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#The Knight of Dawn
flowerofthemoonworld · 8 months
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Twisted wonderland spoilers
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hanafubukki · 8 months
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You must have really ticked off someone in your past life.
There was no other explanation.
Because how else would you explain your current situation?
Not only had you somehow ended up in the past, which your mind was still trying to make sense.
The past, not a dream, but the past.
You stared at the person in front of you before looking towards your hands.
If it was anyone else, you would have an inkling of how to deal with them.
General Lilia, done, been there and survived his dream self and know his future cute self very well.
Baul Zigvolt…you would eventually wear him down like you did his grandson.
Hell even with Meleanor Draconia, you would somehow be able to deal with her. If dealing with Malleus and Lilia’s dream world gave any indication.
But this…
A glass came into view.
“Here, have some water.”
You numbly took the glass that was offered to you, barely glancing up.
You took a sip and the man in front of you nodded his head in that oh so familiar manner that almost had you choking on water. It made your heart ache at the familiar actions.
He turned back around to talk to his colleague.
This man?
Well, he was the Knight of Dawn of course.
…of course.
You were fucking screwed.
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Part 2 and Part 3 (each part takes place after some time has passed) or can be read as a stand-alone.
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twstjam · 7 months
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2 am seems to be my go-to shitpost time
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llondonfog · 3 months
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For a painful soulamte au, what if the Dawn Knight was Lilias soulmate? And to make it more painful what if Dawn knew that Lilia was his soulmate somehow and still went to war with the fae because he couldn't stand to go against the family who raised him
Not a soul knew, except for Leia.
Leia knew because she knew everything about him— the leash of loyalty around his neck, the weight of despair upon his shoulders, the mark of his soulmate tattooed like a harbinger on the inside of his wrist.
Leia knew, and loved him for it all the same.
You are a knight, she would remind him on those moonless nights, delicate features as solemn as a saint as she laid her hands against the haunted hollows of his face, as merciful and sweet as her namesake. You are the only one out of them all who has the right to call himself so. What greater sacrifice have you given to my father, to our family, than the cost of love?
He loved her, too.
Her effortless charm and wit were always happy to fill his awkward and stoic silences, and she never shamed him for his reserved nature. She was a princess, born and raised to be a queen, and it sat right inside his heart that she should realize such a vision. Her kindness to their people, her kindness to her traitor of a knight— too kind, to allow him even into her arms and bed when his nerves fail him and the shadows creep in.
It's what he feels, when he places his hand on the swell of her gown, the gentle life growing inside of her: their child, steeped in kindness.
A tragic beginning that can only lead to a tragic end.
Leia is the only kindness that he's ever known, and the irony is not lost on him that she is not his soulmate, nor is he her own. She does not speak of the mark blurred and faded on her skin, and she does not press him for explanation when he disrobes for her and only her, and the bat in flight unfurls its wings upon his wrist.
She does not need to, for they both know whose standard he bears, whose symbol lays a claim that would spell betrayal and doom for his fate.
He lies there within the shelter of her embrace, her slim fingers weaving through his golden hair, and he wonders what manner of mark lies on the fae general's wrist. He wonders if it is of a gleaming sword raised to strike, or a loathsome owl, talons curled, both prepared to rid the fae of his heart and gift it to the enemy's feet. It must not be obvious, because the fae has never reacted to his presence beyond the expected vitriol to their immoral crusade. And each time that they meet, the gratitude of a coward lances through his veins for the sake of the helmet obscuring his expression— it is your eyes that give you away, Leia had murmured to him, her own dark and forgiving as they glitter in the candlelight. Your truest emotions lie within them, crystal clear and as unclouded as the brightest dawn.
He does not deserve her unshakeable belief, for he feels like the muddiest of waters, choked with debris and tainted by waste.
He does not deserve her, and as he clutches at his wrist in the night, nails all but digging into the taut flesh as if to pull the bat from his skin—
He knows that he does not deserve the general either.
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nymphilily · 21 days
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"The Knight Of Dawn being a near exact copy of Silver is lazy!" You absolutely think the curtains are just blue, don't you?
#Y'all are free to call me crazy BUT#If Yana went out of her way to design KoD to be an exact replica of his son when that isn't the case for ANY OTHER Parent-Child Pair#Don't you think that was intentional?#If they are the only odd pair out don't you think that means something? Or are the curtain's just blue to you?#TKoD is an antithesis to Silver. He is everything Silver could/would have been had he not been put to sleep and adopted by Lilia#THAT is why TKoD is Silver but with longer blonder hair. Because he's supposed to be an undesirable outcome for Silver#A dog forever chained to his master's side without the courage to act on his own sense of what's right and wrong#Only when he isn't under the eyes of those he owes his life to and hold that above his head the does TKoD do what he knows is right#He lets Lilia escape with Malleus during his fight with Meleanor. In the middle of battle he gives the innocence a chance for life#And he's only allowed to do so because Henrik isn't there to interfere. Because for once he can act on his own morals and help someone#So when we see the Knight of Dawn next to Silver we aren't supposed to see a father and his son#We're supposed to see what Silver COULD have been had he not been raised by Lilia. Had he been raised to be a tool instead of an individual#A right his biological father was never able to obtain for himself#I guess this is the hill I'm dying on now. Yippee#TWST Knight of Dawn#The Knight of Dawn#TWST Silver#Silver Vanrouge#Twisted Wonderland Spoilers#TWST Spoilers#TWST Book 7 Spoilers#Twisted Wonderland Book 7 Spoilers#Twisted Wonderland
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adreamingrevenant · 5 months
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Yuu, Silver and The Knight of the Dawn are technically all changelings when you think too much about it.
I shall not elaborate at this time.
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prince-kallisto · 3 months
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The look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam ・:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+
I was working on this comic the day before Crowley’s card suddenly dropped haha! 🤣 It was originally supposed to end where Crowley picked Silver up, but then I wanted to add more just because of the card…
This is a reference to the Maleficent live-action scene, where Maleficent picks up baby Aurora. Baby Silver progressively gets tinier the more I drew him 🤣 He doesn’t tolerate the Angst which is understandable!! This entire comic was inspired by Silver’s special lesson voiceline where he says he feels more comfortable when Crowley is around. I thought this line was interesting, since all the characters express their anxiety or dislike of Crowley in Special Lesson mode. Imagine baby Silver he was the only one to get a Crowley face reveal lol?? \(//∇//)\
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sunanthonyz · 4 months
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I'M NOT SAD AT ALL THAT SILVER WAS NOT GIVEN ARMOR, NOT ONCE, AT ALL, I DID NOT CRY ABOUT THIS TO ALL MY FRIENDS--- let me dream
Well also here are my favorite moments from the new chapters
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peaceinthestorm · 8 months
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Harold Knight (1874-1961, British) ~ Dawn, 1909
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rayroseu · 1 month
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HEAD IN HANDS,,,, Just realized the profound realization that at Knight of Dawn and Meleanor's fight, I know they'll never talk it out... But I just realized that the story even expresses that fact visually....
throughout their fight and even until their death, they stayed at their "masked" form.
So, in Knight of Dawn's view, Meleanor was just a dragon and why the story makes it seem like he's just "insensitive" to the fact she's a living person too, because in that fight, he viewed her a monstrous dragon because Meleanor fought him as that. And, Dawn as a human, can't possibly interpret Meleanor's language as a dragon, much like how Humans are inept in fae language and why humans are still having a difficult time understanding faes and their morals.
The same thing with Meleanor, Knight of Dawn was in full armor in that time, so in Meleanor's point of view, Knight of Dawn was just "a piece of metals". (Like how Malleus viewed Ortho as just a "metallic technology"). Additionally, Knight of Dawn was a person who seem to want to say many things but never did(?), so Meleanor never heard him—
So their resistance, in giving up their role was expressed in the narrative decision that Meleanor fights as a dragon and Knight of Dawn will fight her in full armor and also he's a person who doesn't speak much especially in battles (much like a "metal").
Dawn was only "understood" somewhat when he crashed to Lilia, causing his head armor to fall off.... causing his "mask" to fall off
Its the little things to me OKAYY 🥹🥹😭😭
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jangmi-latte · 8 months
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is he the knight of dawn or silver? who knows.
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flowerofthemoonworld · 8 months
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Twisted wonderland book 7 gif
The knight of dawn and Lilia vanrouge
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hanafubukki · 6 months
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Menstrual Cramps Comfort Headcanons with Diasomnia (+ Meleanor Draconia and The Knight of Dawn)
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You are cramping and curled up in bed, Malleus holds you, his tail and arms holding you protectively. The heat from his hands sooth your pain. Malleus would try and keep your mind off the pain by talking to you or spouting random gargoyle facts. When you were sleeping, he would cast a spell so you would have sweet dreams. “Ask me anything you need, beloved, and I will provide.” Suffice to say, Malleus will be with you the entire time.
Lilia knew about menstrual cycles but the fae’s differs from the humans vastly. So he learned what he could from books and online resources, now if those books were up to date is another story. Lilia is a caretaker and he will take care of you: blankets, chocolates, and head pats are some of what you can look forward to. “I’m here, love. You can lean on me.” But also, because he’s cheeky, “I know there’s a way you don’t have to worry about your cycle for 9 months. What do you say? Should we try it~”
Silver knew something was wrong from the way you moved. He was a trained knight, it was his duty to observe for anything out of the ordinary, and you were clearly not yourself. When you hunched over in pain, he was quick to your side, offering to take you to the infirmary. Chivalry isn’t dead, it is literally personified in Silver. He would hold heavy items for you, pick you up from class, get you food, and make sure to remind you of meds if you need it. He would offer to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. “I don’t want to see you suffer, please rely on me.”
Sebek could smell the blood miles away. Normally he would think it’s just a result from normal NRC brawls, but when he smelled it concentrated on you, he was alert right away. He would ask you where you were hurt, practically ready to haul you over his shoulder to the infirmary, but when he paused and observed you: he knew what was wrong. It’s okay, he would assure you, he knew what to do from his mother and his sister after all. You could tell he was embarrassed, but he took his duty diligently in protecting you. He would make you teas, spout facts on what you should and shouldn’t do, and be ready for anyone who looked wrong at you. “Be at ease! For I will protect you from any harm. Now, drink that tea. It will help your pain.”
Meleanor was surprised when she learned about human’s cycles. For the fae, it was vastly different. They had it a couple times a year, but for humans to have it every month? My, how inconvenient it can be, especially if it is as painful as yours seems to be. No worries, she will provide so you are always comfortable. After all, she is Queen of Briar Valley, everything is within her reach. She would have you rest, her hands threading through your hair, soothing you. Her humming a melody calming you down. If anyone dared to hurt you, she wouldn’t hold back from smiting them. “Imbeciles, they dare to hurt you? I will deal with them personally. Now rest, little one, I’m here.”
The Knight of Dawn is determined and loyal as you know. He would notice right away when he saw you. He knew something was off. You seemed to curl into yourself more as time went on. He would watch you throughout the day, helping you whenever he could. He had an inkling of what was wrong but didn’t want to embarrass you. He would bring you food and have you rest repeatedly throughout the day. He would ask the three fairies who blessed him for a potion to help you should the pain be more than you could handle. At times, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted to just carry you to bed with how antsy he unknowingly was. He would hold your hand and rub his thumb on your wrist, trying to sooth you. Don’t be surprised if you fell asleep in his warm presence and woke up to him smiling gently at you. “Are you awake? Sleep some more, I will watch over you.”
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twstjam · 8 months
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I don't know about you guys but I REALLY want aus where the Knight of Dawn and Lilia fight for custody over Silver. Because of how nice Dawny is (if we ignore the part where he's helping Henrik... conflicted or no he still killed fae) I like to imagine one of the conflicts being Lilia and Silver wanting to dislike him but it's really hard to because he isn't an asshole.
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llondonfog · 7 months
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twst (horror) tober — day 3 (sharp)
➤ Day 3: Sharp | “Careful, you could hurt someone with that.”
His father warns him of such as Silver hefts the practice sword with wide-eyed wonder, the weight of a budding world lying in the palm of his hand as his fingers wrap around the grip and pommel.
It is a plain thing— blade made of tapered, sanded wood held in place by a thick cross guard and rustic, brown leather-wrapped handle. The hilt has worn down over the years, faded where many a trainee wielded it with all the might of their deepest wish: to become a knight in the royal guard, to wear the emblem of their kingdom over their chest with untold pride and undying honor.
To Silver, it's the most beautiful sword in the world.
Despite his father's cautious reminder, Silver can see him smile faintly from where he stands, arms crossed in an attempt to hide his biased pleasure as his son takes his first step along the arduous path to share his mantle. His father may not be the most expressive man, but Silver knows where to look for his kindness, his love. They even match today— his mother had laughed so fondly at the sight of them at breakfast with their golden locks held back in place, dressed in similar training outfits that his father had commissioned the royal tailor to create, as Silver diligently reached for second helpings of every plate his father had selected.
"My most handsome knights," she had murmured, kissing his father on a pinking cheek and her giggling son on the top of his head. "How well our people will sleep tonight knowing that they have the two of you to protect us all."
His father gestures to a training dummy with a breastplate and pauldrons of armor already assembled, the dull sheen of metal beckoning in the mid-morning sun. A buckler of hammered steel is held protectively before it, and Silver's heart leaps into his throat at the sight.
"We've sparred with batons enough," his father continues in that same patient tone, all the time and peace in the world to train his only beloved son. "I think that it is time for you to test your hand against what a true opponent would use to block an attack. Your swing needs to be able to withstand a shield rising in front of you, it would not do you any good as a swordsman or a knight to lose your blade in battle because you could not keep a grip on it."
Silver nods solemnly in agreement; it is not mere prattle that his father speaks, he did not become the foremost knight of their kingdom, their realm, by negligence and sheer luck alone. Chest brimming with the joy of knowing his father deems him ready for advancement, has seen the diligence and dedication of Silver's daily practices, he turns to face the dummy, readying his wooden blade.
The faceless straw head stares impassively back at him as he judges the distance between them, the weight of the sword in his hands, the force of the impact he ought to carry through in order to dislodge the shield without injury. Silver can feel his father's gaze, warm with silent pride, resting like laurels over him, invisible in its comfort and steadfast in its praise. He can do this.
He readies his stance, the lightest touch of a summer's breeze lifting his fringe as he all but feels the rushing power of young muscles tensing together to propel his swing—
And drops the sword in shock, hands stinging from the impact as it clatters painfully off his shin.
"Silver!"
Within an instant, his father has rushed to his side, those auroral eyes so identical to his own flush with concern. Calloused hands gently take his own, flipping them over with care and searching his body for bruising, but Silver all but brushes them off, babbling incoherently with a fright so innate, he cannot remember where it emerged from.
"I—I saw someone! Father, I— I know I did, they were standing just behind you!"
For his credit, his father does take a bemused glance behind himself to the empty practice field, but it is simply just that: a desolate training ground that he had ensured would be free of guards and servants for the quality time of training his son.
"Silver, I . . . I do not doubt that you were concentrating, but perhaps it was merely a shadow of a bird? You know how they often enjoy gathering here to watch you spar, are you certain it was a figure that you saw?"
He cannot stop the trembling of his fingers, the bone-deep curdling of his blood. His father soothes a hand through his hair, tucks him into the warm safety of his side, and wipes away the shaken tears that have begun to spill from his eyes, murmuring sweet nothings that have no effect on his reeling nerves.
He knows what he saw— the figure standing behind his father, clad all in shadow with emerald eyes gleaming like the jewels in his mother's crown, pitch-black horns spiraling to the sky.
And clasped in their long, thin fingers, dangling like a noose from blackened talons— his father's necklace, the ring glinting like a warning in the suddenly cold summer sun.
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nymphilily · 18 hours
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The Knight of Dawn gets pegged send tweet
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