense!” Sirius exclaimed. “He just doesn't light the sun in his eyes.” 

“We are also rather boisterous,” James added.

Sirius nodded and grinned and lowered his voice while he unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around Remy's shoulders, pulling the hood up to shield his eyes from the glaring light.

Remus slowly lowered his hands. He kept rocking but his hands started to move up and down by his torso.

“See he's happy now!” Sirius said in an excited whisper.

“Remus” Remus said repeating himself two, three, and then four times.

“Is that your name?” James asked.

“Pleased to meet you Remus” Sirius said. “Come on Remus, let's go have tea.” 

Sirius took Remus' hand and left the clearing.

James looked at Peter who shrugged and they both followed after the pair. 

No one questioned when the little lord brought home a peasant boy and insisted he would live with them from now on.

Despite the rumours that circulated, no one who knew the pair would ever say that Remus was unintelligent. Sirius just did all the talking and Remus, well he did all the thinking. 

#mauraders #my writing #wolfstar #autistic remus #autism acceptance #autism acceptence month

[bnuuys-writing]

Chapter Four. Masquerade.

Here is chapter four! I hope yall enjoy!! <3 I also didnt add in Malleus' backstory bc i havent read it and I want to correlate it with the phantom's. I can always come back and edit it in but for now; enjoy! <3

~Bnuuy out!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four(You are here!), Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Leona's Ending, Malleus' Ending

Swirling, twirling, fanning and spinning. Thumping, bumping and cheers. Colorful and monochrome, animal or object. Welcome to the Masquerade! The crowd was buzzing with excitement within the opera house as everyone was more than delighted to have an invitation within the golden lined house to drink and dance all their worries away. Lilia could only smile as he sipped on his wine that barely affected him any, afterall; he is an old fey and such human liquor could barely bother him. His bat-like wings of a mask helped his amber eyes look even more ominous as his black tailored suit hugged onto his form as he looked down at his two boys; Sebek and Silver, who were dressed as a black swan and the other a white swan. Both boys had received a letter from your arrival and they were anxious to see you once more.

It's been months that the Diasomnia Trio has seen you, after you had moved in with your now engaged partner, Leona Kingscholar, and they were all more than happy to see your form swirling amongst the large crowd as your outfit was as bright as a shining star. While Leona’s was very similar to a Lion before the hunt, which you had recommended to him which caused his nonexistent ears to flick in irritation. Well, at least you remembered one about him back from NRC… Yet, he couldn't seem to help you at the moment as your eyes seemed to scan the crowd as if trying to find something- or perhaps someone?

“Why must we hide our engagement? It's not a crime, you know Y/N…” Leona grunted out as he scanned the crowd to see if he could find that pesky lizard anywhere. Afterall, he promised to keep you safe from Malleus and out of the Opera house, yet here both of you are. That pesky old bat was staring down at you two, Sebek as the black swan posted on his left and Silver as the white swan on his right; it irritated him down to the bone to see their judgmental eyes upon his form. He knew they were scheming something in hopes of bringing you back to the Opera Dormitories to get you back to their master, and he would put a stop to it today.

Like hounds, the swans began to descend the stairs only to be stopped by the large mass of a crowd in which Leona was for once, very grateful for it. Leona was quick to get you out from their gazes as he pulled you out to the dancefloor, pulling you into a fast paced waltz that he found himself tiring out more quicker than usual. He wasn't one for dancing, or parading in fancy outfits like Vil was. Though, as he opened up his mouth to chat with you, a large flash of green smoke appeared on top of the staircase where Lilia was just residing who was now closer than the soldiers had gotten to the two of you. As for who has just arrived to the party without much of an invitation?

A large slender man stood on top of the stairs, a feathered hat on top of his head as a black laced mask was covering half of his face as his bright green eyes found you immediately amongst the crowd. Your eyes could only trail over his form in shock as his shoulders were pleaded with raven feathers as his clothes were a mix of a dark forest green, decorated in embroidered golden roses amongst his pants as his chest was jeweled with many golden threads threaded with stars like diamonds. Emeralds dangled from his ears as his lace mask held another on the crown of his head while the last emerald you could see was resting on his jugular notch. His cloak billowed behind him as he began to speak, slow but enough to get you under his spell once more.

“Why so silent?” He spoke, a raised eyebrow following as he looked amongst the shocked crowd, the only ones who weren't shocked in the arrival of the mysterious Phantom of The Opera was his fellow soldiers and councilor. “Did you think that I had left you for good?” Malleus was quick to glance over at Azul, Floyd and Jade who all looked equally shocked, as the trio of them wore their respective merform as their masquerade outfit. Two slimy eels and an octopus. 

“Have you missed me?” Malleus could only chuckle as he looked over at Sebek and Silver who stood at attention to their Master, though none of them spoke as Malleus’ gaze turned towards the crowd as his emerald eyes trailed over every single face. Some were scared, others impressed but still scared and others who looked on the verge of passing out, while he met the stoic face of Vil and Rook who seemed on edge but trying to remain composed. “I have written you an opera… Here I bring the finished score.” As he tossed the binder of papers at Vil in which Rook stepped in quickly to catch it to prevent His Queen from getting hurt.

“Fondest greeting to you all, a few instructions before rehearsal starts. Vil Shoenheight but be put to act, not his normal trick of strutting around the stage.” Malleus was cold in his statements as his gaze flickered back to Rook while hearing Vil’s offended gasp. “Our Don Juan must forgo his accent, it's not interesting for a man who isn't French.” HIs cold stare left Rook’s offended smile as he turned his head to his managers next.

“And my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts.” Slowly turning around as he didn't care to even look at Azul’s offended face, Floyd’s irritated scowl and Jade’s stoic face. “As for our star; Y/N L/N…” Malleus’ eyes finally met with yours as your body seemed to freeze in place, your hand didn't feel warm anymore as your eyes flickered to your side only to show that your Fiancé, Leona, had left your side. Disgruntled, your eyes locked back with your Phantom’s as he seemed in awe of your form this night, breathless at your shining grace.

“No doubt they’ll do their best, yes their voice is good; they know this. Yet, should they wish to excel, they still have much to learn, if pride would let her return to me; her Teacher…” He paused as he began to walk down the stairs towards you. You could feel the world slowly swallowing you alive as the pathway was formed straight to you as the large slender man got to you. He was just in awe of you, Afterall; you were his little Child of Man… Yet, his eyes flickered down to the ring around your neck, an engagement ring… Rage flared in his chest as he let out a puff that you swore you could’ve seen green flames coming out from his nose, roaring angrily as he lunged forward with his hand and ripped the diamond off of your neck.

“Your chains are still mine, you belong to me!” Quickly in another burst of flames, sparks flying out once more as if they were like fireflies coming towards you to hug you in its embrace, as a loud THUMP could be heard as you watched your fiancé jump down the hole that your phantom had disappeared to. Leona was lost within the maze of spinning mirrors, sword drawn as he slashed at anything that looked like that damn lizard, an irritated growl coming from his throat as he slashed a few more times before a noose dropped down in front of him. It was quick before a hand was on his shoulder did he spin around only to see an irritated looking bat which began to lead him out from the maze of mirrors he found himself in.

It was another few months since that incident, you had not been well in the mind after your engagement ring was taken from the Phantom, always seemingly back in that daze of time passing by like a blur. Perhaps it was time to start fresh again? Time to visit a certain someone who was very dear to you, perhaps… Groaning softly as you roused yourself out from your sleep, shifting around in the bed as you looked outside. The sun had just risen but it was hard to tell by all the chilly frosted air and low hanging clouds that hugged the pavement outside.

Grabbing your cloak and passing by a sleeping Leona who was stationed right outside of your room, keeping guard that no Diasomnia freak would come and snatch you out from his arms. As you descended down the stairs and outside into the chilly air, you met the carriage driver with a simple request and enough gold to pay for the trip.

“To my fathers grave, please and thank you.”

As you turned around to grab a few things for the visit to your fathers grave, a certain masked figure took over as he put the carriage driver under a small spell as he took their place. As you returned back to the carriage, climbing in and resting now in your forlorn state. The cloaked figure turned ever so slightly just to glance down at you before urging the horses forward. Not to far away, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver stood amongst the lonely streets as they watched their Master drive the carriage with the future Royalty of Briar Valley. A small nod from Lilia urged the other two to begin walking away as a panicked Leona rushed outside. 

“Y/N!” Leona shouted out urgently, noticing the carriage was gone that they shared, only to see their driver waking up in a pile of hay. “Where did they go! Tell me now!” Leona roared out, grabbing the driver who could only grumble out his response.

“To the cemetery sir…” 

That was enough for Leona to turn tail, grabbing his white horse with no time to prepare a saddle or not even a bridle. Jabbing his feet into the sides of the horse, they took off after the carriage that was far too gone for them to attempt to catch up. He needed to cut across the land in hopes of getting to you before Malleus could put a clawed hand upon your skin.

You were lost in thought as you stepped outside the carriage, the frosted land greeting you with chilly arms and becoming you inside the cemetery. Your basket filled with roses that you kept getting with green bows tied ever so neatly on them, an apple as an offering for the dead in the afterlife, and a silver dagger for protection.

Cold monumentals, hooded figures looming over graves, angels and cherubs carved into the stone. The only thing within your glazed over eyes and foggy mind was your father, how your father promised you to send an Angel to you. Yet, all you have gotten was months of turmoil of if you were doing the right thing or not, ignoring the Phantom and continuing your engagement to your lover, Leona. Or to return to the Opera House, resume your studies of your voice with your Angel of Music, and leave Leona. You couldn't have made a choice, even if you really wanted to. 

The soft crunch of snow mixing in with the stone pathway was all you heard underfoot as jack frost seemed to waltz with you across the cemetery, keeping your nose and cheeks flushed as gentle snowflakes seemed to fall off the weeping angels and into your hair as you found yourself kneeling down at the steps of your fathers grave. So lost, helpless as you yearned for your fathers light once more. As you were lost within your mind, a voice started up and broke you out from your dazed state. 

“Wandering child, so lost, so helpless. Yearning for my guidance.” 

“Angel or father, friend or phantom, who is it there staring?” You replied, tears in the corneas of your eyes, ready to drip down your cheeks as you felt as a loss. 

“Have you forgotten your angel?”

“Angel, oh, speak, what endless longings. Echo in this whisper…” Slowly standing up, basket of roses, the apple, and your blade long forgotten as you watched the doors to your fathers grave slowly open wide, a flicker of a green light beckoning you in.

“Too long you’ve wandered in winter, far from my gaze.”

“While my mind beats against you (you resist), but my soul obeys!” Slowly, as if under another subservient spell again, you slowly begin your trek up the stairs as you attempt to resist the beckoning voice, hoping deep within your mind that someone will stop you before you reach this ominous looming room. Your heart was racing as you continued forward up the stairs, your mind begging you to stop your feet in hopes of trying to turn around and run, pick up your dagger and fight- Something that isnt following this voice that has you under its control!

With a sharp tug, Leona was there to pull you against his chest, snapping you out from the spell this being had you in. With ease, you were set off to the side as Leona’s arm raised up, sword in hand, as an all too familiar figure jumped from the roof with a sturdy clang! Between swords.

A gasp of air came from you, as if you were no longer underwater and you were gulping down air fast as you watched these two figures fight. Sparks were flying as swords clashed together, stone was cut causing even more sparks to get sent flying. Leona had finally had enough of this damn lizard trying to tear away his happy ending and was determined to kill him- get him OUT of this story! Or even better, get him out of life! Afterall, Malleus was more weakened due to the fact of the book causing him to be more magically inept. 

The clatter of swords continued as you could only watch in shock and horror as you attempted to regain your mindset from out of the brainfog you were finally freed from, as well attempting to regain your breath from whatever spell was just casted upon you. Leona roared out in pain as Malleus was able to strike his arm, a smirk plastered upon his face as he watched the red crimson blood splatter across the snow and marbled stone in victory. Though the battle was not over just yet as Leona let out a roar, swinging his sword with such ferocity that knocked Malleus’ sword from his hand. With a kick, Malleus was knocked into marbled stone as he was now at Leona’s hand, sword raised and ready to plunge down into Malleus’ heart. Emerald glaring into Light green slitted eyes as Leona began the plunge down.

“NO!” A scream ripped across the graveyard as Leona’s blade stopped, millimeters above Malleus’ throat as his eyes looked up at your own. Tears had begun to drip down your cheeks at the thought of having to watch your lover kill someone, Phantom or Angel, it did not matter.

“Don't… Please, Leona…Not like this…” You whispered out, staggered as you had raced down to them from the stairs in your lightheaded state. Disgruntled that he couldn't kill his sworn enemy, he sheathed his sword with ease as he made his way over to you, easily swooping you up into his arms into a bridal carry as he made his way back to his horse. Adding salt to the wound by kicking some snow into Malleus’ face as he threw you onto the horse, then getting up himself, before you both raced out of the cemetery. 

Now, Malleus was seething. Granted, he had just been saved by your hand but only out of the pity of Leona’s love for you. Hissing with his forked tongue, eyes glaring after the two of you as he looked up at his clever plan having failed once more.

“Now… Let it be war upon you both…” Standing up, and with a snap of his fingers, he disappeared in a trail of fireflies back to the Opera House as a meeting was set up that very night to discuss how to get rid of their clever friend.

Vil, Rook, the Tweels, Azul and Leona were all there, having purposefully kept the Diasomnia minions out of their meeting and not even bothering to send Malleus an invitation. Sitting at a table, every crack sealed so that no Phantom or Minion can listen in on their conversation as Vil started.

“We must finish the story otherwise we will be stuck here with no way out. As much as I like being in the lead for once, I have no proper skin products here, nor easy accessible magic!” With some nods from the others in the room, Leona was the one to huff in annoyance.

“I will not put Y/N in harm's way- especially now that we know that Malleus Draconia is willing and can kill to get them.” Another round of chattering amongst themselves before Azul began to speak, plan forming in his head whether Leona liked it or not.

“We have all been blind, and yet the answer is staring us in the face. - This could be the chance to ensnare Malleus.” Azul stated out, drawing something out as Jade and Floyd listened in deeply.

“Go on/We’re listening.” Rook and Vil spoke out as Leona rolled his eyes at everyone's antics, why is everyone trying to ruin his happy ending with you? He has you now and there's no way he's going to lose you to Malleus Draconia. He loves you and refuses to let that damn lizard get in the way of his relationship with you. 

“We shall play his game, perform his work but remember; we hold the ace- For if Y/N sings, Malleus is certain to attend.” Azul finished, looking over the plan that they have just made.

“We are certain the doors are barred.” Rook stated out, for Floyd and Jade to add into it together.

“We are certain the police are there.” 

“We are certain they are armed.” Vil stated out only for Leona to understand where this was going. This wasn't going to be about ending the book, it's about stopping Malleus.

“His reign will end!” Leona stated out lastly, nodding his head at Azul’s work with a chuckle. “Good job, I shall go address them now. Let them know of our plan before action can start.” With that, he was quick to stand up and leave the room. Finding you was easy, getting the sleeping Silver and on guard Sebek to leave was harder. Yet, once those two were out and seeing you trembling with fear made his heart sink.

“Don't make me do this, Leona… Don't make me do this trial by fire… He wont let me go- We will be parted forever…” You whispered out, begged and hoped after hearing the plan come out from Leona’s mouth. Leona could only sigh as he knelt down to your side, thinking of what to say in hopes of encouraging you to go along with their plan, in hopes of having you in his arms forever without the chance of losing you to Malleus.

“You said yourself, he was nothing but a man… Yet while he lives, he will haunt us, till we’re dead…” 

“Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who inspired my voice, do I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought, he murders all that good; I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could. Oh God, if I agree what horrors await me in this… The Phantoms Opera?” Tears in your eyes began to drip down as you looked at your fiancé, who could only pull you closer into his arms as he wished to just take you far, far away and protect you forever.

“Y/n, don't think that I don't care, but every hope and every prayer rests on you now.” Leona stated out softly as he looked down at you, brushing the tears off of your cheeks as he brought you in for a gentle kiss. A hope that this could and would bring you any encouragement through this trial by fire.

Meanwhile, a certain dragon was unhooking things, checking the rope on the chandelier, messing with anything that could cause a disaster if things needed to be done. He was going to get you, steal you away from that lazy Lion one way or another, trial by fire or not. You belong to him!

“Seal my fate tonight, I hate to have to cut the fun short- but the jokes wearing thin, let the audience in,

Let my Opera begin!”

#malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twst malleus #malleus x mc #malleus x yuu #twisted wonderland leona #twst #leona twisted wonderland #leona x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fanfic #twst lilia #twst leona #sebek twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #twst silver #silver vanrouge #lilia vanrouge #vil shoenheit #rook hunt

[ravendruid]

"Don't You Even Dare"

So.... how about that episode, uh? Yeah, I couldn't sleep, so I wrote this instead. You can also find this drabble on AO3! MAJOR spoilers for Campaign 3, Episode 51!

Keyleth heard a familiar voice in her mind, letting her know the plan was in motion, and she rushed to gather as many Ashari warriors as she could muster. She had an unsettling feeling about this, but she had promised Orym that she would come and aid them. After all, if what he said was true, and The Verity was trying to release a God-eating God, she couldn’t let it happen. There was a lot at stake, not just her friends being champions of gods themselves, but also all the clerics and paladins, not to mention… no! She did not want to think about what would happen if She was defeated or what it meant for Him. 

It seemed like a good idea at first to drop out of the sky in her earth elemental form, but what Keyleth wasn’t expecting was that the archmage would be able to stun her with a snap of his fingers. The knot in her stomach twisted further as fear settled within her. She was powerless, useless.

She saw figures coming out of the shadows, their weapons drawn, and soon she was stabbed and slashed at, and she couldn’t do anything. She saw the horror in the faces of those around her as they witnessed her, the grand Archdruid, the Voice of the Tempest, leader of the Air Ashari, so helpless and impotent against these attackers.

When her elemental body couldn’t hold it any longer, she felt herself reverse to her form. Not being able to scream or move, the pain was mainly psychological at first, but as Otohan kept slashing and stabbing at her, it became physical and unbearable.

All she could think about was her family: her mom and her dad in Zephrah worried about her, not knowing what was happening; Vex and Percy, and her nephews and nieces, their cute, smiley faces and devilish eyes, who had no idea what where she was; Pike, Scanlan, their children, and Grog, so clueless as well. They wouldn’t know if she died. Not unless they were wearing their necklaces, and even if they did, there was nothing they could do to save her. 

The last face she saw was his, her Raven Angel, the delicate features of his face, the darkness of his eyes, the softness of his hair falling down to his shoulders. As Otohan drove the sword into her heart, Keyleth could swear she saw jet-black feathers dissipating the blade. She could swear she heard the familiar flap of wings shielding her and a voice she hadn’t heard in over thirty years: his voice.

“Don’t you even dare,” Vax’ildan, the Champion of the Matron of Ravens, appeared on the battlefield, surrounded by a cloak of feathers and wielding his daggers. Even through his mask, Keyleth could see his face, the look of anger in his eyes as he stood above her protectively. 

“And now the final piece. The sliver of divinity. The lens.” She heard a voice say. She couldn’t turn to look at where it came from, but she somehow knew who it belonged to. Then suddenly, the tunnel echoed with the noise of glass, and bright beams of energy shifted toward her Raven Angel. 

His screams pierced her heart far deeper than any blade could, and Keyleth couldn’t do anything to save him. They had used her as bait to draw him out, the last piece of the puzzle, and for the third time, she had been the cause of his death, as Vax’ildan’s celestial body compressed into a sphere of dark shadows in front of her eyes.

If she could scream, she would have, but her body was still locked, useless, and impotent. Vax had come to save her, and now she would gladly die a thousand deaths if it meant she could see him again, touch his face, see the love in his eyes again. But she was still alive – thanks to him – and he wasn’t.

#critical role #cr spoilers #vaxleth #vax'ildan #keyleth #c3e51 #bells hells #i'm sorry #I couldn't stop thinking about it #cr fic #prompted

[willowedhepatica]

A raven whispered on death's shoulder. Ash in its voice and black eyes shimmering with a message. 'New life. New bearer.'

Death furrowed her brows, the upper half of her face masked by a skull of bones. Jagged and sharp, a black hood casting the rest of her in shadows. "Are you sure?"

'Oh yes, exuberant this one.' The raven crowed, ruffling up its feathers.

Beatrice fought the urge to sigh. "For what I've learned, that's a common attribute."

The raven shook its head, which was more like a quick twitch of the neck to the left. 'Not like others. Life before.'

That made her turn, just enough to face the black bird. "She was human?"

'Yes yes, they've chosen someone with a name.'

She frowned. It bothered her, not because they had chosen someone who once was mortal but the fact that she didn't have an answer as to why. She thrived in the comfort of knowledge. She never wandered. Her steps had as much purpose as the souls she retrieved and the realm that came after. But this made her wonder. It made her want to stray away from the calculated path she'd created for herself to take a look at the new bearer.

Beatrice shook her head, and thus the slipping thought of straying away from her duty. She told herself it didn't matter. That lingering on it was foolish. "Let's hope they've chosen wisely then."

—

You would think that life and death would cross paths more often than the sun rose in the sky or the moon pulled the water to shore.

But Beatrice was like a shadow, her footsteps light and hands gentle as she swept them over a body to bring the soul to her realm.

Quiet and proficient.

She felt no need to linger in the world of the living.

The first time Beatrice saw life she was sitting on the side of the road, her yellow coat that dressed her like the sun itself casting a pleasant light on the otherwise dark city.

Rain poured down but didn't seem to bother her. Patterning against her cloak before trailing down and dropping to the ground. She was smiling, looking down as she talked to someone Beatrice couldn't see. For all she knew, she wasn't talking to anyone at all.

"Hello?"

Life whipped her head up and Beatrice couldn't help but stare at her eyes. Golden brown. She got this strong feeling that those alone were the inspiration for how fire wanted to behave. Wild and dancing. Certainly, unmistakably alive.

They flickered with something Beatrice couldn't depict. Then she tilted her head to the side, brown strands of hair slipping over her eyes as her smile widened. "We have been waiting for you."

Beatrice forced herself to look down. "We?"

"Yes, Blu just wanted to watch the rain for the last time."

She saw him then, the entire reason she was brought here in the first place. The cat's tail stuck out from under lifes cloak, slowly going back and forth. "He's a little nervous."

"There's no need. It's simply a pass between two realms." The answer was automatic.

"You make it sound so irrelevant."

"Excuse me?"

Life leaned down and moved her cloak slightly, revealing a tiny nose and ears that turned down in alarm. Its translucent body shimmering a soft blue. "It's a pretty big deal for him so it is for me too."

Beatrice pressed her lips together. She would certainly not regard it as irrelevant. But wasn't it that simple? Just something that was a part of life – or what came after.

"It's a big deal for you?"

Life nodded. "Of course it is! I mean, just look at them. Everything they have been through and what has shaped them to who they are."

"I don't see why that's important."

"Not important?" Life flung up and Beatrice couldn't help but take a step back when she began walking towards her. "Don't you speak to them? Don't you see how important this is because it is a part of their journey. It is nothing irrelevant." She stood close to her now, the cat tucked in her arms, watching her wearily. "Isn't it your job to make sure they feel safe while crossing over?"

She was staring at her now, those brown eyes boring into her and she had to consciously tell herself not to squirm. "I can assure you that they are safe with me."

To Beatrice's surprise, life shook her head at the answer. "Don't tell me that. Tell Blu."

Beatrice never really talked to the souls she needed to bring with her. There was no need to. Her job was only to make sure they crossed between the realms safely.

And she had certainly not learnt any name. She had always been told it was disadvantageous. A name was a connection. A connection to something she couldn't have. Couldn't savour. Because before she knew it, they were gone. She was the bridge, and bridges weren't meant for anyone to bide.

Her lips twitched, and she took her hand forward to sweep over the anxious cat. "It's not wise to form a connection with a soul. It will only Impede in what must be done."

Life watched as the cat's body slowly fragmented to what looked like small stars. Trailing around her hand and collecting in deaths folded hands.

Beatrice turned to leave.

"No way you really believe that."

She stopped, jaw tightening. "Look, I know you're new to this but you need to understand, this is our duty. Not a game."

"I don't think this is a fucking game, just," she threw her hand ups helplessly. "I don't know. I don't even know why they chose me."

She couldn't help but look her over then. The emotions etched in her face, more prominent than what should be considered acceptable. She looked too human. Still, Beatrice didn't correct her on it, couldn't help but be intrigued. Why did they choose her? "They must have had their reasons."

She jerked her shoulders up. "Maybe, for all I know it could be an acciden–"

"No, that's not possible." It came out sharper than she expected and life took a step away. Beatrice opened her mouth to apologise but stopped herself last second, instead turning away. "It doesn't matter now, I need to leave."

"Hey, wai-"

Beatrice closed her eyes. She was gone before life could finish her sentence. She sighed when she realised where she was. The darkness was familiar.

The raven crowed from where it sat. 'I told you.'

"Don't start it."

Yeah, this was going to be a problem.

#life and death au? #where bea is the personification of death and ava is life #yeah i don't know either #but concepts like these intrigue me so... #warrior nun #avatrice #warrior nun fanfic #warrior nun fic #beatrice x ava #my writing

[onehundredflamingos]

For @theadultfandomproject back to Hogwarts fest

sticky and sweet / NSFW (explicit sexual content)

When James had started dating again after Lily, he didn’t ever feel guilty about it when it came to Harry. Maybe it was because he never felt a true connection with anyone, so it was never bound to effect his son at all.

Regulus, however, threw a wrench in that.

It was hard to say why exactly dating Regulus stressed him out: if it was because he was Sirius’ little brother, or if it was because he was Harry’s potions professor at Hogwarts.

Probably both, if he was being honest, but the latter felt a bit more consequential.

Being with Regulus made James feel like he was a teenager once more, sneaking around kissing classmates in broom cupboards or jacking them off in the locker room. He found himself asking to borrow his own invisibility cloak from his son so he could “play a prank on Sirius.”

Harry had brought it home after the winter holidays, and James had been sneaking through Regulus’ floo and using the cloak to walk around with him, either around the grounds, or even within the campus to catch students out past curfew.

Today, James had finally convinced Regulus to let him accompany him into Hogsmeade, since Regulus was forced to go as a chaperone for the students anyway.

“I’ll stay under the cloak the entire time, I swear,” James said, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

Regulus quirked a brow, giving him a very pointed look. “You are the most mischievous person I have ever known, James.”

“Please,” he begged, a bit petulantly. “I just want to spend time with you away from Hogwarts. If you won’t floo back to my house then this is the only way.”

“Why don’t you come back another weekend, and we can go to Hogsmeade then?”

“Reg,” James tried. “I’ll do whatever you want in here once we get back.”

“Whatever I want?” Regulus eyes darkened instantly, the proposal clearly enticing him.

James nodded. “Anything.” He leaned forward and kissed Regulus deeply—a promise.

“We’re gonna have to go to Honeydukes.”

****

James had somehow underestimated Regulus’ desire for fun in Hogsmeade.

First, Regulus dragged him into the stationary shop, insisting he needed new quills—raven feathers and eagle feathers, ones that would surely stand out from the children in the room.

“Flourish and Blotts next?” Regulus asked, and James was grateful for the cloak hiding his expression. He wasn’t as interested in leisurely reading as Regulus was.

He would’ve rather smuggled a beer from the Hog’s Head under his cloak, or sipped tea at Madam Puddifuts.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” James said. It wouldn’t do for him to bumble around invisible in a bookstore, anyway.

“Meet me at Honeydukes,” Regulus countered. “Pick out whatever you want for later and I’ll come grab it all in a bit.” His tone was suggestive, and James wasn’t entirely sure what was in store for him for later, or even what he should be looking for.

James swallowed thickly. “Okay,” he said, practically in a whisper. “Anything special?”

“Chocolate,” he said, without even a second of hesitation. “Anything with chocolate.”

James felt his cheeks pink and his cock twitch, and was once again grateful for the cover of the cloak.

“Go on,” Regulus said, nodding toward the candy shop. He must have recognized that James' feet hadn’t yet shuffled away.

“Right, okay,” James agreed, and Regulus immediately turned on his heel and walked into the book store.

James made his way into Honeydukes, scanning all the walls and displays for everything chocolate: chocolate bars, chocolate syrup, chocolate truffles filled with liqueur.

Once he had a long mental list, he stood by the door and waited for Regulus.

****

Considering the chocolate had been Regulus’ idea, James had assumed that Regulus would want to take charge, not that he would want to be covered in it.

Not that James was complaining.

James felt a bit out of his league, but he refused to let it show; instead he lined up bits of chocolate down Regulus’ chest and stomach, down to his public bone, drizzling chocolate syrup everywhere else. He coated Regulus’ cock with the stuff, thick and dripping to ensure his time licking it up would be ample. They had also bought the small liqueur filled truffles, little rewards to pop into Regulus’ mouth whenever James saw fit.

“Clean me up, James,” Regulus commanded, once James was finished, tone breathy. Clearly James had been staring for too long, taking in the sight before him.

James felt his body heat at the tone, blood rushing rapidly down to his hardening length.

“Mhm,” he agreed. He popped one of the truffles into Regulus’ mouth. He wanted to praise that tone, he wanted to be commanded by Regulus more.

James dipped down, nibbling a small chocolate bit off of Regulus’ sternum before licking a long strip of syrup that was coating his right nipple. James inched up and kissed Regulus, pressing the chocolate sauce into his mouth, forcing him to taste it.

“Mmm,” Regulus hummed, licking the edge of James’ bottom lip.

James got back to work, nibbling more bits of chocolate off Regulus’ chest, licking a line up his left nipple. He kissed Regulus once more—the last taste of sweat-tinged syrup Regulus would get.

The rest was for James only.

He made his way down the remainder of Regulus’ torso, scooping chocolate up with his tongue, smearing it with his lips.

Eventually, James gave up on cleaning him fully, skipping down to his cock, jutted out and leaking at the tip. James licked up the sides, relishing in the twitches and the moans he was getting from his partner.

Another truffle for Regulus.

James never wanted to stop hearing those sounds.

All at once, James took Regulus’ cock in his mouth fully, chocolate syrup squeezing out at the corners of his mouth lips, but James didn’t bother licking it up. He bobbed his head instead, cupping Regulus’ balls with one hand and stroking the base of his shaft with the other, every inch slick with chocolate syrup and James’ saliva.

Regulus dug his fingers into James’ hair, pulling lightly at the roots as he thrust up off the bed and into James’ mouth.

James continued working Regulus, sucking and licking, cheeks hollowed out, until Regulus showed the telltale signs that he was about to come. Pulling his mouth off, James worked Regulus with his hand the rest of the way.

Regulus came with a loud groan, his come landing on his chest and stomach, mixing with the remaining chocolate—something sticky and sweet that James couldn’t wait to lick up.

James fed Regulus one last truffle before diving back in, licking the chocolate and come off of Regulus’ body. He licked up and down his stomach, along the span of skin below his navel, in the crevices beside his balls.

James cleaned every bit of Regulus’ body before falling beside him on the bed, mentally cataloging all of the items he had seen at Honeydukes, and all the ways he planned to eat them off Regulus’ body.

#Jegulus #marauders #James x regulus

[dballzposting]

Videl & Gohan are so interesting becasue they’re both such pleasant and well-meaning people but also she’s a Filthy Freak and he’s a Glamorous Geek and he just wants peace and ease to justify the time he’s spent in the abyss but he still wears the colors of it like a cloak and he’s of saiyan blood and I think he dresses it in a different way but I think that he needs something to sink his teeth into . And Videl is a symbol of justice in her own right and she’s ravenous in the pursuit of it and she craves Truth to the point where it may dissolve everything she’s been thus far, the black of the abyss is as valuable as daylight musings and when she weighs Gohan’s sins against a feather she learns that weighing a pegasus against its own skin is like collaring yourself by your own tail and claiming blind justice but all you’ve done is lose the ability to distinguish the abyss from ordinary nighttime, thus losing the ability to discuss if there is a difference at all. Also they do silly poses together

#dballz posting #gohan & videl #<- i dislike that tag bc i regret not putting videl first. I did it that way to #phonetically mirror my ''goten & trunkz'' tag for ease of remembrance but #that tag is only like that bc i put my fave character first. for ease of remembrance. #And so i should have done that with my gohan & videl tag but WHATEVER .... #Acyually i could chnage it i could very easily change it. Maybe i will one day. maybe i will..

[shiny-jr]

I'm literally in love with your damnation au! It's so good!! I love your writing style, I would literally get done on one knee for you.

I kinda want to make fanart of your work (specifically our new birb MC's) but I'm a little confused about their clothing? Do you have any references for something they would have worn?

Thinking about raven mc I've been wondering about the construction of their cloak/coat/shawl.

Would it look feathery

Smooth but with a feather design

Or a simple cloak. Also what does the feather in their hair look like. A Quill? Jewelry?

I have the same question for Iago MC.

Oh no, don't get down on one knee–– but asks! I love these type of asks where I can talk about how I developed the mc's outfit and the whole aesthetic. So, I've probably mentioned this before, but I'm a huge Pinterest user. Lots of my stories have their own boards, even drafts of stories I've never spoken about. Unsurprisingly, Damnation has their own board too. Which you should be able to find if you look up "Shiny-Jr" in the profiles. And at the very bottom of each section in the Damnation board, you'll be able to find some inspiration I took from several sources for outfits.

Raven MC is very simple, and the most complex thing about Parrot MC is probably their shawl. However, you and others are free to picture them in whatever way you want! I usually try to give descriptions for the outfit just for references, and so no one's picturing their MC in like crocs and a t-shirt or something. The outfit is meant for them to blend in too, but I'd love to see unique takes on what readers imagine their look/outfits to be like! I mean, if you want to imagine your MC in crocs and a t-shirt, then go for it.

#shiny speaks #damnation twst au

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To Cry Uncle

🐦‍⬛ Alright, alright, let's get this show on the road 🐦‍⬛

Does Two of us make a Murder of Crows? … Or an Unkindness of Ravens?

BAM!!

The door slammed open, rattling the attic from its impact. Scattered papers shook, and even the inky letters spilled onto them seemed to tremble too.

A man in a top hat and feathered cape barreled in. From her writing desk, a girl cloaked in the same sleek, dark feathers bristled and set down her quill.

"U-Uncle?! Don't scare me like that," Raven gently chided him. "You could have at the very least considered knocking before barging in unannounced."

It was something which the headmaster of Night Raven College made a habit to do. Lectures, labs—he arrived whenever he pleased, then disappeared just as quickly. Some called him a whimsical genius (well, usually it came from his own mouth), but most called him mad and unpredictable.

But today he wore a frown instead of a smile, was less bird-like and more pitiable kitten drenched in the rain. Dragging out a sigh and a sob, Crowley threw his arms around Raven. His talons dug into his mark, the other hand woefully stroking her hair—hair which would have dampened if he had released any real tears.

"Raven-kun!!" he cried out, “Oh, it’s awful! Dreadful! The most preposterous thing happened to me on my morning stroll. You’ll hear me out, won’t you, my dear niece?”

Awful? Dreadful? Preposterous? More awful, dreadful, and preposterous than the slew of Overblots that had plagued their once-peaceful academy? She had her doubts, but entertained him nevertheless.

"… Alright, what has got you so out of sorts?" Raven asked wearily. (Her question came out muffled, on account of being pressed against her guardian’s chest.) She had learned to be patient with him, but prepared for the catastrophizing.

Perhaps the cafeteria ran out of his favorite meat pies. He’s been looking forward to that all week.

“I found a gaggle of students skipping class!” Crowley burst out, breaking their hug. Exaggerated distress turned his voice into a trill. “On Main Street, of all places! Before the very eyes of the most venerable Great Seven! They would surely be heartbroken to know that the children of today sullied the good name of Night Raven College!”

Raven tried to nod understandingly and pat his back. Quiet methods of coaxing him to let it all out

“Of course, I did my due diligence as headmaster of this esteemed institution and confronted the boys at once,” Crowley continued—puffing with a pinch of pride at the mention of his status before soon deflating. “Ooh, but I was so rudely rebuked!! The students ignored my very reasonable plea to return to class, then proceeded to ignore or insult me—ME!! Their beloved headmaster!

"Belittled and bullied by my very own pupils…" He sniffed loudly. "It’s a cruel fate, but someone has to discipline ignorant, misbehaving children--and so it fell upon my shoulders! I unleashed my Lash of Love upon them and deposited the hooligans back in Professor Trein's lecture!"

"You did what you could to resolve the situation, Uncle," Raven replied, her words carefully stroking his ego. "You are ever so magnanimous."

"I am, aren't I!" Crowley agreed. "Alas, a teacher's work is thankless! What has come of the younger generation?! And what have I done to deserve this kind of treatment? All I've ever done is work tirelessly to ensure that our Night Raven College provides high-quality education!"

"Well... You don't exactly command authority with your attitude or how you carry yourself. Truly, when most picture the archetype of a 'headmaster of an arcane academy', they tend to imagine someone... different. If you want to be perceived differently, it may help to present new parts of yourself to the students."

Like maybe actually doing your job instead of delegating tasks to teenagers and having them solve all your problems..

"Show them your strengths and good points," Raven suggested, "traits worthy of respect."

Crowley's beady, golden eyes suddenly lit up. They bore into Raven from the pitch-black holes in his mask.

"That’s it!" he declared, perking up. “If I’m to garner respect, I ought to try and demonstrate the true breadth of my kindness. Perhaps then they will take note of the power hierarchy and bend an ear to my commands!”

“Er, that’s not exactly what I meant…”

Crowley swept away from her, beginning to pace back and forth. A finger curled at his chin, his mind set in deep contemplation.

“The issue now is, how will I appear approachable to begin with? My visage is far too grand to tamp down, and I’m afraid my decades of wisdom are useless against accusations of being ‘old’ and ‘out of touch’!!“

Those comments really hit him hard, huh…

“Have you considered taking up a hobby instead of fixating on public opinion? It just may help you clear your thoughts.” Raven gestured at her desk. “I myself partake in writing as an outlet.”

In an instant, the headmaster was at her side. He nosily peered over his niece, practically leering down at the contents of her papers.

Stories that started with Once upon a times and then diverged, walking along a multitude of paths to endings yet to be determined. Heroes and villains and the people that supported them, coming together in grand casts. New places, new experiences, new feelings.

Connections, ways of bridging the gap between hearts.

“H-Hey…! I never said you could look. These are private projects,” Raven protested, hurrying to cover up her scripts.

Too late. A giddy shine had already risen to the headmaster’s eyes.

Oh no. I know that look!

“Dearest Raven,” Crowley cooed, a clawed hand finding its way onto her shoulder, “how generous of you to lend your assistance to your sad old uncle! Fufufu, it appears as though the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!"

"What are you on about now?" It slowly dawned on her, and she paled. “Don’t tell me…”

"This is the solution for my... I mean, our predicament!" Crowley lifted a paper and a waved it around like a triumphant flag. “Written word has the power to influence. With your help, we can conduct an interview, spread stories of my great kindness and power, sway the consensus!”

Ah, a coordinated PR strategy. Raven frowned. His usual fallback.

The trick would work on most people beyond the campus grounds, but not on the students within. Not when there was already a narrative in place: the tale of the carefree, bumbling, useless man at the helm of the school. Pitiable, easily kicked around. And there was some truth to it--truth that could only be twisted so far before it fell into the realm of outright fantasy.

Most did not realize how truly frightening a man cloaked by the shadows could be.

“I understand wanting to spruce up your image, but there is only so much that can do for you. People will believe what they want to believe, regardless of what new information is presented to them."

Raven sighed, picking her quill back up and dipping it in an inkwell. Rich black fluid, darker than the darkest night, rose up into the nib. She offered the writing implement to her guardian, who stared at it in confusion.

"If you want their views on you to change, that is something you will have to earn for yourself. The words must come straight from its source and be genuine."

“Raven-kun…”

She pressed the quill into Crowley’s palm.

From here on out, the story is up to you.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Dire Crowley #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #upcoming blog event... #you asked #now I deliver #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk

[vollzz]

1.What is your character's biggest fear, and how does it affect their actions and relationships? 4. What are your character's quirks or eccentricities that make them stand out from others? 9. What is your character's moral compass? What principles or values do they hold dear? For Eves

hey thank you for asking!! I will take every excuse to talk about eves :)

1- I’m going to say two fears because they’re pretty intertwined: they’re terrified of abandonment and no longer feeling loved. It’s not completely the reason Eves is the way they are, but those fears have warped them significantly over time. It’s absolutely why they are the only deity that has physical/emotional relationships with their followers. Eves also “relieves” Lovers of their service after a while partially as a defense mechanism - they can’t be abandoned if they do the abandoning first. A big part of Calliope’s struggles in their relationship is Eves’ extreme jealousy, to the point that they’ve killed someone she tried to befriend in the past out of fear that she might leave them for someone else.

They seem to be drawn to people with similar issues (although for wholly different reasons), though I can’t say they’ve done enough introspection to realize that! Calliope is no different, which is why she latches on to them so quickly/easily.

These deep-seated issues are very much related to why they despise Greylin, the lord of deities, so much, and is also why they have an estranged relationship with [???] 👀

4- First with the obvious: Eves ALWAYS stands out in any setting because they’re effectively the hottest being on the planet, and they generally let some degree of their alluring powers transcend the area around them. We see this really early on when Calliope and Eves are walking through a town and despite Eves having their hood up, practically everyone is craning their necks to look at them (they know Cal is annoyed by this, but see answer above - they NEED to know that people are interested in them at all times).

I think the other thing though is that Eves likes to express themselves through their makeup and clothing, I’d say both consciously and unconsciously. Their most precious belonging is a raven-feathered cloak of mysterious origin, and they are almost always seen wearing it EXCEPT when they plan to do/expect something gruesome. As if they don’t want to taint the cloak, almost. Makeup-wise they always wear some amount of eyeshadow/eyeliner and it often correlates with their mood. There’s a couple scenes later on in Blackflame that really show this: in one, they appear very disheveled and have smears of black makeup under their eyes as if they’d rubbed them while forgetting they wore mascara, and in another they line their eyes with a bright red shadow that mimics their fiery temper in the way that it clashes with the gold of their irises.

9- This one’s interesting, because I feel like a traditional moral compass doesn’t necessarily apply to immortal beings. My thoughts are that morality can often come from a place of wanting to make a difference, wanting to be remembered for good and help people etc, but in writing these deities I wondered what kind of morals someone would have if they knew they would ALWAYS exist. Like, if you do something horrifically awful, does it really matter when everyone who will remember you for it will be dead in 100 years? At what point do you become existentially bored and start doing random chaotic bullshit just to feel alive, you know?

So with that said, at this point in time Eves, and all of the deities, err on the side of generally neutral and self-serving, though some of them are more benevolent that others. Eves really only does things that make them feel loved and wanted, and will also do anything to get under Greylin’s skin (whether that thing is morally “good” or not). They don’t really find anything wrong with using their Lovers to satiate their needs for love and companionship, and even thinks of it as doing them a great service - in their eyes, spending time with them is a privilege that people would die for!

There is one thing, however, that they are very, very touchy about. Eves is very outspoken that their powers don’t create desire where it doesn’t exist, so if someone genuinely weren’t attracted to Eves they wouldn’t feel the pull of their alluring power. We see this when they interact with followers of other deities - their hearts/souls are taken by their vows and so they can’t feel Eves’ power anymore. So Eves has never, and will never, sleep with someone who doesn’t want to, and will absolutely murder anyone who suggests otherwise.

—

This was really fun to answer! Thanks anon :)

#blackflame #blackflame oc: eves #ask #do I put the tag list on these? idk ahh

[theravenmuse]

Me: I should probably work on one of the five novels/series I’ve started writing.

Also me: starts writing Good Omens/Sandman fanfiction because Neil Gaiman told me to.

The raven’s arrival came with a flurry of feathers and a ragged caw. “My Lord, it’s an urgent matter.”

The Dream Lord set aside his book with a frown. “What is it, Jessamy?”

The raven alighted on the table before him and hopped closer. “A demon in the Dreaming.”

“A demon? Here? It isn’t possible. The Morningstar wouldn’t dare to send one of theirs here without my permission.”

“I can only report what I see.”

“Where is it?”

-

Crawly wandered through the garden, gazing up through the living green to the beams of warm sunlight that filtered down. It was so beautiful, Her world. The thought of Her drew a painful shadow over his simple joy, but he brushed it aside.

Up ahead the trees and bushes laden with berries parted to form a bright clearing. He paused when he reached it, turning a slow circle in its center.

A shadow crossed the clearing. Crawly looked up to see the mirroring shadow in the sky as a raven swooped down to land on the branch of a pear tree. The bird cocked its head, staring straight at Crawly, and then turned slightly to look at something beyond his shoulder; something that made the back of Crawly’s neck tickle by its mere presence.

He was shaped like a man, but was anything but. He wore a helm of bone and a dark cloak. His being was strange and ancient.

“Demon,” the not-a-man greeted with a voice that echoed in Crawly’s head.

The world shifted. The lush shape of living things fell away to a dead expanse of sand. Crawly spun wildly, taking in the vastness. There was nothing but dunes for as far as he could see. The being and his raven were gone. A hot wind blew up a swirl of the golden grains, only to settle them in a new way. He was alone, but not alone at the same time. The back of his neck prickled under the eyes of some unseen watcher.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Crawly demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.

“You don’t know?” Crawly spun to face the being. He stood as he had before, but now the raven sat on his shoulder. “Were you not sent?”

“I… no? I can’t remember. I was looking at the stars and then all the sudden I was back in Eden. I know I’m not meant to be there, closed and all that. I’m sorry. It was an accident. I’m not even sure how I got there, honest,” Crawly pleaded.

The being was silent. His raven ruffed up his feathers and cawed to fill the silence.

At last, the being bowed his head and removed his helm. He had the face of a man too; a pale man with dark hair and black eyes.

“You, demon, are in the Dreaming. This is a place in which demons are not allowed without my express permission. I ask you again, how did you come to be here?”

Crawly was lost. “Dreaming?”

“This is the place where minds come while their bodies sleep. It is my realm and you are trespassing.”

Dreaming? He was dreaming? Crawly had heard a passing mention of great adventures or embarrassing events happening to the humans while they’d slept, but he’d thought it all a fantasy. Now he was here, apparently.

The stars. He’d been looking at the stars and his eyes had drifted closed. He must have fallen asleep back in the physical world. As he thought of them, the sky above him bled from blue to red to black. A thousand twinkling eyes gazed down at him.

The Dream Lord craned his head, black eyes gleaming in surprise.

“Right, sorry, I’ll just.. I’ll be off then. Not wanted here. No hard feelings.” Crawly turned quickly and started walking, realizing a moment too late that he had no idea how to get out of this place and walking probably wasn’t it. Still, he didn’t have any better ideas.

“Wait,” the Dream Lord commanded. The dream shifted and Crawley was back where he’d been the moment before.

The demon stumbled back, wide eyed. “Honest, I’m not trying to cause trouble,” he said tightly.

“No,” the Dream Lord agreed contemplatively, “and as long as you don’t harm the dreaming or the other dreamers, I have no objection to you staying.”

“I can stay?” Crawly asked, not quite believing.

“Of course. The dreaming is meant for dreamers, of which you are one, apparently. I am the lord of this realm but its power rests in you as much as it does in me.”

“But… you said demons aren’t permitted in the dreaming.”

“I was mistaken. You have come here under your own power, a power I haven’t known demons to possess.”

“What power’s that?”

“The power of dreaming, of course. Enjoy your dream, Demon Crawly, it seemed a pleasant one.”

The Dream shifted again and Crawly was back in Eden with the sun shining down on him. The Dream Lord and his raven were gone.

#fanfiction #good omens #good omens fanfiction #sandman #sandman fanfiction #Crowley #dream of the endless #morpheus