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takalzuoom · 1 year

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it’s been done

twst pirate au

𝐂𝐇 .𝟎𝟎𝟏

𝒕𝒘𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒖 -> 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒚

“I bet that.. thing steals them”

“Steals what?”

“The tarts.” The woman’s stern eyes flickered towards yours, groomed red eyebrows scrunched and her plum-red lips snarled, completing the mosaic of disgust on her face. “Honestly, does it even realize how horrible those things are for you?” She huffed, eyes trained on the approaching maid.

“The nerve of it. Bringing those pastries out here to us on your wedding day.” She scuffed. Sipping her tea like she didn't just criticize the approaching maid. With a wobbly smile, she set down the tower of sweets between you.

Red and purple macarons spiraled around the tall platter like vines warped around an old tower. You couldn’t deceive yourself. They looked scrumptious. The ripples at the edge of each cookie acted like a curtain for the pastel buttercream that peeked from each saturated cookie shyly. Reminding you of newborn chicks breaking through their eggs on a warm, breezy spring day.

You tightened your grip on your dress, grounding yourself to not give into the temptations of the brightly colored sweets and causing another war, sevens forbid you offended your future mother-in-law before you even stepped foot in the chapel.

A small ‘Anything else miladies?’ was heard, your attention ripped from the cookies and brought back to the maid. With pristine white gloves, Mrs.Rosehearts shooed her away, the side eye that peaked over her teacup was enough to make the poor girl squeal and scurry away like a rat.

If Mrs. Rosehearts's reputation didn’t strike fear into her, then the comments she definitely overheard did. She was never a quiet woman, especially when mad.

You sent the made a pitying glance as she scampered back to her mouse, family who crowded around her, worried whispers and comforting touches not enough to bring the color back into her face.

“If it steals anymore, it’ll burst!.. ghastly thing.” Mr.s Rosehearts hissed. The tone of her voice did not match the gentleness she used to place her teacup on its saucer. Shaking her head disapprovingly, she unbuttoned the bottom part of her glove, plucking each fingertip until her hand was free.

With a loud and precise snap, butlers in long red penguin suits stepped from their stone perches and snatched the treats away. A butler with slicked-back gray hair, a pointed mustache, and sharp facial features stepped to her side naturally. Unlike the others, he wore a black penguin suit and held a golden pocket watch. Flicking it open to reveal its dreadful ticks.'

She scowled at him, mumbling something about time. Though her signature look disappeared like a leaf in the wind as she snapped her head to you, smiling cheerfully she asked. “See? isn’t that better? Chin up It is for the best. I would not want you poisoned hours before your wedding. All that sugar”. She shivered, almost sounding sympathetic. But her unwavering gaze told you the truth as she snapped again.

You started mumbling again, no doubt promising to have a word with the chefs, though you stayed quiet, opting to instead let your eyes roam over the butler who stood like a pin as his subordinates weaved around him. Never once acknowledging you or his master's ramblings.

Once the table was barren, a large platter of triangle sandwiches and assorted fruits replaced the evil sweets. “I had them prepare fruits and cucumber sandwiches with goat cheese, black pepper, and whole grain bread in case of just an occurrence” She tutted as she puffed her chest.

you looked to the butler again, who now held a pair of thongs as another one sped away.

The more you looked at her happily eating her sandwich, the more you couldn’t get the image of her posing in clad armor atop a mountain of defeated sweets. Sword held high and glistening in the rays of dawn, with a war flag waving erratically in the wind as it hovered atop a candy citizen.

And the more you thought of it, the symbol that was etched on the flag didn't look like a crest, but more like a detailed sewing of a cucumber sandwich.

You glanced behind the peacocking redhead to the hedges to where the red-coats disappeared. One, in particular, held the creamy macaroons hostage as he turned the corner and into the maze, back to where he sprang out of. You could only wish the macarons luck once they were fully out of view. Your stomach roared in anguish once both of them left your sight.

You held back a sigh, pushing your desires to the back of your mind. Logic taking over as you knew she was only trying to help. Making sure you got a light, yet nutritious meal before being fitted into your already tight, breathtaking (in a literal sense) wedding gown. Making sure there was no room for anxiety or sudden churns of your stomach if the macarons decided to spring a mutiny against you. She looked out for you like that, making sure you kept a royal physique that was fit for a future queen and wife.

You bit into the sandwich, thanking the great sevens she wasn’t the one you were marrying as she was already happily (?) married. You slowed your chewing when you thought about your fiance.

They were two peas in a pod. Extremely uptight, serious, and have a history of high blood pressure. Always stressing about rules, punishments, and orders. If it was written on paper then it was the law, no if and or butts. Albeit, Riddle allowed you the weekly macaron, so he wasn’t as bad.

“Oh y/n, dear, you have a crumb on the bottom of your lip.” Snapping your eyes up towards her worried ones. You hadn’t even realized you had scarfed down almost all of the sandwich. A tiny chunk of crumb on your lips stands as evidence of the slaughter. You thanked her as the butler cleaned it for you.

“You’re going to be queen in a few hours, so you should start acting like one.” She gave you a once over.

Placing the kerchief down, you nodded. “Of course, my mistake”

You reached for your Earl Gray. Sipping it eagerly to avoid her scrutinizing gaze.

"Tell me, have you been in the gardens recently?"

You nodded softly "..Just yesterday I stopped by for a quick visit, admiring the new roses we had the gardener plant."

You couldn't hide the droplet of sweat that dripped down your neck, sliding across your trapezius and finding a home in your collarbone. You couldn't tell if you were catching up or being scolded.

Your limbs felt springy like energy was flowing through them that made you want to run, dance, and jump around. But like always, you suppressed that urge. Pushing it down until you couldn't feel the uncomfortable tingles anymore. When the thoughts of bursting like a balloon (in the literal sense), were finally gone, you once again forced yourself back to reality.

“My dear you seem distracted today” placing her hand on the table, like a dog to a whistle you immediately clasped hers. The feeling of leather rubbing against your skin tickled your palm, but you stayed still.

“Just excited about the wedding”

You were a horrible liar, and the shaky sigh she let out proved it.

Caressing the back of your hand, she said “Try not to daydream anymore, I’ve known too many" She hesitated "great soldiers, artisans, nobles- you name it! Lose their wit, ambition, livelihoods, and lives because they couldn’t get out of their head. You are to be queen” she squeezed your hand. “And queens are meant to be on the ground, with their kingdoms. Not in the clouds. I only say this because I care about you, not just because you’re my future daughter and law and queen of Pomefiore. But because you're an intelligent woman that will make for a historic queen. Just, don't sabotage yourself, okay? You need to grow up and stop playing around, okay darling?”

You nodded, forcing your lips to stay neutral as you felt your heart bubble at the compliments, about how grateful you were to have someone cares for you, someone who looks out for you so like her.

And she was right, imagining things were for children and playing was for children. Dressing like a queen and being a queen were two separate things.

And it was about time you stopped playing dress-up.

The clock struck ten which concluded tea time. Red butlers once again appeared from thin air to take care of the platters of food as Mrs.Rosehearts pulled you in for kisses.

“Remember dear” She whispered “For the kingdoms” you nodded, finally allowing yourself to smile at her, practiced and regal before you were ushered away by handmaids and tailors. Squawking around you like birds.

“I entrust morning tea with the Admiral went well?”

“Swimmingly” You responded as a lean stature swooped in next to you, the click of his high heels matched his long strides. Yet he managed to always stay one step behind you.

“Oh? Did you not enjoy the macarons Clover Bakery sent? They are in charge of the baking and if they are no good then will have our chefs cater the wedding.” He teased. The small smirk carved on his face not wavering from the glare you shot him.

“Come now, let's get you all relaxed and situated in your room. We don’t need a bridezilla now do we?” You huffed, smiling lightly at him “You think my father will let me live if I were?” “You’re right” His smirk melted into a smile amethyst eyes glittering in the sunlight that slipped through the windows.

The trip to your room was filled with silent gossip as you told him all about the morning tea party. You felt like an assassin talking in code, taking a moment to think of each sentence before you spoke. You knew no matter how quietly you talked there will always be shadows listening.

Once escorted to your room, you were stripped and placed into the bubble bath Vil prepared for you. The freestanding bathtub was supported by golden legs that complimented the deep purples and ebony blacks that accented the royal bathroom.

Soapy, transparent bubbles float out of the tub like balloons at a festival. You were never not fascinated by the rainbow webs and stripes that decorated some of the bubbles. It had you transfixed, one landing softly on your nose like a butterfly on a rose petal. You stilled, holding your breath not wanting the soapy butterfly to pop out of existence, you stared at its blue-tinted rainbows. mesmerizing every color pattern it had- until you were awakened from your trance when Vil dumped a bucket of soapy water over your head.

Once you were out of the tub, Vil and the team of maids pampered you like a prized pig. You constantly had some kind of mask or cucumber treatment on your face as your nails were filed, eyebrows plucked and darken, and lipstick shades applied and reapplied. Vil was the overseer of it all. Stopping a maid if he noticed even the smallest thing wrong before carefully (yet sternly) guiding her back in the right direction.

As more and more hands touched, caressed, and skimmed your face and body the hotter you felt. An uncomfortable heat latched onto your back, slowly making its way around your body and to your shoulders and chest. Though you didn’t worry too much about the heat, thinking about how it’d disappear once the hands disappeared, and you’ve dealt with worse ie; your father’s lectures.

Yet once the hands and busybodies vanished and all was silent; the heated warmth was still there. This time it encased your whole body with a headache and fatigue joining the symphony.

You were getting sick.

You glanced nervously in the mirror, staring at Vil whose back was turned to you. His white blazer was spotless, perfect even. The black button-down he wore with it contrasted beautifully with his features.

Clearing your throat, you focused on yourself. As regal as he looks, he’ll have to change for the wedding unless people mistake him for your groom.

“You’ve been awfully quiet ever since we got back to your room, your highness” Like a shadow he stood behind you, startling you a bit as your eyes frantically went to his.

You forgot how light his footsteps were. And he knows how easy you startle.

Familiar white gloves hover over your shoulders before they made contact with the dark purple robe you were wearing. He lowered his head until it was next to yours.

“Vil” You sighed. Letting go with a soft chuckle, your ear felt colder with the absence of his breath. Yet your heart fluttered faster from the taboo action.

“I apologize for that, your highness, you merely looked tense so I assumed a little teasing would relax your nerves” He drawled out, hands behind his back as he fixed his position behind you. He knew better than to pull a stunt like… that. Then again, he was your royal advisor for five-plus years. So you gave him the benefit of the doubt as you sighed, moving to put your head in your hands when you heard a throat clear behind you. Flicking your head up you met his gaze in the mirror again. Sending him a sheepish smile as you recalled the tortuous process you just survived.

“If you're stressed you know I’m an open ear, correct?” You sighed, touching your tight, pulled-back hair, eyeing him, he nodded. “Yes Vil, I know and I’m thankful for it, truly” You turned to face him, fixing your robe. “But I don’t know what I’m currently feeling. Excitement, anticipation, nervousness, fervor? I’m unsure what word I can use to describe it.."

You stopped talking when Vil dropped the back of your chair, swirling it around so you could face him. Leather gloves reach out to touch your face yet swerve to your shoulder at the last minute. He gave you a gentle squeeze before sending you a smile of reassurance.

“I know you’re a bit overwhelmed right now. Getting married is scary- and not only that but Riddle is going to have his big promotion later this week and you’re having your coronation ceremony as well. I know it's a lot, and I understand. We’ve been together since we were toddlers, and I’m so proud of how much you’ve blossomed into the amazing young woman you are today. You are Y/N Crewel, daughter of the 7th King of Pomefiore and the only heir to the throne. You’ll soon have armies to command and laws to make which might make you feel lonely at times, but I want you to remember that I will always be by your side. And whenever you shall need me… Just let me know.“

You nodded, heart fluttering at his kind smile. Just looking at his soft smile and warm eyes calmed your pounding head. You felt your spirits start to rise at Vil’s little pep talk. A warmth spreads faster through your chest as you are reminded how much he cares. About how well you knew him and him you. About how he would always know what you were thinking. And always knew how to get you out of a rut. You were glad he was your right hand, and you hoped it stayed that way.

You’re not the first to admit you fantasized about what being married to Vil was like. He was a beautiful, high-ranking noble who was hand-picked by King Crewel himself to be your royal advisor. Yet here he was, with no mistress or harem attached to his arm and no ring on his finger. You even joked with your father about marrying him when you were little. Growing sad when your father would always tell you that ‘it wasn’t that simple.’

Though a few times you brought up the notion of marriage to him he either brushed you off or said he was waiting til he was settled in the palace. You never pressed for more as Vil would usually bite his lip and squint, silently telling you he didn’t want to talk about it. No matter.

“Thank you Vil, I appreciate the kind sentiments, but I’m fine, truly fine” You spoke, forcing your brain to no longer linger on Vil. Filling your mind with your red-headed fiance, in a red-tailored suit, hair brushed to the side as he smiled- genuinely. The kind that made your eyes disappear and your nose crinkle, the kind that showed off your gums and teeth. The one that you wish there to be no photographic evidence of as it showed off so much vulnerability. Showing the world a side of you you keep close and guarded. You yearned to see him smile the way he smiled when you accepted his proposal.

It was quick yet impactful, and the thing that made you truly fall for him.

“You seemed distracted, is everything alright?” Once again rescuing you from your mind's palace, Vil was now staring at you from across the room, a makeup pallet in each hand. “Yes Vil, everything is alright. Though now that you mention it, I’ve been feeling rather… hot lately”

“Oh, sevens forbid you to have a fever” He sighed, rushing quickly to your side. Taking off his glove, he quickly brought his hand to your forehead, eyes shut as he concentrated. He tsked, swatting his hand away before turning tail to the door.

Hesitantly, you placed your hand on the same spot as his, gasping at the sudden heat

“You have a fever, your highness. I’m off to get a cold compress and water to combat it” He opened the door before doubling back.

“Please” He begged softly, “Don’t do anything or go anywhere. If you must, lay down- but make sure not to smudge or ruin any of my hard work, okay?”

“I’m fine, Vil! Truly! I don’t need to lay down” You huffed as Vil reminded you that he never said you had to, and that he merely suggested it. Though with the slam of the door and the fading of his high heels, the more enticing your bed looked.

The fluffed, plum-purple duvet with crimson silk pillows looked too cozy to ignore. Thinking of the restless night you had due to your stomach churning with butterflies. And well, Vil suggested you lay down.

So it was perfectly alright if you did.

When you got up from your chair, everything started happening at once. The world started dimming as you felt your legs weaken. The grip you had on your vanity was non-existent as you buckled to your knees.

You were just tired from all the thinking, you thought. You just needed another cup of Vil’s Earl Grey to get you back into the swing of things, you thought. You’re being dramatic, another voice sneered, saying you should stop wobbling all over the place and stand tall. Prove that you’re okay and take a rest in your bed as Vil told you to.

Your heart pounded in a single, hard thump, the intensity of it rocking your core. You stood up straight, drunkenly closing in on your bed before another thump caused your feet to stagger. It was like your heart and brain traded places. The blood that would flow to your heart was now flowing to your ears as they too thumped.

Did your lungs collapse? Why was it hard to breathe? Why were you so weak? You were never an ill child, the palace physician kept you up to royal standards thanks to your father's watchful eye. Was this your sin for good health?

Or was this some little cold were being over dramatic about, dramatizing this for attention? Vil, where was Vil? He said he'd be there for you yet you can't remember the door ever opening. You couldn't remember if you tried calling for him, but when you tried, your tongue felt heavy and your jaw fell slack.

You were never too religious, but you couldn't think that this was some divine punishment for thinking about another man hours before your wedding. Would it end if you called for Riddle instead? Would he even come if you called? If he came, would he run to you with that cute worried expression he would always have when the physician told him of that day's adventure? Or would he call you over dramatic, telling you to brush it off when he was in the presence of his mother or your mother.

You were a few steps closer to your bed. Thighs locking up and shutting down for the day as you were forced on your hands and knees. You were so close to your bed, your manicured nail shakily reached out toward the soft duvet.

How unbecoming, that familiar snide voice teased, its voice echoing through your mind in a sudden stillness. Future queen on her hands and knees because of a cold, pathetic. You’ve been through worse so how come you’re letting some illness take hold of you? You’re a future Rosehearts and queen of Pomefiore. You’re better than this…

Yet, you succumbed to the quiet embrace of death as your arms gave out and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. A soft groan escaped your lips as you finally collapsed on the floor, inches away from your bed.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus x reader #leona x reader #idia x reader #azul x reader #riddle x reader #jamil x reader #rook x reader #sebek x reader #jack howl x reader #jade x reader #lilia x reader #floyd leech x reader #trey clover x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #twst pirate au 🌊

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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WAIT WAIT WAIT

ROMANTIC KILLER TWST QU BABAHAHAH

wITH THE DORM LEADERS AND AN EVIL CHENTA PLEASE IM CRYING AT THIS😭😭😭

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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romantic killer with :

idia + y/n

vil + y/b

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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yes. yes..

Check out my ongoing comic Crow Time. It has crows, and also neat pantheons of epic beasties.

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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“The more you love your own decisions the less you need others to love them.”

— Unknown

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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black mailing for the sake of good 🙈

#jade leech #floyd leech #idia shroud #ortho shroud #ortho twst #twst jade #floyd twst #twisted wonderland #twst

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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gasp

twst spider head au 🫢

jeff = y/n

steve = azul

lizzy = malleus

heather = vil

sarah = idia

rogan = leona 😭

( dw it’s not totally like the movie 😭)

y’all fuck dw

mark = kalim

idk where riddle fits like 🤷🏻🤷🏻

is he randomly in there? will he be the 4th one you 💒 idk

i really really really really wanna do smthn with this😩 (also watch spider head its really good)

ace and deuce would make an occasional appearance also well as the other characters, but it’ll mainly be focused on the form leaders aha 🫦

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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does anyone know what happened to trappolaces?

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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TEA TIME-

The Girls™

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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Get ready …

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takalzuoom · 1 year

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𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊...

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 || 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝? [+ 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 ��𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚...]

{𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵!}

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 3: 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘢 & 𝘗𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘦

𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳: 𝘐𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘩𝘺𝘥𝘦 & 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘪𝘢 <3

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐀𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦:

◈ Oooh baby, he is very affectionate with you

◈ Like literally, he would hug you out of nowhere but he won't cuddle with you like Floyd

◈ He would definitely would ask Jamil to make your favourite food when you come by!!

◈ After that, you guys would go on to a magic carpet riding. He would just sing a lovely song for you, his heart would soar if you sing along with him

◈ He would actually put some flower crown on your head because he thinks you are beautiful <3

◈ Truthfully he wants to see you be adorned with gold and jewels but he have to hold himself back. Maybe he will do that after you became his beloved? <3

◈ But still, it doesn't change the fact that you look pretty in everything hehe

◈ bUT LORD SAVE HIM BECAUSE HE ALMOST PASS OUT FROM IMAGINING YOU WEARING A WEDDING DRESS

◈ Mans was blushing the whole day that everyone thinks he is having a fever

◈ Try to shrug it off to Jamil but Jamil already knows it lmfao

◈ Would be 100/10 shook, like "How did you know?? I tried not to be obvious!”

◈ "Kalim, you are very obvious like right now 🧍”

◈ Would be a blushy mess and tried to ask Jamil what he can do

◈ Which is, going to a magic carpet ride again! It will make the special moment intimate <3

◈ Plus you were planning to confess so you asked Jamil and he gave you the same answer like he said to Kalim 💀

◈𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 ◈

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫:

◈ This man thinks he is slick or something lmfao

◈ Maybe he is lucky if you are the oblivious one

◈ Because he will try to stand out compare to his peers or even Kalim just so you notice him

◈ Got called out by Ace for being a show off during the basketball practice because you were there 🧍

◈ Almost got snitched by Floyd but Jamil shut him up 💀

◈ But his heart just swoons each time you called him, helped him or even make him a food for working hard

◈ Probably praying a thank you to the Great Sevens for delivery an angel to him <3

◈ Touch his hand accidentally, he would be a blushy mess like ???!???????+3($+$?#?$???

◈ "they touched my hand...."

◈ Thank you Great Sevens

◈ Just so you know, his expression would go ⬆️⬇️↘️↙️ when he is alone so he is very discreet about it

◈ If you praise him, he would be thanking you and when he is back to his room, holy shit he is in blushy mess again

◈ Legit, he never felt so appreciated so expect him to blush frequently

◈ You are lucky if you managed to caught a glimpse of him blushing

◈ He planned to confess when you guys are alone and he will be direct with you <3

◈ What he didn't know is that Ace and Floyd snitched on him 🧍

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭:

◈ A potato captured his heart?! Unbelievable!

◈ It's not like he hates it tho 😳

◈ He takes care of you a lot so expect being by his side 24/7

◈ Literally, if you can't take care your own skin, he is there <3

◈ Like you guys be walking to y'all class, and he would stop walking which you do the same

◈ Pulls out a face mist to spray on y'all faces

◈ It's called self-care 💅✨

◈ Also he is also strict with your sleeping schedule, like expect a message where he say 'go to sleep rn'

◈ If you are prone to sleep late, he will be calling and watching you to sleep otherwise this man will actually burst into your room and put aromatherapy just to make you sleep and be relaxed 🧍

◈ Sometimes will put a baby lullaby to make fun of you tho

◈ If you are affectionate to him, you will be the reason why he is glowing radiantly <3

◈ But during private he would be a blushing mess and also a smiling fool bc sjjdjsjsjsjajdb you call him beautiful <3

◈ He wonders how to confess to you, should he ask Rook to find a pretty secluded area with a fancy dinner to ask you out?

◈ Actually that's a good idea, plus he already knows you feel the same way because he overhears you talking to Epel about it which he is in absolutely delight <3

◈𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 ◈

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭:

◈ Rook absolutely adores you and he want to protect you <3

◈ You look like a small fluffy bunny hehe

◈ And he actually protects you, btw the way he protect is by hiding in bushes or tree then draws his arrows to shoot whoever got too 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 close with you

◈ You didn't think about much because you thought someone was practicing on arrows and it's just a lucky fluke <3

◈ But it's not so rip that person

◈ Also you have a small habit of taking pictures of Rook and he would always compliment you

◈ Like he would sing you a praises and exaggerate it to see your flustered reaction

◈ Which he loves it! Would do it again!

◈ Little did you know, he have a collection of photos where you are being an absolute divine

◈ Perhaps he should ask you to go on the woods with him and have a dance before confessing to you

◈ He already knows you have feelings for him, he always know <3

◈𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 𝅒 𝅓 ◈

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫:

◈ He looks up to you so much that he would try to interact with you everyday

◈ And even always invite you to study with him or do some exercise with him <3 maybe apple carvings too!

◈ If you have the habit of hugging him, he would be a blushy mess and tried to calm himself down which failed miserably

◈ He would be alone and go "holy shit she hugged me"

◈ The fact you smelled like an apple makes the blushing worse

◈ But he stopped when you around, it was like a flip of switch 💀

◈ Nobody can tell if he has a crush on you bc it's either he looks up to you or you guys are bestie tbh

◈ Mf will go hostile if someone barked at you

◈ Inner yeehaw came out to fight a hoe fr

◈ But!! These stuff aside, he just adores you so much, like y'all have a little thing where you guys write small letters to each other despite having phones

◈ Catch him rereading so many times that it motivate him to go on more under Vil's training

◈ He genuinely thinks that you are an absolute sunshine in his life

◈ He adores you so much that he asked Rook and Vil on how to confess to you

◈ Mmm, their advice seems over fancy 🤔

◈ It's okay, let's go with bringing you secluded where you guys can see the moon and him giving you macarons!!

◈ Meanwhile you crumpled on so many papers because you want the love letter to be perfect <3

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takalzuoom · 1 year

Text

twst Incorrect quote #282

Random narrator: “This is MC. MC loves their personal space.”

*Floyd hugging MC tightly*

Random narrator: “This is Floyd. Floyd also loves MC’s personal space.”

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takalzuoom · 1 year

Text

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

��Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

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