#the characters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tartppola · 17 days

Text

Stranded in another world, with no hope of going back or any magic to defend themselves with, this is the anecdote of the Ramshackle Prefect Yuulis Crowley's first week in another world called Twisted Wonderland.

warning : mentions of blood & dissection, didn't beta this so :P a/n : happy april fools :D

It was a chilly morning on the Night Raven College campus, and Sam’s first day coming back to the mystery shop. Oh, how he missed the purple overlay of the wallpaper; the diamond skulls and taxonomy and other knick-knacks that seamlessly blend together to form something quite avant-garde. Speaking of knick-knacks, he remembered that his new stock of goods his ‘friends’ salvaged from who knows where should be arriving today, how exciting!

His feet skipped up and about, the keys he spun around his finger chiming as he hummed a happy tune from the Port of Jubilee. Sam wonders what kind of faces the new first years would make the first time they step into the shop, or when they meet his ‘friends’ for the first time.

Just as he was about to make a turn from Main Street, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a pile of huge boxes at the doorstep, that must be his new goods, but there was something else, or rather, someone else. That someone–young enough to be a first year, but not wearing the school uniform–was waiting by the boxes. No student has ever been to the shop this early, and the school hasn’t allowed any of the local townsfolk to visit, so why?

“Excuse me!” Sam called out, making his way towards them, “I’m flattered that a line is already forming, but opening hours aren’t until lunch time!”

They stared blankly at him the moment he stood right in front of them. They held out a clipboard with a delivery receipt that listed the names of various magical supplies

“I’m here to on behalf of the Headmaster,” Sam barely understood them through their thick accent, “Please double check the receipt and make sure to tell of any errors.”

Since when did the Headmaster hire any couriers.....and one so young at that. Oh well, as long as Crowley’s not breaking any child labor laws, it should be alright, shouldn’t it? The shopkeep noticed that his back grew colder and colder as he went through the new inventory. He stole a small glance at the youth, turning back immediately when he saw how intently their gaze bore through his soul.

“Phew! It’s getting pretty darn cold out here!” The hand that held his keys trembled a bit, “How about we go inside to warm ourselves up a bit?”

He took back his thoughts. This was far from alright.

“--and where do these charms go, Mr.Sam?”

“By the aisle near the grimoires, next to the paper talismans,”

It’s been nearly half an hour of restocking, yet they haven’t left the store. Sam tried his best to breathe through the awkward atmosphere, but the tension was so thick he could harvest it, bottle it up and sell each for 500 madol. If only such a thing was possible, if only.

“Mr.Sam,”

He felt his shadow jump to the ceiling at the sound of their voice.

“What kind of store is this, exactly?”

“Well, since you’ve seen my wares firsthand, should you be able to tell right away?” He put on an air of faux confidence, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

“At first, I thought this was a magic supplies store, but none of them back at home sell dangerous herbs like oleander and wolf’s bane. How did you get a hold of this amount of them anyway?”

“Well, what can I say? There’s only so much exotic ingredients you can grow in the botanical gardens,”

“But, there are also basic necessities like toothpaste and clothes,” They pondered, “Come to think of it, one of the new deliveries was a box of snacks, wasn’t it?”

“That’s what happens when you’re the only tuck shop in one of the most prestigious schools in the world!” He winked, “It wasn’t easy getting ahold of most of the inventory, but you gotta do what you gotta do, don’t you agree?”

A small chuckle escaped their lips, “That’s not a bad mindset for a businessman.”

In the end, no matter how eccentric they initially seemed, a child is still a child. He felt foolish for being so afraid, what could they do when he had his friends by his side?

“By the way,” it was hard to notice how much time passed by, “Shouldn’t you go back to your dorm and change into your uniform? It’s almost time for morning classes.”

“Ah, was Mr.Sam not present during the entrance ceremony? No wonder you didn’t recognize me,”

There was some word on the street about a fiasco happening during this year’s entrance ceremony, something about the halls being lit on fire by a beast? He couldn’t believe it when one of the friends that stayed to guard the shop told him about it.

“I was deemed unworthy to be sorted into a dorm, because I possess no magical capabilities whatsoever. It seems that there was an error during the student selection process,”

“Is that even possible?” his suave expression morphed into worry, “Then, why didn’t the Headmaster send you back home?”

“He tried, but the Mirror of Darkness said something along the lines of ‘The place from whence they came from can’t be found in this world’.

“And so here I am, doing odd jobs and tasks on behalf of the Headmaster, the students and the staff of NRC,” Sam could hear a small sense of pride at their introduction, “I'm more capable than I look, please don’t hesitate to call upon me if you need any assistance.”

Of all the strange things to make their way into his shop, never in a million years would Sam expect an estranged secretary to be one of them, and one that possibly came from another world to boot. He had a feeling that this year was going to be much, much more eventful than any of the years to have come, and he couldn’t wait to see it all unfold.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, little demon,” The shopkeep tipped his hat in a fine, gentlemanly manner, “Make sure to drop by again, ‘till next time!”

The gap of knowledge between the first and second year was indeed a big leap to overcome, Crewel knew how unprepared his puppies were going to be.

But by the Great Seven, oh how much he overestimated them.

The likes of Riddle Rosehearts and Azul Ashengrotto couldn’t possibly make up for the utter incompetence these mutts have, even the students with subpar scores like Savanaclaw’s Ruggie Bucchi and Diasomnia’s Silver looked like geniuses. At best, there are students like Kalim al-Asim, who actually tries, yet their efforts seem to seep out through their ears the moment they leave class, then there’s the unpredictable ones like Floyd Leech.

He remembers how the eel turned in blank test papers, or how he mixes whatever ingredients he finds interesting together, bleeding the chemical supply. 2 days ago, he used up an entire month’s worth of imp spinal fluid during potions class. It’s not as if they were hard to get, but their effects are most potent when freshly harvested. The thought of harvesting it himself made him shudder; sure, he’s seen some grotesque imagery as an alchemy professor, but who knows how long it will take to restock if he made a report to Crowley?

Sigh. Looks like he’ll have to put practical sessions on hold for a while and haggle with Sam.

“Excuse me, is Professor Crewel here?”

The door to the alchemy lab opened, bringing the professor back to reality. Someone he has never seen before let themself in, a plastic bag in hand.

“Stay! I don’t recall allowing anyone without a lab coat to enter….!” Realization kicked in once he got a clearer look, “Huh--so it’s you, the magicless stray that caused a riot in the entrance ceremony.”

The sound of a whip resonated through the room, followed by faint chattering and murmurs from nearby students scrambling away from the alchemy lab.

“Only authorized students and staff are allowed in the lab during school hours, didn’t the Headmaster tell you?”

Most of his students would cower just by hearing his tone grow stern, yet they remained unfazed. Playing bold now are we? Looks like he’ll have to teach them a lesson.

“The Headmaster,” they brought the plastic bag to his chest, “said that the lab’s storage room needed restocking.”

Ah, was that it? Making a child do his job; how much of a slave driver was Crowley? Knowing Crowley’s tardiness, it was probably something he had already spent his paycheck on, although the bottom of the bag was unusually cold.

Curiosity getting the better of the professor, he untied the knot and opened the bag. His face recoiled, from the shock of seeing the contents. Aurora moth’s scales--he had only requested these a few days ago! Not to mention all of that translucent mucus coating the scales, how long ago were these harvested?

“Is there something wrong, Professor?”

Crewel almost forgot about the intruder standing in front of him, “No, it’s just--this is the first time I've seen them so...fresh. The ones Crowley buys usually come preserved in bottles.”

“That may be because I just harvested them this afternoon,” they said nonchalantly.

“You--You what?!” the professor didn’t even try to mask his disgust, “You did this yourself?”

Their head tilted sideways, akin to a confused child.

“The Headmaster said that the locals needed help with pest control, so I’d thought I’d lend a hand, and they let me do whatever I wanted with the moths as payment, ” Despite having experience with that sort, Crewel’s stomach began to swirl, “The Headmaster gave me permission too,”

A scowl grew on his face. Typically a moth would've been killed humanely before their wings were plucked to relax their ligaments, but seeing the mess clinging to the wing's ends, it's clear that they didn't consider such option. He couldn't decide if they had a strong stomach to withstand seeing large bugs squirm underneath them, or an uneducated fool.

“Professor, are you alright? You look exhausted,”

He snapped back to reality that instant, rubbing circles around his temple. Pull yourself together, Crewel, he edged himself, you’ve lost your composure twice already. Maybe he just needed a good serving of raisin butter with wine on the side, or a joyride on his prized car. He glanced back at the dismembered wings, at least he got what he wanted. Still, this has never happened before, perhaps if he could take advantage of this situation….

“Tell me, pup. Since you have...the appropriate experience to harvest wings, how good are you at dissecting imps?”

They pondered for a while. It’s the most animated he’s seen of them, “I suppose I do how to extract fluids, their lymph is a versatile ingredient in many types of salves after all. Although it has been a while since I’ve ever needed to.”

Bingo

“Then, how about spinal fluid?”

It was their turn to be surprised, “I-I’ve never done that on an imp before. Just think of the amount of imps needed to fill a single bottle.”

“Tell you what, pup. Are you interested in a side-job?”

Without giving them a chance to respond, Crewel tossed a few madol and a map of the campus in their direction, “There are some common imps causing trouble in the college lately coming from who knows where. If you can deal with them, I’ll give you the other half of the payment, and of course--.”

He shoved them a basket full of empty test tubes, slinging it over their shoulder, “Fill every single test tube here to the brim before tomorrow's Science Club activity, I won't take no for an answer.”

And with that, they were pushed out of the alchemy lab. Spending their first sleepless night in another world catching imps wasn’t on their bucket list. Sighing heavily, they picked up their feet and staggered.

‘I wanted to creep him out a little,’ they thought, ‘but I ended up being the one getting creeped out.’

For such an important place, why did Crowley’s office have to be in a place so out of reach? For all his years in Night Raven College, Crewel always dreaded sending weekly reports to the Headmaster’s office, he could feel his leg muscles ache as he knocked against the two large gates. He peeked inside the office to look for the Headmaster.

“There you are, professor! What took you so long?”

There he was, sitting cross-legged on his desk as the portraits of the Great Seven floated up and about. Trein was there as well, as cold as usual and showing no sign of fatigue, peering at him as if he could see through everything. Maybe it was because he had a 20 year head start, either way, it was irritating how he was the only disheveled one.

“I don’t know, maybe it was the countless stairs I have to climb every week to submit a report when you can simply hire a secretary to fetch them for you?”

The crow simply smiled, already figuring out a solution to Crewel’s ire, “How has the first week of teaching been for you, professors?”

“I don’t know which is greener, the topiary maze in the Heartslabyul dorm, or the new puppies I’m in charge of,” Crewel shook his head.

“For once, I agree,” the history professor nodded indefinitely, Lucius yawning in his arms, “But that could be said for every first year in the history of NRC.”

Dire nodded, “Seems like everything’s going smoothly then! I shall leave the future of our students in your capable hands!”

Both professors nodded in response, “As you wish, Headmaster.”

“Although, I’d like to inquire about something,” Crewel spoke up before raising his index finger to the large window. From above, the view of the setting sun looming over the campus could be seen, but his finger specifically pointed to Main Street, or rather;the magicless stray walking to the direction of the alchemy lab, with the basket in hand and the direbeast from before by their side.

“What are we going to do about that?”

Without needing to look, Trein simply closed his eyes, “If what the mirror spoke was true, then that child quite literally has no place to go back to. It comes to question how they even ended up here in the first place."

Crowley rubbed his chin. The ultimate decision lies with him, and honestly, there was nothing stopping him from just shirking them off his feathers and leaving them to fend for themselves, along with the cat-beast that terrorized the entrance ceremony.

"It would undoubtedly stain the reputation of our esteemed college if we just kicked them out," the Headmaster groaned, "Oh, why must I be plagued with such problems!"

"Best of luck to you then, Headmaster Crowley," The two professors turned their heels and left Crowley's office with not a care in the world, leaving him with his worries.

The Headmaster leaned against his chair and sighed against the beak of is mask. Dealing with the child was the last thing he wanted to do at this moment, with their odd mannerisms and such, however...

Being unable to return home wasn't an unfamiliar conundrum to the Headmaster.

Perhaps it's his boundless generosity speaking to him, but there was a pang of heavy emotion in his chest that told him he couldn't simply leave that child, Yuulis, alone. Was it guilt? or maybe atonement? Whatever it was, it overrode the rational side of his brain

Dire Crowley was the type of person to judge a book by it's cover, which is why he was surprised how his new errand runner, or rather, the new Ramshackle Prefect was able to hold up better than he expected. The reports he received from the staff members he had tasked them with helping have been amicable, and his workflow was much smoother now that he had divided the more menial tasks to someone else. He had thought he had envoked the wrath of the Great Seven with the mess that was thrown his way, but surely they were more pliant than they initially seemed, and now Crowley had a reliable aide at his beck and call.

That would've been the end of the story if Crowley's worries ended there.

Perhaps it's his intuition as a mage, one that's been sharpened by many years of experience, but there was something off about the Prefect. It was subtle enough for none of the other professors to pick up on it, perhaps not even the prefect the▅self were aware of it, but Crowley co▅ld fe▅▅ it.

The lingering mi▅▅ma ▅▅ p▅rmea▅▅ from ▅▅em, it ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ M▅▅▅l▅ ▅▅ ▅no▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ , ▅n▅▅d f▅rom the loo▅▅ ▅, if Crowley doesn't get it under control, it might spell disaster for the mages in his beloved college.

They'd succeeded his expectations as a prefect, so why not bestow upon them another act of kindness?

A knock resounded from the door to the Headmaster's office, before creaking open. Under the candles that lit the office dimly, the prefect looked like one of the many ghosts that toiled in the campus.

"Apologies for the delay," they nodded, curtly greeting the Headmaster, "It took a while to convince Professor Trein to let me into the library archives, but I got what you asked for."

"It can't be helped, I suppose. The lecture he gave me that time still rings in my ears," Crowley picked the bundle of files off of Yuulis' hands.

"Rightfully so," the monotone in their voice wavered, "With all due respect, I don't see why what you did was necessary, nor will it benefit you or your reputation, Headmaster."

His fingers intertwined and rested over his mouth, obscuring what's left of his face. A part of him thought that Yuulis wouldn't question his actions, but it seems they had not let their guard down completely. Not that he blamed them--in a world of villains, it's wiser to play your cards right.

"I've made it quite clear that it was a mutual agreement, yes?" he says, "One day, you'll understand, once you've proven that you're worthy of carrying my secrets."

He sauntered towards them, slow and heavy footsteps circling around the prefect, "Besides, don't you want my help? You won't have to isolate yourself anymore, drifting around from place to place, worrying about hurting other people. You'll be able to live a normal life. It'd be easier for me to help you with your more personal matters like this, wouldn't you agree, my dearest nephew?"

It was probably underhanded of him to take advantage of their ignorance, but it's too late for them. The pact has been made, Crowley isn't sure whether Yuulis could feel the invisible link that binds them together as well, but the matching blue vest he gave them, their new surname, was enough to send them the message.

"It's getting late, come now, I'll walk you back to that rickety old--err, Ramshackle dorm," says the headmaster, waiting for Yuulis to trail behind him, like they usually do.

With bated breath, they come to accept their new circumstances. They step closer to the Headmaster.

"As you wish, uncle,"

#happy april fools!!!#yeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhh #i think i wrote this for twst's first anniversary...time rlly flies lmao #i also changed some stuff from the original.. mostly cus new game info.. & such. and getting a better grasp/having different views on--#the characters #waaaaa #dont think too much on the writing pls...gdghghghg #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #disney twst #twst yuu #dire crowley #divus crewel #twst sam #mozus trein #yuulis crowley

88 notes · View notes

freyyzu · 11 months

Text

SEE YOU AGAIN SOON

it's finally the day of your depature, and you decide to leave baxter with one last memory to hold onto until you can see each other again.

a/n; i'm so head over heels in love with this monochrome man i feel like my heart's gonna burst. thank you so much for the amazing game and loving memories, gb patch i'm going to treasure Our Life always

“Is this everything?” You’ve heard that question no less than three times now since leaving Baxter’s apartment. Once, when he closed the door, twice, when you exited the car, and now for a third time as you’re at the station waiting for the train to arrive.

“I should hope so, otherwise one of my belongings is lost within the depths of your apartment now,” you tease good heartedly.

“Hm,” his concerned frown is quickly replaced by a grin. “Maybe I should hope you did leave something behind, then. It would give me an excuse to bring it to you.”

The both of you share a hearty laugh at that. You hadn’t even been parted yet, but here he was already thinking of making his way back to you.

Well, you did agree to have him come over soon after the hectic rush-planning that was Jude and Scott’s wedding, and the five days that you had spent here wasn’t enough to make up for the five years of no contact. There was going to be a lot to catch up on, and a part of you hoped that you’d always have something to catch up on with each other. That there was always going to be something new to learn about one another—together.

“We’ll call,” you reassure him. His shoulders visibly untense at your words, a softer smile adorning his lips. “And text, the days before you arrive will be over before we both know it.”

Baxter reaches out to take your hand, no pauses, no falters. “Then I look forward to that day with bated breath.”

Your eyes crinkle at the edges, and despite him being the one who took hold of your hand first you decide to turn it around on him—literally. Flipping your clasped hands, you bring it up to your lips in a gentle kiss, his bright, brown eyes following the motion as goosebumps chill their way down his arm.

“Why don’t we take a picture together?”

The sudden question catches him off-guard. “A picture?”

“The frame on your desk was empty last time I saw it, right?”

“Ah,” he looks abashed at that. Even though you had gifted him a picture frame, Baxter had never been able to actually use it for its intended purpose. “You noticed that as well, huh?”

You swallow the words at how it’s a bit difficult not to notice something like that. “What do you say?”

There was simply never a moment precious enough in his life to capture in time until you showed up again, and since your arrival every day felt special enough to be caught in the moment. Now with that offer laid bare in front of him, there was no way he was going to let it go. “I’d say that’s a great idea.”

Setting your bags on the nearest chair, Baxter pulls out his phone and you shimmy closer to his side, his arm reaching out to wrap around your waist almost instinctively. It felt a bit embarrassing, using the selfie function of his phone; he couldn’t remember the last time he ever did if ever.

Though far past his embarrassment was the joy of being able to see your face every day whenever he so wished, even if you weren’t there in person.

The shutter goes off, and at the same time he feels a soft press into his cheek.

The motion catches him by surprise, the only word able to leave the tip of his tongue being, “huh?” followed by your chuckles.

His eyes glance down at his phone, the picture displaying all its glory to you and him. He sports a startled look, the tips of his ears forming the faintest red and of course you’re leaning in, your lips pressed against his cheek with a smile.

“It looks good,” you comment cheerfully, either not noticing or feigning ignorance to the way his entire face has lit up in a bright, strawberry red. “Don’t you think?”

“I-” he catches the same tint of red dusting the edge of your cheeks. No doubt that action had been a spur of the moment decision on your part, rather than a well-thoughtout plan, though at this point he can’t say he’s surprised—if the last-minute party plannings were anything to go by.

An affectionate sigh leaves him, and he leans in, following the bubbling warmth in his chest, hand gently cradling your cheek as he pulls you into a kiss. A proper one, where both of your lips touch and your eyes flutter close, blocking the entire world around you.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers playing with the ends of his hair, and he nearly melts at the tender motion of your hands. Baxter’s spent the last five days wondering how he could be so lucky. To reunite with his ideal, the person he fell for, the one he loved—loves—from all those years ago and how even after a long five years you still haven’t forgotten, haven’t given up on him.

“Baxter?” Every part of you, from the color of your eyes, to your kind, patient personality, to your hands that treat him like he’s glass, to your voice that calls his name with so much warmth.

At one point, the kiss had broken and he bumped his forehead with yours. He couldn’t tell you not to leave, even when every fiber of his being wished for you to just stay by his side, and so he swallows those words. This is enough for now, these five days, the next five years. You’ll make it work.

“I love you.” From this close of proximity, the breath that follow his words flutter your eyelashes. His hand doesn’t move from your cheek, but his thumb begins to rub timidly along your skin, as if afraid you’ll back off if he did any more.

Your eyes gloss over at those three simple words. He was really going to make it hard to leave wasn’t he? Even though you were the one who had been trying to keep it together this entire time. “I love you, too,” you whisper, leaning in for another kiss.

If time stopped there, neither of you would have minded, but it doesn’t, and soon the ring of the train bells force both of you to pull away.

“I should get going,” you mutter with less resolve than before.

“I’ll walk with you to the doors.” Baxter picks up half of your bags again, motioning towards your ride with his head. He looks just as, if not more, insulted than you at the interruption.

“Thank you.”

The walk was short and quiet, there were a million and one things you could have said, but chose not to. They could wait until you met up again. And everyone knows that there was no one more patient than you around here. You’ve waited this long, you could wait a little more.

“I’ll see you in a bit?” Baxter passes your bags over to you. It’s unsure of exactly how long ‘a bit’ actually refers to, but you’ll get your answer eventually.

“Definitely,” you reply. “I’ll see you again soon, Baxter.”

He leans in for the last time, and you’re almost sure he was going to kiss your lips again, but he falters at the last second and moves upwards to press his lips against your forehead instead.

“I feel like if I kiss you now I’d never stop,” he chuckles in jest, though you can hear the full sincerity in those words. “I’ll see you again soon, darling.”

‘Darling’ that was a pet name you’d have to get used to unless you fear for your poor heart exploding.

You give him one last kiss of your own, also on the forehead—he hums contently at the action—before pulling back; the train doors beginning to close.

And when the train finally takes off, and your waves weren’t within sight anymore, Baxter finds himself crumpling to the floor in a heap.

It’s a question he’s asked himself multiple times, more times than you’d call appropriate, but was he allowed to be this happy? A hand goes up to his forehead where your lips had just been, and he allows himself to bask in the feeling.

‘It’s alright.’ He was allowed to be this happy.

A ping from his phone pulls him out of his thoughts, and he grumbles at the interruption. He pulls out the device with a less-than-appropriate mumble though stops completely when he sees who it’s from.

[ could you send me that picture, please?

i’d like to have a memory of us as well. ]

[ Of course. ]

Comes his instantaneous response.

He sends you the photo immediately, and his eyes linger on it for just as long as it takes for you to reply back.

[ thanks! i’ll treasure it ]

Yeah, he is allowed to be this happy.

With you.

And he hopes with his entire heart that you feel the same.

[ As will I. ]

#Our Life #Our Life: Beginning and Always #Baxter Ward #Baxter Ward x Reader #Baxter Ward x MC #i was smiling so much through his whole dlc i gave myself a headache #i genuinely can't put into words how much i adore this game #the characters #and how much i'll miss it #thank you for all the adventures #and i look forward to Now and Forever in the future!

410 notes · View notes