I WAS SOLD TO NIGHT RAVEN?!?!?
where your crow-like father sells you to the most eligible group of young men in twisted wonderland
~feat. vil schoenheit, rook hunt, epel felmier, deuce spade, ace trappola, kalim al-asim, and jamil viper~ vdc group!!
twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader
warnings: mentions of alcohol, gambling, toxic parental relationships, ooc, crowley is a dad. literally nothing in this is canon
i hope u know where this is going
"Oh, and by the way, I'm selling you for one madol."
"What—?"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
CRASH!!!
In what seemed like an instant, the door to the place you regrettably called "home" was blasted off of its hinges with a resounding collision, stray particles of dust beginning to scratch the air with each spec and what had looked to you like... the silhouettes of seven young men—?
You should have known this would've happened eventually.
Time and time again, your raven-haired father would return home, the putrid stenches of a long night spent mindlessly drinking staining the wrinkles in his clothes, as a loud clamoring of your already shattering door screeched throughout the barren walls of your home. Life was terrible. Absolutely terrible. And your so-called father's gambling obsession along with the debts he'd built up were terrible, too.
Some kind of father you are, Crowley, you furiously thought. You couldn't stand it anymore. Your gender neutral girlbossness was just to good for this crow.
Although, that fury you constantly felt would never match the absolute rage within the irises of your eyes when you spotted your father standing beside the closed doors of your home minutes before the (literal) destruction, luggage that looked eerily similar to yours placed adjacent to him in a messily put-together pile.
"Oh, look! They're all here already~" the pompous man sang as he turned to face the clearing shadows of the people in front of the both of you. You couldn't believe what he had just said. Your mouth hung open in shock confusion as the blaring light from outside bled into the house as your father grinned at the sizable cracks and hole where your door should have been.
Wait.
Was that a cauldron wedged into the other side of your house?
"Welcome!" Crowley practically shouted with his a-little-too-cheery voice, escorting a group of young men into what was left of your home. "How are you gentlemen doing today? Perfect weather for selling your own child to a bunch of random strangers, hm? Yes, yes! I knew you would get it! Anyway, here's what you all ordered," the man said leaving no room for any voice to reply as he harshly shoved you into the arms of one of the men who had extremely long, flowing hair of dark chocolate brown that made your orbs dilate as you shyly blushed an embarrassing red at the contact.
"Oh, I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry," you stuttered.
The man dryly looked your way, unfazed, "You're fine. Just don't do it again. I get enough to deal with from Kalim and I'm in no need for more."
Bro was so in love with you.
"Now, Jamil we may be purchasing this peculiar individual, but let's not all be too curt, hm~?" another man with short blonde hair cut into the space separating you from the group of men. He seemed very eccentric as he proceeded to adjust the fluffy feather of his hat above his head.
"Tell that to Deuce," a boy with a cute red heart covering his left eye said glaring at his friend beside him, "He's the one that literally blew up the damn house just now."
The boy who you assumed to be Deuce glared back at his friend (?) "I did not blow it up. You're the one that told me to use the cauldron."
"And you're the one who actually used it. Dumbass."
"OH YOU—"
"Now, boys, no fighting here." Just as you thought no more men could interject this strange conversation, another man—who was rather glamorous, at that—pushed past the fighting friends as he stopped whatever chaos would erupt if he did not. "It's uncouth and will ruin the eyeliner I oh-so-kindly put on you all. Don't waste my hardly spent time."
"It wuhz mor' of auh' waste of our time, though, but we'll let yuh gaslight yuhself, Vil..." you caught the sighs of a smaller lavender-haired boy whisper under his breath.
Vil slowly turned to the smaller boy, a dark aura cursing the faker-than-Barbie smile on the beautiful man's face, "What was that Epel? I believe you had something to say. Please do enlighten us and see the consequences they may lead to."
Homie had the eyes of a murderer.
"N-nothing..." Epel regrettably replied. There was no way he could make it out of this alive. Maybe he should just sell himself to a random group of strangers like you did. Farmboy made you his idol.
"On another note," Vil said as he returned back to his stern manner, "the box for you is ready as well as the movers we hired of you."
You curiously looked at the man, "Movers? How much of my personal belongings are we taking?"
"Personal belongings? Oh, dear burnt potato, the box is for you. The movers will pick you up and drive behind us back to our home. Oh, but not to worry, they'll wrap you up in plenty of bubble wrap, so hopefully no damage will come to you."
"You're packing me in a cardboard box—??????"
"We're packing you in a cardboard box," all seven of the men dryly answered.
Damn. Capitalism popped off again ig.
a/n: ahem-
MWAHAHAHA APRIL FOOLS MY SKRUNKLES-
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