#corvus answer

[corvu-ss]

OKAY I CAN DO THINGS NOW

you mentioned that chief doesnt know about the supernaturnal, but someone close to her does? is this a character introduced in psych, or an oc?

are you still planning on writing a fic for this universe?

lassie is unintentionally blocking magic, and you said that it impacts shawn positively with like headaches and lessoning effects, but can he affect the visions negatively? like make it harder to understand?

do they know about their own abilities after it unlocks?

sorry i just love real psychic shawn !!

hello!

so technically both?? it’s a character that exists but isn’t super present so there’s no existing characterization

yes! unfortunately life is a whirlwind but i have started the fic, i just need to finish and post it (it’s gonna be a series of one shots probably)

hmmm possibly! to where i have designed lassies abilities in relation to shawn is that they are mostly touch based, especially at the beginning, so if they touch lassiter essentially blocks all of shawn’s abilities, and just being near lassie (to a certain distance) it dampens abilities to a certain degree so it would certainly make shawn’s visions harder to see them fully and understand them

not necessarily! like once they awaken they don’t just suddenly know all about it, it’s more that once they awaken and learn about it and are conscious of their own abilities, their abilities will start to grow if that makes sense?

#corvus answer #fake real psychic au #real fake psychic au #real psychic shawn spencer #psych #psych tv

[corvusartchronicles]

Little Bean has come to say your art is very delicious.

😮 omg thank you little bean

#corvus answer

[sneez]

corvin

[id: two digital drawings of corvus from the video game paladins. he is a pale-skinned young man wearing a red and black caped coat with the collar pulled up over his mouth, and has brown hair with a white streak. the first image is a portrait of him from the shoulders up alongside a full-body drawing. text beside it reads 'guy who really needs to stim but isnt letting himself so hes just standing about looking intensely uncomfortable'. the second image is a full-body drawing of him holding his pistol and knife in an action pose against a background of scenery from the game. overlayed text reads 'I'M JOINING THE WAR AGAINST AUTISM ON THE SIDE OF THE AUTISM'. end id. ]

#paladins champions of the realm #pcotr #how do i tag him he doesnt have a surname does he. or does he <- guy who doesnt know the lore #paladins corvus #that should do it. im a tagging master #anyway i have been playing more paladins than is good for my health recently and i love this guy a lot #i love For The Greater Good characters especially when they are extremely autism also #it makes me so sad that so many people hate him. i mean i get why but also Hes fun :( and sillay #my entire perspective on him changed once i realised he was autistic (which was almost immediately tbf) #everything made sense. enlightenment #anyway i cant decide if i would recommend paladins because it has kind of ruined my brain and also my sleep #schedule but if any of you already play it/play it in the future im VictorKain over there :-) #can you guess who i main. anyway feel free to friend me (altho i wont know who you are unless you message me first) #i hope you are all doing well my friends! i still have some things to answer im sorry about that i am a slow beaft #i love you all very much. kiss you on head #artwork

[jellydrawsposts]

HOLY YOU'RE TAKING CORVUS DOODLE REQUESTS? WHAT ABOUT SORVUS AS "us in the IKEA showrooms pretending to be a toxic married couple"??? DOES THAT PLEASE THE CORVUS COUNCIL

ANBXSBHCSJBJNCSBJ I DIDN’T INTEND TO START TAKING CORVUS REQUEST I JUST SAW AN EXCUSE TO DRAW HIM MORE AND THEN ENDED UP HERE

ANYWAYS HERES SORVUS IKEA DATE

#fanart #the dragon prince #tdp soren #tdp corvus #sorvus #jelly answers

[ellovett]

Twstsona - Corvus [ Proper Intro ]

More Under the cut!

Occupation: Student, research assistant for the town observatory

School: Night Raven College

Pronouns: They/them/he

Height: 5'9

Homeland: ???

Age: ??, appears to be 16

"The enigmatic man from Diasomnia who's too cosmic for this academy."

Thoughts and Lore:

Corvus is a creature or fae whose origins seems to come from the stars above, theyre very astronomically aligned and hold the concept of space very closely to themselves. they seem to embody it, from their manner of speech to their aesthetic, u can most definitely say that theyre out of this world. One moment he's all boisterous and being overly friendly, and the next they're crying because of some sad mlp tribute video they watched. No one can tell what they're thinking, and I don't think he can tell either.

They don't possess the traditional kind of magic, so they have no need for a magic gem, or for a unique magic, their magical power is condensed in their scarf that they never seem to take off, he uses it as a rope heehee.

How they got into NRC however, is unknown.

Corvus is generally a very nice person, they're a jovial character that smiles a lot....maybe smiles a little too much for anyones liking..see, what Corvus makes up for with their outward charming looks, they lack in social cues. He isnt too sure how to interact with other people, cuz hes never done that kinda stuff before, so they either end up being too friendly or just ends up weirding them out.

They always look so mischievous, like they're planning smthn...but nah he's just thinking about what he's gonna eat for dinner. Quite literally ":3" personified.

They'd lean in a little too close and ask how many fridges are in your home and then wonder why you just ran of all of a sudden. They're eccentric like that! The way they move around is theatrical, and dramatic, very animated in demeanor, their mind doesn't seem to be all there, yknow? Always floating and wandering off somewhere.

GREAT friends with Rook

Divus is their favorite teacher, often hangs out around his classroom or the alchemy lab, shows him funny video of cats while Divus just sighs cuz he knows he can't make Corvus leave.

Divus: .What the fuck do you want!

Corvus: I just wanted to show you my handstand ..

Divus: :/ Do your shit come on!

#twisted wonderland oc #admin post #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst #admin answers #night raven college #twstsona #twst sona #twst mc #diasomnia #diasomnia oc #rbs>likes thooo hehe #corvus

[corvussei]

England for 1A?

Thought I answered this already but alas, I am perhaps a bit of a fool 😔 my apologies bb

Anyway take ur stinky curmudgeon of a man 💗

#hetalia #aph #hws #aph england #hws england #arthur kirkland #corvus answers #corvus creates

[shiyorin]

If I remember correctly you still owe me a req fic ( ` ω ´ )

But that's okay, I can wait, good luck with your thesis (´｡• ω •｡`) ♡

Thanks for waiting, my thesis took almost all of my time. And here is your req fic. Happy 520 day.

One day in summer…

1.

Roboute Guilliman tossed and turned in his massive bed, unable to sleep due to the stifling heat in his bedroom within the Imperial Palace. The air conditioner had broken down and Guilliman, not used to such discomfort, was incredibly distressed.

After hours of sweating and cursing in high gothic, Guilliman decided he could not endure this alone. He rose from his bed and strode purposefully down the halls, making his way to the rooms of one of his brothers.

2.

In his misery, he decided to seek refuge in Leman Russ's room. He made his way to Russ' rooms, banging loudly on the door. A disheveled Russ opened it, looking ready to tear off the head of whoever disturbed his sleep. But at the sight of Guilliman, sweaty and flushed in his rumpled nightclothes, Russ' irritation melted into startled amusement.

"What in the name of" Russ began before Guilliman interrupted.

"Are you a good man, Russ?" Guilliman asked desperately. "Will you let me sleep here tonight?"

Russ blinked blearily, still half asleep. "Aye, m'floor always welcomes ya." He mumbled, just wanting to finish this and go back to sleep.

But Guilliman did not hear the final part. "Thank you, brother," he said, before climbing onto Russ's bed and taking up most of the space.

Russ stared in disbelief. "I said m'floor welcomes ya!"

But Guilliman was already snoring loudly. Russ pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Shoulda known better than ta trust ya with proper manners," he muttered.

Russ debated between dragging Guilliman off the bed or stomping off to find another place to sleep. In the end, exhaustion won out and he simply climbed onto the small sliver of bed left, muttering curses under his breath.

3.

Guilliman and Russ fell into a deep sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. However, their limbs were restless even in slumber.

Russ began twitching and thrashing about, unconsciously throwing punches and kicks. Guilliman was not spared, receiving several blows even as he slept on.

Russ's feet landed a few solid blows to Guilliman's back, eliciting grumbles but no waking. Guilliman's flailing arms smacked Russ in the face a few times, prompting muttered curses but still no waking.

Guilliman soon began fighting in his dreams, lashing out with fists and feet. Russ snarled and fought more ferociously,landing solid hits on Guilliman. 

Russ accidentally kicked Guilliman, causing him to lash out with a startled punch that collided with Russ's jaw. Russ retaliated with an elbow to Guilliman's ribs. As their limbs continued unintentionally striking out at each other, the violence in their dreams intensified. Russ's knees landed a series of jabs to Guilliman's ribs while Guilliman's hands slapped Russ's head repeatedly.

The battle of fists and feet continued, both Primarchs oblivious in their sleep. Until Russ's heel caught Guilliman square in the butt, propelling him off the bed with a shout of indignation. Guilliman's retaliatory punch caught Russ on the jaw, sending him tumbling after.

Russ awoke with a start and groaned as pain shot through his bruised limbs. Guilliman also sat up, looking disoriented and grumpy.

4.

Guilliman and Russ awoke groggily from their tumble to the floor, rubbing bruised limbs and aching bodies.

Guilliman sighed. "Before we attempt further sleep, let us arrange ourselves properly so we do not cause each other further injury."

Russ grumbled in assent and they climbed back into the bed, carefully positioning themselves on opposite sides with as much space between them as possible.

But no sooner had their heads hit the pillow once more then their restless limbs began flailing unconsciously as sleep overtook them. Elbows and knees jabbed, feet kicked and snores sounded as the two primarchs resumed their unconscious scuffle for space.

They continued in this vein for some time, jolting and grunting as they pummeled each other even in sleep. At last, with mighty simultaneous kicks, they once again found themselves on the floor.

This time, to their annoyance, dawn's light was stretching across the sky. They rose stiffly from the floor, covered in bruises and sporting several new cuts.

Finally, Russ could take no more. He shook Guilliman roughly. "Alright ya blueberry, time ta get out m'room!"

5.

Russ recounted the previous night's events to Sanguinius the next day with tiredness. Sanguinius listened with concern for his brothers' injuries but also had to suppress a smile at the image of Guilliman and Russ fighting unconsciously in their sleep.

He told Guilliman, "You may sleep in my room tonight brother. My bed is large enough that we should not disturb one another."

Guilliman agreed, grateful for a respite from the heat of his own room.

That night, Sanguinius' good intentions quickly turned into a nightmare. No sooner had Guilliman dropped off to sleep than his limbs began flailing wildly.

Sanguinius tried patiently to dodge Guilliman's restless kicks and punches. When one accidentally connected, he tried gently shaking Guilliman awake. But Guilliman simply waved Sanguinius' hand away, oblivious to his brother's predicament as he continued lashing out uncontrollably in his sleep.

6.

Sanguinius lay battered and bruised from Guilliman's unconscious blows.Yet he endured with patience and grace, ever the graceful angel.

But as the 13th kick connected squarely with his jaw, Sanguinius felt his patience beginning to fray. He felt the red thirst stirring within, that bloodlust calling for retribution against the one who had wronged him so.

Sanguinius suppressed a growl as another of Guilliman's flailing limbs struck his cheekbone. His mind rebelled at the crude "Fuck" swear words that rose unbidden to his lips.Yet it seemed the only suitable expression for the situation.

Another blow connected with his jaw and Sanguinius saw stars. The red thirst raged now, demanding he forcibly restrain Guilliman and give him a thorough beating to still those restless limbs for good.

Yet at the last moment Sanguinius reined in his rage, recalling his dignity as a son of the Emperor. Instead, he uttered an immortal phrase in the most aristocratic, elegant tone he could muster:

"Your mother never loved you."

He slipped from his room with a sigh of relief, regaining a small measure of satisfaction from Guilliman's surely wounded pride upon awakening.

7.

The next day, Sanguinius approached Lion El'Jonson with an overly warm smile. Lion immediately became suspicious.

"Good brother" he said. "Are you a good man?"

Lion remained on high alert, suspicions raised. "No" he said bluntly.

Undeterred, Sanguinius continued smiling beatifically. "You should strive to be a good Angel, worthy of leading the Dark Angels."

Lion scoffed. "The Imperium already has you, the Angel. It doesn't need another one."

But Sanguinius pressed on. "Being good is the duty of every citizen, including Primarchs."

Lion remained unmoved. Sanguinius' smile took on a sly edge as finally Sanguinius said, "Roboute's air conditioning is still broken. He will sleep in your room tonight."

Lion's eyes widened in horror. "No. Absolutely not."

Sanguinius pretended not to hear, turning to leave with final words of wisdom. "Learning to help others selflessly is the first step to becoming a good man."

Lion watched him go, seething. "That conniving, self-righteous thing!" he muttered. "Does he truly think I would fall for such tricks?"

That night, Sanguinius returned to his own room, satisfied. Across the Palace, Guilliman settled in to endure another night of restless turmoil, this time at Lion's expense.

Though the First creaturely denied it, Sanguinius knew he had succeeded in teaching Lion an important lesson: how to learn compassion the hard way.

8.

When Guilliman arrived that night, Lion had placed his great sword across the middle of the bed. "Cross that line" he warned, "and I'll cut you down where you sleep."

Guilliman eyed the sword warily but was too exhausted to argue. He climbed cautiously into bed, keeping well away from the blade.

Soon enough, Guilliman was fast asleep. But just as before, his limbs began flailing unconsciously, catching Lion unawares.

Guilliman's foot soon struck Lion's greatsword, sending it clattering to the floor with a mighty crash. Lion stared in shock as the blade carved a deep gouge into the marble floor.

Lion seethed at being so easily bested, even in sleep. He rose to retrieve his sword, placing it once more between them on the bed. Once more, Guilliman's kick sent it flying across the room.

9.

Lion's rage knew no bounds as Guilliman's flailing limbs relentlessly struck him. As he drew his sword, ready to slice into Guilliman's flailing limbs, a blow caught him square on the chin. Then another on his temple.

Blow after blow rained down upon him, throwing Lion's thoughts into chaos. He began to doubt his life.

Who am I? Where am I? Why did I let this idiot into my room? Why can I not stop his attacks?

Then memories flooded back, of Caliban, of Luther's training sessions, of the Dark Angels. Lion's thoughts cleared even as Guilliman's fists continued to connect.

More memories surfaced, of the Watchers singing their weird song

"Weeheeheehee dee heeheeheehee weeoh aweem away ~"

"Weeheeheehee dee heeheeheehee weeoh aweem away ~"

Then a clumsy kick caught him full in the face, sending Lion's mind reeling once more. His thoughts became more nonsensical, the continuous blows breaking down his grip on reality.

Why did he choose that hideous aquilla green for his legion colors? Was he mad? Did the wings and halos truly suit Dark Angels?

Guilliman's unconscious blows continued, filling Lion's thoughts with self-doubt and shame. Memories of Caliban and the Imperium blurred together in Lion's battered mind.

Finally, dawn's light broke through the window, ending the nightmarish assault. Guilliman sheepishly took his leave while Lion lay dazed and humiliated.

It took hours for Lion to gather his wits. When he did, only one thought remained clear: If Sanguinius ever tricked him again, next time his sword would fall upon a worthier target.

10.

Vulkan saw Lion's haggard, bruised face and asked worriedly, "What troubles you, brother?"

Lion replied wearily, "The tech-priests have still not repaired the air conditioning in Roboute's room."

Vulkan, ever the compassionate and generous brother, assured Lion, "Roboute is welcome to rest in my room and use the air conditioner there."

But what shocked everyone was not Vulkan's kindness, but the fact that he had air conditioners in his room.

Ferrus joined them, laughing incredulously. "You have air conditioners, Vulkan? Since when?"

Vulkan looked confused. "I have always had air conditioning."

Corax stared at Vulkan. "But...you're from Nocturne. You grew up in constant fiery forges and volcanic heat."

Vulkan smiled softly. "True, but in the palace I prefer comfort."

The others exchanged astonished looks.

Lion turned to Vulkan in relief. "At least Roboute's flailing limbs will not trouble me again."

Now it was Vulkan's turn to look confused. "Flailing limbs? What do you mean?"

Lion sighed. "Nevermind. Just...enjoy your air conditioning. In peace."

With that, Lion retreated, shaking his head in wonder. It's not his business now.

11.

Vulkan finally understood what Lion had meant by "flailing limbs". He deeply regretted agreeing to let Guilliman sleep in his room.

As Guilliman's unconscious blows rained down, Vulkan's kindly nature gave way to irritation. He wondered if Guilliman was actually a Salamander in disguise, for no true human could contort their body into such magical sleeping positions.

Vulkan had to restrain himself from grabbing his thunder hammer and teaching Guilliman a lesson. Instead he reminded himself over and over that they were brothers, and sharing was caring. But the regret grew with every bruise and cut.

Guilliman's relentless assault chipped away at Vulkan's patience. Kind thoughts were replaced by vengeful fantasies of hitting Guilliman with his hammer. Only his fundamental goodness held him back from action.

That night seemed to last an eternity for Vulkan. Each blow chipped away at his goodwill until finally, in the cold light of dawn, Vulkan could bear no more. For the first time in his life, he roughly tossed Guilliman from his bed while his brother still slept.

This night, Vulkan had learned a valuable lesson: that generosity has its limits, even among brothers.

Some lessons, it seemed, could only be truly learned the hard way. Vulkan now knew that while sharing was caring in principle, in practice there were some things better left unshared, like one's room with Guilliman's flailing limbs.

12.

The next morning, Ferrus Manus noticed Vulkan's tired and bruised face. Concerned, he offered his help.

Guilliman looked embarrassed. "I apologize for troubling you brother."

But Ferrus waved away his apology. "I am tough," he said. "It will take more than flailing limbs to best me." He smiled at Guilliman. "Besides, how bad could you be compared to Fulgrim?"

Ferrus then turned to Vulkan. "Why have the tech-priests not yet repaired Roboute's air conditioning?"

Vulkan sighed. "All the air conditioners in the Imperial Palace are ancient relics from the 3rd millennium. The tech-priests have difficulty finding replacement parts, having to travel back and forth between Terra and Mars."

Ferrus nodded in understanding. Then he said to Guilliman, "You can use my room tonight. I do not require rest as often as you fleshy types."

Guilliman looked grateful. "Thank you Ferrus."

Vulkan smiled at the scene, glad to see brotherly love overcoming adversity. But privately he wondered if Ferrus understood completely what he had volunteered for. Still, Vulkan had faith that whatever happened that night, brotherhood would win in the end.

13.

Vulkan was wrong to think that brotherhood could win.

And Ferrus was also mistaken, Guilliman proved far more worse than even Fulgrim.

That night, as Guilliman's flailing limbs struck relentlessly, Ferrus had to restrain himself from strangling his brother with his iron hands.

Each blow chipped away at Ferrus' iron resolve. Flesh may have been weak, but even his iron will had limits.

Through gritted teeth, Ferrus repeated like a mantra "Flesh is weak." Yet inside he knew that his own will was growing weaker by the moment.

Guilliman punched him in the eye, sending Ferrus reeling. He resisted the urge to lash out, knowing it would only compound the strife between brothers.

But as more blows landed with sickening thuds, Ferrus found himself longing for the peaceful solitude of his forge. At least there he was not subject to his brother's unthinking violence.

The night seemed endless. Ferrus' iron will felt close to snapping. Only the knowledge that dawn would bring an end to this torment kept him from acting in haste and hatred.

At last, mercifully, Guilliman stilled. Ferrus, aching in body and soul, silently left the room. He resolved never again to underestimate Guilliman asleep or awake.

14.

The next day Guilliman found Corax lurking in a shadowy corner, brooding as usual.

Guilliman approached him with a pitiful expression. "Are you a good man, brother?" he asked.

Corax replied suspiciously, "I am not a man. I am a Corvus."

Undeterred, Guilliman pressed on. "But as the Emperor's son, a Corvus is also a man."

Corax scowled. "I don’t want-"

But Guilliman interrupted with a pleading look. "The air conditioner in my room has not been repaired yet. Will you let me sleep in your room just this once?"

Though reluctant, Corax finally acquiesced. "Very well, just this once."

15.

Corax crouched in the shadows of his room, brooding as Guilliman's restless limbs flailed about the bed.

He thought to himself, I am not human. I am Corvus. All I want is to be left alone with my thoughts of baby corvus and my Raven Guard.

But no one considers my feelings. Everyone is a selfish being who knows only themselves. The world is cruel and unjust place. There is no harmony in the universe. The only constant suffering...

Guilliman kicked and punched, jarring Corax from his grim reflections. Annoyance flared within him. Must I endure this irritation with no respite for my brooding soul?

As dawn broke, Corax could contain himself no more. Perching upon the bedpost, he cried out in anguish:

"Nevermore!"

His words rang with the sorrow of millennia. The lament of a lonely soul who could find no peace, even within his own room.

Guilliman stirred at last, ceasing his restless flailing. Seeing Corax brooding in the corner, he flushed with shame.

"Forgive me brother, for troubling you." he said contritely.

But Corax merely glowered. Some wounds, it seems, run too deep for apology. Some peace is too fragile to withstand disturbance.

With a choked "Nevermore" Corax swept from the room, escaping once more into solitude.

16.

After Corax's outburst, the other Primarchs gathered round Guilliman, asking him why he had the troublesome habit of flailing limbs while sleeping.

Guilliman flushed with embarrassment. "Perhaps it is because I sleep in new places." he replied meekly. In truth, he had always been this way. But he was too embarrassed to admit it.

Vulkan, Ferrus and Corax decided enough was enough. They resolved to travel to Mars to speed up the repairs on Guilliman's malfunctioning air conditioning.

Now only Dorn remained, tasked with housing Guilliman for the night. He agreed reluctantly, declaring that fortifications would contain Guilliman's violence where his brothers had failed.

17.

Dorn was confident that his pillow fortress would withstand any assault. But he was wrong. No sooner had he built the first one then it was demolished by a flailing limb.

Dorn wondered what had gone wrong, how his mighty fortification had fallen so easily. Undaunted, he vowed to rebuild, stronger this time.

Again he erected walls of pillows around himself, reinforcing weak points and leave no openings. But once more, Guilliman's limbs breached the defenses within moments.

Dorn persisted, determined to meet this challenge as befitting Terra's Praetor. With each fail, he recorded his errors and weaknesses, correcting them in the next iteration.

Finally, he was sure he had conceived the perfect fortress - the pinnacle of pillow - based fortification. But no sooner was it erected then it too came crashing down.

Watching his magnum opus collapse, Dorn knew he could persist no longer. Dorn finally realized the futility of his efforts. He could not fortify against this unconquerable enemy.

Resigned, Dorn dismantled his final pillow attempt. "No more." he muttered. "I amn't Terra's protector tonight."

18.

Jaghatai Khan returned from his travels to find his brothers weary and battered. Upon learning the cause - Guilliman's restless sleeping and malfunctioning air conditioner. Khan was dumbfounded.

"Could you simply let Roboute sleep on the floor?" He suggested. "Or bring in another bed for him?"

Russ, Lion, Dorn and Sanguinius stared at him, then at each other. They had not considered such obvious solutions in their eagerness to help.

Khan pressed on "Or he could use my room while I am away. I don't mind."

Again, his brothers looked sheepish at their own stupidity. Khan just sighed again. Now he would have to deal with Guilliman himself.

19.

Khan thought he had solved the problem by suggesting Guilliman sleep on the floor of his room. But that night, he realized he had gravely underestimated the issue.

Even resting on the floor, Guilliman's unconscious movements were destructive. Khan watched in shock as Guilliman's limbs flung about, kicking over furniture and smashing decorative plates.

Khan stroked his chin, regretting returning to Terra at all. Another crash resounded as Guilliman's foot smashed through an ornate table.

With a sigh, Khan rose to leave. "I think I will start another journey." he muttered. "And not return to Terra for some time."

"Perhaps a month." he mused, walking down the hall. But then he reconsidered. "No, make that five months."

Yet as he continued on, his estimate grew longer. "Perhaps a year away would do me good." he decided.

By the time he reached the ship, Khan had decided he would only return to Terra when absolutely necessary. Until then, he would send gifts and call his brothers occasionally.

Khan gets on his ship with a wry smile. Only now did he truly understand the destructive force that was Roboute Guilliman, asleep or awake.

With that, Khan left in the dawn light. He has enough with his brothers.

20.

Guilliman's air conditioner still hasn't been repaired.

#shiyorin's answer #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #no cp #roboute guilliman #leman russ #sanguinius #lion el'jonson #vulkan #ferrus manus #corvus corax #rogal dorn #jaghatai khan

[howlingday]

Qrow and Corvus Corax being sad birb bois

"Damn." Qrow shook his head, offering his flask to the hulking crow demon seated next to him. Taking it into his claws, the Raven Lord swiftly consumed the intoxicating fluid, though it's alcoholic effects would not be felt thanks to the primarch's advanced body. "Family sucks, huh?"

The Shadowed Lord gave a sad warble as he handed the empty flask back to the dour huntsman, finding an odd kinship with the smaller human.

#rwby #warhammer 40k #corvus corax #qrow branwen #my answer #my answers

[delusional-cryptid]

hi remy :) you remember the post i reblogged from you about the piano :) ? i wrote a little something for you about it :)

He cannot scream. His mouth is sewn shut. He doesn't like to go through the house proper, lest Solomon catch sight of the boy he refuses to truly see.

He cannot play the other instruments. His fingers drip with weak sparks that fizzle out at once. His spectral hands phase through, and the sparks do not catch the wood. The only thing he can touch are the things made of silver, and Solomon makes sure to keep none of them within reach. (He will love running his ghostly fingers over the shoulders of a jacket, silver studding the black like stars, in the place of holding the hands of the person who wears it, but that will come later. In these moments, this wraith of a boy has very little hope for the future.)

He doesn't even know what would happen if he could play the other instruments, anyway. He doesn't know who else is trapped down with him in the basement, and he doesn't know what he'd say if he spoke through the threads to the woman in the fife. Surely nothing good. The entire interaction would make his situation doubtlessly worse, and any catharsis he might get would be muted by the immaterial stitches swallowing his screams.

It is fitting, perhaps, that the only instrument he can play is the one that he is tethered to. The wires circling his wrists lead him towards the ivory keys made with his bones, and they give way beneath his fingers. He cannot press them hard, just enough to make a whisper of a noise before his fingertips slip through. He plays the refrain of one of his old favorite songs. It has been so long, he can no longer remember the words, couldn't sing them even if he was able to speak. He has tried to scorch away the name that never belonged to him staring mockingly from above the keys, to rip out the gold inlay haunting him, but his sparks are too frail and dim, and gold is not silver.

(ad dolor puerum, aurum non est argentum. He can pretend, when his pale luminescence falls upon the lettering, but it will not change its composition.)

One day, when Solomon is gone, a group of thieves enter the house, and among other things, they haul away the piano. He does not know why they chose a grand piano, of all things to steal, but it is being stolen nonetheless. They put his piano inside a different house, one that is slowly decaying, and he fights and he rages and he aches to be given help, a release, 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, but his presence only fills the people in the house with fear, and it drives them out once they figure out they cannot exorcise him without destroying the piano. He burns, wreathed in white fire before their eyes in a final desperate attempt, and they begin to pack up and leave. In his anger, his sparks grow brighter, and he drags his hands across the peeling wallpaper, scorching the words '𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰' over and over until a furrow in the wall appears, sunken and charred, and he is alone in the unfamiliar house. There was a reason he had learned to hide his emotions.

He waits, and he waits, until a new figure appears in the doorway, clawed and tall and glancing curiously with blank white eyes, until they see him, and immediately spread their claws defensively. Even as they lower their claws, seemingly transfixed, he remains on guard. When they lay eyes on the piano, however, they cry out and collapse, blank eyes closed. When they awake, he does his best to explain his predicament to them, trying to convey that the word mocking him from its perch above the keys is not his name at all, and that they should destroy the piano. They reach out to the keys, plinking out a refrain from a song he never got the chance to hear, a faraway look in their eyes. They focus back on him, and express apologies for disturbing him, and gladness to have come across him. They have not yet seen a single other soul on their travels. They attempt to cut the threads across his mouth with their black-tipped claw, and the spectral boy isn't sure how much more his emotions can take when it doesn't work. He mimes a request to destroy the piano, hoping that they're as strong as they look, and will be able to get rid of it easier than his dim sparks and shining hands. Despair rises as he thinks they will refuse, but, if his knees were corporeal, they would grow weak with relief when they agree to send him into nothingness.

The revenant sets the piano alight, and pain wracks his stolen, incorporeal bones as gold and red and, at last, hollow black fill his vision.

He awakens, feeling a tugging on his wrists. He is floating, as he usually does, above the ground. He is in a forest, and the wires flowing from his wrists trail from the revenant's pocket, where he knows a single piano key rests. The revenant does not seem to know he is there, and he isn't sure what to feel. He still exists, the pale-eyed revenant hadn't fully destroyed the piano like they had said they would, but, they seem nice. Kind. They had helped him, and he wasn't stuck in a house anymore. He is as free as he is likely to get anytime soon. And suddenly, the revenant is surprised by two creatures, antlered and hooved, and now their arm is halfway across the clearing, and they seem so small in the face of the things intent on ripping them apart at the seams. He cannot let this happen, for his own sake and theirs. He glows, rising behind them, wreathed in burning white that drives the creatures away. They are surprised and apologetic that they unknowingly kept him tethered to them, but he finds himself stopping them. He cannot see their face for all their long, matted hair, but he thinks he would like to. He would like to get to know this strange, wandering person further. Perhaps they can play a refrain together. The piano key's destruction will wait.

Percy Reed knows three things. The first is that his name is Percy Reed, no matter what a certain instrumentalist would say.

The second is that he is dead, but that he has found a person worth living for.

The third is that he is free, from the piano, from the name that was never his, from the man who once was called his father. He still cannot scream, but he has far less reasons to do so, as he grows to love running his fingers over silver studded like stars on the shoulders of a black jacket, and to love the person wearing it, whose hands he cannot yet hold.

Mx. Corvus this was absolutely world shattering tysm for gracing my inbox with this 🫶🫶 I love them so much it’s not even funny-

#remy rambles #asks answered #hiii Corvus!!!!! #hfth #hello from the hallowoods #save #I love this so much /gen #percy reed #diggory graves

[irlusa]

rusame - 8 and 21 for the ask game!

8- what do they love most about the other? Why?

Ivan loves Alfred's boundless energy and decisiveness- where Ivan shrinks away and sinks into anxiety, Alfred plows ahead and can help him with decision paralysis or pull him out of his shell/a bad mental spiral. And while it embarrasses him, Ivan loves how openly Alfred shows affection- the man showers his partner in compliments and little gifts, one of his common phrases is some variation of "this made me think of you". It makes Ivan remember he's loved.

On Alfred's end, he finds Ivan's presence and energy to be grounding and soothing. Sure, the two can clash, and sure, they rile each other up, but when it comes down to it and it's important, Alfred knows he can return to Ivan and just sink into the other and forget all his fears. And he knows he'll never be "too much" for Ivan.

21- do they enjoy domestic life?

Absolutely! With a small caveat. Both are perhaps a little bit of adrenaline junkies in their own ways, but it's nice to balance that out with soothing days at home. Both are decent cooks, and both like baked goods have sweet tooths (even if Alfred's is more obvious). Plus, it's nice to just snuggle up on those bad days and find peace in each other before they run off on some adventure or trip. And besides, both of them deal with so much in their lives (depending on the universe or au) that they need that spot where the world's eyes aren't on them anymore and it's just the two of them (and their pets). But they're not just homebodies and probably never truly will be.

#tysm for the ask spiny ily 💗 #corvus answers #hetalia #aph america #aph russia #rusame

[creamy-boy]

K, A, and G for alfred for the ask game!

K - Kink (What's a big kink for them?)

Oh man that boy's got a massive breeding kink 100% and loves marking up his partner (he's got a possessive streak fs and loves seeing it on their skin). Also shows of strength, both on his end and from a partner- if they can successfully pin him down or restrain him while he's actively resisting it absolutely gets him going. Aaaand prey/pred type behavior (if you let him chase you down in the woods he eats that shit right up).

A - Aftercare (What kind of aftercare do they like if any?)

Alfred looooooves cuddling and words of affirmation- he's a big snuggler- but often times he's just ready to crash and nap afterwards. He does really need the affirmation tho if he subs and a session leans more into the realm of, say, degradation, otherwise he can internalize stuff a little too much. If he's the one giving and his partners ok w it, he goes the whole nine yards- warm bath, snacks and juice (or tea if you want it, but he only has a half empty box of earl grey and some ginger tea that mattie insisted he had while sick so your options are limited at best).

G - Gentle (How gentle/rough do they like it?)

Probably clear from the first one, but he likes it rough!!! He likes to lose himself in it, whether he's giving or receiving. That doesn't mean he's opposed to it being gentle, he just leans towards the intense side the majority of the time.

#hetalia #aph america #hws america #corvus answers #nsft #ask game

[corvu-ss]

hey, i saw in your post from september about your real psychic shawn au that you were okay with people asking about it—does that still stand?

if not, no worries!

yep! always happy to talk about it if anyone has any questions!! ^^

#corvus answer

[corvusartchronicles]

Hello 😳 could I possibly commission you for a shockwave icon with my username “ovacalix” on it? I enjoy IDW shockwave but would also be happy with TFP if you like tfp….

i would be happy to! love me some shockwave

dm me pls! 👀

#corvus answer #art commisions

[moodymisty]

Mortarion listens to Tool.

Mortarion listens to Tool and any other song with deep and complicated lyrics. Also unironically listens to Evanescence.

And if he listens to Tool, then I vote that Leman Russ listens to Powerwolf, and Ferrus listens to to the sound of dark age machinery clanking.

#reply #also of course obligatory meme answers of fulgrim listens to britney spears and corvus emo music

[jellydrawsposts]

ALSO. if you're taking reqs for corvus sketches (or at least content)

could i req corvus and opeli being the power duo they are >:3

(i miss them. s6 and s7 please give us at least one more corvus and opeli duo scene)

They are best friends me thinks

And a bonus comic I doodled at the speed of light before I had to go on a 3 hour drive

#jelly draws #the dragon prince #fanart #tdp corvus #tdp opeli #jelly answers

[ask-runaan-anything]

Idk if I've already asked this, but i have been wondering about it for ages. In a previous post you said that you were the reason Amaya thought Moonshadow elves were the worst. Can you provide a story time about what went down?

Once upon a time, I crossed the Moonstone Path as quickly and quietly as a three-eyed nightfox, for I had a mission in the human lands. As I slipped through the night in eastern Katolis, I had the misfortune to pick up a tail - an exceptionally well trained tracker.

The human followed me for miles and miles. He was nearly as agile and determined as I was. I managed to give him the slip at a river crossing, leaving him to report back to his superiors that he had failed. I took my target and returned home. I anticipated that would be the end of it.

But I was wrong.

The next time I crossed the Moonstone Path, I brought something extra, just in case, and just as well I did. The tracker was lurking nearby, hidden in the shadows of a tree, where the light of the nearly full moon would not reveal him. He dashed after me once again, and in an area where it was much harder to shake him - no forests or rivers to easily avoid his notice.

I had no time to stop for combat, though. My target on this mission was much further afield, and the full moon waits for no elf. So I deployed my distraction - an actual three-eyed nightfox, which had been comfortably asleep in my pack until I had to go waking her.

She was not pleased with me, and neither was the tracker who caught her full in his face. But they were both very well distracted, and I made my escape without (much) bloodshed. I made it to Evenere without him picking up my trail again, and once again took my target.

Turns out, that young tracker was the best that General Amaya had, and he was being ambitious in trying to halt Moonshadow assassin incursions into the human lands - but he failed. The general hoped to deploy more secret scouts once Corvus proved that he could catch himself a Moonshadow assassin. But he missed his chance.

Amaya never got her scouting program financed, leaving me free to continue my stealth missions and take my targets without her having any clear way to stop me. Surely it boiled her blood knowing that I was still coming and going in my mysterious moon ways right under her nose, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She's been an infuriating and worthy opponent, whom I hope never to meet in a fair fight.

#ask runaan #runaan answers #story time #amaya #corvus #better luck next time kid