#I wanted to draw cat grim so I could draw him as a human but idk if I have that skill 🤣💔

[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 1: I wonder if you look both ways (when you cross my mind)

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 1 preview:

“Henchman? Are you okay?” “…Yeah, thanks guys, I didn’t realize how sick I was getting… this magic thing is hard.” Snorting at your whiny tone, Ace still looked at you with a bit of sympathy. “It’s that telepathy stuff that’s the problem right? Not magic!” “Although,” Grim spoke up, left your arms and stood on the step instead. “That could just be a unique magic thing, right?” “Yeah! Though it’s basically impossible for someone to have a unique magic active all the time…” Deuce rubbed the back of his head, looking at you frustrated. “You’d probably be blotting, maybe it’s something else?”

[wc} - 3,699

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A year ago today, you, Y/N, entered Twisted Wonderland with nothing but the clothes on your back, a rotting, haunted dormitory, and a fire-breathing cat creature. You were but a mere  human with no magic to defend yourself with and no way to return to your home. Today, after months of sweat, tears, blood and 7 consecutive overblots, you have become known as the infamous prefect. 

It was a title well-deserved for the human that survived the overblots of several powerful mages, especially in the case of your dearest, Hornton (you still called him that even now, he seemed to like it). But it ended surprisingly well, with minimal casualties to the students and to the overblotters. You really should give thanks to the Seven for that.

Though it’s really less impressive than it sounds out loud, as without the help of your fellow freshman, Ace and Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek, and even Grim, it wouldn’t have been possible, as you still remain mostly magicless. 

Mostly.

Despite the mirror declaring you “empty”, and though it was true for most of your time at NRC, it seems that your extended stay has slowly granted you an affinity for magic. At the rate you’re learning at though, you can mostly cast small spells, like light spells in the dark, and small healing spells courtesy of Nurse Goethel. 

You personally found it pretty impressive that you could cast spells now, though the one time you mentioned as much, Ace insisted that you were the equivalent of a little kid proudly showing off a shitty stick figure drawing of their family. 

You choose to view that as a family endearingly encouraging their kid’s budding artistic streak!

Besides, that wasn’t your only budding ability, as you noticed during the graduation ceremony for the seniors. The freshman, per tradition, were in charge of the concession stands before the graduation ceremony. From what Crowley told your class, this was to help build character and build financial literacy, for he was a generous headmage that prepared his students for the real world.

You, of course, knew that it was probably just because it was cheaper than hiring someone.

Here you, Grim, and your 6 fellow classmates worked at a booth outside the coliseum, currently selling bouquets and garlands to the graduates’ families. Soon enough, the conversation shifted to summer plans. 

“Ahh~ I’m super excited to go home! My family’s gonna go to the beach! I'm so looking forward to seeing hot babes!”

“Of course you are Ace,” Jack sighed. “I’m just looking forward to some cooler weather back home.”

Deuce looked over as he adjusted the garlands, Heartslabyul-styled, in his hands, “It’s gonna suck being alone on campus for the next three months. Are you sure you don’t want to spend summer break with one of us?”

“Ehhh? I didn’t say anything like that!” Ace scoffed. “Don’t lump me in with you, Juice!”

“Don’t be rude, Ace!”

“Deuce is right! Y/N! We have room at my home, Meemaw- I mean, Grandma -would be happy to have you!” Epel piped up from behind the booth. “And I’d finally have someone my age with me in town.”

You smiled as your fellow incoming second-years bickered amongst themselves. Jack looked exasperated at the Adeuce’s arguing, as he usually did. On the other hand, Epel was blatantly ignoring the two as he looked at you with puppy eyes, embracing his cuteness (just this once) to convince you to join him home. 

“Cease your arguing! It is unbefitting of you as soon to be upperclassmen to a new class of students!” Sebek barked, looking quite silly as Grim laid on top of his head, a scene that would’ve been impossible two months ago.

“Nyah! Quiet down, you’re even louder when I’m on top of your head!”

“Mm-hm, I appreciate the concern--Grim get off him--but I can’t,” You grabbed Grim from Sebek, who leaned down to your head to help. “Crowley’s giving me a bigger allowance if I stay to care for the fairies again.” 

Grim curled himself in your arms as he pouted. “The cafeteria and school store are gonna be closed again! How am I gonna get my premium tuna from Sam now?!” 

“Don’t whine about something so trivial! Prefect, are you sure you don’t want to spend at least a weekend with me and my Mom?” Deuce asked you once again. 

“Ah, I’d have to ask if the ghosts could cover, but a weekend should be fine, but we’d better get back to the concessions.”

“Right you are, human! We should be celebrating the graduation of our upperclassmen!”

Jack winced at Sebek’s increasing volume, “Lower your voice, Sebek. It’s already too loud with the crowd as it is.”

Wincing alongside him, you rubbed your temples as the noise from the crowd grew with the number of attendees. You'd expect a graduation to be a busy event with loud crowds, but that was before you could hear everyone’s thoughts as well.

It’d started off slow, just after the last overblot, with soft whispers floating in your mind like will-o-wisps in a dark forest. They grew, as fire does, with those whispers becoming more and more prominent. Soon you could hear your classmates daydreams, worries, and secrets, like the soft crackle from a campfire. It wasn’t like you could control it though, each little fire from your peers grew together to become one large, blazing wildfire. In the forest of your mind, one unprepared for any sort of magical blaze, it tore through you, leaving your mind burned and throbbing from the endless feed of thoughts. 

I can’t believe it’s the end of the year already!

Ah! Damn they’re loud…

Geez, Mom, stop embarrassing me, it’s my graduation…

Make it stooooop!

Maybe I should stop for a graduation garland. Would he want an NRC one or Savanaclaw one?

Pleeeease… it hurrrts!

a͔̱ͪ̓̅ͅw ͚͚̜̈́ͮ̾mán,̧ i̷̞̼ ͉͕̟͛̉ͦw̡̭̩͚͒̀̓ḁ̖͎s̶͍̻̩̉́͂ h̠o̒҉͕ṗ̭i̯ͦn͙̒g ̭̱͆ͥt̸o͕̟̫ ̤̓s̸e͉e̦̮̞͟ ̶̑͗h͏͖̠ï̪̻͓ͦ̎m̹̺̼̐͛̆ ̴̻̟̞ḅ͚efͪ͐̕o̖ͅr̦ͧḙ̹ ́ţ͔ͨh̲ͤḙͪ ̼̦̀ć͖er͓̝͕̀̓͐̕em͙͚̑̈́ȏ̟͍̹̓̓n̢̔͐͌y ̡̺ŝ͌̒t̶̪͂ąrt̞ͧeͬͫd̷

It hurts!!!

s̩̝̝ͪ̄̈h̦͉̱̰̾ͬ̄̾i̴͍̹̅͗t̬̬͇̙̳ͅ ̠̫͙̼̯͐̓ͫ͌̒ĭ͕̗͔̺̍̎̑m̛ ̱̣̗̠r͗ͧǜ͉n  n͢i̴̫͐ng̵ͅ ͇ḻ̬͙̠͋͆͆ͬa̹̬͚̺̯̯͔t̔̋ͨ̋ͬ̑e̖̹͚͓͖͚̙̅̌̉͆̌̉ͭ,̢͉͚ ̟̺̄ͦȉ̹͟ ̴͙̫̿ͫh̻͓ͨͦo͛͛̊̂̂̿ͯp̪̙̠̬̗ͣͤͪ̎̆͘e i͚̝͇̲̜̠ͣ̐͌̑̓̋ ͘c̉ͧ͌̓͂ a̳͚̐̚n̤̰̖̮̘͍͖͂͋ͧͯͫ̈̒ ̩͊g̷ͦͯ̈́̿̆̊̾e̴͖̙̲̮̦̰̮̽ͨ̑͌̉̿̅t͉̳̯̙ a ́̄̌ͦ s̈́̏́͟e̝͇̮ͥ͋̀ḁ̯̼̪̮̅̌̓ͩͥ̚ͅt̰̝ͥ̏ ͕̰͇͚͝

what up w ẅ̰̗̠͇͛͗̓h͇̱̥̔̈̽a̮͓t ̛̦̜͓͔̒ͧ͑̈u̽ͧ̓ͨ̾̐͝p̢ ̫͓wì̹͉̹̮t̰̪̝̞hͦ̐ͬ ͐̿th̋̇ͪ̃̊̈̇͏̠̜̯̤̝̯͉e ̴̯͎̦ͨ͐ͩp̅ͤ͆r̠͙̂̔e̥͑͡f́ë͈̭͍́̇ͬct?̧͙̭̥̞͎̬̠     make it stop!!   ȁ͍̘̝̩̄̂̿̐ͅw͇̪̯̥͕̞͚ ̧̭͍͕̼͈͕́̓̋̉̀̒̾ͅmàn͖̝͍̻̹̈͐̐̎̏ ̴ ṯ͇̭͕̼̏̉ͧ͒ͥh͏e̘̠̜͔̖̓̃̑͑̅y͓̣͙̭̤͔̘ͤ̎͂ͫ͛ͩͯ'̸̘̖̺̤̿̇̿̌r̬̰̮̩̜̞̫e͕̠̯̤ͧ̆̌̾ ̳̝͈̞̔͂̅̃l̯̘̻̖͔̝o̤̺̽͐o̪k͖̼̼̝̜̬i̙͕͙̯͈ͪ̆ͦ́̿̌ͅn̥̯͔̗̼ͅg͙̞͓͉͕̽͑ͦͭ͋ ̺͙̻̩̏͆̈́͊k͕͓̣̫͙̖̝i n̩͕̂̎͝d̵̞͖̘̦̳̟̺͂̂ͣ̑ͯͫ̇a ̛͈̺̲̥͉̮͇ͫ̎ͩ͋̍͛͗ s̮͍̘͎̼͔̥ĭ̑ͮ͑͂c̢̪̠k͇̜̾̆.̜̳̘͔̟̙.̦̦̎̓.̹̀̄ͅ stooooop! Ÿ̳̼̱͚̱̹́̈͊͒̅̋̀/͌͢N̠̳̠̰̖̜̻ͤ̋ͪ͒̒̋̆?̣̯͖͖̫̥͒̌̂ͣ̆̚ 

Iş̘̭̺̱͇̖ͧ͛̀̉ͭ̏̚ͅ ̷̜͍̩͈̹̻̥̋́̋͆ͣ̃̚t̼͐hȅ̋̊̉̑ ͍̺͇ STOP IT!!!!! h̖̳͜ͅu͌ͬ̅͆͊͑́҉͈͓̭̮̲̥͓m̹̟̟͇͚a͎̳͉̗̟̳n̥̘͈͚̫̣͉͊̾͗̏̃ͥ̿ ̝ͧg͎̅ő̳͔̖̞̄ͣ́n̪̰͈̝̙̣͕̆ͥ̄ͮ͒ͤͬṉ̖͕̍ͯ̚å̡̼̪͔͍ͦͣ̚ ̒̆͞p̯̝ǔ͙k͎͎̪̜͇͔͒́̉ͨ̓̏e̷̞̺̖?̯̘̻

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

H͇͖̱̪͘e͇͍̲͍̺͈ͅnc̟̘̘̟͖̎̐͊ͧ̅́ḣ̋ͦm̪̚ḁ̟͍͓̻n͊͘?̬͙ͣ͛

“Y/N?”

You felt soft purring against your chest, where you had been clutching Grim tighter to your chest as you hyperventilated. Grim pressed his head against your chin in an attempt to comfort you as tears flowed from your eyes. You could still feel your head pounding when Ace and Deuce approached with concern. 

“You don’t look too good Prefect, do you need to take a breather?”

“Deuce is right, come on let's take you back to the dorm!” Ace placed a hand on the small of your back and began leading you away from the crowd. “See ya later guys!”

“Hey! You can’t just skip out of work like that!” 

“Trappola! Get back here!”

“H-hey wait! Deuce, give back the garlands!” 

Ace continued walking as Deuce ran back to hand Epel the products in his hands. “Oh sorry can’t hear you from here, Prefect is super sick, gotta blast~”

Leading into your friend, you let him guide you to your dorm, Deuce catching up to you as well. While it was still relatively packed along Main Street, even with the ceremony starting soon, the crowds dispersed as you two headed closer to the dorm.

Ah man, the line at Sam’s is super long. Maybe I can cut in somewhere?

Oh look at the Great Seven! Wait, that one’s an actual lion?

The botanical garden is closed! Nooo, I was gonna confess there before we left for internships!! 

As the four of you approached to the dorm, you visibly relaxed as both the voices and thoughts of the crowds quieted down. 

“Hey, we’re here,” Said Deuce, relaxing slightly as you approached the gate to Ramshackle. “You wanna just sit out here for a bit? The weather’s not too bad.”

You nodded and relaxed as you and your friends sat on the stone steps of the dorm, taking a deep breath as only the faintest of voices made their way to your head. From this far away, it made for a more pleasant ambience, like those YouTube “study with me” videos you’d put on for studying back home.

“Henchman? Are you okay?”

“... Yeah, thanks guys, I didn’t realize how sick I was getting… this magic thing is hard.” 

Snorting at your whiny tone, Ace still looked at you with a bit of sympathy. “It’s that telepathy stuff that’s the problem right? Not magic!”

“Although,” Grim spoke up, left your arms and stood on the step instead. “That could just be a unique magic thing, right?”

“Yeah! Though it’s basically impossible for someone to have a unique magic active all the time…” Deuce rubbed the back of his head, looking at you frustrated. “You’d probably be blotting, maybe it’s something else?”

You snorted at his comment, drawing strange looks from them.

“You could’ve just said I’m weird. It’s a well known fact at this point.” Sighing dramatically, you threw yourself down to lay on the steps with your wrist resting on your forehead, tossing back your head for extra effect. 

“Magic or not, I, the Ramshackle Prefect, will always be the strange little human! Whether it’s the strange human with no magic, or the strange human with weird…uh…mind magic!” You heard him snort. “I, alas, remain a spectacle!”

Rolling his eyes, Ace flicked your forehead (“Ow! Ace what the fuck!”) at your dramatics and sighed. 

“You know, I was joking earlier. You can join me—or Deuce, I guess (“Hey!”)—during the break. We’re not all-knowing like a certain housewarden friend of yours, but we can help you figure out what's up with you.”

So far, only Ace, Deuce, and Grim knew about your newfound ability. And while it was the thought that counted, neither really knew anything about spontaneously gaining magical abilities. In fact, no one, not Crowley or even Hornton, really knew what to make of your new powers. Adding telepathy on top of the mix seemed like a good path to trouble. In the meantime, you found it best to keep it between you four, even if you felt bad leaving your other three friends out of the loop.

I bet my brother can help us figure out something, he works at a pretty swanky university back home! 

You sighed and adjusted yourself so that you laid on your side, Grim curling up to you as you looked up at your friends. Ace sat a few steps down, so he could stretch his arm alongside your back, while Deuce laid his head on your waist. 

Almost a year's worth of life-threatening fiascos have led to your closeness to your dearest friends, and Ace’s casual PDA with you and Deuce certainly helped bring your little group close together. 

“I’m not gonna ask that of you, as much as I appreciate it.”

Why not? “My mom would love to have you over! It’d be no issue!” We could meet up with Ace and go to a library or something.

“That’s not the point Deuce,” You responded. “I just want to be able to do things on my own, and do you and Ace even live close enough to do that? Isn’t the Queendom pretty big?”

What? He didn’t mention me. Ace made a face at you as you answered. “Are you reacting to his thoughts?” Man that’s kinda creepy.

“Shut up, Ace.” Sorry… “I’m not trying to be creepy!” 

Deuce smacked his side. “Don’t call them creepy!” Don’t be rude, Ace!

“Ya, what he said, don’t be rude!”

“He didn’t even say anything out loud!”

You blew a raspberry at him, the other Heartslabyul student snickering at his exasperated look.

You’re lucky you’re both cute…and stop laughing at me Deuce!

Grin widening, and migraine fading, you wiggled your eyebrows at Ace. 

“Oh~ you think we’re cute? Deuce, he thinks we’re cuties!”

Eh? Me cute?

“Okay! That’s definitely not fair! Shut your mouth now before you spill all my secrets!” Ace grabbed at you as he tried to cover your mouth, blushing, failing to notice Deuce’s equally red face.

“Nyah!!! Watch it! No crushing the mighty Grim!” The little cat hopped out of the way and into Deuce’s arms as the two of you began to playfully wrestle. “I can’t be smushed before I become the greatest mage ever!”

You and Ace continued to fight for a few minutes, Ace gaining the upper hand as you were already laying down. Eventually, he finished your fight by simply holding your hands hostage in his, and laying across you, preventing any movements other than squirming, much to the other two’s amusement.

Unable to wrangle your hands back, you ceased your movements, huffing. Haha, I win. Instead, you relaxed, finding his presence on your chest comforting, like a weighted blanket.

Silence overtook the four of you for a few minutes, Deuce looking off into the nearby woods, Grim grooming himself, Ace settling in for what looked like a nap, and you gazing at the sky as stars began to emerge in the dusk.

“It’s just…” You spoke quietly, breaking the silence as if telling a deep secret. Maybe you were. “I’ve been so dependent on others while here, and now I feel like I can take that burden off of others.”

Your comment disrupted the comfortable quiet between you all. 

“You’re not a burden,” Not to us. Deuce spoke up, his voice soft. “But I understand, wanting to become independent.” I want the same too. 

“If you were a burden, we wouldn't've stuck around for so long you know!” More brash, but just as soothing, Ace scoffed. We love ya too much for that, anyways. “I think Deuce would agree with me.”

“Besides!” Grim piped up, standing up now with hands on his hips, You’re my henchman! “I need my henchman! You wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without me!” How else are you gonna survive without the great Grim!

You smiled at the three, taking a deep breath. 

I don’t know what I’d do without you guys. I wonder what would’ve happened, if we never crossed paths the way we did. 

Grunting, you push Ace off to the side (“Hey!”) and stood up, stretching your limbs until they gave a satisfying pop. 

“We should probably head back, Riddle’ll probably have both your heads if he finds out you're missing from concession duty.” 

“Ah shit.” You’re totally right. 

They’re right. “Are you sure you’ll be okay though? It’s gonna be way more crowded once the ceremony starts.” Deuce stood up with you, letting Grim take a perch on his shoulder.

Myah! I’m taller here! 

“Hm, yeah I think so.” You held a hand to Ace and helped him up. “I’ll just focus on whatever you two start dozing off about! Don’t think about anything gross though, Ace.”

He threw his hands up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” What? You think I’d think of dirty thoughts? “It’s not like I’m actively trying to think of stuff to freak you out!” 

“… I heard you think about whether or not you’d fuck your own clone—”

“THAT WAS ALL CATER!”

Laughing at Ace’s red-faced embarrassment, your little group walked back to the coliseum to join your friends before the graduation, and the end of the school year, finally commenced. 

Geez, it’s crowded.

Ah man, I hope I’m not forgetting anything. 

I wonder if they’re gonna let us keep our rooms when we get back.

The food’s gonna go bad! Come on, let me get to the mirror!

My internship will start right away, I should tell them goodbye now. 

I wonder who’ll be housewarden now that Leona’s gone. 

I can’t believe I went through the entire year without meeting Idia, my own housewarden!

We can’t lose you!! Come back, I can’t work the lounge without you!!

Groaning from both the noise of the crowd and their thoughts, you rubbed your temples, reminded of the night before. Grim was still at the dorm, peacefully dozing off the morning away. At least this time you could blame your friends for keeping you up at the impromptu sleepover. 

“I told you to go to bed early,” That’s how you get sick, Prefect. 

“Shaddup Jack, that’s not why I’m feeling sick.”

“... I didn’t say anything about you being sick?” Did I say that out loud? “Uh, you’re okay, right?”

Waving off your slip-up, you nod. “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. Hey, who’s gonna be Savanaclaw’s housewarden with Leona becoming a fourth year? Do y’all have, like, a throw down or something?”

Crossing his arms, ears flattening, Jack shook his head. That’s stupid. “No, of course not.” They’d probably do that if they could honestly. “Leona had appointed Ruggie, surprisingly, but he didn’t want it. Said he didn’t want to fight with whoever might become vice housewarden later on.”

“Eh? But I heard that he took it after all!” Epel chipped in, hair swept back in a ponytail and skin immaculate despite the late night activities (damn Vil and his pristine skincare routine). “What made him change his mind?”

“A-ah, well, I uh-” Rubbing the back of his head, Jack suddenly looked embarrassed. “asked me to be his vice housewarden, and I couldn’t refuse an upperclassman’s request.” 

“Woah, what!” No fair! “I can’t believe he asked! Vil didn' even spare a glance at me!” Epel pouted, his accent emerging before he caught himself.

“I mean, good for you Jack! I’m happy for you!” So unfair…

“Yeah man! Don’t be so bashful about it!” It’s super cool! Ace and Deuce approached you two, out of breath from running over, “Riddle definitely didn’t consider one of us for vice! He asked someone from his year to take Trey’s place.”

The pair had woken up late and ran over to pack up the rest of their things (or at least Ace did, Deuce had his stuff already packed, but couldn’t find his shoes at Ramshackle this morning), so both were slightly disheveled. 

“Of course not! Rosehearts would only expect the best of his dorm to lead the rest by example! Something the two of you humans fail to do!” Unlike me! My lord asked me and Silver to take his and Master Lilia’s place! Oh, joy to be considered a guiding leader by the Young Master! 

 “Unlike you two, I was deemed worthy by the Young Master to be Diasomnia’s new vice housewarden!” Sebek chastised the two, dressed in rather prim clothing that didn’t differ too much from his dorm uniform. “If you two were to shape yourselves up, then I’m sure Rosehearts would’ve considered once of you as his vice housewarden!” 

Groaning, Ace rolled his eyes at Sebek, who made an offended noise, before throwing an arm around you. “Hey Prefect, you know our offer still stands-”

“What do you mean our offer, Ace, I made it first!” Deuce grumbled. You’d probably make them clean your room or something as payment.

Shut up, Deuce. “-You can always stay with one of us during summer break! The headmage probably has someone else that can care for the fairies anyways. Enjoy the break with us!” Ace grinned and gave a sly chuckle. Plus, you can wear a super cute bathing suit to the beach with me! Yeah, I know you heard me~

“...Thanks Ace, maybe next time.” Deadpanning, you reached up and yanked on Ace’s ear, who started yelping in pain, as you pulled.”No guys, I promise I’ll be fine! Some of the juniors—or I guess seniors now—they’re gonna be coming to the college during break to solidify their internship credits and stuff. Plus I got the ghosts, so I won’t be lonely!”

Deuce looked at you with furrowed brows and concerned eyes. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, but don’t worry,” you winked. “I’ll definitely be coming by to meet your mom. I’ll let you know so I can figure out the ferry and bus and stuff!”

“Oi! You can’t say that and not visit me too! It’ll basically be in the same area,” Ace whined, he’d accepted his fate with his ear in your hand.

“Yer gonna visit my place too then!” No fair to see just them!

“I’ll be visiting Epel’s place later in the summer, so we can meet then too,” Jack offered, a small smile on his face.

“Then it would only be acceptable to visit Briar Valley too! The Young Master—” And I. “—should be your first visit!”

Smiling at your friends, you felt incredibly lucky to have made a small family for yourself in a home away from home. Soon enough though, each passed through the magic mirror, exchanging promises of visits in the near future, though Sebek’s voice still rang in your ears.

Even when the last of your friends stepped through the mirror, you loitered around the mirror chamber and wished farewell to your other acquaintances and friends. Cater even gifted you a custom phone case before leaving, promising to message you on Magicam when he returned before his internship. As the crowd became smaller and smaller, you yawned and determined that it was time to take your leave and sleep for the rest of the day with Grim. 

Turning to the exit, someone’s peculiar thought entered your head.

Ah, no goodbyes for me, my cute little pearl? How devastating! Why don’t you look my way, cute little Y/N?

Whipping your head around with wide eyes and a flush face, you scanned the remaining students for the person whose thoughts you heard. Searching for someone looking your way, or looking sad, or something, you came up empty. A few students from Heartslabyul, Ignihyde, and Octavinelle remained. From the remaining students, you only recognized Azul and the Leech twins, none of which were looking in your direction. 

Tired and confused, you shrugged and simply continued your leave. Though, not without one final thought entering your brain. 

Finally leaving? Until next year then, my little pearl~.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst jade #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #mochi fic #thoughts of a moray

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: nov. 2023 top supporter: @magical-warlock who's always a darling to work with. I had a little fun with this and made reader a banshee bc immortal lovers yk? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Sebastian Michaelis x banshee! Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: possessiveness, jealousy, Grell bashing (sorry)

You watch from across the alley as the grim reaper drapes herself all over your demon lover. Your jaw grits and you can feel a frustrated scream bubbling up in the back of your throat. Time and time again, she’s pursued Sebastian, her voice hollering out that nickname Bassy just before she does as though coming with her very own warning system. But your darling demon lover is always quick to turn her down with his tongue as sharp and silver as the knives he fights with. 

But while you’ve been out accompanying your young Lord, she’s shown her face again. She claims it’s for work once again but you’re becoming less and less inclined to believe her: why always her and never another reaper? It seems too coincidental to your protective self. Unfortunately for you though, where reapers go, death springs forth and where death goes, you follow. That’s why you’re able to stay in the service of your young Lord with Sebastian at your side: the last of the Phantomhives does not lead a peaceful life. 

With another flip of her long red hair, Grell drapes herself over Sebsatian’s shoulder and you find your patience has run thin. You leave Ciel’s side for a moment, knowing the area is clear and he is more than safe with both his governess and butler present. You step towards the two and take Sebastian’s arm, wanting to make a show of propriety and possessiveness. You might be in an area sheltered from prying eyes but it’s a public space nonetheless and it’s improper for a lady to be all over a man as she is. 

“Sebastian, my love, we should return to the carriage now. Our work here is done and the young Lord should return home.”

“Of course, darling.” He makes a show of taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, shooting Grell a look from the corner of his crimson eyes. You can’t help the smug upturn the corner of your lips make. Sebastian returns your hand to the crook of your arm. 

“ ‘Darling’ ?!” Grell exclaims. For the sake of public decency, you’ve always kept your relationship with Sebastian a very private matter for the sake of your young master’s image in this human society and its countless social rules – but beings like you and Sebastian have no care for a holy marriage and see no reason to participate just to blend in when you could just stay reserved instead. Sebastian’s hand moves to the small of your back in order to draw you closer. 

“Why yes, my darling y/n.” He flashes a closed-eye smile, amused to see Grell’s utter shock and despair. 

“You-! You’d rather this… this… wailing-” 

“Watch your tongue, reaper.” You bite, eyes narrowing.

“A banshee! You’d rather have a banshee than me?! That screeching-?!”

“She does her job as you do yours.” Sebastian cuts in and leans down to press a kiss to your temple while you smile like the cat who got the cream. “You bring death and she alerts those of when it is impending.” You have to stifle your laughter at how Grell’s jaw drops and she’s left a stuttering mess. You cover your mouth with your free hand and allow Sebastian to lead the both of you back towards the waiting carriage and Ciel. You glance over your shoulder to flash a cheeky wave with your fingers as you set a hand on Sebastian’s bicep and give it a gentle squeeze as the two of you part so that he can open the door for Ciel, you following in behind him and sitting upon the bench opposite him, facing backwards. The door shuts the two of you inside and you spy Grell through the little window, seeming to be wrapped up in some despairing monologue of her own. It makes you giggle which catches Ciel’s attention. He raises a brow, the band of his eyepatch raising slightly with the movement. 

“I don’t appreciate the open displays of affection but it was certainly worth it to see that reaper in such a state.” He smirks as he uses his cane to tuck the window’s curtain aside just enough to watch the red-clad reaper in the midst of her meltdown.

The carriage jostles slightly as Sebastian gets up into the driver’s seat and the three of you begin your return to the Phantomhive manor. 

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

That evening, as you prepare yourself for bed, a set of cool hands smooth over your shoulders. 

“I never knew you to be so possessive, my darling~” His words drawl into your ear, breath fanning over your ear before he presses a warm kiss just below it. You let out a low hum of pleasure as you turn around to face him, reaching up to loop your arms loosely around his neck. You stretch up onto your toes to softly brush your lips against his.

“Demons aren’t the only creatures capable of being very protective of what's theirs~” You giggle quietly. His arms coil around your neck and he tugs you closer in a swift motion, pressing you flush to his chest. 

“Ah while that’s true, we are unrivalled~” He has a cheeky smirk on his lips as one of his hands rubs up and down the soft curve of your spine. He pulls you into a slow but passionate kiss, the two of you swaying on the spot as you try to close the non-existent distance between the two of you, wanting nothing more than to be one with each other in this moment. 

“What’s going to happen to us once you’ve eaten Ciel’s s-?” You’re cut off with yet another kiss as one of his hands cups the back of your head, fingertips soothingly massaging your scalp. 

“We’ll figure that out when the time comes~” He kisses your nose and looks down at you with lidded eyes. “My sweet banshee~”

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

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#｡⋆ʚ[ ko-fi roundup ]♡⃛ɞ #black butler x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler #kuroshitsuji

[robo-milky]

[More Info]

Nicknames:

Henchman (Grim) | Claws (Ace) | Clochey Wochey (Cater) | House Cat (Leona)

Shrimpy (Floyd) | Trickster -> La Petite Clochette (Rook) | City Kitty (Epel) | Kit -> Honorary Human (Sebek)

Kit of Beasts -> Heart of Man (Malleus)

In Return:

Master _____ (Everyone except for faculty)

Uncle (Ramshackle Ghosts)

Bio:

An emotionally distant girl who thinks with her brains more than her heart. Her words may come off as insensitive, but it’s always said in a neutral tone. Prefers to state the facts and look for the most efficient way out, than tackling more abstract concepts like emotions. Despite this outlook on life, she is a skeptical, worst-case scenario planner. Cloche will go the extra mile if it means security and success is guaranteed. When it comes anything, be it a task/person/subject, Cloche is the type of person who would want to know anything and everything about it to be prepared. When push comes to shove, Cloche will take on the role of leadership and make all the hard decision no one else wants to make. Cloche is a very “the ends justify the means” kind of person.

Core Values -> Competency + Freedom

Background:

A cosplayer from Earth who, after exiting from a con, took a wrong turn to get home and was swept away by the NRC horse carriage.

Ghost Camera: “I’m pretty sure Headmaster Crowley gave this to me as binding to keep me here.”

Snow Hand Cream: “Master Rook could tell this cream is from Neige’s line just by the smell! Isn’t that impressive?”

Bandaids: “I originally bought these for myself, but I end up giving them to others…”

Advils: “Would you like one? Binding Bells told me you were getting headaches, so…”

Handkerchief: “Here, let me wipe that up for you, Master.”

Hair ties: “Master Epel gave them to me during a joint P.E. class. The day after, I overheard Master Vil complaining about his missing hair ties.”

Pencil Case: “If you wish to borrow a pencil, I expect you to give me something back as collateral— so I know you’ll return it back to me.”

Lollipops: “The lollipops in Twisted Wonderland are great and all, but they can’t beat the taste of Chupachups.”

Thread and Needle: “Oh, you’re missing a button.”

Lactaid: “You don’t need one… do you?”

Scrapbook: “Do NOT touch.”

Textbook: “I’m so close annotating the whole book. Just a couple pages left…”

Spiral bound notebook: “Master Rook complimented the calligraphy title in my notes! …Maybe I should do the same thing for futures ones.”

Phone: “Master Grim, please stop playing games…”

Sketchbook: “Master Epel complained about me drawing him too ‘girly’, but I only drew what I saw.”

Notable Thoughts: Cloche’s

“Headmaster Crowley must be busy running such a prestigious school like this… So busy, I wonder if he’d have time looking for a way I can go back to my world.”

“Master Grim’s orders aren’t as bad you think. All he really does is make me do his share of the chores. The simplicity of his orders are a blessing compared to other students’…”

“Master Ace may be annoying when he exploits my curse, but he can be a surprisingly sweet friend. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Is it bad I felt no sympathy for Master Kalim when Master Jamil overblotted?”

“I feel like I’ve been seeing Epel more and more since he stayed over at Ramshackle for the VDC. I get that it’s probably convenient for him to go with me, if we’re going to head back to the same destination anyways, but he doesn’t have to accompany during short breaks.”

“I think Master Rook is very admirable! He’s intelligent, athletic, and creative! …I wish more people could give him a chance and see him for who he really is— but… he probably wouldn’t like that… After all, half the things I know about him, he’s never told me in person.”

“Before asking Master Idia for homework help, Master Grim and I always play a game of rock-paper-scissors. …Why? Because neither of us want to be the bargaining chip.”

Notable Thoughts: Others’

“Cloche could’a been the perfect henchman if he didn’t have to call other people ‘Master’!” - Grim

“With Cloche around, Heartslabyul doesn’t have to resort to using a cat beastman to play the violin, but an actual cat. That way, we can follow rule 529 without any loopholes.” - Riddle

“Me, friends with that stick in the mud? Pfft—! As if!” - Ace

“Even in a sticky situation, I’ve never seen Cloche lose his cool before. I wonder how he does it…” - Deuce

“I can’t have Leona ordering Cloche around, cause he’ll steal my job!” - Ruggie

“It’s such a shame Cloche refused my offer for him to work at the Monstro Lounge. …We could have made good money and attracted more customers if we used his cat form to promote on our Magicam…” - Azul

“I thought I could feel the claws of a wild beast, but there’s a beauty to reservation too.” - Rook

“‘Master Hornton’, an amusing nickname, indeed. I was under the impression Cloche had known my identity, but it seems my expectations had been subverted.” - Malleus

Extras/Trivia:

- Birthday: May 12

- ISTJ-T/6w5

- “She/Her” is only used in a meta/narration sense, otherwise— she uses “he/him”

- When Cloche is in her cat form, she has no conscious thoughts and move as if she’s on autopilot, like a normal cat.

- Cloche has no distinct handwriting. It varies depending on what she’s writing and who it’s for— yet even then, no two letters look the same.

- Cloche has no inner fur in her ears. It’s to signify that the cat ears are unnatural— fake.

- Has a habit of either covering her mouth with her hand/sleeve or turning away whenever she breaks into a genuine smile. Can smile on command for a camera (cosplayer intuition).

- Goes to the school forest to calm down whenever she feels emotional or if she has an inkling that her feral side will come out

- Cloche has germaphobic tendencies.

Gallery:

Cards:

Groovy!! [SR Tsumsitter]

Groovy!! [SSR Union/Birthday Jacket]

[SR Luxe Couture]

#hiiiii so I made a new cloche bio for the sake of clarity- #now that I’ve finally settled on her lore and I’m taking her more seriously than a silly meme yuu- I think I’m happy with this? #oc: cloche🎊 #cat scribblez 🌸 #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #my art #twst yuu #twst mc #twst ocs #twst disney #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #yuusona #ツイステ #ツイステッドワンダーランド #twst art #twisted wonderland art

[pinkbowsandprettyprose]

VERY long headcanon ask on the Kishigo X Twisted Wonderland isekai AU (feel free to ignore ajdfalksjd) because I have thought about this more than I should.

Ways to enroll at NRC: either you get that black carriage or you isekai. They were probably in the middle of a fight then boom vanquished. A very chaotic entrace during a regular peaceful day at NRC or an important school event like the entrance ceremony.

Crowley starts crying hysterically unable to understand why the universe keeps vomiting random ass teenagers from other worlds on his school. Guess he's gotta keep them until they go home 🙄. Cause he's so kind.

Ichigo stays at Ramshackle with Yuu and Grim. Grim is kind enough to offer Ichigo some of his canned tuna. She eats it.

Quiche either becomes a Ramshackle resident or gets sorted into Diasomnia (Solely because it fits his aesthetic. Can you imagine Quiche wearing the Diasomnia uniforms? The gloves, the little horn hat? Literally all their fits? That green was made for him. That midriff WILL be censored). Someone photoshop/draw this please bLEASE.

Everyone thinks Quiche is a fairy. He accepts this after a while.

QUICHE WEARING THE CEREMONIAL ROBES.

Quiche with the Diasomnia PE outfit except it's the one with shorts Lilia wears.

Ichigo is just considered a beastperson and not human, I guess. She can have her ears and tail out nobody bats an eye. Freedom.

Quiche is literally the perfect NRC student. Mentally unstable, traumatized, villainous, selfish, scheming and has no problem using other people to obtain his goals. He would fit in perfectly in no time.

Quiche fucks around and finds out by picking fights with the bigger fish in NRC and promptly getting his ass handed to him in one way or another. He gets bullied because he's annoying (promoted by: Ace, Leona and Floyd).

People Quiche has picked a fight with: Ace, Sebek, Rook (for hunting Ichigo for sport), Leona, Jack, Floyd (insert spiderman pointing at another spiderman meme here), Riddle, Epel, Kalim, Cater. He gets humbled. Decides to learn magic (Can he even?? I believe in him honestly) to get revenge. Likes flying faster than everyone in PE class.

Quiche says it's not so bad at NRC. He gets to escape the mess back at his own world and his love rival stayed back too, which means he's the only guy Ichigo could possibly fall for. Lilia reminds him this is an all boys school. Ichigo is surrounded by guys.

Quiche is actually good at his classes lmao. Ichigo not so much. Her best subject is animal linguistics and she often talks to Trein's cat.

Considering Quiche is in Diasomnia, him and Sebek would piss each other off all the time. Quiche actively enjoys annoying Sebek.

Ichigo makes friends with Chen'ya because catgirl x catboy solidarity. No catgirl x catboy solidarity with Leona tho, she thinks he's scary. She also thinks the Octavinelle trio are scary. Besties with Kalim. Besties with the Yuu + Adeuce squad (Epel, Ortho, Sebek). Quiche sits with them at lunch. Nobody likes him.

Quiche is hanging out with Ichigo whenever he can. Like a shadow. He does not want competition. Stay away, NRC mob students.

Quiche actually ends up quite liking the NRC experience. Like the environment was made for him.

Rook looks at Ichigo and thinks "mon dieu, le chat! <3" and then hunts her for sport. Just for funsies he's not serious about it.

Holy shit anon you put THOUGHT into this

Publishing just so everyone can read this and also so everyone in my notes can peer pressure this anon into writing this as a fanfic

#asks #thank you for the ask!! #long post

[kenniilovesthethicc]

Today is my birthday! I wrote a self insert crack(?)fic where I get vored

Enjoy!

Birthdays were never dull in Night Raven College.

It just so happens that today, the 5th of September, is Kennii's birthday. While it's been about a year since he got isekai'd into another universe and became the prefect of Ramshackle dorm, it is only now that he gets to party with all of his newfound friends. With the radio blasting hits from the collaborative Playlist made in the group chat, as well as no fighting as of yet, it was a pretty cool vibe. Kennii was drinking a lemonade while Grim was stuffing his face with only the fattest of fish a cat could eat.

"This party's amazin!" The cat mrowed through mouthfuls of quality seafood.

"It is a good party," the magicless human agreed as he looked across the hall fondly at each guest. "I do wonder when the game Floyd and Jade organized is gonna start... and I'm also fearful of what in the world it could even be."

The eel twins had offered (begged) to take part in planning the party's events, and while Kennii was hesitant to say yes he couldn't help but oblige to their cute yet intimidating faces.

"I want no part in whatever ridiculous fanfare those beasts have in store," Riddle sneered, taking a small sip of his tea. "Tomorrow's unbirthday party needs to be situated before my bedtime, so whatever he wants us to do he should begin promptly."

"I just hope nobody dies in this 'game'..." Vil mutters to the side with similar suspicion.

As if willed into fruition, a spoon tapped against a glass to gather the attention of the party goers.

"Hey bozos it's game time!!!" Floyd yowled with glee into the large room.

"Ahem- I believe what he means is; thank you all for attending the prefect's birthday assembly," Jade corrected. "Kennii entrusted the two of us with putting together this celebration, and it is our honor to invite you all to a little game we wish to play."

Everyone sans Kalim gave a dubious look to the tweels. Azul could be seen in the background mumbling under his breath with a slightly embarrassed face (obvious that he knows what's about to happen.) "It's not a hard game, but there's only one prize~" Floyd added while looking over at Kennii.

THAT got everyone's attention.

"Ooo is Kennii gonna smooch one of us if we win?" Cater jokingly asked at Lilia. "If so I need to put on my new lip balm!"

"Meep! The prefect is the prize???" Idia chirped anxiously aloud before typing ▪︎Sorry m8s, I'm gonna win, no cheat codes required▪︎

As the murmurs got around, Jade hushed the crowd again. "Oh, I hear you all are so very curious to know how this young man fits into this game's reward," he begins, walking around the center of the room to draw out tension. "Well, I believe to find out we must begin with a bit of magic."

Kennii looked up at the tall man's face with nervous curiosity: what in the world did he get himself into? Jade offered him a potion of some kind, and many of the potionology nerds went wide-eyed. Oh well, there was already an agreement made, might as well do it.

Gulp gulp gulp...

Pretty tasty! Time to see what the fuck it does. The prefect got a rush of lightheadedness before quickly poofing to the size of a small doll. Ah, it was a shrinking potion recipe. Tasted similar to the limited time shrinking potion from Beanfest to be honest, but way stronger.

"Oh no..." Trey sighed.

"Bloody hell..." Riddle cussed.

"Ta-da! Tiny Shrimpy!" Floyd announced as he lifted the small human to show off like a newborn kitten. "Cute enough to eat, don't ya think?" "What-"

The prefect got an inkling as to what was going to happen to him at the end of this, and he prepared for the chaos. "That's right; if you win the game, you get to eat Kennii~" And just like that, chaos.

The first years all screamed in bewilderment, the remaining second years looked flabbergasted, and the third years side-eyed eachother to hell and back.

"Wait wait wait; you two mean to tell us that Kennii wants to get EATEN?" Ace questioned with a bright blush.

"I never knew he was that strange..." Deuce pondered next to him.

"No kiddin..." Epel concured.

The guests all murmured once more about their opinions on all this madness.

"Well, it's not the worst birthday present all things considered. Better than Crowley's gift at least," Kennii admitted. Floyd sat him back down onto the table as Jade explained the game itself.

"Kennii told us of a party game from his old universe and we wanted to try sharing it with all of you. It goes like this: we compiled several images onto a slide show, and each image is zoomed in. You must guess what the image is to pass and make it to the next round. It gets more pixelated with each round, and thus the winner of the final round will earn the prize." It was simple enough in theory, one would figure.

"This is quite trivial; I shall have no issue competing," Malleus smugly claimed, finding this all very fascinating.

"WAKA SAMA, THERE SHALL BE NOBODY BESTING YOU!" Sebek declared in his loyalty (even if he himself wants to eat the prefect out of jealousy...)

"I guess I'm hungry enough to play. Herbivore does have a decent bit of meat on their bones," Leona remarked nonchalantly.

"And that meat will be in my belly by the end of this, shishishi!" Ruggie snickered while licking his chops in playful hunger.

Kennii definitely had some best and worst case scenarios for the results of this game, but he was very excited to watch the game itself. With everyone agreeing to play (for intended purposes or to save Kennii from said purposes) Floyd booted up the PowerPoint style website on the video board and started the slideshow. "Here's the first one!"

"Shoe!" Multiple voices answered.

"Yup, it's a shoe," confirmed the sneaker savvy eel. "Malleus, Silver, you're out." The dragon prince was surprised, but he accepted defeat. Silver was woken from his quick nap while Sebek was dumbfounded that his prince lost so quickly.

..

The game went on for a few more rounds until there were only 3 boys left: Ruggie, Lilia, and Idia. Ruggie was observant and his exposure to so many random items through his many jobs and experiences helped him gain a lead in trying to get a little snack; Lilia was very keen and while he never indicated if he would eat the small human, he was now in a personal competition against whom he now recognized as his online pal, Idia. He wanted to best that whippersnapper at ONE game at least. Idia was crushing hard on Kennii ever since they were dared to sing a romantic JPOP song together during karaoke night, and he really did wonder what he tasted like. Those carnivorous teeth he has weren't just a design choice, even if most of his diet is candy and soda.

"Prepare to be thoroughly schooled," Lilia teased the boys while they hyperfocused on the screen. "In your dreams, Draculaura," Idia playfully retorted back. With that, the final round began.

"Is it a French fry?" Lilia asked the hosts confidently. "We're sorry, Mr. Vanrouge, but you are out." The old fae nodded in accepted defeat while Ruggie and Idia were the last men standing. They stared for a long, long time, Idia mumbling to himself, before finally Ruggie shouted, "IT'S A MCGRIDDLE!"

With the winning bell sounding off, Ruggie was now the winner of the micro Kennii. "Congratulations, Ruggie," Azul sighed, glad this was settled relatively quick. "Be careful with the giovanotto, he's fragile." "Don't worry, Azul - I'm not as cruel as your cronies are~" Thus, the hyena picked up the little Prefect and swiftly (and safely) plopped them into his warm maw.

GULP!

"Well.." Trey sighed.

"He really did eat Kennii.." Jack stated the obvious for emphasis. Idia was seething and popped an OREO pocky stick into his mouth to cope.

With Kennii now in his tummy, Ruggie was as happy as a clam. "Ahhh~ you're pretty tasty, dude. Not too filling though, but the free food padded me out well enough as is, shihi!"

"Marvelous!" Rook interjected all of a sudden. "I've yet to witness a beastman swallow live prey, and my my, those throat muscles looked fort comme un bœuf as the Trickster made his descent into your stomach, Monsieur Dandelion!" Ruggie had a disturbed look as the hat wearing blond examined his anatomy way too interestedly. "Sorry, Rook, but you've had enough close and personal experiences with my body than I'd like to admit to the class; now if ya would keep the hands off my belly in public..."

Ever since the tickling episode, Ruggie knew well enough not to let the huntsman touch his person while others were in the room.

"Is this a gift worthy of your 18th birthday, Kennii?" Jade inquired from the outside. "It's certainly warm and cozy in here, but the partially digested food is wigging me out a little..." With that reminder, Ruggie quickly cast a protection spell onto the human in his tummy to prevent disaster. "Congrats, Ruggie. Remember to cough em back out before the spell wears off," Leona chuffed as he patted the smaller beastman's abdomen tiredly before making his way for the exit.

"I'm puzzled as to how the Prefect responded to this all," Azul began. "Did you two know he would be this nonchalant about being swallowed whole!?" The tweels simply chuckled mysteriously as they started cleaning up the room used for the venue.

As everyone either helped clean or exit, Ruggie kept a paw on his stomach to feel Kennii's sleepy movements from within his core, a warm hue to his complexion. "Happy Birthday, lil snack~" His belly rumbled in satisfaction quietly through the rest of the day, and he too was ready for a little nap.

The birthday party was now at a close, and it would certainly be one to remember for many years to come 🎉

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twst vore #sfw vore #self insert #this was brain vomit

[bakujho]

I posted 8,781 times in 2022

77 posts created (1%)

8,704 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wizardpotions

@joey-wheeler-official

@miamitu

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I tagged 1,972 of my posts in 2022

#daytime reblob - 28 posts

#lol - 27 posts

#twst - 17 posts

#fuck - 10 posts

#for real - 9 posts

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#anyways - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#she was talking about how this one author in her field is really inspiring and she wants to collab with the person and bounce some theories

I sent 3 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

FLOYD COFFIN PUMPKIN!

See the full post

85 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#4

TWST common headcanons mistaken for canon

I Made a thread on twitter about some of the common headcanons/misconceptions/misinfo about some of the stuff in twst, so thought I could maybe post it here too. (I am working on a few more posts but those will be longer and come later- this is just the simple stuff.)

“Floyd gives fish nicknames as a sign of affection”

Nope! When it is brought up in Ep 4-24 he refers to Kalim as Sea-Otter which Grim is confused about, and Jade goes on to say that he prefers to give people sea-creature themed nicknames. The addition of “sign of affection” was not in the original version!

“Herbivore is only used for Yuu (and used as a sign of affection)”

Nope! Leona calls several characters besides Yuu/Grim Herbivores, it seems to be his “go to” insult. (Ex. rival magift team members etc)

“Cater used to be the Heartslabuyl Dorm Leader”

Nope! He and Trey had been roommates for 2 years, and dorm leaders get their own rooms so they wouldn't have had to share. Also, Riddle mentions that it’s one of Trey’s “upperclassmen” rather than “classmates”.

“Floyd threw a fit first year because he (or Jade) got sorted into a different dorm”

Nope! This one was theorized due to one of Jades home voicelines, but in Floyd’s Beans Day personal story, he clarifies that he teased Riddle during the ceremony until he got blasted with magic.

“Azul and the twins are childhood friends”

Er, Sort of. Depending on where you draw the line for ‘childhood’. They’ve known Azul since elementary school, but weren’t friends with him at the very least until middle school, and only then did he change from Tako-chan to Azul.

“Floyd only calls people he likes/respects by their real name.”

Maybe, but not confirmed. The only characters he calls by their names are Jade and Azul, and Azul’s changed after X amount of years on his radar as Tako-chan. Everyone else, including the staff, have fish names.

“Child-of-man is specifically used for Yuu (and a sign of affection)”

Nope! He refers to the entire VDC group as ‘children-of-men’ in 5-67, as well as humans in general (as in 6-52)

“Malleus redecorated Ramshackle for Yuu after the STYX incident”

Nope! It was fixed by STYX and the VDC gang! (6-84)

“Ortho is a sweet baby that would never hurt a fly”

Nope! Ortho has threatened to destroy the school on multiple occasions (Ghost marriage, halloween, fairy gala) with his proton beam. Not to mention humiliating the Dia mob characters in his Dorm SSR story. ****SPOILERS FOR EP 6*** DO NOT READ THIS ONE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED** YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!!*** and definitely wanted to destroy the world but you know. I personally think Ortho should be allowed to fire the beam, just once, as a treat.

“The Leech Family are Mafia”

Let’s be real there’s a GOOD fucking chance this one is true, but I think one that’ll stay HC because of that Disney label. The information about the Leech family status and business dealings leads pretty pointedly towards fish crimes, but as Jade assures in his first birthday card, it is all ‘VERY normal’.

“X character is __ sexuality”

Schrodinger's canon, all of it is canon and at the same time none of it is canon. All of them are up for interpretation (and will likely always remain so to rake in $$$). The only thing mentioned is that Ace had a girlfriend in middle school. Some characters seem more “coded” (gay, bi, ace, etc) than others, but outside of that one mention of Ace’s ex, nothing has been confirmed.

91 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

#3

Bread.

208 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

#2

Another rant about another eel

It’s been a while since my last eels rant, but here I am again to rant about good ol’ Jade Leech and how the fandom seems to uhhh… gloss over the canon information we’re given and give him whatever personality they feel like. As always, if you don’t care about canon lore, or the blatant information we’ve been given and prefer house husband uwu soft Jade, carry on and do what you will. I’ll put the rest of this under a cut because it’s likely to get long because I am salty and so so so so so sick of takes that completely ignore his canon characteristics to replace it with uwu baby he’s so soooofft instead. At this point I am BEGGING the EN twst fandom to read more than bad youtube translations of the main story only, and read the card stories and events since the characters get their own spotlight and time to actually dig into their personalities because the uwuification of Jade is the *worst*

*ahem*

So, one of the VERY FIRST THINGS we learn about Jade, is that he enjoys playing with people, and using them to best suit whatever plans he’s aiming to achieve. For example, the conversation in Jade’s robes story spells out REALLY QUICKLY what kind of person he is

Jade: Frightening students so quickly after they entered school….. 

Jade: Don’t you think there’ll be plenty of chances to do that later?

Floyd: Eeh~. If you want to tell people something, isn’t it best to say it straight away? That’s way faster! 

Jade: Of course, that’s one way to do it….. But it’s not preferable. 

Jade: The thing I desire the most is not fear, but chess pieces that can be moved for the sake of Octavinelle 

Jade: And in order to get that, one of the most important things is “public confidence”. And to obtain that, first impressions are crucial

Jade: In addition to the country of origin, hobbies, preferences, the food they dislike and subjects they are bad at…

Jade: I also listed all their MagiCam accounts. I just happened to come to know about those too.

Azul: Oh….. And the ID’s listed under “private”?

Azul: Incredible, could it be that you managed to obtain everyone’s private accounts despite their attempts to hide them? 

Jade: Ah, oopsie. It was so incredibly easy to find, I may have accidentally gone and written all of those down too.

Azul: Oh, how terrible. If this list were leaked, everybody would be oh so troubled. 

Jade: In that case, you should make sure to properly manage the list so that it does not get leaked. 

This isn’t some misunderstanding, or fear of Azul to act, or some other misplaced garbage softboy bullshit the fandom sometimes spouts, he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s something that he ENJOYS. It's why he and Floyd work so well together cause Jade will happily fuck with their head before Floyd breaks their bones (standby for the ‘stop uwufying Floyd’ rant cause you know I have one of those too). And Azul knows and takes advantage of that exact fact. None of them are soft uwu babies, they all know what they’re doing, and are exceptionally good at it. 

I’m not sure if this is at large just a “we didn’t read that card or the translation was bad (like the Floyd fish nicknames for affection when it just says nicknames) or read at surface level or inability to understand what’s NOT being said” etc, but I see it a lot. A lot of things about Jade aren’t said outright, because that’s EXACTLY the game he plays to fly under the radar. He’s Monsieur Mastermind for a reason, Rook knows that every single one of his actions and mannerisms is thought out and pre-planned so I don’t understand why some folks out here are refusing to see it, especially when even in universe the characters regularly comment on this exact thing. There’s MULTIPLE instances of Jade using people and being facetious to keep up the facade of Azul’s lackey without much else going for him at all. His magic is understated, he fades into the background and lets Azul/Floyd be the standout Octa students, but he always seems to know *exactly* what is going on and where, and how to manipulate the situation to suit what it is he’s after. 

In his own dorm card he pretends to leave Octavinelle in order to manipulate Vil into doing some free promo work for the lounge, and no one is sure of his intentions the entire time he’s there. Rook and Vil know that he’s using them but can’t quite put their finger on what he’s up to, BUT because he’s so good at his job they let their inhibitions go and let him get on with whatever he’s up to. Jade knows how to act and what to do to get people to trust him, and part of his charm is that he keeps to himself so that there isn’t any negative correlations with him like there are Floyd. It seems everyone is afraid of Floyd’s mood swings, but no one suspects Jade of having any ulterior motive because he’s always so well behaved and kind to people. Even when Kalim is making him tea and he’s thinking to himself that his teeth are going to rot out of his mouth, he keeps up the kind demeanor and drinks the tea, because Kalim could always be a powerful pawn (which he then becomes in ep 4). During beans day 2 Azul mentions that between the twins, Jade is the more dangerous of the two, and who better than the one that knows them best to make the observation. I think it’s pretty obvious that Jade’s favourite type of game is playing chess with those he’s around (he even mentions he likes terrariums because he controls everything inside of them), but I think the focus on mushrooms and mountains sometimes detracts from that. Even sociopaths have hobbies, friends!

And that I think is where it gets confusing for some people, there’s the sociopathic tendencies, but he has friends and likes mushrooms and mountain climbing and smiles genuinely sometimes, so he can’t be all that bad! Except, having things you enjoy isn’t reserved for good people. Plus,  look at the people he’s closest to. Floyd is what I would personally call a psychopath (I know there’s a lot of takes on this, but that’s an essay for another day), and Azul is a few screws loose of being normal himself. They’re all brilliant, but that doesn’t mean they’re good people. Some of the examples I’ve seen for how Jade is ‘misunderstood’ as ‘evil’ are easily debunked by canon, because he almost always says something facetious and creepy afterwards to undermine the ‘sweetness’ of it. Not to mention that good and bad isn’t black and white. You can do good things while still being a bad person and vice versa, and doing good things while being a bad person is Jade’s bread and butter. Twisted wonderland in general is very much about morally grey characters where none are implicitly good or evil, and I think we’ve yet to see anyone *actually* evil, BUT the Octavinelle trio are the closest to classic disney villain bad guy we’ve gotten to see so far. 

To go off topic here a bit, I do wonder if the uwu-fication of the Octavinelle trio as a whole is due to the whole weird purity push that makes it so you can’t enjoy morally grey characters unless you can find the redeeming and good qualities in them. Hmmm. I understand wanting to find the good in people and so on and so forth, but the whole redemption of the villain to be able to like them without getting cancelled or whatever it is is really stupid. Let the shitty characters be shitty, because that’s what makes them interesting. It’s like with Crowley, he’s not a good role model but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad character because he’s a teacher and should be a good role model (or whatever mental gymnastics are there). The point of having a colourful cast is that not everyone is static or good and the characters grow, though sometimes that growth isn’t in a positive way, and that’s okay because it’s fiction. 

Okay back on topic, and back to Jade. 

So if we’re operating on the assumption that not every character needs to be a good person to be a good character, Jade is an EXCELLENT example. He is very multifaceted and if you look at him just on the surface he seems like a really decent dude. He IS very helpful, and he CAN be very kind, and he DOES enjoy wholesome things wholeheartedly, BUT i think boiling it down to those points and ignoring the sea of red flags is the entire point of his character. He wants to fly under the radar and not stand out as a bad-guy. That’s how he gets things done. Even in canon it’s commented on by Trey and Riddle, with Trey being taken in by the good guy act and Riddle mentioning he needs to look beyond the surface because Jade never does anything without reason. I think one of the best examples of how Jade thinks is in Silvers FG card. He immediately changes his tactic when dealing with Silver when the latter balks at Jade mentioning “forcing” the fairies to do anything for them. He immediately sees the change in atmosphere and as such changes the way he interacts with him and takes control of the situation with the fairy to get the results he desires. Silver, being the goodest of boys, doesn’t seem to see the point of Jades plan and words to manipulate both of them into doing the work he needs done. Afterwards, Jade seems amused by Silver’s words that he ‘spoke from the heart’ as if it’s something he himself had never tried. 

Jade: I didn't expect you to flatter them to receive it. You are quite the negotiator, aren't you?

Silver: Negotiator…? I only spoke from the heart.

Silver: If you speak with sincerity, it does not matter if they are human or fae, they will understand.

Jade: From the heart… I see. Well now, that is a wonderful vision.

“Sounds fake but okay” - Jade Leech, probably. This point in the story could be where we see more character development in that Jade learns that maybe shady and underhanded isn’t the best way to go about things, BUUUUUUUT, since the event is an “IF” version of a side event, I wouldn’t count on it happening anytime soon (if at all). Jade is definitely one of the most nuanced characters in TWST (imo) so I think it is easy to miss all of the hints and things that have been scattered between the main story, character stories, voice lines, and events, but once you put everything together I think it it paints a very clear picture what kind of person he is, and unfortunately it’s not the uwu soft boy house husband pushover that most of the EN fandom stuff I see seems to take him for. Again, if that’s your personal preference you do you, but I find it very hard to ignore the information that is SUCH a big part of his character. (Speaking of, I did see a complaint that most of the fandom is with me on the ‘Jade is a sociopath’ front, so like… can someone tell me where to find it cause I always find the opposite) To throw it all out the window to focus on the much smaller parts of his personality I think are doing him and his character a huge disservice by just … missing the point. Jade is a good character BECAUSE he’s a bad person, and because he doesn’t seem to want to be a good person at all. He (and Floyd) enjoy causing problems, and watching chaos unfold, and ignoring it for the less often seen softer points is lame. 

Moving onto how he cares for people. Of course he’s able to genuinely interact and appreciate those that he cares about. His relationship with Floyd and Azul of course is different in nature than it is with anyone else at the school. He’s known Floyd since birth and been friends with Azul since middle school, that being said… that doesn’t mean that there’s no tension there at all. During beans day, Jade mentions he’s glad to be on the opposite side as Azul so that he can challenge him, and can’t wait to see the look on Azul’s face when he loses (rip tho lol). He does provoke Floyd occasionally as well when he’s in a shitty mood, so it’s not as if he’s all sunshine and rainbows with them either. He does after all, fully agree with Azul to wringing the eel slime out of Floyd despite knowing that it’ll be really painful for him, laugh at him when he gets blasted by Riddle at their entrance ceremony and tease Azul after his overblot. In regards to the overblot, of course he’s worried afterwards. Azul is his friend, whereas the same can’t be said for most other people in the cast. Azul is more than a pawn, and though he would likely not hesitate to use Azul if necessary, Azul knows him well enough to help with his schemes openly knowing about any shady reasoning behind it so there would be no reason to. I think as far as friendship goes for him, the only ones he truly opens up to are people like himself (like Azul and Floyd) not because he’s worried that he’d frighten them, but because he wants people that will help him and enjoy the same things as him. His hobbies are his own personal interests so Azul and Floyd not sharing them with him is fine, but when he has the more malicious intentions, as is shown SO many times, he wants to have friends that will increase the chaos rather than trying to diffuse it. Even in his official profile it says that he dislikes being bored. 

See the full post

291 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I have this headcanon that when Azul was still Tako-chan, the twins used to bother him similar to how Floyd bothers Riddle now. Before he figured out their game he'd get angry and fight back, but because he is a slow Tako it didn't amount to much. What it did do though, was make Azul better at drafting his contracts, since the twins would and did exploit every mis-step he made and every loophole he didn't realize he gave them. Once he figured it out, his contracts became air tight since while he was writing them he'd think of the pesky twins and what they'd do to get out of it.

Once Azul realized how they operated he began fighting back by anticipating their actions and countering before they could strike. If he wasn't able to counteract in time, he kept his composure instead of getting angry. The twins noticed the change in his reactions and actions and that's when he went from Tako-chan to Azul. He wasn't just their prey any longer, he was like them. And that was interesting.

So now, they all keep each other in check and on their toes because everything could be a test, and none of them want to be caught in a trap they should have expected. So I think they all work together so seamlessly because they all keep each other engaged and interested because in their three-way power struggle there's no definitive winner.

I also have thoughts on how this would translate to shipping, but that's for another day.

301 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

tumblr out here fucking shaming me. let me live my life. Gonna delete the tags off this one too, eat it, tumblr.

[lord-kiwi-the-wizard]

A date with death

Sam was sitting outside at the Belldoor cafe enjoying a nice coffee. It tasted sweet yet bitter as he specifically order his with cocoa and sugar. The recent imports from Ankh were more abundant this year making goods cheaper.

Are you going to drink that?" His black robed companion sat expressionless with an untouched cup Infront of him.

"OH, NOT AT ALL. IT GOES RIGHT THROUGH ME."

"You ordered coffee just to look at it?"

"ITS A SOCIAL THING TO DO AT THESE NEW ESTABLISHMENTS."

Sam looked around and saw a few patrons watching and gossiping. No one could see death, expect a few trained individuals and those who are about to pass on that is. He probably looked like he lost the plot at this point.

"SO TELL ME. WHY THE FRIENDLY OUTING TODAY? NORMALLY WHEN YOU WISH TO SPEAK TO ME YOU DRAW A SMALL SUMMONING CIRCLE AND PREFORM THE RITUAL. PEOPLE DON'T NORMALLY SEND LETTER INVITATIONS."

"I feel kinda bad just involuntarily yanking you to the material realm whenever I want to pester you with questions"

Death picked up his coffee with the saucer and took a sip. The liquid seemingly disappearing rather than dripping helplessly down deaths spine.

"MOST TEND TO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE"

His eye sockets seemly glowed a little brighter with that line causing a small child to cry and a pack of nearby cats to run amuck.

"well I was wondering why you, that is the physical embodiment of death, allow me so willingly to bring back those you claim."

Death steepled his boney fingers.

"MORE OFTEN THAN YOU THINK. PEOPLE ARE TAKEN FROM THIS WORLD BEFORE THEIR TIME."

"But isn't it their time when they die?"

"NOT ALWAYS"

"BELIEVE IT OR NOT MISS. ERICSSON. PEOPLE ARE ALL ON A TIMER MORE OR LESS. THE HUMAN SPIRIT IS STRONG BUT THEIR SOULS GROW FASTER AS A RESULT. EVENTUALLY IT OUTGROWS THEM AND THEIR SPIRIT HAS NOT GOT THE ENERGY TO KEEP IT TETHERED. SHOULD I REFUSE TO BREAK THAT TETHER THE SOUL WILL BEGIN TO ROT AND NEVER BECOME REBORN OR MOVE ON. YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE UNDEAD CORRECT?"

Sam looked at the boney face of death. He was a man then all but his skeleton rotted away a long time ago. But death is an ancient eternal much like the gods. Is he possibly an undead himself?

"you know I'm familiar with the undead."

"AND YOU KNOW WHY EVEN THE MILDLY INTELLIGENT ONES ARE SEEMINGLY INSANE?"

"years of isolation…"

Death looked grim, a common expression for him and one he was very good at.

"NO. THEIR SOULS EXCEED WHAT THEIR MINDS CAN HANDLE. AND THEY FORGET THEMSELVES IN THE AMALGAMATION OF THEIR LONG LIFE BLURRED TOGETHER INTO ONE... LONG... DREAM."

"So. You take their lives so their lives somehow mean something?"

Death got up from the table and began walking away, scythe in hand.

"MORE OR LESS"

"Where are you going?"

"WORK"

Suddenly there's a loud explosion down the street and a plume of black smoke begins wafting into the air. It's coming from the church.

#lorecraft: tales from drakken #story #my writing

[sleeping-platinum]

This is the best I will ever draw Grim ☠

#MyArt!! #Twisted Wonderland #Grim #I wanted to draw cat grim so I could draw him as a human but idk if I have that skill 🤣💔 #still going to try

[angryskarloey]

Following an ask from @jobey-wan-kenobi, who requested my favourite 3 episodes or stories, I went off on a randy about my top 3 TVS eps. So now imma talk about my favourite RWS book.

Now, this might frighten you, as it was never adapted for TVS, and its not even on the NWR. No, not Mountain Engines - Very Old Engines. Bloody excellent book. Starts with Nancy, which in and of itself is a point. She's one of my favourite human characters - representative of a whole world of young railway volunteers/staff. Loving it. So, our love Nancy starts making a fuss of Skarloey cos he's turning a hundred soon (nearing 160 these days,) and Skarloey decides to regale her with some stories from when he was but a little un, when he really was a 'Crosspatch'. This is Skarloey in his raw, young, energetic form. Now, in modern day, he's wisened, mellowed, developed, etc. He's still pretty spry, but he's not quite as hot-tempered at he was. In this first story, he tells of his arrival. We start in the Works of Fletcher, Jennings & Co., Lowca, Whitehaven. Talyllyn is here which is an absolute win. She's green, which was accepted wisdom at the time, but it's actually been found that she and Dolgoch were red when built in real life. I think that's a great window into the time this book was written. The details of the illustration are beautiful.

The workman poring over a drawing of the engine, the endless fittings on the engines, the Company name on the building through the window, the pictures here are some of the best in the RWS. So we get Skarloey to Sodor by ship, and make a meal of him being unloaded ('they nearly turned me upside-down'.) It is incredibly entertaining, his expression is so delightful. He's shitting himself quite visibly. So, then we meet an S&M loco, which is grim really, for reasons discussed in a previous post regarding the general inefficiency of the Company. The rigging of the ship here btw:

Excellent world-building though, which is why I love this whole book really. Anyway, Skarloey's in a shit mood, understandable tbh. So they take him up the yard, and stick him on the rails. It's unclear how - but they do. He then gets foxed by a gravity train, and again he is brand new at this time.

The box tank just vibing in that illustration is lovely. The building being put up on the right is a consistent thing throughout this story. So they tell Skarloey, 'matey boy, take some wagons.' He goes 'take em up the arse, I want coaches.' So they try and steam him up:

And it goes really poorly. The bricklayer is laughing his tits off, Mr. Mack is so wonderfully inept, like, he doesn't have a single Scooby what's going on. The fireman is completely black, and Rheneas' cat is looking on with disdain (well, it becomes Rheneas', if you ask Jobey.) Mack is thumbing through his book, completely foxed by the numbers, trying to show the equally confused workmen what's what. (Early AFJR scenes right here, also drawn straight from the real events on the Talyllyn.) So eventually, Mack goes 'take it up the arse, we give up.' This whole sequence is my favourite bit from any RWS book ever, and gave rise to my favourite react face, and my profile pic. And username. He is such a teenage mood here and I can't get enough of it. Like, even though my own OC's have an average IQ of about 3, Skarloey here is just the most ingracious, recalcitrant thing and I adore him. So then Nancy interjects in her own delightul fashion, and we discover Skarloey has acquired an audience. We end here the first story, and let's go onto the next exciting installment, Bucking Bronco. Mr Bobby is here now, wahey. He's another of my favourite humans, and apparently one of the few who Actually Knows What He's Doing. He gets Skarloey to work in an instant, with as much deftness and efficacy as could be expected of a locomotive engineer. So we learn the line is getting inspected soon, and needs completing. Skarloey, who's now cleaned up his act, aids this task to the effect that when Rheneas is delivered (it's now 1866) the railway is complete. It's not the SR that we would know today, but it's a functioning, full-fledged line. It just needs the bloke from the Board of Trade (Cpt. Tyler, probably), to come & have a look at it. This a great bit of realism, as you would need a BoT certification to carry passengers, and for that you'd need an Inspector to call. The Rev. W Awdry would have been intimately familiar with the process, and its a Victorian tradition that, having beguiled the inspector into taking a most tolerant view of working practice as possible, that the railway managment would be left to get on with the job.

Rheneas is so done with Skarloey's bullshit already I love it. Another box tank in the background. Skarloey's safety valves are going mental. We learn he's to pull the Director's Train that day, and the Inspector's Train the next. So if you've never read this you kinda go 'yeess my boy this is your big moment don't blow it.' If you have read this you're now going 'oh... oh no...' We meet the coaches, which is nice. I love how individual they all are, especially Agnes.

So we get to Judgement Day.

Another box tank, and the only glimpse we get of S&M coaches. The old-fashioned non-semaphore signals on the platform are so beautifully accurate, you can tell research was done in getting those right. The number of top hats in this illustration is legendary. Agnes is spewing out actionable threats. Usual day on the SR in the 1860s. Anyway, the train leaves on time, Skarloey is on Cloud Nine, the upward journey goes fucking fantastically, all is well in the world. On the journey down, the Manager takes the controls. Skarloey is picking up speed, and goes full Zebidy on these fucks. Top hats fly like grapeshot as he accelerates, then in about four seconds, the Manager is fucked off into a bush. Poor sod. Train stops, manager goes to have a sulk in the brakevan. Skarloey realises this has Not Gone Well, and they return home.

Skarloey is on the verge of tears hear. Mr. Mack's top hat is crippled out of shape. The directors are furious. They order Rheneas to take the Inspector's Train. He does so to the effect that the railway opens. Meanwhile Skarloey is having an arse job done, and returns in the next story, Stick-in-the-Mud, as a six-wheeled engine with a cab. How swanky. He boasts about it endlessly, pissing Rheneas right off. The coaches are loving it ('such a handsome engine, six wheels and a cab, so distinguished, it's a pleasure to see him!'). So the manager realises these two are fucking each other off constantly, and shoves em back to back like a Col. Stephens light railway disco.

So then one day it rains real bad. Now, Skarloey is from Cumbria, he knows all about heavy precipitation, but even this a lot for him. Too late he sees some earth has slithered down onto the line, and he buries himself inside it like a Kent & East Sussex Railway track subsidence disco.

Shit, wrong image:

That's better. The did ask Rheneas to assist, but he and Skarloey have obviously fallen out, so he says to stick it. Until he hears that there are people up there too, so in a very in-character Rheneas move, he mobilises to rescue them. He doesn't care what happens to Skarloey though. He finds them in a bit of a mess, but it's not nearly as bad as it could be. Skarloey has been partially freed, and apart from being cold and wet nobody is harmed. Rheneas rescues the train, and its never made clear how they resolve the landslide but evidently they did at some point. So we take Skarloey home, and he apologises for being swanky. He really was the Stick-in-the-Mud after all. It's a very nice early arc for him, he's mellowed out already even in this early period, and it puts him onto a path of growth that is consistent in the books set in later days. The TVS hoses the whole thing tho, sooo....

There's a 4th story in Very Old Engines, but all I can remember about it is that Peter Sam was... Not too bright and that it was set in the modern day. Skarloey made a speech about Talyllyn, I think. Can't remember the name of the story, but I recall it was a nice, reflective conclusion. This post is now very, very long, so if you've made it - well done! I'm leaving this here, my thumbs hurt.

#ttte skarloey #ttte rheneas #ttte #rws #this was more an abridged plot then my opinions lol #i enjoyed writing it tho #hope jobey enjoys this one #better bloody do

[labarch]

The boy who came from Slistas: in which I theorise that Qifrey is a tree

So I have read Witch Hat Atelier, I have connected way too many dots, and I have concluded that Qifrey is a silver tree who was turned human and experimented upon to allow the Brimhats to perform blood magic. And he is a little freaked out about the whole situation.

Please come dive down that rabbit hole with me (detailed spoilers up to Chapter 40 under the cut):

There are indications early on that silver trees have ties to blood magic. Silver trees are described as very human-like, and possibly sentient: the magical ink taken from their sap is described as the tree’s “very blood”, a legend claims that a silver tree fell in love with a witch, and Beldarut claims that these trees, like humans, choose where they live and are capable of some form of self-determination. According to the shopkeeper Nornoa, it’s a mystery why these trees are so different from others, and integral to drawing magic. A side theory here could be that silver trees started out as humans, and that the act of drawing the sap of silver trees to get magic ink began as some manner of blood sacrifice. Which brings me to my next point:

Iguin the Brimhat is a blood magic user, and this plays a role in his overarching scheme. We know that he wants Coco to embrace forbidden magic to disrupt the statu quo established by witch society, but it seems to be only one facet of his plan. Early in the story, he is shown pouring his own blood into Coco’s inkwell, giving her the enhanced magic that leads her to alter a whole landscape. What’s a bit puzzling here is that the ink is described as “blue-tinged” by Nornoa when he examines it, and he says it is mixed with a lot of different components. So, presumably, blood alone isn’t enough to make magic happen, but it can be used as a magical enhancer. Or, at least, Iguin’s blood can: whether he achieved this by experimenting on himself, or whether any blood can work as enhancer when mixed with the right ingredients, hasn’t yet been explored. In any case, this resonates well with the mythos of the near-sentient silver tree and its magic-giving blood. Iguin has this troubling line while drawing out his blood “How long can you hide the fact that magic is just a lie?”, which points to the idea that there’s a secret about the origin of magic that witch society either forgot, or chose to cover up.

Which brings me to our favourite overzealous secret-bearer, Qifrey, and his possible links with Iguin’s plot. Iguin is our primary suspect for stealing Qifrey’s eye: he seems familiar with him from the beginning of the story (“I’ll teach you everything that Qifrey won’t”), and they are natural foils in the narrative, being rival teachers to Coco. There is also the theme of the eye, which Iguin uses both as his mask and as his namesake “Lidless Eye, Sight of the world”. Until the story gives us further elements, it is natural to assume that Iguin’s plan, the experimentations done on Qifrey, and the plot Qifrey feels duty-bound to stop, are all parts of the same whole. Qifrey’s urgency to stop this plan “before anyone finds out” mirrors Iguin’s earlier line “how long can you hide that magic is a lie”.

Qifrey was experimented on with “a new type of magic”. The forbidden magic we have seen so far had a lot to do with human transformation, and particularly with turning humans into animals or objects (the petrification of Coco’s mother, Sasaran’s accidental hybridization with his own cat, Eunie’s transformation into a scaled wolf, the gilded people of Romonon…). The natural opposite of that magic would be one that gives human shape to an animal, an object - or a silver tree, so that a new type of magic ink can be harvested from it. Having his eye plucked out would then work as a grim parallel to the way witches gain magic by cutting out branches from silver trees. It may even be because of that stolen eye that Iguin is able to perform blood magic. Also note that Slistas, the forest of shadows in which Qifrey was found, started out as a forest of silver trees until a necromancer used it as experimental ground to bring the dead back to life. You could imagine that a few silver trees would have survived the corruption of the forest, and could have been used for the Brimhats’ experiments.

There’s some more shared symbolism between Qifrey and silver trees, starting with their color schemes. The role of silver trees as givers of magic matches Qifrey’s role in the narrative as the one who introduces Coco to the magical world. There’s the comparison drawn by Beldarut between Qifrey seeking a home and a silver tree choosing a place to take root (Qifrey is clearly most comfortable when surrounded in nature and loves nothing more than frolicking in the countryside, if that counts as a proof).

I also found it interesting that in chapter 40, when Qifrey reveals that he has been a test subject for a new type of forbidden magic, the panels then alternate between Olruggio’s shocked reaction and shots of what looks like an unfurling silver tree.

From a wider story perspective, Qifrey’s backstory would be an interesting twist in Coco’s journeys and struggles, which center on the ethics of magic. If Qifrey owes his current human life to forbidden magic, is he de facto illegal according to the rules of witch society? Plus that sort of reveal would be a shocking enough revelation to explain Qifrey’s desperation and rashness, while still retaining the whimsical atmosphere of the manga (Coco! Your professor is actually a magic tree person! Please make sure he gets good soil and plenty of natural light).

Aaaaand that’s my deep-dive pet theory! Thank you so much for reading, and I’d love to see some of your speculations on the manga as well!

#witch hat atelier #qifrey #witch hat meta #magic trees #treefrey

[delimeful]

to taste your beating heart (5)

warnings: blood, miscommunication, imprisonment, arguing

-

Logan met Virgil-- Anx’s eyes over Patton’s shoulder, and watched as his gaze went from bewildered to guarded in half a second.

In the next moment, Anx had shoved out sharply, pushing Patton away from him hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps-- just far enough to be outside the protective ward, Logan noted. 

As though to cover up the fact that he’d just stripped himself of a potential hostage, Anx stiffened up to his full height, fangs bared at them all.

“Careful!” Roman snapped in an eerie parody of Virgil’s normal catchphrase, rising to his feet as Patton narrowly avoided overbalancing.

“No, no,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes without any shame, “it’s my fault, I should have asked first. I always get kind of emotional after thralls break. My apawlegies, Anx.” He accented the words with a flap of his cat hoodie sleeve.

Logan had time to notice the way Anx’s face twisted-- a mix of confusion-amusement-wariness that was familiar from Virgil’s first weeks working with them-- before Roman cut in with a startled shout.

“The thrall is broken?!” he squawked, head whipping back and forth between Patton and Anx. “Since when?”

“None of your business,” snapped Anx.

“Pretty much as soon as I walked in!” cheered Patton, at the exact same time. He paused. “Whoops, sorry, Anx! Did you want that to be... confangdential?”

“Boo,” Roman called, instantly distracted by the bad wordplay, “That was a reach.”

Logan let his audible facepalm speak for itself. “Out of the way, please, Patton.”

Patton obligingly shuffled to the side, and with every step closer Logan took, Anx folded inwards like a snake rearing back to strike. Seeing Virgil’s body bracing for the worst at his approach made something in Logan’s chest pang oddly, but luckily he was well practiced at ignoring such things.

Once at the edge of the circle, he crouched and inspected the activation key. As expected, nothing was out of place. Logan doubted Anx had been awake long enough to even consider tampering with the circle, let alone attempt it.

Now that the ash had cooled, the spell would be vulnerable to outside influence. It wasn’t as big of a concern anymore, seeing as the thrall on Patton had been removed, but Logan wasn’t one to leave things half-done.

… Also, if left unattended, Patton would probably free the vampire without telling anyone even without being under thrall.

Logan set his palm on the activation key and nonverbally cast a warming spell, reactivating the part of the spell that singed any unauthorized fingers messing with his circle. He could add the warming charm into the circle’s layout later, when there wasn’t a twitchy vampire watching his every move.

Despite his efforts to make his spellcasting subtler than usual, Anx still seemed to go still and stiff like hunted prey when the change in the spell sent a mild warmth into the air around them. Those uncanny purple eyes flickered between all three of the hunters for a moment, and then seemed to settle for glaring at nothing.

“So, Draculame, what prompted the sudden change of heart?” Roman asked, arms crossed over his chest.

His tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but Anx’s bristling only increased, likely at the nickname. It had taken a while for Virgil to realize Roman’s ruder habits weren’t mean-spirited. It seemed like Anx would have to relearn that.

Provided they got that far.

Shaking the rather grim thought away, Logan tilted his head at the vampire. “I’m admittedly curious as well.”

Anx hissed at them, which they probably should have expected. It probably said something about their friend that this had already been standard Virgil behavior before he’d been turned. It was almost nostalgic.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not vamptagonize him!” Patton cut in firmly, ignoring their groans. “It’s almost dawn, so how about we call it close enough to morning and have some breakfast? I’ll make pat-cakes!”

He swanned out of the room without waiting for an answer, nearly hip checking the doorframe as he went. For a moment, Logan half-expected to see Virgil fall in a half-step behind him, like a particularly emo shadow. The absence was jarring.

“He hasn’t slept tonight,” he finally said, capturing Roman’s attention. “Make sure he doesn’t use salt instead of sugar?”

“And meanwhile you will be…?” Roman prompted doubtfully. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Figuring out a way for Anx to safely move to the kitchen, as Patton no doubt wants him there,” he replied, raising a hand to forestall any protests. “I took precautions.”

Roman threw his hands up dramatically, shot Anx a warning glare, and then turned to leave.

“Ugh. There goes my appetite,” he grumbled as he stormed out the door.

Logan allowed himself a sigh and then turned to face Anx. The vampire was still staring at him oddly. “I will be placing a pair of enchanted cuffs on you. They have no chains and they will not hurt you, but if you move against any of us with malicious intent, they will freeze in place.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you move against me?” he challenged automatically, lip curling. “Stand there and take it?”

“The cuffs will not stop you from running or hiding,” Logan told him, “and you’ve proven yourself to be skilled at both of those things in the past 48 hours. None of us are planning on attacking you, but you will have options regardless.”

This wasn’t how he would have reassured Virgil, but this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, the one that trusted him. He couldn’t soothe Anx’s cognitive distortions, not when he was barely more than a stranger.

He retrieved the shiny black cuffs from a nearby cabinet. They hadn’t had a thrall aggressive enough to use them on in months. “If you’ll put your wrists forward, we can proceed. Otherwise, Patton will be bringing breakfast to you, and I’d prefer not to get syrup or blood all over this room.”

Anx eyed him warily for another few moments, but eventually Logan’s patience paid off, and he stuck his wrists out with a growl. Logan reached past the barrier without any trouble and clicked the first one into place. Before he could proceed with the second, Anx’s hand flipped around and grabbed onto Logan’s wrist tightly.

Logan’s head jerked up to meet Anx’s gaze, already shifting his weight to counter a pull, but the vampire didn’t move further, just stared at him intently. “I know what you are.”

He clearly expected some kind of dramatic reaction, but Logan wasn’t in the habit of those, particularly not for such vague accusations. “If you’ll specify?”

“You’re a witch,” Anx said. “I saw you tamper with the circle without any instruments. You have natural magic.”

Logan felt his stomach sink slightly. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, but it still made something in him twist to think of any version of Virgil blackmailing him over his magical heritage. “And what of it?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“You’re living in the same house as hunters. You’re doing magic right under their noses, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Anx scolded, sounding more like Virgil with every word. “Do you need help getting out?”

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what sort of face he made in response to this endearingly dense offer, but it was apparently enough to make Anx frown with uncertainty. He held a hand out for his other wrist and clicked the cuff on it without any problems, and then deactivated the circle with a simple gesture of his hand over the key.

Anx’s eyes flicked to the door, and Logan tried not to think about him darting out into the early morning sun. He turned and headed to the door.

“Follow me, and you’ll get your answer.”

While traversing the halls, Logan resisted the persistent urge to check behind him. Gone were the slight shuffled footsteps that had previously accompanied Virgil’s presence, replaced by Anx’s supernatural silence, as though he was gliding over the floor without even touching it.

He entered the kitchen, where Patton had evidently wrangled Roman into setting the table. Whether the four plates set out were out of habit or Roman reluctantly accepting Anx’s presence at the table, Logan wasn’t sure.

He cleared his throat, making both of them look up from attempting to draw funny faces with the pancake batter.

“Observe,” he instructed, and then drew a sigil in the air and lit a simple flame in his hand. Behind him, he could practically hear Anx go as stiff as a board.

“Are we showing off?” Roman asked, a bit excited but completely unsurprised. “Should I perform a monologue?”

“Great spell, Lo! No arson in the house, though,” Patton added in a bright chirp. “After all, I have enough ar-sons here already!”

Logan doused the flame by clenching a fist, giving Patton a Look that went blithely ignored. “You two are incorrigible. That was a simple demonstration.”

He turned to Anx, who looked a little shell shocked.

“As we’ve informed you, ‘hunter’ is a title that we use mostly for convenience and ease of access to jobs. We help magical beings just as often as average humans, if not more frequently.”

“We tried out ‘Protectors of the Innocent’ for a while, but it never really caught on for some reason,” Roman added, subtly sneaking a piece of bacon from the serving plate while Patton’s back was turned.

“Perhaps it would have worked better if someone hadn’t only put P.I. on all the business cards, resulting in us being mistaken for Private Investigators and all of our calls being about spousal infidelity for a solid two months,” Logan snarked back, moving past them to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge.

“The printing office charged by the letter!” Roman protested, and then recoiled from the countertop as his next attempt at sneaking ended with his fingers smacked mercilessly. “Augh! Forsaken by those dearest to me! What cruelty!”

“No sympathy for bacon thieves,” Patton chided, wielding his spatula like an instrument of mass destruction. “Go sit!”

Logan seated himself as well, and turned to Anx, who had been watching the banter play out from the doorway with a somewhat dazed expression. “You’re welcome to sit. Patton will likely insist on it, actually.”

“You people,” he enunciated slowly, “are crazy.”

“You get used to it,” Logan assured him with the certainty of someone who had heard this exact phrase from Virgil before. He checked his watch. “It has been some time since you last ate. I can retrieve some stored blood from our refrigerator.”

“Actually,” Patton set a plate stacked high with pancakes in the center of the table with a plonk, “I figured I could just be Anx’s donor for a while!”

Roman, who had just stolen a sip of Logan’s orange juice, did a movie-perfect spit take, and Patton slid the pancake stack swiftly out of range of the spray.

“It will be 55 days before you are viable for another blood donation,” Logan recited the fact automatically, but he was just as thrown off as Roman.

“Not if he drinks from me directly!” Patton retorted, a beacon of cheerful composure.

“What?” All three of them replied, at varying levels of screech.

Anx shot a wild-eyed look at the room at large and took a step back, as though physically distancing himself from the idea.

“Patton, you can’t be serious!” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, looking distraught. “Fangs For The Memories over here might look like Virgil, but he’s proven quite thoroughly that he’s not! We just got you un-thralled, clearly he can’t be trusted not to take advantage of you!”

Logan noticed Anx wince, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the harsh assessment or Virgil’s name being spoken.

“Me not being thralled anymore is exactly why we can trust him not to hurt me,” Patton said, chin tilted up stubbornly. “He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he fixed it anyway! That’s more than good enough in my book.”

“Well, maybe your book needs some copyediting!” Roman snapped back, exasperated. “So his unbeating heart isn’t as completely shriveled up as it originally seemed! So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who thralled you in the first place!”

Logan cut in, physically moving between them to break up the beginnings of a shouting match.

“I have to agree that this is a bad idea, for a multitude of reasons,” he started, raising a quelling hand before Patton could protest. “The matter of Anx’s trustworthiness aside, you shouldn’t be directly donating blood to any vampire. It is an unnecessary risk to your mental and emotional well being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, apparently keen to seize allies where he could. He gestured expansively, looking at Patton with earnest eyes. “You’ve come so far, Pat. We don’t want to see any of your hard work undone. Virgil wouldn’t want that either; you know he’d fight this harder than any of us.”

Patton’s face had softened at their-- Roman’s sentimental worrying, but even bringing Virgil into it couldn’t sway his determined course.

“I know you guys just want me safe, but this is something I need to do. Even if it is a risk, I can’t be held down by this fear forever. And who better to help me than Anx!”

“Literally anyone who hasn’t threatened to kill everyone here in the last 48 hours,” Roman moaned, dragging his hands down his face.

“Besides,” Patton continued, undeterred, “this way we don’t have to worry about our emergency transfusion supply going low! It just makes sense.”

Logan had to begrudgingly agree. Between the hassle of trying to explain why they suddenly needed significantly more blood and the fact that a vampire drinking directly would replenish blood cells at a much higher rate than drawing blood, the best option really was to have a direct donor. He simply didn't want it to be Patton.

Unfortunately, his odds of actually being able to stop Patton were quite low.

“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Anx grumbled, having retreated to the hall like a skittish feral cat.

The vampire seemed almost more unsettled by the idea than either of the other objecting parties, despite being the only one who directly benefited from the hypothetical arrangement. Nervous about their responses if he agreed, perhaps?

“We can at least give it a shot!” Patton insisted, coming a little closer to Anx and reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. It spoke volumes that the touch wasn't brushed off or rejected. “It could end up helping us both! And if it doesn’t, we’ll just find another way! You won’t be in trouble for messing up, okay?”

Anx blinked, slowly, still looking somewhat unconvinced that this was reality. Still, after a few moments of exposure to Patton’s encouraging smile, he dipped his head in a nod.

“Okay.”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #vampire au #ttybh #to taste your beating heart #writing #my writing #well. hope this is good.

[twistedlymad]

Hi!! I really love your Twisted Wonderland stories!! They make so happy!! I love the way you write the characters! If you��re still taking requests could I plz have a story of MC and the gang playing truth or dare where Grimm asks MC if she has a crush on anyone to get at the boys? And MC won’t tell so the boys try everything they can to see who she likes? I leave the ending in your hands! I understand if you won’t accept this request but if you do then I’ll be so happy!! Ok thanks YOUREAWESOME!!

Okay, let’s settle something first. And that is: I am NOT awesome.

You guys are the true awesome ones! You guys have so many ideas! My inbox is filled with requests of which I never knew could happen! Thank you all <3

Also, I have never fully immersed myself into a game of truth and dare :’) And now I’m writing a story on something I’ve played but not full heartedly. The irony is strong :’)

Thank you for requesting this story! I do hope it lives up to your expectations! Thank you again and have a lovely day!!

What if you played Truth or Dare? (Ft. Grim, Ace, Deuce, Sebek, Jack and Epel) (Riddle, Vil, Lilia and Ruggie are mentioned)

“Fgnaaaaa (Y/N), I’m bored.” Grim said while laying on your lap. You and him were doing your homework in your dorm.

“I know, but, when we finish, we can go out and meet up with the others. I’ll even throw in a can of tuna or two. How does that sound?” You said, trying to coax the furball into doing his homework.

“When you put it that way!! Fgnaaaa!” And the furball was more excited to do his work. You gave him a head pat and continued on your own work.

After about an hour or two, you two had finished your homework. You sighed and closed your book, you turned to see Grim dozing off to dreamland. You shook your head, giggling and gently nudged him awake.

“Come on you furball, it’s almost time to get dinner, we don’t want the others to worry about us right?” You said, picking Grim up and placing him on your head. Grim yawned a little before going to sleep on your head.

You had a nice little walk to the crowded cafeteria, when you arrived, you saw your friends sitting at a table not far from you. They were chatting with smiles on their faces while you went and grabbed yours and Grim’s food. After doing so, you went over to the table where your friends were sitting and sat yourself down.

“(Y/N)!!” The others called for you and you just shushed them. They were puzzled until you pointed to the sleeping furball on top of your head. They looked at each other before nodding and snickering. You smiled and slowly set the sleeping furball down on your lap and took a bite out of your dinner.

“So, how is everyone doing?” You asked your friends and multiple groans were heard.

“Riddle made me feed the flamingos wearing pink again today!!” Ace said with a sigh.

“I had to change the color of roses in the garden to white for the whole day.” Deuce said, taking a sip out of his drink.

“Ruggie-senpai dragged me around the whole school looking for Leona-senpai… Turns out he was sleeping in a tree at Main Street. I wasted a whole afternoon doing that.” Jack said.

“Hah! You guys don’t even know what is true hardship. Vil and Rook taught me on ‘fine dinning’ and ‘proper table manners’ the whole day! I don’t get it! IT’S FOOD SO YOU SHOULD JUST EAT IT.” Epel said, the last part in anger. You patted him gently as a gesture to calm him down.

“Malleus-sama was nowhere to be found when school ended, so me and that stupid Silver spent the entire day searching for him. We could’ve been done earlier if that human wasn’t so slow. I can’t believe he can let Malleus-sama out of his sight!” Sebek said.

“Ehh? Didn’t you also let Malleus-senpai out of your sight?” Epel asked the Diasomnia first year. The latter froze a little.

“N-No. Malleus-sama’s class wasn’t near mine at all today. It’s clearly that human’s fault.” Sebek said.

“Sebek, I’m sure Silver-senpai didn’t mean it. It’s just that Tsu- I mean, Malleus-sama likes taking walks around the school without anyone knowing, right?” You said, in hopes of calming down your friend.

“Hmm… Maybe you’re right, but still-” Sebek tried to argue but you cut him off.

“Sebek, it’s alright, mistakes happen all the time, let it go.” You said and sent a smile to him.

“A-Alright.” Sebek said, going back to his meal.

“You know what? Since you all had such a terrible day, let’s do something after dinner to clear your minds of it!” You suggested to your friends, their eyes lit up after you’ve said so.

“Yea!! But, what should we do?” Ace asked.

“How about a game?” Deuce said.

“What game?” Jack immediately asked. The 6 of you were brainstorming until Epel decided to speak up.

“How about Truth or Dare?” The Pomefiore first year piped up. You all took looks at each other before nodding.

“Sounds fun!” Ace said with a smirk.

“I’m in.” Deuce said, taking a bite out of his dinner.

“W-Well, it is just a game… I guess I’ll join since I have nothing better to do.” Jack said, his ears drooping slightly.

Alas, the only one who didn’t give a response was Sebek. So, you, Ace and Epel looked at him with the most adorable puppy eyes the 3 of you could muster. Jack was slightly confused but he has a gist of what you all were trying to do. Sebek looked at the 3 of you, his face slightly paling.

“W-Wha-“ Poor Sebek couldn’t even finish asking before you cut him off.

“Join our game Sebek!” You pleaded.

“It’ll be fun! We promise!” Ace continued after you. After the two of you had said this, you, Ace and Epel bombarded Sebek with the word ‘please’ over and over again.

“F-FINE! STOP YOUR PLEADING!” Sebek said, finally caving in to you, Ace and Epel’s chants of ‘please’. The three of you high fived each other and did a little cheer. Your cheering just so happened to wake Grim up from his nap.

“Fgnaaaaa…. What’s wrong with you people? Can’t you let a monster like me take a good nap for once?” Grim said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. You giggled and petted Grim.

“Sorry Grim, but we were just excited! We’re playing truth or dare later.” You said, running your fingers through the creature as if you were to groom him.

“Truth or Dare? What’s that?” Grim asked you. You let out a small gasp.

“Grim… You… You don’t know what’s Truth or Dare?” You asked back the creature. He looked at you tiredly and shook his head.

“It’s like, the most common game ever to play with friends! You must’ve heard of it before!” Ace said to the furball.

“No, I have never heard of such game.” Grim replied the orange-haired student with a yawn.

“Well, you can see us play around before joining in later.” You said, handing him a can of tuna. “I remember owing you this.” The furball’s eyes lit up with sparkles.

“Fgnaaaaaaa!! Yes!!!!” Grim did a little happy dance and started to work his way into the can.

“So, where are we going to play later?” Sebek asked you all.

“Not Heartslabyul.” Ace said. “I cannot imagine enjoying the game with Riddle there.”

“Not Savanaclaw either. We can’t have a peaceful moment to ourselves there.” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Definitely not Pomefiore, unless you want our game session to turn into a makeover session.” Epel added on.

“Diasomnia isn’t the best option either. I’m pretty sure Lilia-senpai would interrupt us constantly.” Said Sebek.

“Well, I guess that just leaves my dorm right?” You said, laughing a little. “Then it’s settled then! We’ll have a small game session at Ramshackle Dorm. Now, hurry up and finish your dinner guys.” You ordered the boys as you finished your own dinner.

When they did, you all walked back to your dorm together, along the way, you guys had a nice little chat about what Professor Trein’s homework and how Lucius has a big influence on the class. The cat couldn’t help but meow at the end of each of the professor’s sentence. Ace even made fun of Deuce who meowed along once because he was half asleep then. When Deuce tried to defend himself by saying it was actually Lucius who made the sound and not him, Ace fired back at him saying that he was literally looking at him while he made the sound. Poor Deuce immediately turned red as the rest of you laughed. It’s okay, you comforted him after laughing for almost a minute.

Soon after, you arrived at your humble Ramshackle Dorm. You let everyone into the lounge and you guys started to discuss about the game that you were going to play. You guys decided to draw sticks to see who will go first. In the end, you had drawn the longest stick therefore you would start the game first.

“Alright then, let’s begin! Epel, truth or dare?” You asked your first victim and so the madness had begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few rounds of Truth or Dare, you had ended up with Epel being punished to wear a pink dress and his hair was in an up-do. Ace and Deuce had been punished to switch places, their personalities, the marks on their eyes and even their clothes had been switched. Jack was dared to have makeup on his face, from mascara to lipstick, you name it, beauty products littered everywhere on his face, his tail was in a big braid as a dare. Sebek’s whole body was covered in glitter, everytime he moved, glitter would flutter off from his body, he was also punished to speak in hushed tones.

Yeah, let that sink in.

And for you, you just had to be in an uncomfortable pose. You were feeling pretty sore too, who would’ve thought you would have to do the game standing up with only one leg supporting you while one of your hands were stuck to your waist and the other on top of your head. This was a dare made by Sebek out of all people, and you can only leave the pose when someone else calls out your name. So, yeah, you were ABSOLUTELY SORE.

“I think I know how to play this game now!!” Grim suddenly yelled out.

“Final- I mean, good for you Grim! I have to be nice to everyone if I want to be an honor student!” Ace said to Grim, mocking Deuce who was clearly irked by this.

“Fgnaaaaaa! Why wouldn’t I know how to play? I am The Great Grim after all!!” Grim laughed out.

“Well, I guess you should get a turn, go on then, pick a student and ask them Truth or Dare.” Epel said.

“Hmmm… (Y/N) then!” Grim looked at you and you finally collapsed onto the ground.

“Thank you Gri-“ You were cut off by the furball.

“Truth, or Dare?” You looked at him with widen eyes.

“Hmm… I’m never doing dare again… So, truth!” You said, not moving from your position at all because you were too tired.

“Alright, Truth eh?” Grim said, putting a paw underneath his chin to make it look like he’s thinking of something. After a few seconds of ‘thinking’ the furball had come up with the question.

“I got it!!” Grim yelled. “Who do you have a crush on in this school?” Everybody froze.

Grim, no, you just… You just started a war.

“Hey! How about I switch okay? I choose Dare instead!!” You frantically yelled out.

But Grim already made up his mind.

“Alright then, I dare you to tell us your crush.” Grim said to you and your eye twitched. You got to hand it to the furball, that was one smart move.

“Argh! NO! I won’t say anything!” You said, crossing your arms and turning away from your friends.

“Hey! You didn’t let me do anything else than wear this stupid dress!” Epel argued with you.

“Guys, guys, no. If (Y/N) is acting so defensive, it must mean she has a crush.” Ace said. The boys looked at you while you slowly shrunk yourself.

“(Y/N), it is a dare.” Jack barely said for his face was too heavy with the amount of makeup on.

“Yeah (Y/N) come on, tell us! I as the troublemaker need to know because I’m dumb!” Deuce said, mocking Ace.

Truth be told, the boys treated each other like enemies when Grim asked the question as they each wanted to be your ‘crush’, they knew that everyone had spent their fair share of time with you and you must have a favorite, right?

So, with what Deuce had said, it seemed like a direct attack to Ace. And let me tell you, Ace was not happy at all.

“HEY! I HAVE BETTER GRADES THAN YOU!” Ace fired back to his dorm mate.

“SO?! IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’RE SMART IN YOUR EVERYDAY CHOICES!”  Deuce yelled back.

“GUYS STOP.” Sebek said, getting in between them.

“Fine! Just because I don’t want to be covered in glitter as well.” Ace said.

“Hmph! Me neither!” Deuce said.

“Wait… Where’s (Y/N)?” Epel asked out. Everyone turned to where you sat only to find air there.

You see, while everyone was busy watching/stopping the fight between Ace and Deuce, you had sneakily taken off and ran straight for your dorm’s front door.

“(Y/N)!!! YOU CAN’T ESCAPE!!” Epel yelled as he and the others started to run after you.

“NO! FREEDOM IS NEAR!” You yelled and opened the door and ran out of it. As you just left your dorm’s front yard, you saw the boys were already on their way chasing after you. Grim was also with them but he had a spot on Deuce’s shoulder.

So, you ran, with a bunch of ridiculously looking boys on your tail.

“Guys, we should circle her instead, so, split up!” Sebek told his friends. The others nodded and branched off. You turned your head to see only Sebek running at you at full speed. You gulped slightly before picking up your pace.

“(Y/N)! This could’ve been easier if you’ve just did the dare!” Sebek yelled at you.

“Over my dead body!!” You shouted back and took a sharp left at the end of a hallway, leading you to Main Street.

But when you arrived, you saw something pink slowly walking towards you. You widen your eyes as you realized that it was Epel in front of you. You turned your head to the left to find Jack slowly approaching you from that side. Your right was being approached by the two Heartslabyul boys so escaping from there isn’t an option. You also felt a presence behind you and you already knew who it was.

And with that, you were trapped. Escape was impossible then.

Or so you thought.

“Now, (Y/N), be a good little student who accepted a dare and tell us…” Ace said smugly.

“Yeah, no backing out (Y/N).” Deuce continued. You were overwhelmed.

“F-Fine! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!” You said, covering your blushing. The boys all thought you looked adorable in that state. Could you blame them? You were looking all flustered and red and adorable while hiding her blushing face. Nothing could stop them from blushing slightly as well.

“Okay…” You said, taking a deep breath. The boys leaned in to you, wanting to hear more of your slightly trembling voice.

“My crush is-“

Ah, you were cut off. By a few voices actually.

“ACE! DEUCE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IS IT?!”

“EPEL! IS THAT YOU?! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE EVIL QUEEN ARE YOU WEARING?!”

“Jack!! I need your help back at Savanaclaw!! Leona isn’t helping me!!”

“My oh my, if it isn’t Sebek, you know, Malleus would be disappointed.”

Yes, two dorm leaders and two vice dorm leaders were slowly walking to your group.

“Dorm Leader Rosehearts!” Ace and Deuce yelled to a red-looking Riddle.

“You two! It’s already curfew! If you don’t get back to your dorm in the next five minutes… IT’S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!” Ace and Deuce’s eyes widen and ran at full speed to their dorm.

“Bye (Y/N)!! We’ll see you tomorrow!!” Ace and Deuce said as they ran back to Heartslabyul with Riddle following behind them, but of course Riddle walked slowly instead.

“EPEL!!!” Vil had yelled for his first-year. Epel let out a small groan before turning to look at Vil.

“What?” Your friend responded to his dorm leader.

“What in tarnation are you wearing?!” Vil questioned.

“Are you blind? It’s a dress.” Epel said with a straight face.

“Don’t make me slap you again. Come, we must go back to Pomefiore and get you out of this horrible outfit.” Vil said and dragged Epel away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow (Y/N).” Epel managed to say while being dragged back to his dorm by Vil.

“Jack! Didn’t you hear what I said?!” Ruggie was approaching Jack. “I told you that- HAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOUR FACE?!?!” Ruggie couldn’t help himself as he turned Jack around only to be greeted with a makeup filled face.

“Yeah, yeah, you need my help right? Let’s just go now.” Jack said, dragging a laughing hyena upperclassman with him. “Bye (Y/N).” Said the wolf to you.

“My… Sebek… What a sight to see you like this.” Sebek froze for a good few seconds before turning around.

“Lilia-sama…” Sebek muttered in a low tone.

“I wonder how Malleus would react to this.” Lilia said and Sebek’s eyes widen.

“N-NO, MALLEUS-SAMA MUSN’T KNOW!” Sebek yelled.

“Then, I suggest you better hurry back to your dorm before he catches you.” Said Lilia with a small smirk on his face.

“We will meet again tomorrow (Y/N)!” Sebek said before rushing back to his dorm.

“Bye (Y/N)~” Lilia said to you before going back to his dorm himself.

After everyone were gone, you let out a breath you didn’t even knew you were holding.

“Fgnaaaaa… I only played one round though.” Grim said, as he plomped himself on your shoulder.

“I think one round is enough for you.” You said and started to walk back to Ramshackle Dorm.

“But seriously (Y/N), who is your crush?” Grim asked with curiosity.

“I don’t need a crush, I have you after all.” You said to Grim, patting his head.

“But but!” Grim asked further.

“No buts, either you stop asking about my crush or you don’t get to have tuna for the next few days.” You said with a stern tone.

“Fine…” Grim said and the two of you slowly made your way back to Ramshackle Dorm.

#twisted wonderland fic #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #deuce spade #grim #mc/yuu #epel felmier #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #vil schoenheit #ruggie bucchi #lilia vanrouge

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: West Coast Avengers #3: SINGLETON!

December, 1985

Kraven no! That’s the wrong type of cat to make pants out of!

Y’know, I wouldn’t have necessarily thought Kraven as a Tigra nemesis but there’s some thematic overlap there. It could work.

But doesn’t he have Spiders-Men to antagonize? What’s he doing in California? Should I just read and find out? Ye.

Last times in West Coast Avengers: a big crossover with the Vision and the Scarlet Witch book!

Grim Reaper put together some manner of Lethal Legion of Ultron, Black Talon, Nekra, Goliath, and himself to kidnap Wonder Man and Vision so he could put their brains into a blender and create a new, idealized Simon Williams without all those pesky and uncharacteristic huge muscles.

Grim Reaper is a weird creep about his brother.

Anyway, despite the last issue of the crossover implying that Vision and Wanda were about to go their separate ways from the West Coast Avengers to go try to make a baby, the opening of this has them stick around long enough to say goodbye.

Aw, dat’s nice.

Wonder Man invites Vision and Wanda to move to California but the two are committed to living in Leonia, New Jersey to prove that they can’t be scared away by a little arson.

Although, I think they eventually will mosey down to L.A.

Something to look forward to and slash or dread.

Also: apparently Mockingbird rolled a natural 20 on her perception check because she looks at Vision and Wanda as they’re leaving and thinks ‘those are two people who look like they want to have a baby.’

Which is an observation that confuses her because Vision is made of plastic.

I wonder if she ever learns how the two of them eventually do have a baby.

(Spoiler: Vision dry humps twins into Wanda while she’s blowing up an evil mountain with magic. But then it turns out that the magic babies are secretly chunks of a devil. Womp womp.)

Anyway.

On the Quinjet ride home, Mockingbird makes a casual comment that they all did pretty well for themselves in the climactic off-screen fight of the crossover which Tigra objects to.

Tigra: “You mean you all did! Everybody but Tigra!”

Even though Hank tries to reassure her that it was an honest mistake to make, Tigra angrily exposits a recap for the benefit of Wonder Man, who missed it.

During the climactic, off-screen battle, while Mockingbird and Hawkeye tangled with Goliath, Iron Man tangled with Ultron. Tigra decided that even though her claws can’t cut Ultron’s unfair adamantium body, she could still help by distracting him.

So she tackled him into a bank of computers but Ultron siphoned power from the computer and ran away, presumably chortling.

Tigra: “I’m no good for this group! I don’t have any judgement any more! More and more, the human part of me’s being pushed out by the cat -- !”

Tony Iron Man tries to tell her that she can’t blame herself for things happening and tries to draw a comparison to his own life.

Except Tigra wasn’t privy to all the crap Tony’s been through so has interpreted him stepping down from Iron Man for a while as being “the guy so much in control you hire flunkies to take your place in that armor when you want time off!”

Tony tries to explain himself and then decides, no, he doesn’t have to explain himself.

Mockingbird tries to get the two to settle but Tigra decides she’d rather jump out of a moving Quinjet than calm down.

Tigra: “If I’m going to solve my problems, it’ll be a lot easier without making a fool of myself before witnesses!”

Mockingbird: “Tigra, I promised to help you -- !”

Tigra: “I know you did, Mockingbird! But what can you really do?”

Did I mention that she jumps out of a Quinjet WHILE ITS IN FLIGHT.

And lands on a roof.

I know that cats always land on their feet but holy crap.

Hawkeye is the only one who wants to go back for her. The rest of The Guys are like ‘nah lets give her some space.’

Iron Man even suggests that they go look for a new (sixth) member for the team.

So the Quinjet continues on leaving Tigra to dramatically soliloquize her feelings while bounding over rooftops on unbroken ankles.

Tigra: “On and on it goes -- the battle for the soul of Greer Nelson! I’m more cat than woman now, and considering my powers, that wouldn’t be so bad -- if I were the sum of my parts! But as the cat grows stronger, the woman fades -- and that scares me! I almost wish I’d become a full cat! At least that way I wouldn’t know what was happening to me -- ! But I don’t wish I were a full woman any more, and that’s --”

Ohhhh Tigra, be careful what you wish for.

Because I vaguely remember some feral Tigra content and you’re not going to enjoy it.

Anyway, her speech is interrupted because she accidentally wandered right into a crime at an African art museum and they are very alarmed to see her.

And she is very grateful to see them because when you’re feeling incompetent there’s nothing like beating up mooks to take out your frustrations, I guess?

The mooks tell her that maybe they’re fodder for a superhero’s bad mood but guess what, they’re working for someone!

If you saw the cover, you’d probably guess Kraven and you would have guessed right!

Despite earlier not thinking of Kraven as a Tigra nemesis, apparently they’ve had some run-ins before in Marvel Chillers #4 and Marvel Team-Up #67.

Apparently in Marvel Chillers, they fought and she wound up arresting him for MURDER. But because of a guest appearance in a Fantastic Four book, she forgot to appear at his trial so he got let off the hook.

She tried to capture him again (but double jeopardy??) but he got the drop on her and put a slave collar on her to try to make her fight Spider-Man thing.

He really remembers the collar thing, immediately bringing it up and lamenting that he doesn’t have a collar for her this time.

Which pisses her off so she jumps on his back and tries to rip open his throat.

But Kraven blah blah likes a woman with feral spirit. Because of hunter reasons. Not as a romantic pursuit. He just wants to kick the crap out of an animal-themed person for the hunter cred.

Kraven punches her off of him and then baits her into lunging so he can stab her with one of those tooth thingies on his belt which are apparently not just for the Aesthetic.

The tooth thingy is filled with “herb and reptile potion” which incapacitates Tigra. But since Kraven (the Hunter) just wants to do a simple museum robbery, he leaves her collapsed in the street with just a smug declaration that she now knows that he’s her master.

Rude.

Meanwhile, back at the West Coast Avengers Compound, Goliath is shoved right back in the timeout cage. He tries to goad Hawkeye and Normal Civilian Hank Pym by calling them failures but that only goes so far when he’s locked up in a cage and they’re about to go hang out in the pool.

Nice try, Josten.

Hank Pym wants to stay at the West Coast Avengers Compound to continue studying Goliath but he doesn’t want to be a freeloader.

This IS the same Hank Pym that Tony Stark thought wouldn’t accept charity unless it was attached to an invoice.

Anyway, he proposes that while he’s here anyway, he oversees the running of the Compound.

Hawkeye assumes that Hank is asking to be a butler like Jarvis and Iron Tony even thinks to himself “How far has he fallen -- ?” which, Tony, that’s rude.

Hank clarifies, uh, no, he’s not going to cook for everyone and he’s not going to dust, but he can maintain the equipment.

Tony still insists that this job would be beneath Hank.

Iron Man: “Look, I didn’t mean to sound elitist -- but I guess I am!”

Wow, that moment of self-awareness.

Anyway, he decides its not right for Avengers to work for Avengers.

Now that’s an attitude that won’t last.

But Tony wonders if he doesn’t have an unconscious motive - that he still feels guilty for dating Jan after she divorced Hank.

Hank counter argues that a) he’s not an Avenger, b) he’s going to spend most of his time messing with the equipment anyway, c) he has inside experience of what the Avengers need to keep going, d) it’s a way for him to contribute without being forced into the superhero life, e) it’ll prove that they weren’t wrong to trust him after he screwed up so badly, and f) for fairly most important: he wants an excuse to hang out with the Avengers again.

Hawkeye agrees to let Hank try out as overseer for the Compound but secretly worries what Jan will say when she hears.

Elsewhere, Wonder Man’s wonder agent contacts him to tell him about an amazing opportunity to be on Johnny Carson. And this time, they don’t need him to bring along a team of Avengers, Carson is excited about Simon’s stunt work.

This is just the opportunity that Simon has been waiting for so he agrees to do the appearance for free (which his agent is like, uh no, I will not tell them that you will do it for free) but after the call he muses that things will never be the same after this television appearance.

Elsewhere meanwhile, Hawkeye takes Mockingbird down to the beach. In the most stunning of twist, all his talk of going to the pool was just a ruse to get some private beach time with his wife while everyone else hangs out at the pool.

Except I don’t think anyone is. Wonder Man is being gloomy in his room. I don’t see Iron Man stripping down to a swimsuit to frolic. Tigra is still passed out on the sidewalk somewhere. And Hank is Hank.

Your ruse fooled nobody!

He flirts with Mockingbird a little and they start making out but then Hawkeye ruins it by mixing business with pleasure.

I.e., while making out with Mockingbird, he starts thinking about Avengers business.

Hawkeye: “But you know, Bobbi Barton -- since we got married, I’ve never even thought about any other woman -- except of course, for Tigra!”

That was dumb, Hawkeye.

But after she kicks sand in his face and he clarifies that he means in a team sense, Bobbi agrees to go out looking for Tigra so Hawkeye can stop stressing.

She really is the perfect partner for him.

Bobbi takes Hawkeye being Hawkeye in stride.

Inside, the phone rings and Hank aggressively sets about doing the manager of the Compound thing.

Rushes to the phone to answer it before Iron Man can get to it, which leads to Iron Man just kinda glaring at him. Clearly not comfortable with Hank in a subservient role to him.

Also, there’s seemingly nobody on the other end of the call, just some kind of mechanical whine.

I’m sure that’s nothing foreboding.

Meanwhile, Tigra has recovered from being poisoned and is on the prowl for Kraven.

A tiger woman stalking along the streets of Los Angeles causes a bit of a stir, although most assume that Tigra is some weirdo celebrity.

Some guy in a cool car offers her a ride and a flirt but she tells him she’s too busy tracking someone.

Some guy in a cool car: “Tracking? In the middle of Hollywood with a smog alert on?”

Tigra: “The nose knows...”

The guy belatedly recognizes that this tiger woman is Tigra and starts gushing about how glad he is that L.A. has its own Avengers team “after all those years of making TV series about the New York heroes.”

And this affirmation tickles Tigra’s fancy so she tickles his tonsils. Then she runs off thinking about how much she loves making out with men.

Live your best life?

Fun fact: Tigra has a rough cat tongue apparently. That’s got to make for memorable makeouts.

Tigra manages to track Kraven (the Hunter) to Griffith Park.

Where apparently he’s been busy.

Because when Tigra goes sniffing around after Kraven, a bunch of punji stakes burst out of the ground.

Damn, does nobody prevent people from setting up booby traps in public parks?

Tigra dodges the dangerous for dogwalkers booby trap and then tackles Kraven when he tries to get the literal drop on her.

Once bitten, twice shy, Tigra yoinks Kraven’s belt of poisoned tooth thingies. Kraven isn’t too put out, nerve punching Tigra in the hip to deaden her leg. So she slashes up his chest because he stayed within clawing range and has so much clawable skin.

Kraven being Kraven, i.e. kind of a weirdo, he dips a finger in his chest blood and then licks it so he can talk about how delicious his cool blood is.

In his defense, his blood does contain a potion which heightens his strength and speed. But still, you don’t gotta lick it and brag. That’s not polite.

Kraven: “I would not want to be a cat, when I can be Kraven!”

Tigra: “You’ll be cravin’ hospitalization before I’m finished!”

... Well punned, Tigra.

Why does this sound like an insult swordfight exchange?

Tigra spots Mockingbird and Hawkeye overhead, threatening to spoil her fight, so she grabs Kraven and throws him into a wooded area.

So easy to read this as her being ashamed that Kraven’s become her nemesis.

Anyway, Kraven has traps set up in the woods. Of course Kraven has traps set up in the woods.

He even drops a tiny net on Tigra.

She’s able to shred her way out of because her claws aren’t quite Wolverine’s but they’re still pretty spiffy.

Kraven is actually a bit nonplussed because she wasn’t this strong last time they fought.

Tigra: “You know, you’re cute when you’re flabbergasted! It’s really a shame that a guy as virile as you has to be cut down to size!”

Tigra, pls.

You’re going to force the (West Coast) Avengers to implement a harassment seminar.

Kraven still has some tricks up his lack of sleeves. He throws a stink gourd to take care of her sense of smell and then absconds up a tree.

Tigra follows after him and they pass by some bystanders.

Which is bad for Kraven. He’s 90% ego so he refuses to be seen running away from a fight. He turns around and declares that this is now a fight TO THE DEATH!

Coincidentally, The Scourge of the Underworld is in the crowd of bystanders. He was totally going to kill Kraven but now he can’t because he doesn’t want to hit Tigra by mistake.

You get off the hook this time, Kraven!

(As if Scourge could actually kill someone not in the C or D-lists.)

During the big ol’ fight to the death, Kraven decides that his real mistake has been treating Tigra like a human instead of a human-shaped cat.

Coincidentally, that’s also what Englehart thinks the real mistake of this book has been. HEY OHHHHH!

Ahem.

Kraven: “Kraven is famous for his secret ways of taming cats -- !”

And he does a nerve thrust on her face or jaw and it completely paralyzes her.

Seems dubious, honestly. Even if she’s leaning into the cat thing, her anatomy is still... y’know... bipedal. Her face isn’t even cat shaped. A cat nerve thing shouldn’t do jack or shit to her.

But that’s where the plot goes.

As Kraven prepares to skewer Tigra on a tree branch, she bemoans how unfair this biz is.

Tigra: This isn’t fair! Why am I always beaten by TRICKS? I’m stronger than he is! I’m faster! This isn’t FAIR!!

It be like that sometimes, Tigra.

But before Kraven can shove a stick through Tigra’s throat, like he thinks she’s a vampire instead of a werewoman, he’s entangled by an entangling arrow from the sky.

Huh, guess Hawkeye and Mockingbird circled around.

Kraven isn’t very impressed by two badass normals interrupting his fight.

Kraven: “You fools! The were-woman was magnificent prey! But you’re nothing! NOTHING!”

Anyway, Mockingbird kicks Kraven’s ass in like five seconds. It very much can be argued that Tigra loosened the lid, so to speak. But still, embarrassing for Kraven to loudly declare that someone isn’t worth his time right before getting his ass handed to him.

As you might expect from someone who tried to hide her Kraven fight in the woods, Tigra isn’t happy that Hawkeye and Mockingbird saved her from getting a tree branch shoved through her throat.

Tigra: “This was my fight -- and even if I was going to lose it, it was still mine! I wanted to find out what I really am!”

Mockingbird: “I’ll tell you who you are, Tigra -- you’re part of a team!”

Teamwork! It makes the dream work.

Tigra argues that she’s the weak link of the team, who constantly has to be saved from her own bad decisions but Mockingbird just has to point to Hawkeye and go ‘trash fire.’

Kinda sucking is a good reason to be on a team. Because there will be someone covering your ass.

Anyway, this is apparently No Moral Theater because the narration box assures the audience that Tigra didn’t learn shit from this.

“Now, it would be a mistake to say that Tigra’s cat-like independence can ever be completely won over -- but her cat-like need for affection is strong, as well! And her cat-like moods are always fleeting -- so later, back at the Compound, she allows herself to be stroked a little more...”

Uh, that’s stroked as in her ego. Hawkeye tells the West Coast Avengers and also Hank Pym all the nice things Kraven said about trying to kill her.

While the team and Hank Pym are lounging around the pool, Hawkeye mentions that they’re still shorthanded. They need a sixth member on the team!

Iron Man suggests that the West Coast Avengers do what the Original Coast Avengers did all the way back in Avengers #16. Just announce that they’re looking for members and let the media solve the problem for them.

On that note, Mockingbird suggests holding a press conference, which should guarantee them some air time on the news.

Hawkeye jokes that it’s too bad that Kraven is a bad guy because he’s a strong dude and would be an asset to the team.

Tigra objects (and because its this era of her characterization, I cannot tell if she’s just playing off the joke) “one member dressed in orange is quite enough!”

So wouldn’t it figure that the ever-lovin’ blue-eyed orange rock-skinned Thing would be ringing the West Coast Avengers’ doorbell just to make a punchline of that objection?

The Thing is back from Battleworld and has moved to Los Angeles. HOW VERY CONVENIENT!

Hawkeye, of course, immediately starts up a recruitment pitch.

Iiiiiii do not know what to think of this one.

It’s basically a solo Tigra adventure where she tries to get her mojo back but in the end she fails at the one thing she tried to accomplish and then didn’t even learn a lesson about the value of teamwork or that she doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone. She just went lol cat and dropped it.

There were a few good Tigra moments in this but otherwise I didn’t enjoy her refrains of how much she hated tricksy villains or what a burden she was.

I know this arc with her is going to get worse before it hypothetically someday gets better.

But, uh, one of my favorite nonsense villains is in the next issue. That’s something!

Follow @essential-avengers​ because one day I’ll get back to updating it. Like and reblog too because now I’m doing two serieseses and I need the positive reinforcement.

#essential avengers #avengers #west coast avengers #kraven the hunter #some mooks #essential marvel liveblogging #hawkeye #mockingbird #iron man #wonder man #tigra #last page surprise guest

[levihantrash]

new chapter update!

Summary:

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1: Free Bread

Chapter 2: New Friends

Like routine, Levi found himself waiting for a certain professor to show up. When Erwin called out to him, he couldn’t help but search behind the tall, imposing figure.

“I haven’t seen Hange this morning either,” Erwin said. Levi found himself irritated by Erwin’s discernment and by his own discrete uneasiness.

“Good morning, Erwin,” Levi greeted, nonetheless.

Hange was late, which Levi figured wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

The morning passed without a single sign of Hange.

“Sorry, are you Mr. Levi?” A nervous-looking person approached him, holding on to a well-wrapped steamed bun. A twinge of hope stirred in Levi.

“Levi will do,” he said.

“Dr. Hange said I should pass you this,” the bread-holder blurted out.

Levi’s gaze softened. “Where’s Hange?”

“Oh! She’s rushing a deadline and insisted that I pass you this bread.”

The inexplicable rush of relief made Levi dizzy as he grasped the bread limply. “Huh. Sorry that you have to be an errand boy today.”

“It’s no trouble!”

“Who are you?”

“Sorry! I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Moblit, their teaching assistant! Dr. Hange helps me out with my master’s thesis because they’re my advisor. This is just my way of saying thanks. Dr. Hange also treats me to meals, gives me detailed comments for my work… though they might go overboard when it comes to giving speeches about the importance of world-building and honing your craft, it’s inspiring how dedicated they are in what they do.”

Moblit took a deep breath, making up for lost air in between the lengthy, whole-hearted sentences.

“Is that so…” Levi said, suddenly contemplative. “Do you want some tea?”

“Are you getting it from the staff pantry?”

“No, that stuff’s stale as shit. I have better tea, wait here.”

Levi recalled Erwin asking him in front of everyone in the staffroom if he wanted the staffroom snacks. Hange followed up, speaking at a volume that was clear enough for most of the staff to overhear, orchestrating a deliberate conversation with Erwin.

“Since there are no hard rules as to who the snacks and drinks are catered for, and technically, Levi is a staff member, he should have access to the snacks!”

None of the professors objected. It was probably because open prejudice would be socially unacceptable, Levi thought.

Begrudgingly, he accepted Erwin’s offer, and in full view of everyone, took a candy bar.

Hange gasped. “Just one?” Levi glared at them.

“Aren’t the snacks for your little sister?” Hange asked. He nodded, sensing the collective spike in sympathy for him in the staffroom.

After the whole stage, the trio huddled conspicuously in a corner outside the staffroom.

Hange whispered to Levi, “You could have played along better!”

“Erwin’s tired of your skit,” Levi said, overwhelmed and annoyed at the turn of events.

“No he’s not!” Hange said sternly, before gulping down half a bottle of water.

Erwin, standing in between them, told Hange to keep it down.

“Thanks, you two.” Levi found himself staring at the floor, embarrassed that his two friends had to construe him as a pitiful character for him to get a few snacks, even though he had been informed of the plan prior.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Hange said, their lips compressed into a hard, grim line. “It’s ridiculous that you can’t even get snacks and refreshments as part of the staff.”

“I’m used to it.”

“If anyone’s giving you a hard time, you have us,” Hange said, still put off.

They squared their shoulders impressively. “Right Erwin?”

“You can rely on us, Levi,” Erwin surmised, equally sombre.

Growing more ruffled by their declarations, Levi hissed, “I don’t need two bodyguards.”

“No, you definitely don’t,” Hange joked. “Some people have told me about the deathly aura you emit that I must have missed…”

Fixing their attention at a vague distance, Hange’s playful jibes dwindled into an idle pondering, “I wonder if you found some joy in our companionship at least.”

They’re talking about joy and friendship again… Levi thought.

He found himself back in the present, handing a cup of black tea to Moblit, guiding him towards a bench.

Moblit squeaked out, “Thank you!”

“How did you find me?” Levi asked, betraying none of his real curiosity.

“Hange gave me a description…” Moblit began, not making eye contact with Levi.

“Did they? What’s the description?” Knowing Hange’s brand of humour, Levi braced himself.

Moblit shuffled in his seat, terribly reluctant. “They said to look out for a cold, black-haired man with an undercut, wearing an apron, gloves and brandishing a mop while scolding people to not step on wet floors.” Levi made a mental note to strangle Hange.

Moblit quickly supplemented, “You’re not actually cold though!”

“How would you know that?”

“Um… you’re offering me tea?”

Levi clicked his tongue. “That’s a low bar for human decency. You should have higher standards.”

“You’re right, Mr. Levi… I mean Levi.”

Levi noted Moblit’s jittery manner when he briefly checked his phone for a message and let out a small groan.

“Hey, you look worried sick. You didn’t receive a death threat, did you?”

Moblit laughed weakly, running his hand through his hair. “Uh, you see, I’m one of the editors for the bi-annual literary magazine and we’ve been looking for illustrators…”

“I take it that you haven’t been successful?”

“Yes… I just received someone’s rejection. It’s okay, we’ll find one,” Moblit said, although his panicked lip-biting ran contradictory to his optimistic statement. Levi’s hands twitched again. He folded them promptly into his apron pockets.

Upon finishing the tea, Moblit stood up and gave a tiny, polite bow. “It was nice meeting you Levi. Thanks for listening and for the tea!”

“Good luck,” Levi said, in time before Moblit rushed off.

Bagging up the rubbish, Levi heaved the load on his shoulder easily, only to be startled by the appearance of Hange.

“Fuck! Can you stop jumping out of nowhere?” Though momentarily disconcerted, the tension built up from the day unwound instantaneously, leaving his body loose and feeble.

“Levi! Did you shit yourself?” Hange sang. They accidentally bumped into the gigantic rubbish bag, falling butt-first onto the ground, phone in hand.

“Be careful,” Levi said, in the same monotonous voice he used regardless of the situation. Unless the situation involved Hange leaping out of nowhere. He looped his free arm under their armpit to pull them back up. Hange, flushed from running, placed their phone in his hands with ill-contained excitement.

“Look at what I found!”

“Oi, what’s this—” Levi scanned the phone, his mouth running dry.

“I’m going to recruit this artist. For my comic.”

It was a sketch of a cat being patted by a person with messy, tied-up hair, their hands stroking its head.

“Don’t you think the person looks familiar? Isn’t the cat cute… remember how I told you I have one at home?” Hange released their brown hair from a voluminous ponytail, biting the rubber band in their mouth.

He swallowed. “I drew that.”

Hange’s mouth hung open. “You’re kidding!”

“Do I look like I make such shit jokes?”

“Personally, I find your shitty jokes very funny. This is exciting news! Why didn’t you tell me you’re an artist when I was trying to find one for my comic?”

Levi found her question preposterous. “You could easily find a better one. I’m inexperienced.”

“I’m also an inexperienced writer. I barely wrote one book and a few articles!”

“You’re a professor. You have the title for a reason. I just draw for fun.”

Hange spared him a baffled look. “Please. You have no idea how many great writers never become professors. And how some professors never write great books. I thought you of all people would know that a title doesn’t mean anything.”

“I thought you of all people would know that titles hold their value here, even if we think they’re stupid and don’t mean shit.”

“I know that, Levi. I’m saying, drawing for fun doesn’t make you inexperienced or unworthy of being the artist for my comic. Besides, I chose you before I even knew it was you!” Hange said triumphantly.

Locking the phone screen, Levi reiterated, “I draw for fun.”

“Then this will be our fun project!”

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

“You won’t be broke.” Erwin slipped into their conversation as though he had always been there. It was uncanny.

“What do you mean?” Levi stared questioningly at Erwin.

“You’ll be paid for your work, Levi. Hange as well,” Erwin said simply.

“You’re paying us?” Hange and Levi asked, in unison. One, in disbelief, and the other, in delight.

“A publisher will be paying you. I’ve secured funding.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “A publisher wants to sponsor a comic that hasn’t even been written?”

“I told you, Levi,” Hange interrupted. “I’ve already submitted a draft!”

“Yes,” Erwin said.

Levi had so many questions. “How?”

“Because it’s a good story.”

“Did you bribe them? Threaten them?”

“It is a risk,” Erwin admitted.

“It’s a fucking gamble,” Levi emphasised. “Don’t know why you’re so invested in this comic.”

Hange had other worries. “Levi, did you think I wasn’t going to pay you?”

Levi hesitated. “I don’t know. Isn’t this just a fun side-project?”

Hange’s face came closer to his. With the enhanced proximity, Levi stopped breathing altogether. Their face was deadly solemn.

“Listen, Levi, creating art is hard work. Your hard work. Any artist deserves to be paid. It’s not because our relationship is transactional. It’s because it’s only right.”

Erwin added, “We’re not going to accept your art for free.”

Pushing Hange back firmly with his hands on their shoulders, Levi argued, “Plenty of people have access to my art online for free.”

“That’s your choice. We insist.” Hange grinned. “And we think we deserve to be paid too. Even I’m surprised that my project has early compensation.”

Part of Levi’s resolve ebbed away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me!”

“First, you have to tell me what your story is.” Levi gathered up the last of his self-respect. “And if we’re going to be working together, I’ll need your number.”

Erwin raised an innocent eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you need mine too?”

“Stop teasing him, Erwin,” Hange said, grabbing the rubbish bag from Levi, struggling to balance its weight over their shoulders.

Just as Levi felt a shred of gratitude, Hange remarked, “What if he doesn’t agree to do the comic together?”

Patience running thin, Levi stomped on both their feet in a fit of unrestraint that diverged from his unaffected demeanour.

Eyes twinkling, Hange couldn’t help but feel immense glee at the prospect of working with Levi. What was probably Levi’s withheld strength made them certain that he only wanted to dirty their shoes, not bruise their toes. Like Hange would care about the cleanliness of their battered sneakers.

In front of an ordinary apartment door, Hange dug into the depths of their bag to fish out a ring of keys. The size of the ring was unprecedentedly big; the choice of keychain most definitely random, a freebie handed out to new staff that blatantly displayed the university’s name.

Without that much bribery of tea, bread, and friendship, Levi found himself standing beside Hange as they busied themselves in finding the key to their apartment. Erwin had bailed due to having another Important Meeting with Important People, even during a weekend, but encouraged Hange and Levi to take time to discuss the comic.

Hange hadn’t expected Levi to agree so readily to kickstarting the project, and with the generous reception Levi gave (a curt nod and a follow-up question), they thought it’d be best if they invited him over to their apartment. Just so he wouldn’t mistake Hange as a mere business partner. Now that would be upsetting.

Hange pushed the ludicrous speculation out of their head. Levi was first and foremost, a good friend. His bored appearance revealed glimpses of surprise, satisfaction, moodiness, and suspicion. Hange held on to these pieces with the determination to collect them all. Surely, Levi must have figured them out by now. This endless, unabashed interest Hange had taken in him.

“Why are we meeting at your place? Do you need to take a huge shit? Does the toilet at home have a better flush?”

Although Levi had no qualms about visiting Hange’s apartment, he found it unnerving to have a work discussion in someone’s living quarters. It felt too intimate, too casual. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being sucked in further into Hange’s life. They asked so many questions, yet barely answered any about themselves.

Whether intentionally or not, Hange was someone shrouded in mystery to Levi. He couldn’t ask questions either—he wouldn’t—because he was unaccustomed to expressing himself in front of people. More than that, he could envision Hange’s sharp wit poking a clean hole through his muted facade. “You’re interested in my life, Levi?” Damn that four-eyes for being so perceptive. Or was he so easy to read?

“It’s more fun,” Hange said, eventually stuffing the correct key into the keyhole, a smooth click welcoming them. “Plus, I want to introduce you to my friends! Part of the reason why I took up the position at this university.”

“Friends?” Levi asked, slipping out of his shoes to step into the apartment.

“Hange!” A voice rang, and Hange was wrapped in a hug.

“Onyankopon! I saw you yesterday—”

“Three days ago, to be exact, since you always sleep over on the lovely desk at the university.” A smooth voice entered, coming from a woman standing comfortably against the wall.

As the tallest body let go of Hange, it allowed Levi to take in the congenial features of a man whose shoulders rivalled Erwin’s towering, well-built stature. While Erwin’s smile was measuredly cordial, Onyankopon’s was candidly sincere. Watching Hange and Onyankopon, Levi felt as though he were intruding into a family reunion that had invited the entire neighbourhood. Here, he was the guest who came for the free flow of food and drinks.

“I’ve missed you too Pieck!” The woman named Pieck ruffled Hange’s hair, offering them an embrace.

Hange pulled Levi by the elbow, pointing to the new people. “Meet my roommates and college friends, Onyankopon and Pieck!”

“Hi,” Levi said, uncertain as to what else he could affix his terse greeting with. Hange resolved that predicament for him, going into further details about their friends.

“Onyankopon is a researcher and engineer! I can’t tell you the technical specifics of what he does, though, I always get them wrong. Oh, and he’s religious, but he won’t try to convert you.” Onyankopon nodded, affirming Hange’s unflattering introduction.

“Pieck… Pieck is a gardener, florist, and avid gamer! That’s why she’s always bent over, whether it’s tending to her plants or her high score in front of the monitor.”

“It’s not why I need the crutches though,” Pieck said. Hange squeezed her shoulders in response.

“Seems like my friends are all nerdy. Maybe that’s why I like them?” A sheepish smile graced Hange’s lips.

Onyankopon gestured towards Hange, imitating their dramatic flourish. “And this is Hange Zoe, the nerdiest of them all. Obsessed with words. Recently obsessed with science fiction. They’re always reading or writing, and once they start on something, their butt doesn’t leave the chair.”

Levi’s eyes flitted around the apartment—it was relatively tidy, with a couple of framed photos and artworks. A blanket on the couch made it homely enough. His inspection didn’t miss Hange’s notice.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s neat,” he replied.

“That’s a compliment!” Hange took care to disclose this to their two friends.

“All your previous partners don’t take off their shoes, Hange. I hope he isn’t one of those.” Pieck said, using their crutch to relocate Hange’s haphazard shoes to a corner, flipping them the right side up. Levi liked her already.

“That’s gross,” Levi said apathetically, wiping away the horrifying image of dirt-smeared carpets and tiles creeping into his consciousness.

“He’s very clean, don’t worry,” Hange said easily. “Some might even say it’s his obsession.”

“I’m the cleaner at the university.” Onyankopon and Pieck turned towards Hange with patented disapproval.

“Levi, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think we’ll make good friends,” Pieck said, bemused.

Hange beamed at Levi. “You’ll love Pieck! She’s really quiet most of the time, just like you. Not to mention she pretends that she hates me. Just like you.”

“Good to know,” Levi said, enjoying the banter a bit too much.

“Hange says she’s going to get you to draw me, as a titan,” Pieck said, evidently sceptical.

“What’s a titan?”

“The giant, naked people I told you about, Levi! They’re called titans!”

“Why are they called titans?”

Hange landed on the sofa with a plop, patting the seat beside them for Levi to sit. “In Greek mythology, titans are immortal giant gods who were banished to the underground.”

Levi, who had little knowledge of Greek mythology, made a mental note to search for references online.

“Therefore, the titans are kind of like vengeful giant gods from the underground who have come to earth to wreak havoc on what the gods have built, which is human civilisation, basically.”

“Basically, I am wonderful enough to be titan-material,” Pieck drawled, propping their crutch at the side of the couch, sliding onto the cushions.

“A special titan that walks on all fours! Um, that’s the plan for now,” Hange said brightly.

Onyankopon, who had been content with listening, clapped his hands together in sudden realisation. “Hange, now that you’re finally home, you can take a shower.”

“I should, right?” Hange scratched their head, feeling the slickness of unwashed neglect.

Levi crinkled his nose as Hange reluctantly made their way to the bathroom. “That’s disgusting.”

“And here you are, still.” Pieck’s amiable statement prickled at his skin like a light warning before impending exposure.

“Hange must really want to make a good impression if they’re showering now,” Onyankopon said, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Onyankopon pushed a newly made cup of tea towards Levi, with the steady confidence that could only come from having known prior that it was the beverage that Levi would desire. “Make yourself at home.”

Levi said his thanks, to the hospitality of two people he scarcely knew, and to Hange, who likely told them about the tea.

Cold water blasted them in the face, as Hange became cognizant of the necessity of showering more regularly. It wasn’t like they thrived in the dirt. Hypothetically, showering wasn’t that troublesome. The shower kept forgetting itself until it was three days later and Hange stank with regret and mild self-loathing. Still, the shower felt good, giving them new clarity about the fact that they had invited Levi into their inner social circle. How would he fare? Would he be uncomfortable? Hange massaged shampoo into their hair, recalling their conversation with Pieck and Onyankopon.

After much elaboration on adapting to a new university, their visits to an amazing bakery, and the fostering of daily encounters with new friends, Pieck had caught on that every other sentence from Hange contained a sliver of Levi-sized anecdotes. The new university was so much bigger than the one Pieck, Onyankopon, and Hange had attended together; it stretched endlessly, and Hange estimated that Levi would have walked 393700.7874 steps to clean just the faculty building. The bakery near the university was fragrant, its selection marvellous, and choosing a new bread for Levi every day was a tremendously delightful task. Moreover, Hange had met so many unique characters since getting to know the people in their faculty, people like Levi whose abhorrence for social etiquette was admirable, and with whom she was eager to share their mornings and lunches. Together with Erwin, of course.

Pieck let out a tinkle of a laugh at Hange’s obliviousness. “Why are you friends with Levi?”

Thinking hard, Hange answered, “I don’t know if he thinks of us as friends.”

“Well, friendship status aside, how’s he like?”

“He’s kind. He doesn’t sound like it, but he’s kind.”

“That’s nice. How’s he kind?”

Confusion coloured Hange’s usual confidence. “Hmm. It’s gut-feeling, I guess.”

“That’s unlike you, to rely solely on instincts,” Onyankopon said, stroking his chin. Hange was a person with an abundance of rationale, a reason for everything, with justification for any ideas. Their reasoning this time fell flat.

Pieck prodded on. “You said that he doesn’t sound kind. Then what does he sound like?”

“Grumpy, sarcastic, serious. He looks like he’s annoyed with everyone. Most people find him scary, I suppose? It’s like he wants people to think he’s an asshole.”

Pieck perked up. “Oh, so you’ve become enamoured with broody, misunderstood people who’re rough around the edges?”

“Pieck, come on, I’m not writing my own romantic trope! I don’t know… he’s a good person. I can tell. He doesn’t say much though.”

“You’re a mind-reader now?”

Hange ignored her. “His art… it’s so evocative. Melancholic. Hopeful. Angry.”

“What was the artwork you last saw of his?”

“A cat,” Hange said immediately.

Onyankopon brought Hange back to reality. “What about him? What do you like about him? Not his art.”

Hange pursed their lips. “Do good people need to prove themselves to show that they’re good?”

“There could be reasons as to why you’re so adamant about his golden character,” Onyankopon said.

“He’s reliable. And his shit jokes aren’t so bad once you get used to it.” Hange surprised themselves with that comment—Levi’s relentless toilet humour was infecting their brain. The corrosive force of the word “shitty” had already moulded itself permanently into their vocabulary.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Hange bent their arms behind their head. “It’s hard to find people to truly get along with.”

Onyankopon and Pieck shared a knowing look.

With their eyes trained to the white ceiling plaster, Hange mumbled on, “it would be nice if he’d talk more openly about what he’s feeling. It’s all guesswork and I’m afraid I’m constantly reading him wrong.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice…” Onyankopon said gently.

“But I do talk about my feelings!”

“Monologuing in your room and reposting vague lines of poetry and sending us memes to cope with your avoidance is not the same as talking about your feelings,” Pieck said, spending the subsequently long moment of silence to snip off a yellowed leaf from the potted Monstera deliciosa next to the kitchen counter.

“Wow.” Hange, for once, had nothing to muster.

Onyankopon’s approach was less incisive than Pieck’s. “You know, I don’t think you need a reason to be friends with someone. If he’s making you happy, I think it’s a good sign.”

“Thanks, Onyankopon,” Hange said gratefully.

“But Pieck’s right about you being deliberately evasive with your own emotions. Introspection shouldn’t be so strenuous, right? Don’t you write about your characters’ internal turmoil often?”

“It’s different when you’re reflecting for yourself,” Hange contended.

“We’ll see how Levi’s like anyway, when we meet him,” Pieck said, grabbing the scissors, going towards another deadened leaf.

“Don’t bully him!”

Another snip. Another leaf fell. “Isn’t he supposed to be scary?”

Hange smiled wryly. “But you two are scarier.”

#aot #SCATSA #tell me what you think!!!! #levihan #fanfiction #my writing #levi hange erwin #levi and hange #ao3 #attack on titan #levi x hange #erurihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #erwin smith #hange and levi #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #onyankopon #pieck #moblit

[jaskiersvalley]

i have read your fics more than once. really.

That is super flattering and I am so pleased you read them more than once. Hopefully, this little ficlet of thanks is something you’ll enjoy reading too!

Witchers didn’t have souls. That was a known fact around the continent. Their trials and mutagens and everything else that went on in their mysterious keeps stripped them of their core humanity. It stole away their daemons, left behind unfeeling killing machines that didn’t bat an eyelid at the atrocities fought so viciously. Then again, people whispered that it was better they didn’t have daemons because there was no telling what monstrous creature their daemons would settle into.

Despite all these warnings, Jaskier found himself tagging along with an infamous witcher. The Butcher of Blaviken himself. His own daemon, Miette, settled as a white-tailed mongoose, was happy to trot along by his side or settle on his shoulders. At the start, it was definitely unnerving to have a travel companion without a daemon of his own but, slowly, Jaskier got used to it.

Over time, as Jaskier became more familiar with Geralt, he didn’t miss the longing looks shot towards Miette. While he never touched her, there was a hint of temptation - especially after being in a village where the humans pulled away not their children first but their daemons. On those nights, Geralt always settled a little closer to the fire.

The nice thing about daemons was that mostly there was no need to verbal communication. Jaskier could look at Miette and they were in agreement. However, some things needed more than a look.

“You sure?” Miette asked but she was already turning towards Geralt.

“Go,” Jaskier said, bracing for what was to come. Because either unimaginable ire and offence was going to be rained down on him and Miette. Or Jaskier was in for a night like no other he’d experienced before.

From his own bedroll, Jaskier watched as Miette approached Geralt. Daemon and witcher stared at each other before Miette dipped her head and approached. It was Jaskier who gasped as his daemon nosed her way under Geralt’s arms and nestled into his chest. For a heavy few seconds time and the world was suspended before rushing to catch up as Geralt buried his face in Miette’s fur.

After that night, Geralt actually acknowledged Miette as an entity in her own right and talked directly to her rather than ignore her as he had a habit of doing before. When they were in built up areas, Geralt still ignored Miette. Especially after he once brushed against her at an inn and they were forcibly thrown out as a result. The new rumour that witchers tried to steal daemons for their own was impossible to quash, no matter how hard Jaskier tried.

“Come to Kaer Morhen with me,” Geralt said one night. It was an offer that had Jaskier’s heart picking up in excitement and Miette clambered up Geralt’s trouser leg to settle around his shoulder, tail draped across his throat.

“It would be my honour.”

As winter approached, Jaskier got more and more excited. He was going to meet other witchers, spend the whole season with Geralt and see him relax with family. Even Geralt seemed more motivated than usual. Which was saying a lot because he was the master of hiding all emotions.But Jaskier couldn’t miss the slight bounce of energy in him as they got closer to the mountain range which Kaer Morhen was nestled in.

The climb was bitterly cold and fraught with danger. More than once Jaskier came close to giving up and curling up with Miette, falling to sleep, probably to never wake again. But Geralt’s urging and mutters about Roach kept them moving.

They were on the last leg of the climb, the old keep visible through the trees when Geralt let out a soft laugh. “Vesemir’s home.”

Looking up, Jaskier’s jaw dropped at the sight. There was an elephant by the western wall of the keep, spreading mortar over a large crack. On its back was a man, obviously relaxed.

“How the fuck did you get an elephant up here?” Jaskier asked but Geralt had picked up the pace and was all but jogging to the doors, flinging them open and rushing in. It was a burst of energy that Jaskier just couldn’t muster. And he must have been so exhausted he was hallucinating because the elephant was gone and the man he thought he was on its back was walking towards him with a wave.

Jaskier followed Geralt into the keep and came to a stop, almost choking on his next breath. There were cages on the floor of the entrance hall, three of them occupied by daemons and Geralt was prying one open with excitement clumsy hands.

“I know Roach, I know,” he was muttering and the cage door finally flew open. Instantly, the daemon in the cage was bursting out and rapidly shifting through forms, a wolf knocking Geralt flat on his back, a lioness nuzzling against his chest with a deep purr, a ferret excitedly disappearing down the neck of his shirt and making Geralt squirm until she popped out of his sleeve before shifting to a mouse and nesting in Geralt’s hair.

“What the fuck?” Jaskier whispered and Miette looked just as stunned.

“Welcome to Kaer Morhen,” Vesemir said from beside him, a lizard peering out from his breast pocket. “You obviously know Geralt and now you’ve seen Roach.”

The incredulous “that’s Roach?!” from Jaskier drew Geralt’s attention and he sat up, mouse turning into a cat to sprawl in his arms.

“Roach, meet Jaskier and Miette,” he said and the cat flicked her tail. “She’ll probably come greet you later on but,” Geralt trailed off. It was obvious though, he didn’t want to let go of Roach.

That evening, Jaskier learned a lot of things. Witchers did indeed have daemons but the trials stripped them of the ability to settle on one form. It was safer for them to remain at the keep than be out in the world. A lot of less than well-intentioned people would pay good money to get their hands on an unsettled daemon that could exist at great distances from its partner. Not to mention that having a witcher’s daemon meant ownership of a witcher which was disastrous.

“It also gives us the final boost to come home,” Geralt added, Roach hidden up his sleeve in ferret form. “If we had them with us, we would never make it up the pass.”

“Plus, we know who might return for winter and who might not. An empty cage means we won’t hope needlessly. Speaking of, Bleater’s been looking a little ragged,” Vesemir added. “Eskel’s got himself into trouble.”

Sure enough, when Jaskier walked through the entrance hall, one of the daemons looked rather sorry for herself. She was in wolf form, curled up and shivering. The cage door was enchanted so no matter how small a daemon, it couldn’t pass between the bars.

“Can’t we let her out? Maybe Miette and Roach could give her some comfort?” Jaskier begged.

“The first thing she’d do is take flight to find him. And then he’ll never make it home.” The reply from Geralt was less than pleasing and Jaskier sat by the cage, whispering encouragements to Bleater, trying to keep her spirits a little raised.

The cage next to her housed another wolf. This one threw herself at the door and raged to be let free. When Jaskier dared ask about her, Geralt simply shrugged.

“Lambert’s getting close.”

Sure enough, two days later a new witcher staggered through the doors. He smacked the cage door open and Jaskier bore witness to a wrestle between man and daemon that looked more like a fight than a greeting. Once they were done, the daemon shifted into a cat and swiped at Lambert’s hand.

“You’ll do, eh?” He said to the daemon before looking up at Jaskier. “I see Geralt’s brought home a stray.”

Not disheartened or offended by the exclamation, Jaskier smiled. “Jaskier. And this is Miette. You are?”

“Lambert,” came the reply. He looked at the cat and smirked. “You never did need a name, did you?”

The cat sank her teeth into Lambert’s hand, drawing blood and he laughed, giving her a fond cuff. “Bloody brat.”

Jaskier could only watch as man and cat wandered off but not before their gaze lingered on Bleater in her cage.

Things weren’t looking good for Eskel. Bleater, was on her side and panting by the next morning, looking lethargic and sickly. The witchers all looked grim as they passed her cage but they maintained there was nothing they could do. So Jaskier sat vigil with her, kept her company even though it went against every social etiquette. It was early afternoon when Bleater shivered and gasped on a breath, craning her neck to look Jaskier in the eye.

“Please,” she murmured, “save him.”

It wasn’t something Jaskier could truly refuse. He was up and out the door with Miette a moment later. Eskel had to be close, there was no way he could be too far away. As they got to the path they followed up, there was a low growl from behind them and Lambert’s daemon snarled at them.

“If you’re going to stop us, you might want to snap my neck now,” Jaskier snapped, irritated. He watched as the daemon sniffed the air, scenting it.

“He’s close. Follow me.” She was off and Jaskier had to rush after her, down a different path to the one they took. From behind them there was a thudding and panting, Roach in wolf form appeared too.

“What?” she scoffed. “I’m not suffering a winter with Lambert and his idiot mourning when there’s someone willing to do something about it. Plus-” if wolves could smile, she certainly was, “you get to take the blame for this. It’s not like Vesemir would make you suffer the whole winter.”

It took fifteen minutes of fast paced jogging down a path before the two wolf daemons stopped and sniffed. Whatever they could detect, Jaskier hoped it wasn’t death.

“There!” Miette dashed off through the snowy undergrowth. A little way off the path, there was a small clearing and in the middle of it was a collapsed man. Miette danced around him nervously, chittering to get Jaskier closer. While Roach didn’t touch Eskel, Lambert’s daemon seemed to have no such qualms. She turned into a scarred bear and hefted Eskel onto his back settling over him with a rumble.

“He’ll need to warm up before we can move him.”

It took a few minutes before fingers twitched and buried themselves in the thick fur as Eskel gasped a soft “You.”

“Of course it’s me, idiot,” she retorted.

Eskel looked around, dazed and flinched at the sight of Jaskier. However, Roach’s presence next to him and Miette on her back seemed to help him relax.

“Guess we’re your rescue party,” Jaskier said by way of introduction. “Just as well I don’t believe in leaving people to struggle alone.”

There was something in Eskel’s expression which he couldn’t read. Maybe even grief. “Li’l Bleater got snatched by a forktail. I tried to rescue her but ended up snapping my ankle instead. It’s mostly healed now but I couldn’t push on.”

Shame, that’s what Jaskier could see and he wasn’t prepared to have any of that. He offered Eskel a hand to pull him up and winced as how he still limped. The ankle wasn’t healed up by any of his definitions. His joke about the fact that if that was Eskel’s definition of better could be understood to mean that bones were poking out earlier fell flat. And Jaskier felt a little sick at realising that’s exactly what had happened.

Keeping her bear form, Lambert’s daemon let Eskel cling to her as they limped back towards the keep. It took the better part of two hours and by the time they were back, Vesemir, Geralt and Lambert were standing by the door, looking like a menacing and unimpressed welcome party. Even worse, Lambert scoffed and turned to head into the keep. Jaskier wanted to call after him and berate him however, a moment later, a blur was stumbling and rushing out of the keep. Bleater all but crashed into Eskel who had dropped to his knees to greet her, relief making his shoulders sag.

“Bleat,” he gasped, burying his face in her fur. “Thank you.”

At a more sedate pace, Lambert approached and waited his turn to greet Eskel. As he stood, his eyes met his daemon’s and they nodded at each other. No matter the price, they would have done it again. Lambert squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder as he helped Eskel hobble into the keep.

“I am so disappointed in you,” Geralt chided Roach. “But thank fuck you’re a stubborn mare.”

Vesemir’s quiet “thank you” was the one that took Jaskier off guard the most. He’d expected to be berated, to be thrown out. Instead, there was soft gratitude from all the witchers. And for the whole of winter, Miette had four eternally shifting snuggle buddies to lounge by a fire with. While Jaskier found himself accepted by the witchers, welcomed into their family and, even better, invited back for future winters.

#geraskier #minor eskel/lambert #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #vesemir #daemon au #long post #tldr: witchers lock away their daemons for most of the year

[anonniemousefics]

The Nine Terrifying Moons | Chapter Three

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Fandom: The Folk of the Air | Jude + Cardan

Synopsis: Based on the response to this post. :) Jude’s not sure what she expected motherhood to be like, but it isn’t this.  

(SO MUCH FLUFF HERE. Really. Just. The fluffiest. I can’t help myself.)

Chapter Three: The Third

I think maybe I am meant to be a cautionary tale, not a happy ending.

I think that someone who has manipulated and lied and schemed as much as I have is destined only for tragedy.

And now it’s finally come for me.

I think this over and over again, like a spell I’m chanting to grant myself some measure of grim acceptance, while Cardan and I ride a ragwort horse all the way to the mortal realm. It’s the best course of action we can come up with in the moment of panic.

The moment I knew we were facing a potentially devastating complication, I wanted – no, needed – a human doctor.

Pregnancy is rare among the Folk, and I now find I’m not interested in trusting faerie midwives with a decidedly human condition. If there is something wrong with me, or with our baby, I want to know what it is, everything about it. I don’t trust anyone who might want to strike a deal for my child’s wellbeing or concoct some potion that, while saving the pregnancy, also gives our baby a third eye or snaggle-teeth or an appetite for blood. I’m also having flashbacks of a conversation long ago with Oriana, when she divulged details of Oak’s horrific birth. How there’d been complications that had cost Liriope her life. How Oriana herself had carved the baby out of her friend’s stomach.

I shudder hard at the recollection and press my cheek hard against Cardan’s back as we ride, my face between his shoulder blades. Hard pass. On every bit of that. Just – one massive hard pass. We are finding a real doctor.

Cardan didn’t even argue. Though he insisted it was time to tell The Court of Shadows, if only for safety reasons while we made an unannounced, unplanned emergency run to the mortal realm.

Nothing goes like either of us had hoped. There are no tears of joy. There are only tight, grim expressions and tense words while plans are made. How we will prevent our enemies from learning of the child and our absence. How we will remain protected while among mortals.

I have hardly a word of help to offer, and that alone is horrifying. I have always schemed and survived – it’s what I am. But there, instead, I can only sit with a hand at my flat stomach, my sole focus on willing this little rebel in me to hear her mother’s first command.

Don’t go. Please. I love you.

Please stay.

Please.

I’ve resented this for weeks, and now I’m begging for the nausea, the aches, the exhaustion to stay – all of it. Any reassurance that I’m not losing this newfound love before I’ve even really gotten to know it.

But I also wonder if I should just accept fate. I have always felt from the beginning that I did not deserve this. That I am stealing a happiness that I have not earned.

“How are you faring?” Cardan asks me over his shoulder, the whine of the wind in my ears. We’re somewhere over the sea, jostled by the roll of the ragwort horse’s gallop beneath us.

“The same,” I answer. Sick. Dizzy. Terrified of what comes next. Unconsciously, I grip his body to mine harder. He’s tense, every muscle on edge. This is unlike any journey we’ve made yet. There’s nothing to fight, and still everything to lose.

“Nearly there,” says Cardan, but it sounds like he’s saying it more for his own benefit. He hates the journey over the sea, the precariousness of ragwort horse travel. I’m not in any state to offer reassurances, or even tease him to lighten the mood.

Sure enough, the clouds part, and the city lights along the coast of Maine wink up at us. It’s evening, and dark beneath a heavy rain cloud, and as soon as we’re low enough, we’re being pelted with sheets of rain. By the time the ragwort horse alights its oaken-hooves on the pavement, Cardan and I are both soaked to the skin.

We dismount, invisible beneath a glamour, at the far end of a hospital parking lot. The sign at the entrance glows with a red cross and the name, Down East Community Hospital. It was the best I could think of to do at a moment’s notice: instruct the ragwort horse to find us an emergency room.

I wrap my arms around myself as Cardan holds out a hand to gather up the horse. The leaves of its mane and the bark-like coat of its body begin to curl in on itself, like a plant rolling in on itself for the night. A moment later, it’s only a few leafy twigs that Cardan can hide in his pocket.

We both look absurd, and I’m just now realizing it. We look like we’ve just run out of a community theatre dress rehearsal for a low-budget melodrama. Cardan’s tried to dress down, but he’s still Cardan, and he’s wearing tight black trousers and tall boots over his calves. He’s thrown one of the zip-up hoodies I keep in my wardrobe for trips to the mortal realm over a loose white shirt. He also must have been feeling particularly festive this morning after last night’s romp, and he’d gone and added a bit of kohl to his eyes before I’d woken up and shit hit the fan. And he’s still wearing gold rings all over his fingers and in his pointed ears. Combined with his soaked, inky hair, he looks a bit like a member of an 80’s rock cover band who’s recovering from being pushed into a pool.

It’s kind of nice. He rarely looks a mess. It makes me feel like we’re in this together, at least.

For my part, I didn’t let Tatterfell braid my auburn hair today, and now it’s just long and windblown, so I’ve tried to pull it all to one side to keep it managed. I’m wearing a simple pair of brown trousers with little silken flats that were my least flashy pair of shoes. I’ve got a shirt and olive-colored vest on beneath a hoodie similar to Cardan’s that was supposed to keep me warm, but now it’s sopping wet.

We both pulls the hoods on our sweatshirts up over our heads as we make a mad dash for the automatic sliding doors of the ER, racing against the onslaught of rain. Once we’re inside the vestibule between sliding doors, I stop a moment to grab Cardan’s arm and gather myself. He puts a bejeweled hand over mine, his expression tightened in concern.

“I’ve never done this before,” I confess, breathless. Hospitals, emergency rooms, doctors. It’s all foreign to me.

“I’ve done it even less.” Cardan’s looking more pale by the minute. The rising terror in both of us is palpable.

“I should call Vivi,” I spout, and Cardan’s nodding furiously in agreement, for once graciously not pointing out how he’s been saying this very thing for weeks.

But when I look around, there’s not a phone in sight. There’s only a poorly lit waiting room on the other side of the glass vestibule, and bored-looking nurses waiting at intake windows. Shit. Shit. How do mortals do this? How to they get treatments for mortal ailments and weaknesses and not fall to pieces fretting over their inherent, inevitable vulnerability in the process?

Suddenly, the surety of immortality is looking rather cowardly by comparison.

“Maybe one of the nurses will let me commandeer a phone,” I mutter, and I let my fingers slide from Cardan’s arm to his hand. My palm is starting to sweat when he laces our fingers together, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

The glass door to the waiting room slides with a hissing whisper, and inside there are people crowded in the cheap chairs lining the walls. Somewhere, a toddler is wailing out of sheer boredom while the evening news anchors jabber on a TV mounted in the far corner above a potted plant. Cardan’s already drawing stares with his ominous, messy appearance. He found a beanie in the pocket of the sweatshirt to cover the pointed tips of his ears, but there’s still kohl streaking his prominent cheekbones. I’m gonna need to clean him up at some point.

Right now, all I’m focused on is slipping into the first open intake seat and figuring out how in the hell I’m going to see a doctor for the first time in my mortal life. I am going to be brave. I have trained for nothing less.

“Hi, how can we help you today?” says a warm-looking middle-aged nurse behind the desk. She has short grey hair and floral scrubs, and a pair of readers perched on the bridge of her nose. Her badge says her name is Josie.

“Um.” My mouth feels dry, but I push on anyway. “I am—I am pregnant, and, um, I’m having some…” I draw in a shaking breath. Why is this so hard? “Some bleeding. I think I need to see a doctor right away.”

“Of course, honey,” Josie says, and peers over her readers. “Have you spoken with your OB?”

“I don’t have one,” I shake my head, my face starting to flush as Josie’s concern increases. I’ve never felt like I belonged in the mortal realm, and it’s never felt more apparent that I’m an outsider.

“Okaaay,” Josie says, slowly, adjusting her readers as she turns to her computer. “Let’s get you registered. Name?”

I hesitate again. I’ve never given my name in any sort of official capacity here among mortals. Especially not since I’d gotten married. What do I want to be called?

“Jude Duarte-Greenbriar,” I hear myself answer. From the chair beside me, Cardan titters a little amused laugh to himself and then bites it back when I shoot him a look. He likes the sound of it, too.

“Okaaay,” Josie says again, pecking at her keyboard. “I’m gonna need you to spell that for me, honey.”

I appall Josie further as the registration process yields the fact that I have neither a driver’s license nor an insurance card. With each of Josie’s judgmental sighs, I can sense Cardan stiffening with repressed irritation next to me, and it’s only stressing me out more. I should have had a talk with him first about promising not to curse anyone. I’m half-expecting Josie to sprout cat ears at any minute.

“While we can’t legally decline services based on insurance,” Josie says, doing little to suppress her concern, “I will need you to sign this agreement that says you understand that, since you are not presenting insurance today, you will be personally responsible for the entire cost of today’s visit.” And she shifts a clipboard toward me.

“Oh, look, love,” Cardan suddenly chimes in. He slides a wet leaf from his pocket across the registration desk as his voice takes on the heady, dangerous quality of magic. He’s conjuring a glamour. “I think you can see all of the insurance information you require here.”

“Oh, good, you found your card!” Josie exclaims, delighted, as she takes the leaf and begins happily clacking away at her keyboard.

“Do not get carried away,” I hiss at Cardan while Josie’s distracted. “That should be a one time thing.”

But Cardan just slits his kohl-lined eyes at me, looking like the smug bastard he’s always been, and leans an elbow on the registration desk, throwing Josie a coy smile. The glamour in his voice when he speaks again is just as sinfully seductive.

“And Josie, my sweet,” he says, “you’ll let my wife borrow your phone to speak with her sister, won’t you, dearest?”

“Of course, Mr. Greenbriar,” Josie replies, with the charmed-sweet smile of the glamoured. She shifts her desk phone to me, handing me the handset. “Just press nine for outgoing calls, honey,” she tells me.

I’m frowning at Cardan’s wicked smirk as I accept the phone.

“I don’t think that was entirely necessary,” I whisper to him while Josie types away. He grins at me. I don’t really want to admit that he’s just been pretty useful, and he knows it.

Regardless of how ill-gotten this privilege is, I do need Vivi. I dial her cell phone, one of two numbers I know, and wait while it rings.

And rings.

And rings.

“She might be screening her calls,” I say to Josie, sheepishly. “Her father is…” Oh, how to describe what Madoc is like these days. “…over-bearing and tricky.” And I hang up and try again. Josie gives a tight, uncomfortable smile, peering over her readers.

“You are not concerned about how unusual this is,” Cardan tells her, the glamour dripping off his voice, and I smack his arm to get him to stop. Josie settles again as the phone keeps ringing.

I have to hang up and dial two more times before Vivi finally picks up. She sounds irritated when she answers.

“Vivi, this is Jude,” I say, slumping in relief that she’s finally answered.

“Jude? Seriously? What?” The annoyance in her voice vanishes as she’s scrambling to understand. “You’re calling me? Where are you? Are you ok?”

“I’m at the Down East Community Hospital emergency room,” I say. “Can you come?”

“Oh, my God.” It sounds like Vivi’s suddenly frantically looking for her keys. “Yes, I’m coming. I’ll be there. Why are you there? What’s going on?”

“It’s a lot to explain over the phone,” I say, slowly, white-knuckling the handset. “I’m ok, and Cardan’s here, but I just really need you.” I hate it more than anything, but I can’t keep the frightened younger sister out of my voice now that I’m actually talking to Vivi about this. The first rush of relief hits me when Vivi replies without hesitation:

“Ok. It’s gonna be ok. I’m on my way.”

I let out a long breath as I hand the phone back to Josie.

“The nurse will call you back when they’re ready for you,” says Josie, and gestures to the crowded waiting room. “Have a seat.”

“Or--” Cardan starts, leaning forward, and I know he’s about to throw out another glamour to speed things along. In the blink of an eye, I clap a hand over his mouth before he can say another word.

“Thank you,” I tell Josie, through a gritted smile, and urge Cardan to move along.

“Your moral stance on glamours ought to have a loophole where our child is concerned,” Cardan gripes as we shuffle to the nearest available two chairs.

“You Folk are like addicts with glamours,” I snap back as we take a seat. “You don’t know when to stop.”

“I believe I’ve proven myself capable of great restraint,” Cardan says, looking miffed for a moment until a People magazine on a nearby table catches his eye and his curiosity of mortals gets the better of him.

He has the right idea, I think. Distraction would be the key to getting my mind off the blood and not falling apart right now. I’ve done everything I can at this point, and now we must wait.

I busy myself for a moment by wrapping the cuff of my sleeve over my fingers and wiping off the rain-splattered streaks of kohl off Cardan’s face, so that the father of my child looks less like the troubled D-list celebrities his People magazine is trashing. He’s not drawing any less attention, but there’s not much either of us can do about that. If you’re not accustomed to the allure of the Folk, it’s nigh impossible to not stare and stare and try to decipher what it is about them that’s so otherworldly. But at least now they’re staring for the right reasons and not at his ruined eyeliner.

With nothing more at arm’s length to distract me, I rest my head against the wallpaper behind me and let my vision go unfocused in the general direction of the TV in the corner. I don’t want to think about the whining toddler in the room, who’s mad at his mother for not bringing the right stuffed animal with them to the hospital. What would I do with a half-human child in Faerie who fell ill or wounded? What would we do? Would the land let Cardan heal him? Would we have to make this journey again? What if I forgot the right stuffed animal, too??

Amazing that I’m suddenly assuming this child is going to survive whatever’s happening now, I realize, and this worry spiral is helping no one.

Once upon a time, I’d been the girl determined to become a thing feared. What has happened inside me, that I’m now this terrified woman? I hate it. I hate it, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“You’re not afraid of that everything will change?” I remember asking Cardan, three moons ago. I had thrown out the last of my birth control that day. We’d snuck away from a revel to lie beneath the massive tree that grew out of the top of the palace of Elfhame, staring at the stars above and dreaming of what they could hold.

Cardan looked to me, his hands behind his head in the loam, his crown slightly askew. He smiled, and the moonlight made him almost too beautiful to bear.

“I cherish every change you’ve ever brought me, Jude,” he said, and he stretched out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers softly lingering at its rounded edges. “I don’t see why this should be any different.”

“You’ve not always felt so gracious about the changes I’ve foisted upon you,” I pointed out. “And you don’t get to exile me now if my parenting pisses you off.”

I’m not sure what I thought he’d think of such a statement, but it was out in the night air anyway. His gold-rimmed eyes darkened as he pulled his hand back, folding it over his chest. I watched him as he stared up at the stars again, waiting for his response, and with each second, regret began to sink in.

“I consider myself fairly thick-skinned,” he said at last, “but that was uncalled for.”

“I was teasing--” I started, but he shot me a dark look.

“There was a measure of truth in your voice,” he countered. “You don’t lie as well as you think you do.”

“I don’t see what you’re so put out about,” I huffed, pulling back to glare at the night sky. “You weren’t the one living in exile.”

“Not this again,” Cardan groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Five years, Jude. It’s been five years,” he sighed into his palms.

“And now we’re discussing children, and it’s a very large and potentially aggravating change,” I said. “Maybe I am a little wary.”

“Of me?” The moment I saw the unguarded devastation on Cardan’s face, it was like I’d slapped him, and not in the fun way. I wanted to be swallowed down by the loam, covered in a grassy grave. Everything about this was awful. I wanted children with this man. Why was I dredging up ancient history?

But Cardan had been right. There’d been a measure of truth to it. It’s been a deliriously wonderful five years, but we are not entirely new people. We have a terrible past. And I feared what demons a significant change like this could summon.

When I didn’t answer right away, Cardan sat up so his back was to me, burying his head in his hands.

“Cardan…” I shifted so that I was propped up on my hands.

“What else can I give you to make this right?” he fretted to the ground in front of him. “I have given you everything. Every part of me, everything you see before you. It was wrong for both of us to take our games as far as we did, but I would have thought by now--”

“It was an off-handed comment made in poor taste.” I wanted to put a stop to everything that was happening. Rewind the whole evening.

Instead, he looked over his shoulder at me, visibly aching.

“I will not be like my father. I refuse it,” he retorted, and when I cocked my head to the side, not understanding, he went on. “Eldred collected consorts and sired children the way some people curate shoes: to suit his vanity. And I have that in spades already; there’s no need to spawn more. What I would want for a child, more than anything, is to not know what it is to grow up as an accessory. To not fear that his mother will be discarded. Jude, if you cannot trust so little of me, then this is poorly timed. Perhaps we need another five years. Or ten. Or however long you require.”

I sat up and scooted next to him, tucking my chin against his shoulder.

“I trust you,” I assured him in a whisper, and, as if he couldn’t help it, his eyes closed as he leaned his head towards mine. He smelled like oakwood and leather, like everything I’ve ever wanted. “I would not still be with you if I did not trust you.”

I wanted to push back the thick curls from his forehead, and so I did. And held my palm against his jaw as I leaned my forehead to his while the stars twinkled overhead.

Five years later, and sometimes we’re still finding little bits of armor that need to come off. For me, becoming a fearsome thing is not an option for handling motherhood, just as Cardan refuses to mirror his father’s vanity. But when I take off this bit of armor, this need to be feared and respected, it feels as if there is nothing underneath yet. Only vulnerability. Only terror.

I think of it now, in the ER waiting room of the Down East Community Hospital, while I snake my arm through his, looking at him while he’s ogling People magazine. He looks a mess, and there is no one I trust more. I’m still not convinced we’re shining examples of excellent would-be parents. But I’m afraid and vulnerable in the worst ways, and there’s no one I’d rather see me through it.

“Eldred would never have done something like this for any of his consorts,” I point out to him in a whisper, and he looks back at me with a pleased smirk.

“You are my wife,” he indicates, and gives my cold knuckles a swift kiss before turning back to whatever filth is engrossing him in People.

“Jude Duarte-Greenbriar?” There’s a nurse at the emergency room door calling my name. I draw in a breath. Here we go.

The nurse in blue scrubs takes my vitals and makes us somewhat comfortable in a makeshift space where we’re surrounded by taupe-colored curtains on three sides while I wait on a hospital bed. There’s a squeaky grey plastic chair for Cardan to sit on, and no more TV or People magazine – just the assurance that a doctor will see me soon. And then we’re left with our dread to stare at the taupe curtains around us, listening to the squeak of hurried shoe soles against linoleum and the occasional beeping of hospital pagers. The air is acrid, like someone’s tried to scrub it clean, and it’s making my stomach lurch. It must show on my face as I swallow hard against the rising bile, because Cardan swiftly hands me a blue plastic barf bag that the nurse has left him in charge of. He’s wary of my empty threats to aim for his shoes.

“Jude, are you decent?” calls a voice from the other side of the curtain. “You have visitors.”

The curtains scrape against their tracks on the ceiling, and I can’t hold back a relief grin at the sight of Vivi and Heather.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” It’s all Vivi can say as she sweeps in to wrap me in a hug.

“Hey,” Heather graciously greets Cardan while the two are awkward to the side. She’s looking effortlessly cool, with her shoulder-length pink hair in soft waves. She has holes in her jeans in all the right places, and she’s wearing a breezy, colorful boho top that shows off her brown shoulders. I try to give her a wave while Vivi is squeezing the life out of me.

“What are you doing here?” Vivi demands when she pulls away, holding me by the shoulders. She’s given her golden hair a short, edgey chop that almost hides the pointed tips of her half-fae ears when it falls the right way. She tends to favor t-shirts and jeans, but today she’s in tight black pants and a grey v-neck under a jacket, and I’m hoping I haven’t interrupted a date.

“Well.” I shift a glance between the two of them, simultaneously gladdened that they’re here and nervous with how I now I have break the news. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out…” And then Vivi gasps.

“Are you pregnant?!” she squeaks.

“Oh, my God, V,” Heather rolls her eyes. “You can’t ask people if they’re pregnant.”

“She’s right, though,” I interject. “I am.”

“Jude!” Vivi exclaims, fondly, and takes my face in her hands, and, for a brief moment, I realize this is all I’ve been wanting for weeks. I grin, sheepishly. Then Vivi narrows her cat-like eyes at Cardan.

“You knocked up my sister?” she jabs.

“Bold of you to assume it’s mine,” he quips back, and Vivi feigns a disgusted gasp as throw the empty barf bag at him.

“Force of habit,” Cardan tells Heather with a shrug.

“Congratulations, Cardan,” Heather replies, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“But why are you here?” Vivi turns to me again. “Does Taryn know? Does Madoc?”

“No on both counts,” I shake my head. “It’s early. And we’re here because--” Ugh, I hate this. I hate this. “I started bleeding.”

“Oh, no.” Heather’s face is etched with genuine concern. It’s been a roller coaster of a few minutes.

“But why are you here?” Vivi tries again, and I see what she’s getting at. Why not be seen to by the royal midwives?

“I’m mortal,” I say, quietly. “This is a mortal thing. I felt like I needed a mortal doctor.”

And Vivi takes my face in her hands.

“I completely, one-hundred-percent agree,” she says, whole-heartedly, and there’s relief there, too. She’s always wanted me to spend more time in the mortal realm.

We crowd around the hospital bed for a while to catch up. Heather makes a run to the vending machine to bring back some snacks, and soon the tightness in my chest is releasing and unwinding. This was the distraction I needed. For a few minutes there, I could almost forget what had brought us to this weird, curtained-off corner to begin with.

But then the curtain scrape on the track again. There’s an orderly waiting there in blue scrubs, pushing a wheelchair.

“They’re ready for you in ultrasound now, Jude,” he tells me, and indicates that I’m supposed to ride in the chair. I bristle at the gesture. I’m not sure of the last time I’ve been asked to do something so vulnerable and humiliating. I am not ill. I don’t need this.

Vivi notices and puts a hand at my arm.

“It’s just standard hospital procedure, Jude,” she says, in her tone of voice she uses to convince Oak to eat vegetables.

So I comply. Heather and Vivi tell us they’ll wait for us to get back, and then we’re off. Cardan follows the orderly, and every once and awhile, I hear him having to jog to catch up – he’s easily distracted by what all the mortals are up to in this place.

I’m wheeled into a dark room with an exam table. Next to it is a bunch of strange equipment I’ve never seen before – screens and wands and all sort of buttons. A technician waits for us there, a woman in pink scrubs with a badge that says her name is Brenna. Her dark, curly hair is pulled back tight against her scalp, and she has kind brown eyes that smile when she tells me to make myself comfortable on the exam table.

“And is this Dad?” Brenna wants to know, cheerfully waving Cardan in to have a seat on a grey plastic chair next to me.

“Not my dad,” I say, not understanding the question at first. Then it dawns on me. “I mean, he’s the father, yes. Of the baby.” Oh, my God. This is off to a great start. Cardan’s trying very hard to not laugh outright at me and failing miserably. His laugh comes out like one long snort.

“Happens all the time,” Brenna says, with another cheerful wave, which makes me wonder why she’s still asking it, then.

“First baby?” Brenna now wants to know, making small talk while she’s queuing up her equipment.

“First everything,” I reply, hoping that will explain my nerves. “First baby, first ultrasound, first try.”

“Oh.” Brenna sounds impressed and looks to Cardan as she wheels around in her swivel chair. “Nice shootin’, Tex,” she tells him, with a wink.

“Thank you, Brenna,” Cardan accepts graciously, puffing out his chest a little. I roll my eyes.

“This may be the only time I’m ever complimented on my marksmanship,” he tells me. “Let me have this moment.”

“All right!” Brenna interrupts. “Let’s see what you’re cookin’ in there, mama.”

She rolls up my shirt and tucks in some scratchy paper into my leggings. Then squirts some cold gel across my abdomen. I watch in fascination while she rolls her device over my stomach, and then she turns her screen to us.

“And here’s your little guy,” she says. “Or gal. Can’t tell yet, obviously.”

For a moment, time stops.

Next to me, Cardan draws in a breath.

Something squirmy and alive curls and stretches in the grainy black and white pixels of Brenna’s screen. It doesn’t look quite human. Or fae. It looks kind of alien, if I’m being honest. But I can see its tiny limbs and the outline of its perfectly round head, and it’s moving. Like a manic little seahorse, our little shrimp is bobbing all over the place, alive and well.

“Looking good,” Brenna says, and Cardan barks out a surprised laugh. I’m smiling so hard my face might break.  

“Oh, I was sure I’d stabbed it,” Cardan sighs in relief, slumping in his seat, and it’s my turn to laugh.

“That’s not actually possible,” Brenna tells him, and maybe now he’ll believe it. “Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat.”

She clicks and clacks at some buttons, then turns a knob. Pushes a little harder on my abdomen.

A fluttering, steady whooshing sound fills the speakers in the room. I don’t know when I grabbed Cardan’s hand, but I’m squeezing it hard now. I glance at him. He’s utterly transfixed on the screen, his dark eyes wide, his lips parted. He looks like how I feel when I’m in bearing witness to great and ancient magic.

This isn’t all vomit and exhaustion. This is happening. This is real.

We are making something new. Something entirely unique. Like magic.

“Ok, this might be your issue.” Brenna breaks the enchantment, zooming in on something dark on her screen. My heart, which moments before felt like it might burst, squeezes and contracts in panic now.

“This is a sub-chorionic hematoma,” she says, pointing to the screen and making some notes. “The doctor will explain all this to you.”

“What is it?” Cardan’s voice is tight, panic thinly-veiled. “Is it dangerous?”

“They’re pretty common,” says Brenna, not looking at us while she takes measurements and notes. Like she drops these kinds of bombs regularly. “It’s basically an accumulation of blood between the uterine wall and the fetal membrane. It can cause bleeding, especially as the baby gets bigger and jostles it around. They usually resolve without much issue.”

“Usually?” Cardan’s not assuaged.

“Well, again,” Brenna says, looking at him sidelong, “the doctor will read this and give his advice. But it can increase the risk of miscarriage in some cases. Not always, though. The doctor will tell you how he wants you to treat it, but it usually involves some bed rest or limited activity, nothing too strenuous or crazy. Don’t go horse-back riding!” And she laughs as if only a crazy person would get on a horse while pregnant.

I look to Cardan. He looks to me. It’s hit us at the same time.

The ragwort horse.

How the hell are we getting home?

“Huh.” I barely had time to digest my realization about the ragwort horse before Brenna was back with more. She swivels the device on my stomach around some more. Cocks her head to the side.

“Are either of you a twin?” she asks.

Cardan points at me like I’ve done something wrong he doesn’t want to be blamed for.

“Why?” I ask, slowly, cautiously.

“It does run in families,” Brenna says, and turns the screen to us again. “And I’m seeing two babies here.” She looks back at Cardan. “And on the first try, Tex,” she says, looking impressed again.

Now, nothing feels real. I think I might leave my body. There are two squirmy aliens in the black and white screen, the lazier of the two now floating into view. Brenna adjusts the knobs some more to bring the new heartbeat into focus, just as strong as the first.

“Jude.” I can’t decipher what Cardan’s feeling now. He looks unlike I’ve ever seen him before. Something between elation and sheer dread is warring between his wide eyes and furrowed brow. He grips at the beanie over his hair like he’s trying to keep his own head from flying off.

“Are you and your twin identical?” Brenna asks. I nod, stupidly.

“These, too,” she nods, and points at the screen. “See: they’re sharing a sac.” She draws in a deep breath. “This does elevate the risk more, with the hematoma. The doctor will go over all of this with you. But I’ll bet he’ll want you on some kind of bed rest. Weekly check-ups. That sort of thing.” And then she squints hard at the screen. “What is that?” she wonders aloud. “Is that a tail?”

“You don’t see a tail,” Cardan says, but he’s so flustered and shell-shocked, he’s forgotten to use the glamour.

“I think I might, though.” Brenna squints harder.

“You don’t see a tail,” Cardan says, louder and hurried, this time with the weight of magic heavy in his tone. “Everything you see looks normal to you.”

A glamoured smile flutters over Brenna’s pleasant features as she lifts the device from my belly and clicks off her equipment.

“Everything looks normal,” she hums, happily. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Everything but the hematoma, right?” I cock my head to the side as she rolls away her swivel chair. “The doctor will speak to us about that.”

“What hematoma?” Brenna’s still smiling as she stands with her clipboard. “Everything looks normal. I’m going to call an orderly, but pretty much you’re free to go. Congratulations!”

“Cardan,” I accuse under my breath as she leaves, leveling a glare at him.

“You are carrying twins.” He’s just agape at me, either unaware or unrattled by how the poor wording in his glamour just muddled everything.

“The doctor won’t know about the hematoma now!” I exclaim.

“We’ll scrounge up another one somewhere,” Cardan waves me off. “Jude. Twins.”

It’s not helping me feel any better, him saying it over and over again. I slump into my hands, weighted by disbelief and frustration. What am I going to do? This can’t possibly be real, can it?

“I am going to get so huge,” I moan into my palms in self-pity. I know it’s vain, but at the moment, it’s all I can think. In the land of willowy Folk, I already stick out like a sore thumb. Now I’m going to be a sore and massively swollen thumb.

Cardan’s shifted to stand in front of me on the exam table. And he runs his hands up and down my arms, almost reverent.

“You are magnificent,” he reassures me, softly, and presses a kiss against my head.

“Why are you not freaking out?” I ask, and pull him by the hoodie pockets so I can hug him again if I need it. I think I may need it. “This is two babies. We don’t even know Thing One about taking care of one baby, and now there will be two.”

“We may require a few more house cats,” Cardan jokes, and when I scowl, he asks, “That’s still not amusing? I shall persist. One of these days.”

“You know, I hear that’s a mortal fatherhood trait,” I point out. “Persisting over and over with the same unamusing joke to the embarrassment of everyone around you.” And I wrap my arms around his waist as I look up at him. He’s warm, and everything is a little more bearable when he’s close and smiling.

“I think you are implying that I’m excelling at fatherhood so far,” Cardan grins down at me, and I’m surprised to see it looks as if his gold-rimmed eyes are glistening.

“Are you all right?” I ask, softening at the sight. He blinks, furiously, as he buries his long fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me close as he looks over my face.

“I just--” His voice is hoarse when he starts, so he clears it and tries again. “This is more than I ever dared to consider,” he says. “I did not dream that this kind of life would ever be an option for me. Family that looked after each other, that loved each other – that always seemed to me to be a strictly mortal gift. As if the Folk had bargained for everlasting life long ago and forsook all hope of familial love in the process. I had accepted that it wasn’t mine to have. But you.”

He shifts his hands so that he holds my face, and I feel swallowed by the adoration in his admission. All I can do is close my eyes as he holds me. I can think of nothing else when his nose brushes my forehead.

“I am overcome by all you have given me,” he whispers, and I think I might cry. My hands twist in the fabric of the sweatshirt he wears.

“I love your words,” I whisper back, “but you give me too much credit.” I pull back to look at his mirthful, glistening eyes and say: “If it were left up to me, I would never have given you twins.”

He laughs outright, unguarded and thrilled.

“Lucky for me, then,” he says, and kisses me.

I have kissed him hundreds, maybe thousands of times. We have shared passionate, unbridled kisses and desperate, devouring kisses. We’ve kissed at quick partings, and we’ve kissed with soft, gentle comfort. I like everything about them all. But this is something entirely new, something that surprises me still. It’s filled with gratitude and promises and dreams of the future, and though it is intimate, I would not have felt ashamed if someone had walked in.

It’s the kiss of complete trust, and in that moment, I feel assured that, in Cardan, I have not made a mistake. There is much to figure out still. But this is right.

So, we will have twins. I will meet this challenge with resolve. For right now, anyway, the quantity of babies is the least of our concerns.

“How in the hell am I supposed to get home?” I ask, the moment we pull apart. Cardan rests his hands on my shoulders, screwing up his beautiful mouth in thought. The ragwort horse. The bed rest. The doctor we must scrounge up somewhere. There are a dozen new bullets swirling on a to-do list, and none of them lead us back to Faerie any time soon.

“I haven’t the foggiest,” he confesses. “Which further complicates matters, because there is absolutely no chance that I am leaving you here.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” I say, and press back a smile. “And also glad,” I add.

Cardan meets my smile with a little wicked smirk of his own.

“Is it time we scheme together once again?” he asks.

We cannot get home until this is resolved, and we cannot leave Faerie ungoverned. I have no idea where to even start on this problem.

But that’s certainly never stopped us before.

There’s a knock at the door. The orderly has arrived with the wheelchair to take us back to Vivi and Heather. I give Cardan a secret, knowing smile.

“I suppose it is,” I agree.

-----------------------------

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#the folk of the air #tfota #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #vivienne duarte #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #post-qon #babies! #baby fic #pregnancy fic #fluff #jurdan fluff