#verse: silver twist

[mconflowermusings]

You are the worst kind of good because you aren't even great, 'cause you fight to save lives but won't kill and you don't get the job done. I need to make you learn how ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.

#char: lily luna potter #char: luke remus potter #verse: silver twist #opp: nadine summerfield

[llondonfog]

LET LIVING WEAPON SILVER AU OUT PLZZZZPLZPZLLZKZPZLZLZLZLZLZLZLZPZLZPZLZPKZPZKZLZLZPZLZLZLZLXLX

Your writing is amazing, I love ur mind. And I need more (only if u feel like it ofcrs :))))))

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH?????? i can't believe that au broke through twst containment and into the whump community, this is such an honor aisdj;fl

while i don't have a drabble queued up for the moment, i didn't want to leave you hanging after such a sweet comment so please enjoy the brief snippet below :)

He can smell them first.

The scent of man sprawls over the wind and across the hilltop, a thick miasma bloated with sweat and iron and greed. The trees themselves shiver as if to shy away from the approaching bloodlust, and there's a foreboding silence that speaks to the absence of the woodland creatures who have long since scrambled or burrowed their way to safety.

Behind the snarling, grotesque mask situated half over his face, Lilia wrinkles his nose and squeezes the leather-wrapped grip reflexively, the stench one that will follow and haunt his dreams.

In the recesses of his mind, a gentle pressure flickers in reassurance, as calm and as steady as the stars above.

There is no doubt in his mind of the outcome— as the General of the Right, the Running Rampart of the Verdurous Moor, he has not and will not fail his Queen in battle. However, his thoughts drift to the blade clutched tightly in his hand, a strength of possessiveness he never would have believed himself capable of expressing towards a mere weapon, and a realization centers itself in his mind as if it had simply always been at home there— he would not fail Silver either.

Ahead of him, the first of the soldiers breaches the forest crest, the glimmer of the moon glinting off the peak of a battle-worn helmet.

Without a second thought, he lifts the sword with ease, pressing his exposed lips to the brilliant auroral gem laid into the pommel, to the soul trapped inside.

"The Night's Blessing be upon you," he breathes, and for a moment, only a moment— a fragile, delicate drop of time— he could swear there are arms around him, lips warm and benevolent to his temple as his own words echo back to him on the breeze.

The soldiers descend.

#lettie's asks #living weapon au #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #diasomnia #lettie writes #when u have conflicting feelings about ur human turned weapon and start projecting parental concern upon it #start a riot by banners is like my go to song for this verse :')

[livingininsomnia]

“Hey there, little one,” Silver smiled, holding a finger up for the little robin. “Do you mind delivering something for me?”

It fluttered its wings and puffed up its soft chest feathers, as if to say you can rely on me!

“For my beloved,” Silver whispered.

Chirping confidently at Silver, one affectionate nuzzle later and the robin pushed off his hand to fly away with a letter in its beak.

Silver stayed in place, watching until the bird long became a speck in the sky.

#ten minute writing practice #twst ficlet #silver x reader #twisted wonderland #reader x silver #too short to be a fic really #I shall dub thee Silver & friends verse

[zibiscusloon]

🍕 Those Meddling Kids ! 🍕

👇 Headcanons for these fools 👇

Marlene “Marla” Setiawan

-The resident mom friend

-Very huggable

-Loves PDA

-She later on became the legal guardian of her younger brother Jason at age 24 after the passing of their parents

-Pansexual, cis fem, she/her

-Works as a undertaker at Hurricane Cemetery, she takes regular care of Charlie’s headstone.

Jessica Moreau

-Brains & beauty

-Frequently travels

-Works as a forensic scientist for the Hurricane Police Department (although she is often reached out to by other departments due to her stellar work)

-She & Carlton were Charlie’s best friends, she still missed Charlie to this day..

-Lesbian asexual, cis fem, she/her

Lamar Asher

-Got the hell on out of Hurricane. Smart move.

-He began work as a child therapist after moving to New Jersey. He remains in college to work towards expanding his knowledge of psychology.

-Keeps contact with all his friends despite their distance. Him and Marla keep the most in check.

-Demiromantic asexual, demiboy, he/they

Jonathan “John” Connors

-Resident sad lad

-A poet and writer in the Hurricane community

-Able to easily read the feelings of others. He’s jokingly called a aura reader by the gang.

-Had a small childhood crush on Charlie that never went anywhere due to their untimely death.

-Pansexual, cis male, he/him

Carlton Burke

-A golden retriever embodied

-Charlie, Jessica, and Michi’s best friend.

-Him and Michi are dating and live together in a small apartment

-The local homebody, he works at a grocery store as a simple calm job. He and his father frequently clash due to Carlton’s decision to not join the police force.

-Bisexual, cis male, he/him

Michael “Michi” Brooks

-Suprise! She’s alive!

-He was almost killed during his youth, as Afton had initially preyed on him as a potential target. However, he decided against that as she was frequently around her parents.

-Works as a artist for commission, frequently painting murals in honor of the missing children, including her best friend Charlie.

-Set up a scholarship in honor of the missing kids, focusing on helping students who seek out roles in education, psychology, and helping out victims of abuse.

-Demiromantic bisexual, bigender, she/he

#my art #sketch #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf au #fnaf novels #fnaf the silver eyes #fnaf the twisted ones #fnaf the fourth closet #fnaf marla #fnaf jessica #carlton burke #michael brooks #fnaf lamar #fnaf john #this is set in the game-verse which is why Michael’s here instead of Charlie #Charlie is very dead.

[emcads]

@transiente​ said:    ❝ i can be charming. i charmed you, didn’t i? ❞

❝      CHARMED IS MUCH TOO STRONG A WORD.     ❞

   ❝      you can be  ...   apt at  disrupting suspicions, let us say.     ❞    she folds up the weathered cards in her palm and stows them,  lest he be too tempted to disrupt her  over a game.  john silver is not a man she wishes to flash money around.    ❝     my answer is still no.   you are the very last person I would ask to soothe the landed gentry.     ❞

#e: charming ? no. I'M charming. don't get it twisted #transiente #✘; LETTERS ( answered ) #✘; LOOSE，CATCH THE WIND ( meme response ) #✘; VERSE: BETWEEN IRON & SILVER ( main )

[running-with-kn1ves]

Faeries and Giants

A/N: Thanks that one anon for this idea! took my own spin on it >:DD

Content Warning: Held hostage by a giant, mentioned consumption of humanoid creatures, kidnapping

Synopsis: Life isn’t all great being a faerie in a world of giants, elves and dwarves-- of which, some are keen on plucking you from the forest floor like a berry and keeping you to themselves. 

“So… delicate,” plump fingers outlined the crisp glass of your wings, their luminescence almost blinding to the giant. Your teensy, human-like frailty was some sort of evolutionary mistake-- how could you survive in these woods for so many decades, for centuries? You and your kind were mini parasites-- although delicious, and cute to play with, ultimately not meant to survive in this world where big bad wolves and giants ten times your size could pick you up like an acorn and snap you like a tall blade of grass. 

“Get your dirty paws-- OFF!” You kicked and bit with feral haste, clothes of leaf and twine breaking each time the giant poked and prodded at your pudgy, elongated features. One wrong tug and your arm or leg could come twisting off, your wings tarnished and ripped to fragments if he so pleased. 

“Settle down now, little one,” He let out a roar of a laugh, shaking down through his palms to his feet, making the earth beneath him crumble. “You’ll get hurt worming around so much!”

You shrieked at the gentle touch against your bare sole, the giant playing with your toes and fingers as he stretches and bends your limbs. 

“Please--urk, put me down! I’m not meant to be this high, I, I need to get back to the ground-- let me go!” 

“Ah, but aren’t you meant for the skies, little beast? What else are these… appendages for. Mere sparkly decoration?”

He runs a finger down the middle of your back, touching the sinewy fiber connecting translucent wings to your spine. You shivered, physically jolting at the uncomfortable, warmly touch. 

Your wings were drenched-- wrinkled and sopping from the “quick dip” the giant holding you thought would be a good idea before scooping you up like a pretty pebble. His previous…encounters with your kind must’ve prepared him well for the fluttery agility your poor wings could provide.

“Hm, do you like that?” The giant groans in heightened interest, resting his cheek in his hand as he holds you in the other. “The fairies I’ve met are far less dainty, withholding far more… animosity. Of course, they had been well-versed in magic and spells moreso than you seem to be. Far more appetizing, too. But you… you almost look like a stout sapling, useless in all endeavors besides your adorable little figure!”

….Appetizing? 

Looking to the Giant’s pocket, you can see them there….Wings, some crumped to shards, others merely bent, stuffed in his trousers with shimmering pinks and golds and blues-- cleanly picked off of whatever faerie they belonged to.

“You… they’ve been disappearing, because of you! Collecting their poor wings…You’re a monster! My friends, eaten and killed--!”

The giant brought you to his eyes for closer inspection, pools of lake green beneath his moppy silvering and unkempt hair. He observed the river of tears falling from your face, your nose dripping and stuffy as you beat against his hand. 

“Why yes! We seem to agree on something; I am a monster of the forest-- as are you, and your thieving little fellow faeries. Stealing from my livestock, shoveling everything they can find into their mouths, attempting to poison and spitroast and maim me--” He brushes a tan knuckle against your cheek, smooshing it in an attempt to wipe away your tears. “And so I eat them-- which ever ones manage to cross me, choosing to arise my wrath. It’s the circle of life, my little winged beast.” 

He chuckles at the nickname, gazing at you slumped over on the creases of his palm, calloused from a life of barreling trees and tending to his oversized farm on the outskirts of your fae hamlet.

 You were too high to jump from his palm at this height, even with his fingers no longer tightly wound around you. If you tried to fly now-- you’d be as good as dead. 

“S..so, what’re you gonna do, with me?”

You wipe away your tears, trying to see the giant clearly this time; maybe you could pinpoint a weak area of his, something to make him drop you-- it’d be better than spending eternity in his palm, or his stomach. 

“So precious… What do you think? Should I eat you?” He grins, a large straw of wheat hanging from betwixt his lips. 

You shake your head rapidly, attempting to reach for the dagger in your leather boot. 

“No, no. Of course not, I can’t rid myself of such a cute fae like you, even if I despise the rest of your species--” He delicately takes his thumb and pointer finger to your cheeks, squeezing them to puff out your lips. “I enjoy your itsy-bitsy presence too much… perhaps I’ll keep you where the birds used to lay; the cage is quite spacious, right in the kitchen. I’ll make a soft bed of chicken feathers for you, a table just big enough to do your faerie crafts and harmless little spells on.” The giant smiles softly, touching the bare of your collar uncovered by leaf and leather cloth. “I’ll bring trinkets from the valley for you to do with as you please, cook hearty meals for us to share, even let you out to be coddled and touched every now and again-- how does that sound?” 

You were quick to shake your head, tempted to stab at his palm with your dagger, but an irked expression ran across the giant’s lips as his gaze fell to the grassy plain beneath him. 

“Your friend here however, will not be staying.” He holds you tightly again-- squeezing enough to keep you in the dark of his palm. It was warm and of an earthy smell, almost too tight for your cold body. You're abruptly tucked into the giants shirt pocket, a finger over your mouth and eyes that forced you into muted darkness.

Even with your fabricated blindness, you could here the breathy grunts of a familiar voice-- unmistakably from a woodland elf, the glass-shattering vocal chords of a creature who could burst ear drums if he so desired. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a reasonable guess of which elf in particular who seemed to be fighting a mountain of a giant in your honor. An unforgettable, certainly imbecilic ignoramus elf who tailed you everywhere you went in hopes that, this time you would accept his smitten betrothal request. 

You swam against fabric tugging you downward to reach the shirt pocket’s opening, wincing as the giant holding you captive yelped out.

“Gah! he stabbed me, the little fucking imp!”

It's the first you've heard him curse with such venom, mouth curling into a snarl as he bends to pick up the wooden sword-swinging elf at his boot. 

The elf screamed out your name, trying to cut at the scarred fingers holding him hostage. You reached out to him from beneath your pocket enclosure before the giant flicked you on the head, holding your savior far out by the tips of his fingers. 

“Ah look here, your knight in shining armor… hah, too bad, he looks absolutely delectable.”

The giant’s irritation was growing by the second, keeping a hand over you in his pocket as he shakes the elf around furiously.

“No--! please don't eat him, he just-- Let us go, he has nothing to do with this!” You tug against the giant’s button up, watching your elf companion swing around his needle-like sword at the  giant holding him up by his collar. 

The giant laughed, eyes crinkling as his chiseled chest bumped against your back.

“Don't fret sweet faerie, I’m not so brutal as to consume a creature like this raw; by all means, he’s coming home with us. How long he lasts- that's up to you.”

The giant stood from his crouched position on the grassy knoll, heavy boots digging into the grass to make muddy imprints. He dangled the elf out forward, watching as the poor creature sweat bullets while looking at you helplessly.

“Let my faerie-- go!” The tiny voice felt so far away, different than the usually grating elf’s voice you were accustomed to getting frightened by.

The giant places his fingers into his shirt pocket, nudging you with them in a powerful caress. 

“You'll remain my little darling-- while our elf friend here, remains where he belongs-- in the pigpen. Together, we can find a punishment suitable for him.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. With one heavy foot in front of the other, the giant started toward a thatched roof cabin in the grassy distance. 

#knives rants #kn1ves rants #writing #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #self insert #fairy #fae #faerie #fae folk #fae x reader #giant x reader #gender neutral reader #x female reader #x male reader #male love interest #monster design #monsterfucker #teratophillia #monster romance #terato #monster lover #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere #giant monster #giant men #giant

[keerysfreckles]

OKAY BUUT IF ITS NOT TO MUCH CAN U DO A LUKE CASTELLAN X APOLLO READER AND LIKE IF U EVER HEARD pure as the driven snow (hunger games song) I CAN TOTALLY SEE APOLLO READER SINGING THIS TO HIM INFRONT OF PEOPLE

(Sorry for typing in caps I got excited 😰 but it’s okay if u don’t this request 🫶🫶🫶)

mamma mia — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: i did twist this request only with the song, i used lay all your love on me by abba :) i hope you still like it!

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

saturday's were y/n's favorite day. not only because it was a free day throughout the whole camp, but also because of the apollo singalong at the bonfire.

every weekend a camper or two from apollo's cabin would take turns performing to start off the night. this weekend it was y/n's turn.

herself, and her two closest friends from the cabin were all getting ready. abigail, a tall brunette, was wearing a blue and purple 70s inspired jumpsuit. they were flared at the bottom of the legs and elbows of the sleeves. she finished the look with her hair straightened with a matching purple scarf acting as a headband.

stephanie, a shorter blonde, was wearing a green and silver two piece 70s set. it was a halter styled top, paired with bell bottom pants. she wore the same white boots abigail had, and had her platinum blonde hair in a ponytail, with her bangs covering her forehead.

stephanie and abigail were currently setting up their mini stage for their performance. the other campers were starting to file in the area, filling the empty seats of the amphitheatre fairly quickly. stephanie noticed hermes' cabin was front and center. both girls knew y/n would love the fact her boyfriend was right in front of the stage.

abigail and stephanie finished setting the stage, and went to get y/n from the cabin as chiron and mr. d started to announce tonight's events.

"will you hurry up? lover boy is out there waiting," stephanie walks into the cabin, before looking over her outfit once more in the mirror.

"what steph means to say, is the stage is set, and camp is waiting for you," abigail stands behind y/n at the shared vanity, and places her hands on her shoulders.

y/n continues fiddling with her hair, which was teased slightly, with a white headband, with a few front pieces framing her face. she had a similar 70s inspired outfit like abigails. hers was pink and orange, and the top was cropped. her bottoms were the same colors and they had five layers of ruffles adorning the bottom. of course, she had matching white boots just like her sisters.

"what if i mess up?" y/n asks no one in particular.

abigail continues rubbing her shoulders, "you've never messed up one of our performances, why is this one so different?"

y/n shrugs, "maybe the fact luke and i are dating now? and i guess i still want to impress him."

"he's impressed with anything you do," stephanie speaks up from the other side of the cabin, "this can just be another thing he brags about to his friends. how cool his girlfriend, and her friends, are."

y/n stands from the vanity, and simply holds her arms out, "group hug before we go out there."

stephanie and abigail happily oblige before the trio start walking towards the amphitheatre. the three girls grab their matching white microphones and get into their very stereotypical stances on stage, just as chiron finishes his speech.

the music starts, which makes all the campers quit their side conversations.

abigail, y/n and stephanie who were in a line, were now in a triangle, as abigail starts singing.

"i wasn't jealous before we met. now every woman i see is a potential threat. and i'm possessive it isn't nice. you've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice."

abigail continues to sing the second verse, when y/n takes the center of the stage as abigail and stephanie stand behind her.

"don't go wasting your emotion, lay all your love on me."

as soon as y/n met luke's eyes as she sang her line, she could've sworn she saw hearts in his eyes.

stephanie sang the next two verses, as y/n and abigail had choreography while they were behind the blonde.

y/n moved to the middle again, and the trio all began dancing with the same choreography. she started singing thr chorus again.

"don't go wasting your emotion, lay all your love on me. don't go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me."

the campers had started clapping along and moving to the rhythm of the song, as the girls on stage sang another verse and the chorus a few more times.

as the song came to a close, y/n brought both of her friends into a hug, before chiron instructed for the ares cabin to gather the firewood for the bonfire.

y/n was talking with abigail and stephanie on stage, and shrieked when she felt a pair of arms pick her up and spin her around. her feet land on the marble ground instead of the stage. she turns in the stranger's arms and her smile grows once she sees luke.

"you look like you walked right out of an abba music video," he laughs.

"that was kinda the point babe," she leans up and kisses his cheek. "did you like the song?"

luke nods quickly, "you all were amazing, but you," he paused to kiss y/n's forehead, "i couldn't keep my eyes of you."

"it was meant for you, if you couldn't put that together," y/n giggles.

"oh i was hoping it was meant for me. if it was for any other camper i wouldn't hesitate to share a few words with you missy," he tries to sound affirmative with y/n, but it only makes the girl laugh more. the couple and the rest of the campers who were standing were all instructed to sit by chiron, as the ares' kids all came back with firewood.

luke kissed y/n's cheek once more before he dragged her to sit with him for the rest of the night.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x fem reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv #pjo show #pjo tv show #percy jackson #percy jackson series #percy jackson show #percy jackson tv show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians show

[blues824]

Would it be okay for me to drop this request here, for Twisted Wonderland only the Diasomia guys (and staff only if your interested in them) with either an s/o or student who is a dragon rider like in How to Train Your Dragon, like they can be tough like Astrid, but love befriending and learning a lot about dragons?

(Just the thought of Malleus being happy with a Nightfury buddy is just adorable to me, and Lilia wanting to babysit the baby dragons is what mainly motivated this request)

I think I’m just going to do Diasomnia for this one

Gender-neutral reader who is like Astrid, but has Toothless as a dragon.

Malleus Draconia

You had met at Ramshackle, but he noticed that you were wrestling with something. Turns out, you had a dragon, and it sensed another dragon in the premises. He walked up and introduced himself, as he wasn’t aware that someone had taken up residence at Ramshackle. Unfortunately, he startled you, and you unsheathed your axe, ready to attack.

However, Toothless walked over carefully and started sniffing the prince, surprising you. He actually pushed you over and placed his head in the stranger’s lap, tail wagging and everything with a gummy smile to accompany it. Malleus laughed at the whole situation, patting the top of the dragon’s head as he asked if you were alright.

That was the start of a very peculiar friendship and even relationship, though, because your dragon became his best friend. When learning to care for Toothless, he learned about the Island of Berk, which was where you both hailed from. You also said that you aspired to be a great warrior, which he thought was similar to the dreams of a certain green-haired retainer that he had.

Seeing you ride Toothless was the first time he saw a genuine smile on your face. You looked radiant with the wind blowing in your face, doing many different tricks in the air with your dragon. He would actually shift into a dragon himself sometimes and he would fly with you two. The first time you rode him, however, it was so intimate. Your experience as a dragon trainer came in handy a bit, but other than posture, you didn’t really need it. It was free and unrehearsed, but it was fun.

Lilia Vanrouge

Alright, he admits that his introduction was rather abrupt, considering he kind of just popped onto Ramshackle because he heard some dragon noises. Spooking you so that he had the element of surprise, he was not expecting to be held at axe-point as you and your dragon both snarled at him.

Your dragon, who he came to know as ‘Toothless’, started sniffing him and he realized that he was not an enemy. You were not as easily convinced and kept your guard up, but you put the axe away. Lilia is not one to keep a grudge, so he just giggled it off as the dragon rubbed up against him like a cat.

He already had experience with dragons, considering he watched over Malleus while he was just a hatchling. He knew all the soft spots, he knew all the snacks typically required, he even knew cue words. However, he had never ridden a dragon. Seeing you do it so elegantly was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and he wished he could see you that happy every day.

The first time he actually rode Toothless, though, it wasn’t as difficult as he thought it was going to be. Establishing trust first with a rather fishy offering (it was an actual fish), he mounted it, and Toothless got very excited and started prancing about. The old fae was having the time of his life as the spirited dragon glided through the air, maneuvering quickly unlike any other being he’s ever seen.

Silver

Because you had already met Malleus and Lilia, they thought it was time to introduce him to Toothless so that he may be well-versed in every animal. Because a lot of woodland creatures were attracted to his presence, the dragon wasn’t very different. Luckily, you knew that Silver was going to be there, so you didn’t have your guard up. However, you panicked when Sebek freaked out because Toothless went on the defensive.

Anyway, the older knight got along well with your companion, even giving the gummy-smiled reptile a few scratches here and there. That’s when he noticed the axe strapped to your back, and he asked about it. You informed him that you were a viking warrior from an island called ‘Berk’, where dragons had become very common, but Nightfuries were not.

This called for a training session between you and him, as he wanted to see the difference in fighting tactics. What he learned was that while you had a good plan, you were very spontaneous and unpredictable, a strategy he found admirable. You became an official guard of Malleus because you managed to throw his father off as well, and you managed to surprise him with your skill.

As for his first time riding Toothless, he does get why you love it so much. The view of the school from above as well as the wind flowing through his hair made him smile. However, he was not able to stay awake for long due to his condition. Knowing this might happen, he wrapped his arms around your torso so he wouldn’t fall off. The feeling of his arms made you flustered, but you kept your concentration.

Sebek Zigvolt

He was also there to be introduced to Toothless, the only other dragon at NRC aside from Malleus. He was going to scold you for stripping away Waka-sama’s uniqueness, but he was startled by your dragon. You had to help him calm down because he was about to get his ass beat by a disabled dragon.

Once he was stable enough to be introduced, Toothless was still wary of him. Sebek’s face flushed red as you placed your hand on top of his, holding it out so that the oversized lizard could meet him halfway. The smile on the knight’s face when he felt the dragon’s nose was beaming bright, showing you the man’s fangs.

Sebek also noticed your axe, and he definitely inquired about it, making sure you were going to be no harm to Malleus. You explained that you were a viking warrior back in your world, and that you fought to die in battle, as was the viking way to get to Valhalla. As a knight himself, he found that respectable, and even offered to help you train so that your skills wouldn’t get rusty. However, that training session ended in you even getting the best of Lilia, meaning you became a guard that day.

When he rides Toothless for the first time, he is nervous that he is going to mess everything up and manage to get you hurt in the process. However, you shut him up with a kiss to the cheek as you mounted the Nightfury, tapping the seat behind you. He mounted as well, face painted red, as you took to the sky.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #diasomnia x reader #diasomnia #malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus draconia #twst malleus x reader #lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #twst lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #silver vanrouge #twst silver x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #silver #silver vanrouge x reader

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#ask me stuff #soldier boy #Imagine Ben losing you #angst to the max #hurt/comfort #Soldier Boy imagine #soft!Ben #BMD verse #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #Break Me Down verse #zepskies answers

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

15 Beautiful Lover-to-Enemies Dialogue Prompts | Betrayal Prompts

"Do you remember the vows we made under the moon's gentle glow? How quickly they turned to ash, scattered by the winds of deceit."

"Your words were once my solace, but now they cut deeper than any blade forged in malice."

"In the labyrinth of our love, I found myself lost, only to realize you were the minotaur lurking in the shadows."

"Every kiss we shared was a dagger coated in honey, sweet yet deadly."

"The stars witnessed our passion, but they now mock our folly as we stand on opposite sides of a war we ourselves ignited."

"Our hearts beat as one, once upon a time. Now they drum the rhythm of discord and resentment."

"I thought I knew the depths of your soul, only to find abysses of betrayal waiting to devour me whole."

"Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I emerge from the ruins of our love, reborn as your adversary."

"You were the melody to my symphony, but now your discordant notes shatter the harmony we once shared."

"We danced on the edge of oblivion, oblivious to the precipice that awaited our descent into enmity."

"The echoes of our laughter haunt me, mocking the innocence we thought would shield us from the venom of betrayal."

"Our love was a tapestry woven with threads of gold, now unraveling into a tangled web of lies and deception."

"I offered you my heart on a silver platter, only for you to feast upon it with the appetite of a ravenous beast."

"We were poets of passion, crafting verses of devotion with every whispered promise. Now our words are weapons, dripping with venomous intent."

"The sunrise that once painted our love with hues of warmth and hope now heralds the dawn of our animosity, casting long shadows of regret across the battlefield of our hearts."

Short Note From Me!

Many fans of Enemies to Lovers often overlook the possibility of exploring Lover to Enemies. This underrated trope is one of my favorites and I believe it has the potential to make a novel truly stand out. If you have space in your story for this unique twist, I assure you it will result in an amazing read.

I created these dialogue prompts to inspire writers to explore the theme of lovers turning into enemies, showcasing a different form of betrayal.

Happy writing - Rin T.

#writeblr #writing tips #creative writing #thewriteadviceforwriters #on writing #writers block #writing #how to write #writers and poets #dark fantasy #fantasy #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #creative writing prompts #story prompts #writing prompts #witch prompts #journal prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompt #dialogue prompt #authorsofinstagram #writer #author #writerscommunity #authors on tumblr #betrayal

[llondonfog]

⚔ living weapon verse ⚔ | a friend and i have been tossing around an au where silver is a literal "living weapon"— he's been transformed into a sword due to being cursed by maleficent and forced to serve the many fae generals throughout the centuries who wield him. eventually, time finds him in the hands of the most recent general of the right, a certain lilia vanrouge :) there's so much more to this au and i hope that i can express more of it through upcoming drabbles. but in the meantime please enjoy this snippet below! <3

The water in the basin almost instantaneously rusts into an ugly, mottled brown, the kind of stinking, brackish water that Silver has only seen in the most polluted of swamps. It makes sense, he supposes, twitching his fingers idly beneath the surface to watch the resulting eddies with a glazed stare— he is a tool of and for destruction. There is nothing that remains sacred and innocent for something like him, not even the bathwater warm like a hearth against his phantom, aching bones. 

A clawed hand takes his chin and grips it firmly, the pressure a welcome distraction from the encroaching abyss sinking its poisonous tendrils into his mind. He allows it to guide him, unable to resist even if he wished, and it tilts his head up until his dulled gaze meets blazing crimson, the sight stirring a long-dead emotion in his still and silent heart. “Focus,” the general murmurs, and the order is a kindness, a mercy he knows he does not deserve. “Eyes on me.”

These simple, straightforward commands are part of their ritual, and Silver clings to them like the last anchor in a tempest-tossed sea. His handler’s hold on his chin lingers a moment longer, the fae eyeing him impassively to ensure his compliance as if it were possible for Silver to disobey, before removing itself to reach for the damp rag draped along the basin’s side. Silver mourns its loss like a child yearning for a comfort toy, but his features do not betray his thoughts. They do not betray much of anything at all, the need to emote drilled out of him from centuries of cruelty and callous objectification. After all, what does a sword need a smile for, what use is a blade that weeps?

Instead, he centers himself along the pain, one of the only constants he’s come to know as intimately as any true love. His handler is quick, another one of those unnecessary mercies, but thorough— the rag glides along his bruised and blood-stained skin, sweeping away the gory evidence of mere hours ago. Idly, Silver wonders if it would truly be so easy to wipe away the memories. To cleanse what is so ingrained within him: the dying wails of his own kind, the wet heat as he slices through their flesh and beating veins, the fear wide and white in their eyes. 

“Silver.”

His head snaps up, a dull burn of shame creeping beneath his skin as the fear of disappointing the fae, a compelling need sewn viciously into the very nature of his being as part of Maleficent's curse, floods his mind.

The general has paused in his ministrations, for how long Silver does not know, and instead is crouched by the basin’s side with an inscrutable expression on those delicate features. Without a word, he reaches out, and Silver’s eyes all but close as a passive tranquility spreads like treacle through his trembling limbs at the touch of those warm fingertips against the curse mark branded along the back of his neck. His handler need not look to find the recent addition of the bat flitting above the floral-wreathed sword emblazoned on Silver’s skin, and he feels the tips of those claws press lightly against it— he’s never heard of a curse mark changing over time, and he cannot forget the strange flash of possessiveness that flickered through the general’s eyes at the sight before being smoothly buried under his usual narrowed gaze. 

He cannot forget the odd churning of his heart when he first caught sight of it in the broken mirror hanging in the general’s tent. 

“Silver,” the general repeats, and Silver flushes at having drifted off once again. But instead, the fae brushes his thumb over the length of the curse mark, from the nape of his neck to the top of his spine, and stares at him like he’s something deserving of tenderness. 

“You did well today, boy. Rest now,” his handler’s hand shifts forward to cover his eyes, the darkness beneath his palm warm and inviting and nothing like the cold and miserable nothingness that Silver returns to when he’s outperformed his usefulness. Another kindness, for swords do not sleep, or eat, or drink— his body, what little humanity it has retained, no longer is tethered to such mortal requirements. But his general has given him an order, and a good weapon obeys the will of its handler. 

Silver sleeps— swords do not dream, but what else could it be, when he feels the ghost of lips brushing against his forehead?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #diasomnia #lettie writes #living weapon au #ahhhhhhhhhh i wrote this super quick before i board my plane #so i hope it isn't too scattered #but i really adore this au and i hope you guys like it too!! #please give silver some love :( he's really been through it in this verse

[livingininsomnia]

He is a knight, in a court full of Fae, but he is not your knight

“Darling,” he calls you, his voice the sweetest poison you will ever take.

The garden, once one of simple rose beds, now crawls with hanging roses, archways filled to the brim with not a hint of the wooden structures to be seen beneath those tangled thorns.

Any more, and it will swallow the garden whole.

His smile is star-bright, and his hair shines under the moonlight. You wish you’d known, before you’d fallen under this spell, what your love would wrought.

“My love,” you respond, those thorns growing and choking with each passing night.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks with gentle adoration, fingers trailing along the nape of your neck.

“I can’t remember what I did yesterday,” you say distantly, a plea and a response, a helpless prayer you make every day and night.

And he shows his cruelty, which you once mistook for kindness.

“Shall I watch over you tonight?” He says with a slow delight, the same response he gives every time.

His arms, which you once took as a haven, cage you in as he sweeps you into a waltz under the moonlight.

#silver x reader #twst fic #twisted wonderland #wtf is this? idk #Fae silver! let’s do our best #reader x silver #yandere silver #twisted wonderland fanfic #ficlet #twst #I shall name this #hanging rose verse #weirdly disjointed because I was writing poetry five minutes ago 😂

[jazjelspen]

jazjel’s masterlist

everything written by jazjel and their pen so far!

about the author

[P.S!!!! If there’s a series that you want to keep in touch with and know when each part comes out, please let me know in messages or in the comments that you want to be tagged!

You will only be tagged once, unless specified that you want to be tagged in all upcoming parts of a particular series.]

[currently not taking requests right now, will open very soon tho! >.<]

CHAPTER 1: Twisted Wonderland

CHAPTER 2: Spider-verse (ATSV)

CHAPTER 3: Hazbin Hotel

CHAPTER 4: PERSONA 5: Royal (pending..)

CHAPTER 5:

——————————————————

bonus: original works/ocs

artwall: personal drawings!

———————————————————

[CHAPTER 1]

Twisted Wonderland

“we’ll show you a real happy ending.”

-Heartslabyul(none yet)

-Savannaclaw(none yet)

-Octovinelle(none yet)

-Scarabia(none yet)

-Pomefiore(none yet)

-Ignihyde

and so they lived happily ever after(idia)

-Diasomnia

breaking up with the prince of briar valley(malleus)

the world we knew(malleus)

————————————-

series/various

leaving on wild charted waters (story/various) (songs recommended to listen for this series: White Tea - Rozie Ramati, Ex-Girlfriend - No Doubt)

-part 1

-part 2

-part 3

-part 4

-part 5

-part 6

-part 7

-…….

-…….

-…….

the domestic life (various)

-part 1

-part 2

——————————————-

[CHAPTER 2]

SPIDER-VERSE

“anyone can be under the mask.”

-miles morales(not yet)

-gwen stacey(not yet)

-hobie brown(not yet)

-pavitr prabhakar(not yet)

-miguel o’hara

amor eterno (daughter reader/series)

amor eterno [parte 2](daughter reader/series)

—————————————————

[CHAPTER 3]

HAZBIN HOTEL

“now that’s the spirit! you’re in hell you delinquent fuck!”

-charlie morningstar(not yet) -vaggie(not yet) -angel dust(not yet) -husk(not yet) -nifty(not yet)(will mostly be platonic) -alastor when memories snow (x overlord reader)

devil’s spawn (angel alastor/radio demon daughter reader platonic) -sir pentious(not yet) -vox(not yet) -lucifer morningstar(not yet)

----------------------------------------------

series/various

my angel baby

-part 1

-part 2

-part 3

-part 4

-part 5

-part 6

……

……

……

scarlet and silver lining(story)

-epilogue

-part 1

-…

--------------------------------------------------------

original works/ocs

twst oc: Evan Bleu: a normal day for the blue fairy

artwall

my angel baby: author’s interpretation

my angel baby: school drabbles

#masterlist #writing #writing masterlist #fanfic masterlist #twisted wonderland #atsv #across the spiderverse #fanfic writer #fic writing #original writing #headcanons #imagines #scenarios #spiderverse #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #hellaverse

[yuurei20]

Concerning light and dark magic, has there really been like a significant difference between the two? Like does dark magic have certain benefits and vice versa for light? How about weaknesses? Or is it just a visual indicator for who is twisted from the "bad" or "good"? Sorry if these questions are confusing in any way and thank you if you do answer!

Hello hello!! Thank you for this question!

As of this point in the game, I am not sure if it is an indicator of anything at all! :> (Not to say that there is no symbolism happening! Just that the details have yet to be revealed, so we do not know what it might mean.)

There are various rumors as to what the different magics may represent, mostly based around who was twisted from who (as you say!), but from what I can tell they are still fan theories!

Things are complicated by how they are not always only one-to-one recreations of other characters: Jamil seems to have various elements from Aladdin and/or Jasmine, for example, while Kalim seems to have a curious amount of influence from the lead character in "Sinbad's Storybook Adventure' (a ride exclusive to Tokyo Disney Sea that technically qualifies Sinbad as a Disney character).

And we might be seeing this theme re-establishing itself in real time via the Platinum Jacket series (card groovies under the cut)!

The expressions of the characters in the Platinum series might be most charitably described as "devious," from Jamil to Jack, with (thus far) one exception:

It is exciting to think about what Silver and Kalim's cards might look like!

As for card strengths, I am really not at all knowledgeable about battles and things, so I referenced a variety of different card rankings to see if there seems to be any preference for light magic over dark magic or vice verse.

Many people recommend Epel's Applepom as one of the stronger cards in the game, but I have seen many comments that he was recently dethroned by Kalim's Playfulland card.

Dorm-Malleus also gets referenced as one of the stronger cosmic-cards, but so does Dorm-Kalim!

This is further complicated by how different cards can become stronger than others depending upon how they are leveled, what other cards they are paired with, how much the buddy levels between those cards have been leveled, etc.

I have heard from meta players that the balances of the cards in Twst are well curated when compared to other games (SSRs are a plus but not a requirement to go through the story, for example), so I think it is safe to say that there might not be any major imbalances between dark and light magics at this time! :>

#twstask

[maryhale1]

In my Kitchen I brew potions

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Beneath the crescent moon's soft glow,

In a cauldron, secrets start to grow.

Gathered herbs, by starlight blessed,

A witches' potion, power manifest.

Stirring clockwise with a silver spoon,

Chanting verses, an ancient rune.

Mystic vapors rise and twist,

Creating spells in the alchemist's tryst.

Eye of newt and wing of bat,

In the brew, where spells are at.

Essence of midnight, essence of dawn,

In the cauldron, magic is drawn.

Whispers of the enchanted breeze,

Echo through the ancient trees.

Bubbling, simmering, the potion's embrace,

A concoction of enchantment takes its place.

Beware the brew of sorcery's might,

Crafted under the pale moonlight.

A witches' potion, a potion so bold,

A tale in the cauldron forever told.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

#witchcraft #dark academia #witchblr #witches #witchy #witch aesthetic #witch #witch community #witchcore #green witch #witchy poem #potions #potion brewing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #witches poem #goddess poem #hecate goddess #poems on tumblr #poetry #poets on tumblr #author life #authors #kitchen witch #whimsical #cauldron #dark feminine energy #dark femininity #witch coven

[jessaerys]

(kind of a long-ish excerpt -- i've been twisting myself into pretzels about posting fic for the first time in years and driving myself crazy about it, so i figured it'd do me good to do a teeny tiny soft launch to demystify the whole thing. as a treat thoughts appreciated :') title may change, we'll see.) texas sharpshooter fallacy flirt mello/near | T (excerpt) | 700ish words | canon compliant.

near knocks.

his idea of inconspicuous is a sharp black coat and matching slacks and aviators now high up and glossy on his head. he knocks, and stands there in the fluorescent headache hallway where he can hear mello’s neighbors two doors over fucking to industrial EDM, their bed and their heads shrieking. as if the shock of white hair and vermeer eyes and his pretty babydoll mouth wouldn’t turn heads from harlem to chinatown. he has to laugh.

the 6th floor hallway is carpeted in cigarette butts and shards of glass and piss and misery, rock-bottom regret, apathy of the take-a-walk-out-of-the-roof variety. the wallpaper is an eyesore from the 70s and the ceilings are crazy cracked. taking the lift is a game of russian roulette. more than one person has died in this floor alone. he knows because it was his finger on the trigger, and fuck, he hasn't bothered to scrub out the stains. the grifters, the killers, the whores: everyone here —everyone— has been forsaken by god.

and near is alone.

for a brief, ridiculous moment mello is fourteen again, filled with a gleeful kind of malice, hoping the crackheads across the hall walk out and see near in all of his freakish man-in-black, little gray alien glory. catnip for psychosis, and right on the money to boot. if mello squints just so, it looks as if near is trapped inside the fishbowl marble universe of his peephole.

“in military strategy,” near says, his voice a tuning silver fork that makes the hair on the back of mello’s head stand on end. it is deeper. more elegant. mello had noticed, earlier, when they’d been strangers in the same room with nothing in common but the race for kira’s head and five years worth of resentment. “to refuse diplomatic entrance to one’s territory would be considered a declaration of war.”

“we already accepted jesus into our hearts.”

inside his grimy spaceship, the corner of near’s mouth quirks for a flash of a kodak moment and then it is gone. glitch in the matrix. mello’s wolfteeth grin knocks painfully into the aluminum.

“and didn’t the lord say offer hospitality to one another without grumbling?”

1 peter 4:9. the verse just before reads: above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

"nothing a couple dozen hail marys won't fix."

above them something shatters against the floor. a woman screams. a weight falls heavy on the floor and then there is silence. the ceiling snows dirty dust all over near’s shoulders like so much winter wonderland. the lights flicker and flicker.

neither of them say anything. mello watches. he can’t see you, he tells himself, feeling like the world's best and brightest buffoon. he's not fucking godtouched.

but near raises a hand to his rosy cherubim face, makes a circle with his thumb and index finger to squint through with one big ophanim eye.

watches the watcher.

“i will wait for sixty seconds.”

mello finds his gun. sticks it in the back of his pants. runs his hands through his hair. pulls his gun out, checks the mag. pops it in place. hesitates. checks it again. he was right the first time. it is empty. thirty eight, thirty seven.

L used to say, it’s a boundary, mello. explicit verbal communication of where the limits are. respecting it preserves the peace. you can choose to ignore it, but you should first know why. and you should be ready for the inevitable outcome.

but what this really is is this: near coming to him alone under cover of night, so naïve he might as well be wearing a neon sign that says mug me or kidnap me or worse! i'm a stupid little boy!; as far he can be from the safety of his prince’s tower all to give little old mello the pleasure a fucking ultimatum.

his blood simmers. his ears ring. his sympathetic nervous system betrays him only ever around near, and near's little sycophant butlers could be just out of sight. he could be here with a swat team and a warrant for his arrest. he could be here to let mello know he has once again taken from him the only thing that's ever made any damn sense in his life.

he tries to breathe through it. tries to weight his options. he tries to be more like L.

he fails.

four, three, two—

near turns to leave.

mello opens the door.

.

.

.

#death note #meronia #mihael keehl #nate river #allegedly writing