twst-drabbles - Tumblr blog

twst-drabbles · 20 hours

Text

The drafts continue! Viper is still a blob in my head but I got inspired and decided to test out this version of him to see if I like it or not. Originally he was just some young dude from a shockingly normal family that met and got exposed to a group of people that's the Reader's family, and eventually started to work under them once his family ends up dead by the Reader's family's hands. Viper wants to see their downfall, and Reader is pretty much aligned in that goal, so they help him out in exchange for his undying loyalty. And, of course, this leads to his corruption.

That's pretty much still the same, Viper's eventually corruption.

Drafts 2

Summary: Viper's concept has went through a number of changes, though I'm not sure if I want to keep this version where he was once a revenge driven man that ends up corrupted by the seemingly normal Reader. Also some world building regarding an idea I had in mind about a giant snake that's been cut into two, so you have the Headless Snake and the Bodiless Snake, both giving some kind of boon depending on the part you find.

Would anyone believe you if you said that this man before you used to be upstanding? That he used to focus entirely on the justice of his revenge rather than relish in the violence of it all. Before, it was never his calling. You remember the way his eyes would lose all their shine every time his hands became dotted or soaked in blood.

It didn't matter if it was his or someone else, everything about him would just stop the moment the last breathe was taken. He'd be paused in the moment, lost in the mess of his own mind. Eventually he would pull himself back, for his goal was never truly done.

Viper rarely used to smile too. Before, he was the type of man that would dress up to the nines and carry around perfume just to give himself that little extra boost. In the early days that you knew him, you remember the mess that he was. Unshaven, white hair oily in all his unwashed glory, a hoodie that's been hand-washed so roughly that it was fraying at the seems.

He was a mess. A mess that cared for nothing but the search of his next target.

You never got the details of what exactly he was after. From all the words he grumbled at you over the flask, you just got that he was after something. A potent anger, a white hot core that's been pulsing in his heart long enough to push all thoughts of a happy future out.

This man was on a path that would only end in his death. Even when his quest for revenge was finished, you were more than sure that he would simply vanish. One day, you'd just open his apartment door and find the whole place empty of anything, even dust.

Like he didn't want to be found. As if he wanted to truly disappear from the world and be forgotten.

Honestly, the world that Viper belonged in wasn't one you ever expected to touch, let alone reach inside. A life of blood, of entanglements that all lead to a vicious fight of control and obedience. Assassinations, families ties stronger than any steel, and betrayals that seek to sever these ties.

All of it, on a hierarchy build around the potency of the Headless Snake’s blood.

Ah, you don't really care for the details. All you know is that Viper is alone because of betrayal. The life he was building, all of it came crumbling down in a single family gathering.

So then, why are you here? Why did you take an interest in a man that, by all means, has nothing to do with you?

Because you lead an interesting life of your own. Because you've seen atrocity after atrocity lay waste to the place you once called home.

And what you saw in that forest, when you saw those bodies and Viper bleeding into the graves he was digging, you were reminded of home.

You had found your sacrifice.

#admin #reblog

14 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 9 days

Note

For the House Pet AU can/does MC drive? And if yes which pets like to go on a car ride if any do, and do they come along the ride for shopping (like the kid seat in shopping carts, or the carriers made specifically for pets like I've seen for some cats and dogs)

Hmm that's a good question.

I can't really see the Caretaker owning a car, on the account of how expensive they are, but mostly because the neighborhood and place they grew up in is a pretty walkable place. It's very easy to request for magical buses to come by and add in your street as a potential route. And since buses are public service, nobody has to worry about paying a dime. Just go in and wait. Though, the Caretaker will probably entertain the thought of getting a car, if only for the safety of the pets. And you can bet your ass that someone is going to buy a car for the Caretaker as a celebration gift for getting a license.

Magical engines are pretty much a thing by this point and they're very silent things. No need to worry about cars and other vehicles making that loud sputtering, so the only reason why anyone would hear a motorcycle engine or any kind of engine is because it was specifically requested from the driver. Like, the driver wants everyone and their mother to hear them driving everywhere they go, just for the sake of showing off. By this point in time, it's just rude to have a loud engine just for the sake of it and are pretty much considered real old fashioned.

So, I suppose to answer the question, it isn't no. Initially they didn't have a car, but will likely have one later down the line. And it's... a ride that's for sure. Deuce over here is very stoked and will plop himself on the wheel like he can drive, then Ace will hop right on over and join Deuce at the wheel. Little weirdo. Riddle is being a good boy and is inside the plush car seat strapped in there specifically for the pets. Trey and Cater can usually be seen snoozing off and if the car ride is long enough, the rest of the plant nymphs will follow.

Jack and Ruggie are little those little bobbleheads sitting up in front, just enjoying the sight, clearly getting charged up and wanting to run right alongside the car, but they're very well behaved, so that won't happen. Leona's reaction is rather boring since he's been in cars before, so he's just napping on the passengers seat.

Idia over here was initially interested in the way the car worked, but whatever was inside apparently wasn't what he wanted, so he just plays simple games on the Caretaker's phone while the ride goes on. Ortho, Caretaker had to fight him to keep him from possessing the car engine. He's eternally locked in the pet carrier because he will slip away, he will get into the engine, and he will go to the speeds he wants. He's sentences to pet jail for the duration of the ride and it makes him grumpy every time. Unless you have a treat. He's not interested in the engine when it's not turned out, just so you know.

Malleus and Lilia initially got pretty carsick the first few times, but they're stubborn and they want to be with the Caretaker and Silver every step of the way. They got used to it eventually, and Sebek over here is really fascinated by the changing scenery. His face will be pressed up against the window and it's funny to stop suddenly because you can hear the squeak his face makes as it rubs against the glass. It makes him so angry.

#admin #house pet au

48 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 10 days

Text

Leona 27

Summary: Little Leona likes to nap in a bowl filled with scraps of Cheka’s old baby blanket. During those times, you like to scratch him and watch him melt into a pile of sand.

(Hmm, might write about Rook next. I miss him and his weirdo antics. No clue what to do on that front.)

Often, you have to be careful with your timing when it comes to petting Leona. If you try to approach him too early with your affection, he’ll bat at your fingers and run away from you. If you give in to your impatience and insist on giving him affection, he’ll straight up leave the house and won’t come back until Falena or Cheka come here to pick him up.

For a creature that naps quite a bit, his tolerance towards anything is very thin. Which you suppose is natural for spoiled critters such as him. Vil was much the same way until you came along and humbled him.

Ignoring Leona worked out for the most part. He’d stay in the house of his own volition, only venturing out as far as the garden and as high as the roof. Sure, he’d still make demands of you and would sand your things if he thought that would get you to listen, but that time trapped in that airtight container you got from Crowley certainly got him thinking twice.

Anyway, all this to say that Leona went from ignoring your existence until he wanted a servant to always wanting to be in the same room as you because he must keep an eye on you, like you’re a threat or something. And because Leona was constantly in your presence, it was only a matter of time before he started napping in it.

In every room you’re usually hanging out in, you have these ornate hand-painted bowls you’ve received as a gift just sitting there close to you. Inside those bowls were a handful of cloth cut from Cheka’s old baby blanket. You felt a little weird asking for that at the time but now you had no regrets.

Because, inside the bowl on the patio you’re at was Leona, face buried deep into the creases as he laid on his belly. Only in moments like these could you reach out and stroke his face without it being a gamble.

Leona’s been getting better at getting pettings, though he only tolerates a few pats before zipping off elsewhere. When in the deep throes of sleep, however, you could dig your fingers into his face and he wouldn’t care.

You lifted his limp head, watched the weird way the dips and creases of his face shifted and melded together like writing on sand, then scratched the bottom of his chin. He woke up in instant, features rushing right back to definition, blinked, then sank onto your fingers.

Leona was one of those pets that, when he starts really getting into feeling your nails scratch against his form, he starts wanting it deeper. He lowered himself further and further, the shape of himself getting flatter in the way boneless creatures do.

You snorted just as Leona finally lost his grip on his form, losing his colors to the golden sand. He fell with a dull thud on his little scraps of blanket, gold flecks trailing down through the gaps in your fingers.

Leona reformed himself like clay, didn’t even bother with putting himself in his tiny clothes. Instead he looked up with his sleepy eyes, grabbed your fingers and shoved his face into your palm.

Oh he’s going to regret this later once he fully wakes up, you just know it.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #savanaclaw #leona #leona kingscholar #house pet au #reader insert

80 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 12 days

Text

Reeeead my stuuuuuuuff! This was an old attempt at playing Iron Valley my own way, via writing it down like a story. Lot of words, lot of prose, and lot of ramblings from me, so take a read! Have fun reading my writing from my writing high that had overtaken me a while ago.

It's a Reader Insert, just so you know, so Reader still doesn't have a defined appearance or gender.

Drafts 1

Summary: Just an unfinished solo writing thing while playing Iron Valley. Basically it was just me testing out what it is I wanted, trying to create my own setting and characters, but then my brain got bored of it. So, I figured I may as well dump it here.

(I said I was going to start dumping my drafts here and I am going to commit to it. Drafts will be half actual prose writing and rambles on the side because I want people to enjoy the ideas and characters I have in my head. Hope this is fun!)

Today’s Spring pick for the Luminariae Post is as follows:

When a new branch grows, I always worry for what it may carry. The bark upon the trunk is many years old and yet it still insists on growing new leaves, new buds, and new fruits. A large and wise old tree, and yet it didn’t know age. It didn’t know where it should draw its limits. It simply grew and produced, as it always has, even when the threat of disease was always there.

But I’m not scornful. I’ll simply grab my polished clippers and snap off whatever rot has caught onto the leaves, onto the branches. I’ll eat the fruit it gives me, and carve a flute out of the wood I snipped off.

I’ve been there when you were young, when each new leaf would make me dance in the mud because I keep forgetting not to over water you. When your fruits would spawn out of seemingly nowhere, like your love for the world could not be contained, so you had to give it back as much and as fast as you could.

You’ve long outgrown me. I can’t even climb up to the very top of you as I once used to with my own little sister. You could still support me, but the youth in your new branches are not what they used to be. And yet, you still try and grow just as much fruit as you can, even when it’s no longer anything anyone can eat.

You’re just an old fool. You and I are two of a kind. And that it why you will always be one of my dearest friends.

And every day, I thank you for being who you are.

– Carmen

Heyo, author Noir here. So, the idea I had for this little segment is that every start of the new season, the Luminariae Post would post a submission that was sent to them by one of the residents in this small town of Arbor Hills. Typically they pick submissions that have something to do with the current season, or just a general connection to nature that can be connected to said season. It's also meant for the regular folk to take a peek into a small part of that resident that wrote the piece. Just fluff writing things.

Oh, and Carmen is a big ol dragon man, the one that basically provides the Reader with a house and a job, a nice bouncing point since the Reader starts off with literally nothing, not even clothes. He's a nice man, good roommate and clearly misses having other people live in his house. There's this big tree that the whole town pays their respects towards because of the sheer size and reach of its roots. In fact, most of the plants and trees you find often end up connecting their roots to that big tree, as it provides nutrients to said plants, leading to them weathering even the toughest of disasters. Rumor has it that Carmen was the one that planted that tree when it was a sapling, but that's just a rumor.

Spring 2

Time: [0/4]

| Forecast: Sunny | Luck: Neutral | Lucky Color: Lemon |

“Did you hear? Apparently our dear local baker has been in need of a new recipe to put as a potential special.”

“Oh? Which one? Is it that sweetie Ivory or that nutty Obsidian?”

“Don’t be mean Martha. But it is nutty Obsidian. Apparently he’s going a little crazy from lack of inspiration and just wants something new to really make his day pop from grays to happy pinks.”

“Hehehe, well in that case, you think he’ll want to try out some of my homemade cookies? Maybe that’ll perk him right up and get his head out of the pizza oven ashes?”

“Bleh, if you want to kill him… But yes, let’s. I’ll be the merciful one and bring him some of my delicious tea.”

“Let’s poison him together, Lily.”

The idea I had here is basically a cutscene being played out every day, where a couple of characters do something or have a conversation that implies a very long request. The town bulletin is still a thing, but those quests will end up being pretty short. The short requests do change often, I'd say once every two days, while the longer requests are more persistent, changing once every five days. Obsidian is basically this mad scientist-like baker that loves to go crazy with the designs and flavors of his baked goods. And, well, he's prone to losing inspiration and just wants something to get that flow going. He's a pretty intense cosmic star dude, the kind of energy that easy to be overwhelmed with. He has a sister named Ivory who helps out in the bakery, but is mostly found working with wood as the local carpenter. She's not gentle, she has that quiet intensity about her, and is just as wacky with her woods craft. She will get the request done, and will probably add some else to it. A weird feature that you probably won't notice until you accidentally activate it. Like a table that can convert itself into a suit of wood armor. You never know with these two.

Oh, and I have no clue who Martha and Lily are. Just that they're best friends who love to gossip, and were once very competitive rivals in school before someone tried to accuse them of cheating so they'd be unable to participate in theater. Yeah, those two were theater kids, and their rivalry, for the most part, was a fun exaggerated thing on their part that got a liiiiittle too real, but they're good now. They're middle-aged and married to their respective spouses.

“You doing alright?”

You snapped out of your reverie by a rumbling voice that’s not quite meant to overpower the general noise, so much as it should rumble underneath one’s feet.

You didn’t look at Carmen. You looked at his horns instead, all scratched up and chipped at in all their ridged and curling glory. It’s hard to look at him in the eyes. They aren’t particularly piercing, they’re just filled with a love for the world around him. A gentle and boundless love that he’s willing to share with you, a fellow roommate but a stranger still.

It’s… a lot. Too much. But it’s fine. He’s good and nice. He makes you all those warm and filling meals, and lets you take up a room in his house. You had nowhere else to go, but he gave you a hand anyway.

So, are you doing alright? He did ask.

You hummed out a yes. Because words would be too much in all this noise. The sensation of your throat rumbling, of moving your lips and making a conscious effort not to stutter. You’re already a little on edge as is.

“Hmm,” he copied your tone, though you didn’t know if that meant he believed you or not, “I know there’s a lot of little noises, but a small outing like this is good. It is something to get used to, that’s for certain.”

It’s… yeah, he’s right. It is a lot. Carmen’s farm isn’t exactly all the quiet either, with all the cows, chickens and bees he has, but there’s a different quality to the noise of people. It’s a… a rhythm, of sorts. The livestock back home are always keeping out a listening ear to the nature around them, so their own noises follow that beat, usually. But people… don’t really care, nor can they truly listen.

The rhythm isn’t bad, in the sense that it’s wrong and that people should pay more attention. It’s just… different. Absorbed in their own little pocket of time. And those pockets just, overlap in your ears.

You’ll probably get used to it, in the same way you got used to Carmen when you first woke up to his face looming right over under the arbor. It was an adjustment. The man’s over seven feet tall with a broad frame to fit, built over the years from heavy farm work. But, you suppose that’s the average height of all dragons. Well, his specific branch of dragon anyway. You don’t know any other dragon.

You nodded and let your eyes wander over the sparse crowd around you, to the area you’re both sitting on a bench in.

The village’s center, built around a pretty fountain that’s filled with little seashells, all in various pastel colors of white, blue and pink. One little kid in white sandals had to lay her belly on the ledge of the fountain just to reach in and drop her shell. Her little transparent wings fluttered with her excitement, dropping flecks of pink dust here and there.

A water spout spat right up her nose and the little fairy girl snorted then gave a big powerful sneeze. She launched herself right into the air. Luckily, before you or Carmen could rush right over, her father was right there to catch her.

Chuckling, her fairy father said, “I got a precious gift from the heavens!”

“No!” She yelled, raising her arms high like claws, “I am your worst nightmare! I eat your dreams and your banana splits!”

He gasped, “A monster! Oh no!”

She kicked her feet and lost a sandal in her giggles.

You jumped when Carmen gave chuckles of his own. The sheer volume of his voice never ceases to surprise you, that his happiness can be something so… loud? Strong? It’s solid. Which is kind of dumb now that you think about it. You’ve seen him lift an entire tree trunk with his arms and shoulder alone. It shouldn’t be shocking at all to find that his laugh has just as much power behind it.

But it is, because he would always bend down just so people could hear him. He didn’t like raising his voice just as much as he hated going into the details of his private life.

And with a flinch, Carmen realized as much. He looked to the side, scratched the back of his neck, and sighed out, “Sorry.”

Did you look bug-eyed? You probably did.

You shook your head at Carmen. He doesn’t need to apologize to you. It’s not his fault that you’re easily startled. Besides, he’s the one going out of his way to get you situated in this place. He didn’t have to do it, but he did anyway.

He nodded to you then hovered a hand right over your shoulder. He stopped, waited, and when you shifted closer, he patted you. The weight and strength of his bones alone almost made your joint creak.

“I’ll be going on ahead. I need to buy some things for the gardening day this week.” Carmen reached into his pocket and took out a few notes that you don’t really need. He pays you plenty for your services, but saying no to him–especially when he wants to spoil or be nice–just leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He stuffed them in your hands. “Go around, explore. Or relax by the community garden if you’d like. I’ll be by Peach’s place for the most part. I won’t go home unless you want to, okay?”

Ah, here it is, the big send off. You can’t really complain since you asked for this kind of time for yourself, but augh… It’s difficult all the same. You’ve been here for the better part of one year and you’ve yet to make a single friend. You haven’t really been trying, to be perfectly honest. Whenever you go out into the village on your moped, you’re strictly in working mode, schedule and time all planned out. Whenever people would try and talk to you during those hours, you get antsy and anxious.

You hate being off schedule. On top of that, if you weren’t working, you were around Carmen all the time. He’s a friendly and well known face. It’s only natural for people to gravitate towards him rather than you, especially when you would rather hide in his shadow than look at anyone.

You weren’t trying to make friends. Everything was just too unfamiliar for you to do that, or even think of it. And nobody pushed you to do that. In a way, you’re grateful for that, that the people here left you alone for the most part. A nice respect of your time and attention. They made attempts to talk to you, certainly, but that was about where the pushiness ended.

And, now, you’re calmer-ish. You can take the time and try.

You can go anywhere and make a friend.

…

Augh, you still can’t talk. Words just really don’t want to come out.

Well, baby steps, baby steps.

Carmen has since left you to yourself, with money in your hands. A nice sizable amount. Can’t buy a microwave with it, but you can grab a while feast of pastries if you wanted to.

…you know what? That sounds like a good idea. Having something to munch on while trying to make a friend would help calm you down some. Besides, a lot of people frequent the bakery. Surely you’ll be able to find someone who wants to befriend you.

That and you’ve heard of the gossip between those two women over there. Apparently the local baker needs some help. You don’t have any ideas, but maybe you’ll come up with something by the time you get there?

The crowd didn’t really get any thinner as you walked down the white stone path. Lots of people were gathered in small packs, but they were polite enough to shift slightly out of your way. You followed the scent of bread and soon enough found yourself inside the cozy atmosphere of a bakery.

Honestly, it seemed more like a home than it did a bakery, which makes sense since it looked like a store/home hybrid from the outside. But, rather than a home that seeks to hide emptiness with store bought furniture the owner vaguely likes, each table, chair and even the frame of the mirrors in this place were clearly handmade.

It was small though, and all the furniture had people either gathering or sitting on it. There wasn’t anywhere you could just pick and sit down for an hour or two while you mindlessly pick at your pastry and watch the people go by.

A healthy routine makes for a good base for potential friendships. At least that’s how Carmen puts it. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you may as well try, right?

You walk to the back of the line and wait. At the front, behind the register was someone that you can only describe as a galactic black hole. The white light that makes up what you think is hair slowly swirls around in a clock-wise motion, collecting light like a vent does smoke as it slowly gathers in some dark center you can’t make out. The white light hair fades into a dark shadow dappled with white little star pinpricks, doing nothing to to take away from the bright eyes that look around this way and that.

This person had no mouth to speak of as he nodded and packaged a new box of pan dulce. It’s interesting to you, watching the way their body never quite stabilized into something truly solid, but it was enough for his clothes to hang on. He didn’t have a uniform, it was just a set of comfy billowing clothes that had little tears and big patches over what was probably holes.

His form stretched up, bending in ways a shadow would as he gave the box to the person waiting in line.

“You wanted a surprise and a surprise is what you’ll get!”

Aaaand this is where I lost my steam, and I had a pretty good pace going too.

Reader is basically this dryad person that was born from the big tree(of which I have yet to name, eh) and as such, has little to no knowledge of many things beyond the general basics. Socializing is obviously not their thing. Many of the towns people just think they're a traveler from afar that suffers from amnesia, but since nobody witnesses the Reader coming out of the tree, it can't really be disputed that they're not a traveler.

There's a biblically accurate angel just, hanging out in Arbor Hills. He's the current master carpenter and boss of Ivory. He spends most of his time sleeping, and in the rare times one manages to make a request to him, you can be sure that whatever furniture he makes will never break, and will even have a little buff to them.

The angel's name is Peach, because someone called him "an absolute peach." With the last name Angel for the sake of simplicity. No matter how you poke and prod at him, you can't get details about his past, you'll just get references about how empty of an existence he was living before coming here. Now he can dream all he likes.

There's a tradition at the start of a new year to share stories you may have or have written. Arbor Hills is all about communal story crafting, so often the whole town will come together to either craft a new fairy tale, or add on to another existing tale. The only rule is that it has to have at least one true event in there, or be based on a true event. So you could have witnessed a bug trip over grass and flip itself over and craft a tale about a malicious weed that seeks to grow and prank all the bugs that nipped at it. That kind of thing. So, one of the Promises is to get ideas and make a story before Spring 1 rolls around. There are usually two groups, one group that's full of people that have written their stories on their own, and the other group that shares their ideas for a group story making session. Perfection is not expected. Just have fun. And if you don't want to make a story, just be a listening ear.

There's also another tradition where, after reaching a certain age, kiddos go to the community garden to pick out a seed they like and plant it somewhere in the town. This tradition does stretch out beyond just for the kids, you can do this as a new adult, or when you reach a huge milestone in your life. Don't worry about having to take incredible care of it, these seeds are magical and are often deeply connected to you. They grow as you grow, and if they get sick, you can be assured that they'll be taken care of by the garden spirits of the forest.

There aren't many dragons to be found. There be different types of dragons, but their lifespan varies quite a bit between them.

Same for the dryad. There's nobody else quite like you, and if there is, they're usually no bigger than the size of your palm. Tiny, squeaky things.

I know I have more things sitting in the brain, but I need to prodded at to really remember. So, if you want to poke at my brain, be my guest!

#admin #reblog

12 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 14 days

Note

Glad that your lights came back on so soon. At least that's something positive that's happened

The house I live in is pretty damaged so I half expected the lights to not come on until a few days later. Happens often enough that we have an entire box dedicated to battery powered stuff and even a generator for emergencies. Hate that generator though. It's super loud.

But yeah! I can hopefully rest easy and just, enjoy the things I've got done.

#admin

7 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 14 days

Text

Okay thank God, lights are back. Was about to lose my mind if I had to sleep in this heat.

Today has been saved!

Hahaha!

Lights went out!!

Fuck! Me!!

#admin

19 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 14 days

Note

OOF hope the power comes back soon for ya. I wish you luck

It's just one thing after another. To be fair, I did entirely expect this because there's construction work going on outside, but still!!! Can't I have a break?!

Well, at least I have my battery powered things with me so I won't be hot.

#admin

8 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 14 days

Text

Hahaha!

Lights went out!!

Fuck! Me!!

#admin

19 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 15 days

Note

I'm sorry to hear things are not going too great - can definitely understand (going thru it too 🙃), it always sucks when it piles up like that

I love your writing so much and I just wanted to send smt in. I hope things look up for you really, really soon!!! I'm wishing and sending lots of good luck your way!!

I hope so as well, I really need that uplift. Well, I'll probably be fine when I go to sleep. Sleep is nice for that mental reset, when I'm still a little off from that crawling dread. Hopefully I'll actually want to eat soon, lost my appetite from all that.

It's a coin-toss as to whether I'll be writing more or writing less, the brain is a weird little thing after all. Probably more, though I'll likely be more towards my little solo-journaling things. Hmm, I might post those solo-journal writing things on neocities at some point before posting them on my main blog. Been getting into Iron Valley for that comfy thing even though it's not really a solo-journaling thing. It's nice. It's fun.

#admin

9 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 15 days

Text

Heartslabyul 7

Summary: The plant nymphs always finish eating before you do. So, you watch them skitter about as you continue munching. Fast little walkers, all of them are. It’s nice to hear their little feet on the table.

(I’m… not having a good time. The house was without water for a bit and we got it back, but then the house sprung a gas leak so we were without hot water just as a cold front came in. And we have a gas stove, so we couldn’t boil water. And then I found the body of a stray cat I liked right on top of that. Back to back. Really puts a damper on the good mood I finally managed to grab after months of apathy… I need a distraction.)

Honestly, it was rather difficult for you to eat early in the morning. Nothing to do with sleepiness muting your hunger, more that your appetite just wasn’t present. Your stomach growled, it twisted this way and that almost to the point of nausea, but no matter what you looked at, nothing grabbed at you.

So, instead of looking for something to spark that craving, you just picked a bland enough food that won’t overwhelm you with its taste and texture.

Little pit-pats quickly raced towards you and you looked down. Ace bounced on one foot as he struggled to pull himself up on the lip of the bowl. When he finally got his torso over, Ace took one look, one sniff of what you’re scooping up, and his face creased up in a disappointed frown.

You took another bite and pushed Ace off with your pinky. “Get off, you’re not getting anything from me.”

Ace glared at you, grabbed your napkin just to spite you, and stomped off. Well, not quite stomped. His feet pattered against the table in that way budgies do when they’re really determined to get to a place without flying. You’re pretty sure these little creatures are incapable of walking slowly.

Not even Trey and Riddle are exempt from this. Trey’s steps were very close to one another as he set up the table for the Roseling. In his concentration, he walked with the same amount of purpose as Ace was doing.

The chair Riddle was supposed to be sitting at was empty, for he beamed out of it as soon as he saw Ace being a little brat. His petals were fluffed up and jiggled almost violently with his quick steps as he raced to Ace with that stormy look on his face.

Ace, snickering to himself obliviously, threw the napkin right over the munching Deuce. Suddenly without vision, Deuce sat up in a panic and dashed around the table, flapping about in an effort to get it off but can’t.

You snorted just as Riddle gave Ace a good smack on the head and a binding thistle for his pranks.

Cater and his clones, who were tapping away at your phone at maximum efficiency, looked up just as Deuce knocked right into him. Like a set of bowling pins, all the Caters were knocked and scattered away.

You finally decided to intervene and cupped Deuce just as he was about to roll right over the edge. “Woah, careful there.”

One Cater was rubbing at his head while the others skittered right over to your hand. Almost gliding, the way they all walked. They each grabbed a side of the napkin and ripped it apart. Deuce’s head popped out through the whole like a sprout, clearly confused and but relieved to be free.

Trey had stopped his set up for a moment, looking over the chaos with a skeptical eye. His attention was on Riddle squeaking at Ace who sat on the ground, grumpy. Then it landed on your hand as the Caters patted at Deuce was still a little dizzy from all that rolling.

Then he noticed you looking at him. You raised an eyebrow and only then did Trey just, looked away. Continued to set up the table like he didn’t notice anything was wrong.

Just to bother Trey a little bit, you reached over and poked Trey’s legs. He jumped up a good three inches into the air before skittering around faster.

You chuckled. You really like the way they all walked.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #heartslabyul #riddle #riddle rosehearts #trey #trey clover #cater #cater diamond #ace #ace trappola #deuce #deuce spade #house pet au #reader insert

111 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 17 days

Note

This only cropped up in my brain today but I’ve been brainstorming my own nymph and wanted to know about their nature. Like is it typical that they have to exist in groups like the Heartslabyul nymphs, or can they live independently? And are you okay with fan based pets based on your au? Not in a way that the caretaker would take care of them but just like, caretaker would come across another nymph in someone else’s yard like seeing someone’s pet friend

Hohohoho yes I'm very much okay with anyone making fan-based pets on this au of mine. In fact, I encourage it! I love seeing people's creativity flow out!

But anyways, yes, it's standard nymph behavior to be in group due to their naturally social nature, but they can found scouting around on their own. Most nymphs that are found on their own are usually on a search for a group to belong in, or they're just looking for some seeds or plants to take with them. The more nymphs they can adopt into their group, the better, because then they can all work together to make their garden territory bigger and also provide for their main flower.

Typically, the little plant nymphs tend to be older than the main flower, but it's not unusual for a main flower to be on their own and find new plant nymphs to care for and be cared for in turn.

They won't die if they're on their own. Some plant nymphs can be extremely picky about who they want to belong with, and who their main flower should be. There have been instances of plant nymphs outright leaving their main flower because they prove to be too selfish, or tyrannical. Some may even outright kill their main flower if they're a danger to the garden they've crafted.

So, while a solitary plant nymph is a little weird, it's not something to be alarmed by. For all we know, they could just be an adventuring plant nymph looking for seeds to put in their garden later. Or they're just seeing the sights. They're smart enough to have hobbies of their own. Besides, they're actually a good sight to see. If one sees a plant nymph wandering in your garden, that means you have something good going on in there.

#admin #house pet au

15 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 17 days

Text

Heyooo I'm writing about my OC's again. It's going to have quite the number of drafts and other things that have just been sitting on my laptop in the coming days. Entertain meeeeeee!

Dyrage 1

Summary: Long has Dyrage split off his attachments to the face you wore. As long as he is here, it must be kept that way. His job, at the current moment, is just to question you, to see if you have memories other than the one you have consumed.

(Ooof, been a while huh? Anyways, no clue if I want to make this character canon or not, but he's been on the brain so I wrote about him anyway. And also because these are literally my little brain creations, I can make anything or nothing canon as I wish. So... yeah!)

And in all your gross and pulsating meaty mass, you closed the distance, getting right into his face with the one that haunts his dreams. This part was human, but that's about as far as it goes. Only skin deep.

And yet, there was something in Dyrage that just… hopes that there was something else in there, that you didn't just copy the genetic and memorial make up of a person. That, somehow or another, you were the soul who's face you were. And that, if it's true, then surely there should be more. You were cut off from a bigger mass, from a red deeply red moss that grew on that divine tree.

A tree that made itself a forest out of Dyrage's own home.

"Does Serenity Hill seem familiar to you in any way."

All of this could've been done behind glass or even thousands of feet above, Dyrage knows that, but he, to an extent, also knows this creature. He knows you, and he knows that you have a particular diet. Or, rather, you know what it is he white coats want.

Stubborn. So stubborn that you would rather eat foods that disgust you. You're starving yourself and you don't care.

Dyrage want to pretend he doesn't know why he tries, but he hates lying to himself. Delusions were a color he'd much rather leave far behind him.

You tilted your head then leaned back, the membranes above his head twitching and turning with your every thought.

"Serenity Hill…" you reached both hands high above you, as though you were reaching up for the sun you're never allowed to see, "The village of white peaches and stagnation. The flavor was always stale upon the tongue, no matter how much effort was poured into the yield. And the texture… it was like biting into a ball of moss."

…The face that you wear and the voice that you speak with. He can't speak of purity, he can't say anything about tarnishing, but he wishes you were nothing more than a monstrosity. Back to that flesh being that was simply that, inhuman flesh in a tube. At least then you wouldn't be able to extract things from his most precious memories.

You speak of his home, of those white peaches as though you were actually there.

But that is all he can do. His thoughts are his alone. He can throw any number of insults within and not worry of what will happen outside.

"And where does this memory originate from?" Dyrage had to grip his pen just so nothing shows on his face. The things he has seen and done, he can't falter. He won't falter.

Your torso twisted around with rubber elasticity. You bowed and were back in front of his face once more.

"You should know well where the memory comes from," Bored. Dyrage allowed himself to entertain your request and already you were getting bored of him. Of course. Of course! "I didn't know you to be one to ask redundant questions. Is there something you're hoping for?"

"It's all standard procedure."

"Liar."

"Simply answer the question and I won't lie to you anymore."

"Hmm," you eased back and settled into the wall of flesh that consumes half the room, as though reclining on a sofa, "Well, it's not as though I truly hate lies."

Dyrage knows that. That man, your pet as he's been called, is still alive to this day. Resting from the strain of fusing a strand of yourself into his spine, but resting and alive nonetheless. He remembers the recordings, about how he was fine and that he’ll be back shortly.

That man, Ash, was also full of lies. No matter the face, no matter the authority, he will lie to them if it means he will not be thought about. Like he wants to disappear and not matter to anyone.

"Don't lie anymore for today," you said with a smile that simply didn't belong, "Tomorrow you can lie as much as you like. I want to see them all one day. There's only so many one can wrap themselves around in before they're nothing more than a suffocating bug."

"The question. I’m still waiting for an answer."

"From this one," you pointed to your face, "Serenity Hill comes from the memories of this one. Nothing more, nothing less."

"…are you sure? Nothing beyond… this?"

Was there truly nothing? Nothing within that collective memory? Nothing from when you were nothing more than a part of a red mass nesting in the bark groves? Was your head truly that empty of anything?

"Nothing beyond, you weird little seeker you. I don't hold any other origin point to draw from. I only have one well. A well that I can peek into to gather all your secrets. Though… well, that doesn't matter now does it? My words hold no power to anyone besides you."

Because you are a,

"Monster. You are right to know your position here. Your awareness makes you all the more precious. And as precious of a being you are, you will be kept safe in mind, body and soul."

A soul that belongs to no one else but you. A soul that Dyrage will not recognize. A soul with no hope in it.

"And for that safety, I'm glad," you snuggled in deeper, smiling wider, "surely this status will apply to my extensions, to my other precious limbs?"

To that man. To one who named himself Ash.

"Of course, we can't very well afford to lose such precious things."

"Who's to say what would happen if they were cut from me. I can't very well control the muscle memory within if that were to happen. After all, my priorities have evolved past instincts, but that's not to say they don't exist anymore."

There is a base and it must not be forgotten. Dyrage will never forget the bloody pedestal you built yourself upon. Your interests are odd, but your instincts remain.

"I will keep that in mind."

But such threats have never held power over him anyway. If you don’t have even a single secret regarding your true origins, about that white tree that has sprouted and laid its roots over the roofs and soil of his homeland, then you held little power.

Your words mean nothing. They have to mean nothing. They must continue to mean nothing.

#admin

9 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 17 days

Note

Hi, it's me, 🪞 anon. I come back again and I have a confession to make:

For the longest time ever since I fell in the rabbithole of the Sanctuary AU [by the way this AU & House Pet AU give me the biggest comfort and absolute joy to read], two particular fics stuck with me and that is the birth of The Fairy Tree & its first fairy. And ever since I read them in order a detail stuck with me: Yuu/Caretaker & Silver in this case are essentially the parents of the first fairy to be born with the dust of The Tree.

Malleus now takes care of it, he will watch over the new kingdom and its kin, but there is a subtle beautiful irony that the mortality of man, the same that snuffed out the first Tree, now brought in the world an essential immortal being simply because they put their heart and love for Malleus into giving him the second chance to do things right.

ANYWAYS, it stuck with me until now I just have to lay it out in the open I think of this fact late in the night and I get aches just trying to think of how things would unfold from there I HOPE YOU ARE OKAY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF WE LOVE YOU

-🪞

Hehehehe sorry for the late reply, I just wanted to keep this in my inbox for as long as possible, like a ferret hoarding all their stuff.

I like to think I'm doing a little better now, if only because I'm no longer waking up at 5 pm. It's, uh, yeah mental health is a struggle to keep on a balance.

But anyways... Thank you, I really, reaaaally love it when people take a closer look at my things like that. It makes me happy to see that my writing can catch people's attention like that when I usually write very fleeting things. They're small writings after all, usually meant to be read while, say, drinking your coffee. You know, like a morning newspaper. Heheheh.

#admin #sanctuary au

10 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 18 days

Note

As a request, could you please write a dorm leader slowly becoming a yandere throughout his lives in the Valkyrie au? Pretty please?

Took me waaaay too long to reply and I apologize for that. Buuuuut I'm getting back to the speed of things, so I hope you enjoy this subtle yandere stuff!

Scarabia 7

#admin

6 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 18 days

Text

Scarabia 7

Summary: An iridescent feather was all it took for Kalim to pack up his bags and drag Jamil to the kingdom of the faeries. Jamil has trouble understanding this odd fascination he has. In fact, it’s almost scaring him a bit.

(Trust me when I say this AU has not been exiting my mind. It’s been floating around in there, but for some reason my fingers could not get it out. The fingers and brain would much rather churn out other things. Weird weird brain. Hate having to wrestle with it so. Also excuse the errors, I am kinda sleepy.)

From birth until death, Jamil will always be expected to entertain all of the wills and whimsies of Kalim. He cannot deny him any request if it is within his means, nor should he scorn him when he clearly is making mistakes. A servant, a guide, and a source of comfort all wrapped up in one. And all he has to do is keep this facade perfect until the day Kalim dies.

…what a joke, such a thing won’t happen. His services will likely be passed onto Kalim’s child, if he even makes it to that age. And if not his child, then the next sibling. Retirement is a dream meant for the privileged, and so long as those privileged few exist, Jamil will be made to serve them.

Jamil cannot ask too many questions, especially when it carries the possibility of offending the master.

He cannot ask Kalim of the origins of that iridescent feather. Cannot question why Kalim has spent the entire week simply gazing at it. Cannot even ask if he can look at it, no matter how familiar it may seem to him.

His dreams, they don’t matter, so he must always stifle them.

Clearly this wasn’t his place, and all Jamil can do is sigh in frustration when Kalim locked himself in his room. And sigh even deeper when Kalim burst out his room one day, claiming he wished to vacation in the main kingdom of faeries. Wanted to see the sight where the most beautiful feather came from.

And off they went on a personal caravan. And onto the dark stone they walk.

“And what will you do with this bird, if you end up finding it?”

How silly. Jamil already knows the answer to it already.

“Hmm? Ah, well I’m gonna keep it of course!” And the smile on Kalim’s face was as big as ever. Any wider and it would seem manic, but that’s simply the way his happiness works. He feels it in all of its intensity, even should it warp his features into something almost unplesant.

“Though, with how big of a cage you purchased, I’d predict I’ll have to take care of it sooner or later, won’t I?” As everything does. Cute novelties always lose their luster within half a year. Such was the fate of Kalim’s private zoo when he asked for it for his birthday. There were other servants to take care of it, but it never sit right with Jamil to just, let them do part of the work when he can perfectly take care of it himself.

That and his parents scolded him for daring to slack off, even though he pulled multiple muscles in his back. He could never quite lay back on his chair the same way ever since.

“Oh no, I don’t want you to touch them.”

Jamil stopped his tracks, the frankness of Kalim’s tone and the never wavering smile on his face almost had him believing he imagined it. “…Kalim?”

Kalim paused himself, blinking before his mind was pulled from his thoughts. He waved his hands, fumbling about in his nerves. “Ah, I’m sorry! That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“Whether it came out right or not doesn’t matter. If you don’t want me to touch your newest pet, then so it shall be,” Jamil shook his head, sighing out in hopes the urge to bit his lip will also pass.

“Sorry sorry…”

What Kalim doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The role of the perfect servant isn’t something that Jamil can simply be. It’s an act, a mask, and every so often Jamil has to pull it off.

Kalim was always a heavy sleeper, even more so when he’s been drinking from the various wines he had Jamil bring. Under the guise of some jovial fun, Jamil coaxed Kalim into drinking much more than usual. No thunderstorm would be able to wake him up. Kalim once almost drowned outside in a storm like that, napping without anything to protect him.

Jamil doesn’t sleep in the same room as Kalim, but here he was nonetheless. He took a glance to Kalim splayed out in his pile of pillows and blankets, sighed, then continued digging through the various bags and luggage.

Finally, Jamil’s fingers hit something. He pulled out a large, gold gilded, black box with a keyhole in it. He didn’t have to look for the key. It was tied with a silk ribbon right at the bottom of the box. Really, Kalim needs to be more careful, but Jamil certainly won’t tell him so. Perhaps later, but not now.

He opens the box and he was almost… disappointed at the sight. The feather was dull. All the rainbow light that would scatter upon the surface of the walls when daylight hit it wasn’t there. The plumes still pulsed with those delicate colors, but it didn’t hold the radiance that Jamil knows he saw when it was Kalim’s hands.

From his dreams, the shape was the same, and yet it was missing just about everything else. What was it, beyond its glow? The lack of numbers? The sturdy feeling of wings against his body? The face that was connected to it?

Face… what face? No matter how hard Jamil tried to claw through his memories, that face he wanted to see was no clearer.

Even with his disappointment, Jamil plucked the feather and held it in his hand.

Only then did its glow come back. A kaleidoscope of colors flowed forth and blinded Jamil’s unprepared eyes. He winced and held the feather to his chest, just in case it woke up Kalim.

He waited, but only heard a snort and a shifting. He’s still asleep.

Jamil blinked, tears dotting the corners of his eyes from the brightness of it all.

There it was, the beauty he’s been seeking, that Kalim had been hoarding all to himself.

How silly. How stupid to be so taken by a feather. To have this simple item that was nothing more than a gift from a pen pal to Kalim to haunt Jamil so. To haunt both of them, actually.

Even with all those reservations in mind, Jamil lifted that feather and laid a gentle kiss on the body. It felt nice, feeling the plumes brush against his lips.

…he should put this away and go to bed. Kalim must never know what he just did.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #ask #drabble #scarabia #kalim #kalim al asim #jamil #jamil viper #valkyrie au #reader insert #yandere

74 notes · View notes

twst-drabbles · 1 month

Text

Jamil 15

Summary: You've had your fill of studying with Jamil. Now you just want to bother him a little bit. Embarrass him a little.

(So, I ended up relapsing back into my sugar addiction, which has obviously caused my writing high to vanish. So! I am trying to limit my intake once again. It will be a painful journey.)

It wasn't anything too tough, what you asked of Jamil. It was nothing more than just a review on what is the basic of basics, things that little kids and other young ones would know by heart without having to think too deeply on it.

"Quit with the judging silence, Jamil," you said when that look of exasperation briefly crossed his face, "did you forget? I'm not from here. Born in a world of exactly zero magic. Not hidden. Nothing."

You were being a bit rude at the time but you couldn't help it. Everyone around you constantly forgets this fact about you. Whenever you end up flubbing up a simple question that apparently everyone else could answer, your little group of first years either snort, actively laugh out loud, or baby you like you weren't a full adult.

So you figured, with all the approachable and semi-approachable people you knew, you may as well ask Jamil to teach you all about the basics. At least he'll have the sense to keep his frustrations with you inside himself once he figures out just how little you knew.

You were more than ready for him to reject you on the spot and say things regarding his chores and duties to Kalim. For that case, you were ready to just ask if he could write down some notes for the questions you had written down. A sort of pen pal situation.

But, to your pleasant surprise, Jamil nodded then texted you the details later of when the first tutoring session will be.

And so here you are in Jamil's room, sitting on the floor, doodling and highlighting away as you're being told how these magical gems form, how they interact with magic, how they help beyond just collecting that noxious blot, along with subjects beyond that.

"And this is where the equations come in," Jamil leaned down and tapped at the various magical sequences you wrote down to remember later, "See, magic is very tied into the imagination of its user, however, imagination as we know it isn't enough to truly draw out all of its potential. Think of it as, imagination being a basic soup broth, and magical equations are the spices that go into it. Magic itself would then be the taste of that dish."

You've been tapping your pen against your knee for the later half of the hour. It's interesting stuff, you won't lie. It's all easy to understand at least, but you can't help the boredom that crawls up after studying for over two hours already. You're very sure Jamil isn't aware of the time, simply caught up in his relaying of knowledge as you continue to absorb it.

Kind of strange to you, honestly. You'd think Jamil would be aware of it considering how he acts and deals with Kalim. Perhaps he's enjoying himself too much, being your tutor?

You look to his face, then see that were was weight to that little theory. Jamil was leaning forward, his own pen in hand as he scribbled down his own little notes in your journal, drawing arrows this way and that to help guide your eyes when you eventually need to look back upon it.

He didn't even notice how into your personal space he was. You could sigh and your breath would brush his hair.

You waited, just because you wanted to see if he would notice. But no, he didn't. He continued to scoot closer, adding in even smaller notes as he goes down the rabbit hole of basic information being broken down into even more basic part.

"Jamil." You leaned against your hand.

You can see the way his thoughts swirled to a stop. "Hmm? What is it? Did I lose you somewhere?"

"Nope," you lightly chuckled out, "Haven't you noticed? You're getting very cozy in my space. Practically sitting on my cushion."

Just to make your point known, you tapped your pinky against Jamil's own.

He blinked, looked down to your hand, to his legs leaning against your cushion, then to your face that was inches away from his own. He seized air into his lungs as he flung himself off. He scooted himself way farther than he needed to, would've probably hugged the wall if he didn't pride himself in his quick and near unbreakable composure. His face was pulled back in near horror at what he's done.

You laughed and leaned back on your palms. "Come on, I don't mind. Be as close as you want."

Jamil was quick, as always, to put himself back together. He smoothed down his hair, did some breathing exercises, then blurted out, "Let's take a small break before we continue. Please."

"Alright, alright," you waved. And Jamil fast walked right out of his own room.

Did you tease him too much? He was practically sweating under the collar. Couldn't even look you directly in the eye. If he can't handle this much teasing, you can only imagine how he'd be if you were to be merciless.

Well, hopefully you don't give him a heart attack.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #scarabia #jamil #jamil viper #reader insert

113 notes · View notes