#Twst Fantasy AU

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Everything's all fun and games until everyone assumes you're just being a Horny BardTM when you have, in fact, actually been kidnapped by a dragon.

🌶️ Obligatory Warning for Mild Spice

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

“Wow,” Ace whistled, long and low, and you fought a twitch in your jaw.

He and Deuce were certainly beat to shit, but not quite ‘hurled dozens of feet through the air and a roof’ level of shit, so your spell must have cushioned at least a little of the fall. The pair of idiots stood at the entrance of the cavernous room, shifting back and forth on their heels and faces twisted up in varying degrees of horror. 

“I mean, I know there’s a stereotype about bards and whatever,” he continued, aghast. “But, really? Really?”

You grit your teeth. The pointed chin resting atop your head shifted and you felt claws flex at your hips.

‘My friends will probably be coming back here soon to find me,’ you’d entreated, not five-minutes prior.

‘Your friends?’ the dragon had repeated, slow, like the concept of comradery was something completely alien. And then his eyes had narrowed. ‘Ah. They intend to steal you away,’ he’d said with all the indignation of someone who’d clearly forgotten he had literally just proclaimed his intent to the do the exact same thing.

Sparks had shot out from between his teeth, and the already too-sharp black nails tipping his fingers had curled into talons—ashy darkness trailing up his arms like a seeping stain.

‘What? No,’ you’d lied. ‘They would never. I’m sure they’re just curious. Whether I’m still alive or not, I mean.’

‘Oh,’ he’d blinked, that venomous ire seeping from his gaze as if it’d never been there to begin with. ‘I suppose that does make sense.’

So when your loveable idiots had eventually stormed in—swords drawn, banners flying—you schooled your countenance into something as placid as possible. Something that perhaps conveyed ‘I would love for you guys to help me out here, but also I would really like not to see the three of us become tonight’s entrée. So like. Maybe sit this one out.’ But whatever expression you ended up making clearly wasn’t doing what you were aiming for if Ace’s first instinct was to accuse you of Horny Bard Shenanigans.

Or maybe your face wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just the nearly seven-foot-tall, naked, dragon man draped across your shoulders. Who’s to say.

“This has nothing to do with that,” you snapped, ears burning.

“Do with what?” The newly dubbed Tsunotarou rumbled. He was pressed close enough that you could feel the worlds roll through his chest—annnnd you were going to stop yourself right there and focus very, very, intently on getting through this conversation alive.

“Human things,” you spluttered frantically.

“Ah,” he hummed, his chin shifting from the crown of your head to dip down and instead rest atop the curve of your shoulder. “You’ll have to explain it to me later, then. I do find our cultural differences very intriguing. You humans are so… new age.”

“Explain it to you later…?” Deuce frowned, and you could see the words zipping around behind his eyes to slowly put themselves together into a cohesive thought. He shot ramrod straight and whipped his arm out accusatorily. “You’re staying?!”

“Of course,” you said, with all the enthusiasm of someone with a knife held to their throat. You locked eyes as obviously as you could—hoping he’d get the message. “It’s in everyone’s best interest.”

You could see the pinched look on his face, the heavy weight of discontentment tugging at his brow. There was a war being waged in that man’s head—a battle between what lingering, frail, shreds of rationality and comprehension remained, and the desire to be a good friend and save our bard! Because mama said I should be good to my friends! You stared him down hard, silently begging, pleading, to just let it go. The fingers gripping his axe tightened and you could hear the leather of his gauntlets creak with strain. Tsunotarou hummed, something like amusement coloring the throaty rumble, and it tingled all the way from the tips of your toes to the cheek he was tucked up against. The claws at your side flexed—not deep enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that funny as the notion of a teeny, human, barbarian hurling themselves at a dragon was, it wasn’t going to be a good enough joke to earn said dragon’s mercy.

“Well, duh, you’re staying!” Ace interrupted slickly, sliding in front of Deuce and his burbling rage like a fox finally skulking from its hole. “Look at what a great new friendyou’ve made! You can’t just leave him here all on his lonesome, now can you?”

The low rumble skirting along your back melted into something that was very nearly a purr. Your eyes flickered to your captor’s face—or as much of his face as you could manage to make out, considering he had plastered himself to your side like an overgrown cat. His lips were curled back into that smug, contented, smirk—the tips of his sharp canines just barely peeked out over his bottom lip.

“We’ll come back and check on you, of course,” Ace continued. He waved his hand at the dragon, like they were old chums shooting the shit over a pint of ale in a tavern. “You know how it is. Gotta make sure they’re settling in all right—make sure you’re keeping with your honorable intentions and whatnot. How’s two weeks from now sound?”

“Two weeks?!” you wailed.

Tsunotarou grumbled, clearly also displeased. “I agree. That seems far too soon.”

“Two months?” the ginger countered easily.

“Ace!”

The dragon seemed to consider this new proposal quite thoroughly. You could feel his long lashes flick down against your cheek as his eyes went hooded, heavy—slipping back into his thoughts to ponder upon this newly proffered timeline. After a long, long, moment, he lifted himself from your neck and plonked his chin back down atop the crown of your head.

“That is acceptable.”

Deuce looked entirely unimpressed. You had a feeling you looked like you were about to shit yourself. Ace, naturally, seemed more or less content.

“Well then!” the traitor chirped. “We’ll see you when we see you then, yeah?”

You grit you teeth, but your gaze flicked to your other, kinder, friend and you bit back the slew of heinous insults brewing on your tongue. Deuce still looked more than ready to jump into the fray, consequences be damned. And you were not going to let your terrible, horrible, no-good, rotten luck end all his valiant attempts at redemption when he inevitably attempted to go toe-to-toe with the business end of a dragon.

“…Are you sure you’re gonna be alright here?” Deuce asked, face twisted up in distaste.  

There was a pissy rumble from over your shoulder.

“Do you doubt my abilities as a host?”

“Of course he doesn’t!” Ace cut in, ever the bootlicker. “And besides,” he drawled, elbowing his companion in the ribs. “You know how bards are. I’m sure this is right up their alley.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Deuce went pale—then green. Ace turned on you with a smile that was all vinegar. “Right?”

‘I should not let them be murdered horribly,’ you repeated to yourself past the crimson rage leaking into your vision. ‘I should not let them be horribly murdered—’

“Righteo!” you forced yourself to spit. And if you somehow managed to survive these next two months, you were going to string that red haired traitor up by his pinkies and feed him to the crows that lived outside your window.

Your friends slipped away slowly, hesitantly—Deuce looking like he’d been struck down by a horrid case of food poisoning or something else equally as stomach churning. Once they were gone, Tsunotarou lifted his chin from your head so that he could crane his neck over your shoulder and look at you more directly. Not that he had to try very hard, seeing as he was gigantic, whether on two legs or four.

“What was the small, ugly, one referring to?” he asked curiously. “About your profession?”

Your life flashed before your eyes.

“Bards are known for their hearty curiosity and drive to experience new situations,” you repeated, verbatim, from the little adventurer’s handbook you’d been gifted by Lord Crewel all those years ago.

“Oh,” he hummed, nodding into your hair. “Of course.”

.

.

The first major hurdle cropped up barely two hours later.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The dragon blinked slowly, as if mentally tallying through a list of human bodily functions to try and figure out just what on earth you were talking about.

“Ah,” he said after a moment. And then he began to melt away—limbs stretching and cracking, and porcelain complexion bubbling up with inky miasma so thick and dark it may as well have been tar. It was both horrifying and awe-inspiring to watch, like some great creature of old emerging from an arcane cocoon. And not two minutes later, a familiar, ebony, dragon was standing before you in all its glory.

He lowered his snout and nosed around your shoulders for a moment, snuffling and searching. And then he pinched your collar between his teeth and hauled you into the air.

You tried not to scream. Really, you did. But humans just weren’t meant for flying, let alone while suspended between the jaws of a beast that could swallow them whole. By the time you landed, you were so wobbly and windswept that you nearly collapsed to the ground then and there, bladder be damned. Tsunotarou warbled something deep in his chest, and you glanced up past the thin veil of icy sweat dripping into your eyes.

He'd placed you into a blown-out enclave that had probably once been a very nice hallway. And in the corner was the remains of what indeed looked like a bathroom. You straightened yourself as much as you could and began hobbling woozily towards what you hoped was a proper, enchanted, toilet and not just some block of stone with a bowl at the bottom.

There was an echoing thud from behind you and you jumped, startled, and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Tsunotarou had sat his massive head at the entrance. And he continued to sit there. Watching.  

“Uhm,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

He stared, unmoving. You sighed and squashed your fingers into your temples.

“…We’re going to have to establish some boundaries,” you said. The dragon’s gigantic, neon, eyes closed and opened—like a question. “Boundaries,” you repeated. “Things that we do on our own.”

The beast’s lips flattened into a grumpy line and he grumbled something unintelligible at you, spitting loose sparks from behind his overly long canines.

However, mouthful of razor-sharp teeth in your face or otherwise, everyone had to draw the line between pride and self-preservation somewhere. And having to piss in front of an audience was apparently yours.

You waved your hands in a shoo shoo motion and those amethyst crests flattened irritably atop his skull. He settled in further, the structure of the terrace groaning beneath the weight of his scaly chin. You worried your lower lip between your teeth. It wasn’t exactly like there was a door or anything that you could just, like, shut in his face. And beating him off with a broom or something like a stray cat was out of the question—just out of sheer impossibility. You were going to have to get creative here…

An idea popped into your head and you leaned forward with a charismatic little smile that you’d unleashed on so many traders, and shopkeepers, and unsuspecting bakers that it ought to be considered a weapon in its own right. You’d practiced it in the mirror for weeks.

“I’ll tell you a story,” you offered, and his slitted pupils rounded a bit—intrigued. “That’s what I was before all this, you know. A storyteller.” You had his full interest now, those purple crests rippling behind his horns. “But you have to close your eyes,” you said. “It makes it easier to imagine that way.”

He stared you down curiously for a heartbeat or three, and then Tsunotarou’s gigantic, luminous, eyes slipped shut.  

You sighed and plopped yourself down on the decrepit, stone, toilet.

“Once upon a time,” you began, sweeping your cloak out in front of you to give yourself at least a little bit more dignity. One of those crests twitched at the sound of swirling fabric, but his eyes remained dutifully closed. “There was a bard who made some very terrible life decisions—"

.

.

The next bump in the road came the following afternoon.

“People tend to wear clothes,” you said.

He canted his head at you. “I am not a person.”

Oh for fucks sake.

Tsunotarou was stretched out along one of the many, grand, banisters lining what you assumed had once been a ballroom—lounging in the dim light like a lizard sunning itself on a rock. Apparently, before your arrival, he’d very rarely, if ever, shed his wings and scales for this more compact form. And he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying spreading himself out across all the new surfaces that the change in size allowed him. Part of you would have thought it was a bit endearing—seeing this eldritch monster merrily falling into the ‘if I fits, I sits’ way of life. The other part was sick of nearly collapsing in cardiac arrest every time you caught sight of his very naked self reclining across some new piece of furniture.

“Yes,” you intoned, deadpan. “But you look like one.”

He blinked slowly, as if putting together a thought. “I see. The dissonance of observing a vestige of humanity which does not actually fit the mold of a human must be disconcerting to you.” He rested a knuckle lightly against his chin as he pondered. “In the same way I may feel uncomfortable if you took on the form a dragon with no teeth or tail.”

“Sure. Whatever,” you bemoaned. “Just. Pants? Please?”

He observed you quietly for a moment, amusement dancing across his features. And then he grinned, putting the pointed tips of those impressive canines of his on full display.

“Well I suppose if you’re going to ask so sweetly.”

He sat up with a stretch that was outright spitting in the face of your plea for modesty, and then spread his hands. His black-tipped fingers twisted gracefully, artfully, and the cavernous room filled with the scent of packed earth and ozone. Soft puffs of emerald light glided along his arms, and in their wake sprouted tendrils of sheer, silken, sleeves. Those dancing lights traveled merrily from his shoulders to his hips, and then back again—spinning magic into fabric like little, ghostly, seamstresses as they went.

The soft glow faded and the silk settled around him with all the delicacy of a cloud. It was stunning, certainly. A true work of beauty. With billowing sleeves that cinched neatly at his wrists, and swept into an open window across his front. The fabric wrapped itself snuggly at his waist and draped low enough to offer at least what should have been the bare minimum of modesty. It pooled across his shoulders, splaying out into a split cape that looked eerily similar to the wings he dawned in his other, scalier, form.

But this lovely new ensemble—as gloriously shiny and magical as it was—was still nearly fucking transparent. And yeah, the shadows curling along the spiraling silk did a decent enough job at obscuring what ought to be obscured. But at the same time, somehow this impression of cloth, of loose fabric that dipped below his collar bones and hung uneven and open across his pale chest, was worse than the outright fucking nudity. Scandalous. Like walking in on a seduction scene in a trashy novel.

“…maybe you should just do whatever makes you comfortable,” you managed to cough out, gaze slipping downwards of its own accord. And then more down. You gulped. “D-Don’t feel the need to change yourself on my account.”

He stared grumpily at his swanky new outfit. And then back at you. His lips pursed into a pout.

“You don’t find it pleasing.”

Your eyes rolled up to stare miserably, tormentedly, at the ceiling, and you began reciting every religious verse you could think of. Thou shall not steal or covet. In the name of the Mother, the Crone, and the Hallowed Throne. Head, shoulders, knees, and toes. Aye, Macarena—

“It looks perfectly nice. I just think that you have as much of a right to be happy in your skin as I do,” you reiterated. “I—I mean, you’re already keeping yourself human more often than not just so we can talk.” Which was true enough, but also mostly an attempt to make it seem like your concern was genuinely aimed at him and not your steadily rising blood pressure.

“…you’re incredibly strange,” he grumbled after a moment, his brow tugging low on his forehead. More pouting. “And impossibly frustrating to read.”

The heat radiating off your face like a fucking active volcano felt ‘possible’ enough to you, but what did you know.

“That’s why you’re keeping me around,” you reminded him.

Ten minutes later, he was sprawled out with his head in your lap, the ridges of his horns bumping your hips and inky black hair spilling over your thighs. Naked as a jaybird.

“Tell me another story,” he hummed, eyes slipping closed.

“Sure,” you agreed, gaze once again firmly locked on the hundreds of cracks in the ceiling. You’d probably have them all memorized by this evening, or at the very least have managed to count them all up a dozen times over.

You were halfway through some yarn about armies made of playing cards and worlds beyond looking glasses when Tsunotarou sighed, heavy and bone deep. Content. And then he turned to bury his cheek into the rough fabric of your traveler’s pants with a rumbling drawl that was not unlike a purr. His nose pressed itself into the inseam of your thigh and your brain fuzzed out like you’d been shot pointblank with a Wand of Lightning Bolts.

“Child of Man?” he huffed after a moment—one, neon, eye flicking open to glare up at you grumpily. “What happened then? To the cat that smiled too wide and the man with the mad hats?”

“R-Right,” you squawked. “Uhm—so as I was saying—”

You stared back at all those cracks and started counting again from zero.

[spadecentral]

📜 The Kingdom of Savanna [TWST Fantasy AU]

! requested: no ! a/n: im just silly

! masterlist: twst fantasy au ! summary: you’re introduced to the second of seven kingdoms ! reader prns: n/a ! warning(s): none(?)

The Kingdom of Savanna was not one to be ignored. Filled to the brim with burley beastmen, this was one place you would never want to get into a fight. The royals in the Kingdom of Savanna were just as big as their citizens, and definitely not as dainty as the ones in the Kingdom of Hearts. In the palace, there were four royals living there. The Queen, King Falena, their son, Prince Cheka, and the brother of the king, Prince Leona.

The family always seemed happy on the outside. A king who loves his family and his country, and a prince who takes charge of the military. But not everything is of great joy. The royal family of the Kingdom of Savanna had overspent thousands upon thousands of dollars, raising the taxes on the houses and putting the entire country into severe poverty. Prince Leona took charge to lead the kingdom’s military after skipping out on the crowning ceremony of his brother.

The kingdom has yet to decide if making the prince in charge of the military was a good idea. Because even though their defense has gotten stronger ever since he got that power, the prince had looked a lot more—and the citizens of the Kingdom of Savanna would never say this in a mean way—evil. He looked… out for revenge, so to speak. And while the people of the Kingdom of Savanna loved the thought of payback more than anyone, they couldn’t help but think that someone who had that much power and had the thought of payback was someone to always be feared.

But within the city itself, they’re more than their rulers. Sure, the people are big and strong, and somewhat terrifying. But they’re always willing to help out. Just don’t ask them for money. The thought of money and spending it or giving some away will scare everyone to their core. Their houses are struggling to stand upright; they cannot even bear the thought of giving some money away.

Though, there is one place that always seemed to be nice, no matter the price of taxes. It’s a pastry shop, where the baker that goes by the name of Jack Howl worked. He made things ranging from wedding cakes to teatime macarons and sold them for cheap prices so that no matter how much money you had to work with you could always buy something to eat.

The corruption from inside the royal palace will start to eat away at the remaining patience of the townsfolk of the Kingdom of Savanna. Sooner or later, the palace will be torn from the inside out.

! fantasy au taglist: @sxftiebee | @b0nkers-papaya | @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @ruggiethethuggie | @v-anrouge

send an ask to be put on/taken off the taglist!!

[yuri-is-online]

Traditional fantasy isekai au where:

Yuu is isekaid to Twisted Wonderland as a child, in a setting that's hundreds of years before the main game, and is adopted by a family there. Maybe Grim is a normal cat that came with them and gained the ability to talk and do magic out of a desire to protect his best friend. They grow up and train as a soldier of some sort out of gratitude to their adoptive parents to protect them, eventually leaving their place with Grim in search of adventure depending on where they landed:

City of Flowers! Yuu who was raised by the people who lived in the Court of Miracles and wants to get a job with the city guard to help fight for the rights of their adoptive home. They're helped by a friend they made as a child, the son of well respected parents who came to heavily rely on Yuu after the loss of his younger brother. Now a well respected legal student with his eye on a judge's seat, Rollo is hiding a deadly secret: he is a powerful mage and you are one of the only people who knows. He's also desperately in love with you and at real risk of going insane if something bad happens to the one good thing he has left in his life.

Land of Dawning! Yuu who hunts monsters along the coast line and finds a badly beaten merfolk on the beach and patches him up without a single thought. The man scolds them when he wakes, wondering why Yuu is so unafraid of what he could do to them now that he's awake only to be met with a shrug and a warning that poachers much less kind than Yuu are in the area who see non typical mer such as himself as monsters. Yuu happens to have a bounty for them. Oya? Jade says he's quite aware of that and what's more, they have his brother and a dear friend. Won't you continue to assist this poor, unfortunate soul in rescuing the only family he has left in this world? He doesn't have anything to pay you with. Something about his attitude makes you roll your eyes but so long as you don't have to split the bounty four ways you say you'll help. Pleasure doing business with you he says, and you both go to sleep that night confident you won't get attached to the other at all by the time the job's done.

Clock Town! Yuu who used to be picked on for not having any magic by the delinquent gangs only to find themselves in a party with one of the worst of the worst torn between being hurt Deuce doesn't remember making fun of them or impressed with how determined he is to turn his life around vs Deuce who absolutely remembers but has no idea how to appropriately apologize so he just makes it his mission to bring you home from every mission unscathed, even if it's at the cost of his own health. He swears he'll say it eventually, he just needs to find a way to not make an ass of himself by saying something stupid like he loves you.

Farm Kid! Yuu who gets recruited by Ace for his party because he literally can't get anyone other than you and Deuce and ends up being the glue that holds it together. Ace is dumbfounded as he watches you successfully recruit Jack, Epel, Ortho, and even Sebek without much trouble and hates himself for ever thinking about abandoning you as soon as he got better party members. Yuu who knows that's what he wanted to do from the start and resigns themselves to him leaving when Riddle makes his offer only for Ace to stay with Ramshackle Party because he's "too busy looking after them" to be a card soldier, hiding the burns on his hands from when he punched the Arch Mage for insulting you. He can surpass Riddle's party on his own any day.

[twstjam]

I am once again back at it with the random fic prompts

Fic where Yuu is Briar Valley's Most Wanted and though they ARE a criminal they were actually framed for this particular crime and their friends (the first years gang) all know this and help them hide. Even Sebek helps them (this causes Major drama later on ofc) and Yuu hides in some old ruins until their friends find proof of their innocence.

In the meantime there's this weird guy with horns who keeps showing up around the ruins. He doesn't know who Yuu is though, so they let him stick around and he keeps them company when he visits.

Some of their conversations, when not talking about gargoyles, go something like this:

"Hi Tsunotarou! Has that criminal that's at large in your country finally been caught?" "Good evening. Hm. I'm afraid not. How about you? May you return home yet?"

They both somehow do not put the pieces together.

(Alternate scenario: Fic where Yuu is Briar Valley's Most Wanted because their mysterious bestie Tsunotarou who lurks around old ruins and is actually the crown prince of fae fell in love with them. The wrong people found out about this and put a bounty on Yuu's head to have some sort of leg up on the briar fae royalty, but Malleus, in all his genius, said "I'll do you one better." and put an EVEN BIGGER bounty on Yuu's head so that he can have them instead and now it's a race on who can get Yuu first avdjdhdj. Meanwhile Yuu is just confused on why everyone wants them dead (they do not know Malleus is secretly their bestie Tsunotarou who's in love with them. All that they know is that the Briar Heir wants them hunted down for no apparent reason))

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

Technomaniac!Yuu

I'm just here to mix-and-match different kinds of Yuus with different kinds of personalities to see what monstrosity I can make. That being said,,, Technomaniac!Yuu brainrot! 

So basically this Yuu belongs in the High Fantasy Yuuniverse on the human side and they’re absolutely obsessed with technology and becomes unhinged when creating stuff. 

Mayhaps their family ran a robot-related business or a machine-creating business and that’s where their obsession started. Maybe Yuu’s obsession further increased due to the fact that they were a human being in a world full of otherworldly creatures.

In a world of high fantasy, there’s bound to be differing opinions and speciesism can’t be avoided. 

Some creatures thought humans were inferior due to their short lifespans. That they were greedy and ignorant. Some humans were even prejudiced to their own kind. Others thought humans in a more positive light, the fact that they were versatile and determined when it comes to things.

So Yuu with no magic and no super powers strived to be the best in the only thing they knew they could fully control and wanted to prove to everyone that humans weren’t inferior, thus beginning their obsession.

This Yuu has this cute little drone hovering over them all the time because I said so. The drone’s very expressive and acts as a kind of assistant for Yuu. 

So anyway, the day of the entrance ceremony?

Forget Grim opening the coffin, Yuu just ordered the drone to laser through the lid and then kicked it open. 

Seeing this, Grim became startled but then soon after demanded their robe.

“Beep! Threat detected! Determining threat level, please wait… Threat level determined. Warning: Threat level 5, initiating self-defense protocol.” The drone hovering over Yuu’s shoulder turned to an alarming shade of red but before it could do anything, Yuu waved them off gently. “Stand down, A1.”

Yeah, the little drone’s called A1 meaning Assistant 1.

Thankfully, a battle between the force of fire and laser never happened since Yuu saw no reason to wear the ceremonial robe because they felt their clothes were much better and gave it to Grim but only on the condition that Grim become their second assistant.

Grim, too focused on acquiring the robe at all cost, didn’t notice Yuu’s condition.

Anyway, guess what Grim’s nickname is. Yeah, that’s right. It’s A2 for Assistant 2.

Let it be known Technomaniac!Yuu has no penchant for naming. All that’s in their brain is making technological stuff.

I just suddenly thought of Yuu having Doofenshmirtz penchant for naming, just slapping ‘-inator’ at the end of their creation’s names.

Can you imagine an overblot and Yuu just pulls out this strange device and introduces it like:

Yuu: “Behold! Marvel at my ‘Insta-Knockout SlumberBlaster 3000-inator!’ Riddle’s going to definitely go down with this in just one hit!” A1: “With only an approximate 63% chance of dealing concussion! A massive improvement from the previous trials!”  Ace: “Excuse me, only 63%? Wait— Previous trials? Yuu, who did you test it on for you to get that statistic? Yuu? Yuu, come back here! Who did you test it on?! Yuu!”

Another overblot scenario would be…

A1: “Beep! Threat detected! Determining threat level, please wait…” Someone: “W… Why do you need to determine his threat level??? He’s literally about to kill us???” Yuu: “No, no, let my child cook.” A1: “Threat level determined. Warning: Threat level 10. Suggesting course of action: Run.” Yuu: “Okay, now we run.”

Let’s not forget holograms!

Imagine Deuce seeing Yuu facing away from him in the distance so he runs over to them and tries to gain their attention. He tries to tap Yuu’s shoulder but their hand just goes over Yuu’s form, leaving a slight glitch-like effect where Deuce’s hand passes through.

Hologram Yuu looks over to Deuce and says:

“Alas, as I am not here, I disappear.”

Then throws out a peace sign before slowly fading away while still maintaining eye contact.

Now that I think about it, on the first day of their janitorial duties, Yuu was able to make a weird-looking cleaning device out of metal scraps and pieces they found in Ramshackle and it somehow worked.

Well, for the most part anyway. 

Having no windows technically meant nothing to clean so in a way Yuu was doing their job, yes?

Yeah, Yuu broke a few windows and may have contributed to the chandelier also breaking that day so Deuce ain’t the only one at fault for this.

Speaking of, Ace’s first meeting with Yuu.

When he was introducing the Statues of the Great Seven to Grim and Yuu, Yuu turned to him and asked in the most serious voice possible if Ace wanted the statues to be animated by turning it into animatronics.

Ace barely managed to stop Yuu from dismembering the statues.

Technomaniac Yuu at literally everything they can see: “I can make it better!”

Giving broken things to Technomaniac!Yuu to be fixed is a gamble. 

Oh, a toaster? Well, you either get a completely fixed toaster that’s a bit better with warming your bread than before or it turns into a charcoal-maker. There is no inbetween.

Your phone? Oops, might’ve accidentally turned the flashlight function into a flashbang, teehee.

Technomaniac!Yuu is basically the tech support of NRC.\

Or more like tech terror. Tech-rorr, get it? I’m so funny.

Speaking of NRC, Yuu got banned from going to Ignihyde dorm.

That’s because they got too excited seeing all the new devices and technology they haven’t seen before in the dorm and kind of dismantled almost everything to see how it worked.

Ooooo, now that I’m thinking of it, cybernetic body modifications!

Like, what if they got severely injured against one of the overblot boys? Lost a limb or two? Or maybe they already had cybernetic body modifications even before they arrived in Twisted Wonderland.

Imagine them having an arm kinda similar to the robot arm Princess Bubblegum gifted Finn with the various power tools/weapons functions. There’s probably a rocket launcher function around there somewhere.

 Rook tries to stalk Technomaniac!Yuu but it always ends up being a hologram. Why do you think Rook calls them Trickster?

Wait, can you imagine the dynamic between Technomaniac!Yuu and Malleus?

One’s so bad at technology while the other’s the complete opposite.

Yuu asks Malleus if he wants his phone to be upgraded and suddenly Malleus’ phone has a built-in taser, ultra hd 4k graphics camera and video resolution, live tamagotchi game synchronization and surveillance, 24/7 AI assistance, unlimited wifi, faster internet speed, ultra deluxe storage expansion, the strongest antivirus known to to mankind, and Malleus still doesn’t know how to use his phone.

Yuu learns Briar Valley has technomancy and they’re immediately putting that place as a vacation spot because hello? Combining magic and technology? Can you imagine all the things they could create with those two forces combined? They’d be unstoppable!

Also, the Magicam Monsters stand no chance against Technomaniac!Yuu.

The moment those suckers break into Ramshackle, Yuu would immediately interfere with their gadgets and kick them out if they’re feeling merciful.

If not, well, say hello to the most vengeful virus they’ve ever met in their lives. 

No matter what gadget they change into, the virus will always follow them everywhere in the cyberspace network and break their devices or cause them the most annoying inconveniences. 

Slow internet? You betcha! Wifi symbol on but internet not coming through? Why, it happens almost every other day! Apps failing to open at the most crucial time? Lmao, rofl.

Speaking of gadget, Cater probably asks Yuu to upgrade his phone so he can take better selfies.

Thankfully the upgrade was a success and nothing exploded.

Yuu: “Well, here’s your phone, Cater! New and improved with better camera quality, efficiency, and effectiveness! Also, I hope you don’t mind but I also added an app that I occasionally use called Therapy Bot. Free of charge!” Cater: “Thanks, Yuu! Wait—” Yuu, looking around and leaning in to whisper: “Between you and me, I think everyone in this school could really benefit from Therapy Bot.”

Technomaniac!Yuu the most unhinged yet one of the most sane Yuu variants out there.

[facadep]

MalleVil forest snu snu. I had a dream of Vil being an elf and doing Malleus's make up in the forest and now they're being gay cuz I say so <3

[abysswalkersknight]

Art time!!! A final fantasy & twst mashup.

Since I'm playing ffxiv and am being tortured with endless tragedy as well as seeing all the amazing fics and art of Diasomnia I put this AU together somewhat.

Basically somewhat like ffxiv & ffxvi Silver and Malleus are vessels for primals (for those who haven't seen final fantasy primals are god like elementals that can be summoned) as well as Lilia and Sebek whose primals are not shown yet.

Since the full explanation is a bit long I'll save that for another post. Though I based this piece after the awesome fight between the phoenix and ifrit in ffxvi. In this case malleus has lost control over his primal and Silver is trying to snap him out of it while Lilia is trying to get them both to stop because they are utterly destroying the place, more angst later.

And since I know there is a lot going on in the picture here it is without all the lighting and that.

As you can see I used Lilia as a scale for perspective.

[gottabegenki]

🐉🌸  

  

Playing around with a new brush. And second Draconia Royal outfits for Malleus and Joellen 🤭✨💖 They only wear this when at the castle, meeting senators, and during other royal duties. 😌 Jo would prefer any dress style that is easy to move around in.   

 

Jo's hair up or down? Which is better? 🌸 

  

And I really want to see more Draconia royal family fashion 🥺  

  

[lovearchieved]

I just posted the prologue of my Twisted Wonderland Silbek (silver × sebek) Fantasy AU Fanfic ( your world (our ending)) that ive been working on for the last month or so! Might as well promote it here :)

Summary:

Silver has a fantasy book he reads over and over again when life gets hard. It's a comfort item for him, it practically saved him. And he might have a tiny fictional crush on the protagonist of the book (Sebek Zigvolt) ... sadly, all the main characters die at the end of the book. But when in the middle of his sophomore year of high school, he wakes up as a background in said book, he is desperate to save everyone who tragically dies at the end. (Totally not because of his crush. That's just a bonus.)

If your interested in reading it, its on my ao3 and wattpad !!! but heres the link to it on ao3 :D

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Lion's Pride [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: Your new job as a Full Time Royal Therapist does not pay nearly as well as you'd like. Or, Leona is more of a problem child than he would ever admit, but you're surprisingly okay at dealing with that.

[PART 1][PART 2] [PART 3]

Sometimes you felt like you hardly knew what it meant to be a functional person, living a comfortable life on the fringes of society. So in comparison, trying to think of what it meant to be an actual prince, ruling over all of said society was something you literally could not comprehend no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it.  

“If you’re a Prince, what were you doing in a hole?” you asked, because you had far too many questions and concerns, and this one at least seemed easy enough to address. And also because you were genuinely pretty curious.  

The newly dubbed ‘Leona’ twitched against your back and you felt the low rumble of his snarl work its way from the depths of his gut all the way up through his chest and out his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Ace wheezed. “Screw this. I’m getting out of here before I wind up implicated as an accessory in your murder.”

And so your trusty friend abandoned you to the wolves lions?—darting away so quickly he always forget his bag, shoes, and everything else in the process.

You waved after him as he departed, knowing full well that he’d wind up stumbling back within the week, maybe two at most. He always did, no matter how much he complained about your Present Company. Plain old ‘murder’ was actually one of his more polite accusations. When he’d run into your Hunter friend the first time, Ace had gone on a wildly incoherent rant about how he was going to find your corpse strung up in a tree like some weird, ritual, sacrifice. And then that had devolved into something-something cannibalism or other. The visiting Hunter had just thrown his head back and laughed, positively enamored with the grisliness of it all. Ace had vanished for almost an entire month after that encounter, but he did come back—glaring up at you with a miserable pout like you were the one who’d gone and fucked off for thirty whole days.

Leona snorted and you felt the puff of breath against the back of your neck.

“Coward,” he grumbled, though he didn’t sound particularly displeased about your friend’s sudden departure.

“Fear lets us be brave,” you responded, wise as a sage. Or maybe an old frog in a puddle.

“Yeah?” he intoned, rolling his eyes. “And when’s that little rat ever been brave?”

“There’s always tomorrow,” you chirped, and that snort turned into something dangerously close to a chuckle. Which—gasp!—how dare such a pleasant sound fall from the lips of someone so obstinately determined to be otherwise! You grinned at the low tones of it, only for the snickering to cut off sharply in his throat once he’d realized what he was doing. And then of course he shoved you forward and out of his lap with a great amount of indignant snarling.

You laid there for a few minutes—face down in the sun-warmed grass and laughing quietly about just how ridiculous this stupid Lion was, before finally sitting up with a pleasant stretch. He could put on airs all he liked, you knew there was kernel of something far less angsty and murderous buried at the heart of him.

“So,” you hummed, lazily making your way back to your feet. “What exactly have I done to draw the realm’s Prince to my doorstep?” You squinted at him suspiciously. “You’re not here about the fairy gate thing, are you? Because that was actually an accident.”

“The what?” he frowned, brow pinched in confusion.

You waved him off. “Ah, nothing, nothing.”

Something in his jaw twitched, like now he was going to push the subject out of principle of you being shifty. But he just sighed and brought a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“I need your help,” he said finally. Just as crabby as the first time he’d asked, if perhaps just a touch less imperious.

You arched a brow. “I think you’ve mentioned that already, yes.”

Silence.

The Lion stared you down with a slowly deepening scowl, and you stared back with a smile as placid and unmoved as the shallow pond you’d nearly drowned Ace in not an hour before.  

“If I apologize, you’ll help me?” he asked after a long moment, the question turning sharp at the end on a bitten of growl.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” you hummed back and he crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, with all the pleasantry of someone undergoing a root canal. And all the sincerity of Ace swearing that this was the last time he’d get caught evading the tax man, promise.

You sighed, feeling a bit cheated. But you hadn’t really stipulated anything beyond those two little words leaving his mouth, so if anything, that was on you.

“Alright,” you huffed. “What is it you need help with?”

The Lion glared at you suspiciously for a long moment—glowing eyes narrowed into slits and tail twitching back and forth like he was swatting flies. Finally, he sighed and lifted his hands out in front of him with a pointed flex.  

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” he frowned sourly, wrists twisting to display the pointed claws tipping his fingers. “I’m not supposed to get stuck in between.”

Your eyes traced the fluffy tufts of his round ears, the black-tipped tail swishing irritably at his hind, and allowed yourself a melancholy sort of huff.

“But you look good like this,” you pointed out sadly. Because he really, truly, did. Leona without his squishy lion ears would just be… grumpy. Miserable, and angular, and angry. Nothing soft worth coddling at all.

“That’s not the point!” he snapped, baring his overlarge canines at you. There was a darker cast along his cheekbones that seemed to be making a valiant effort to crawl all the way up into his fringe. “And don’t fucking say that!”

You frowned. One second this stupid dick wanted to be praised to the Heavens and back! Practically swanning about, demanding you bow down and acknowledge his blatant superiority. But, oh no. Apparently your meager half-sentence masquerading as a compliment was too much for his delicate, princely, sensibilities.

“Fine,” you griped. “You’re ugly.”

He growled—low and rumbling—and if he was anymore of a cat you’d say you could see his hackles raising in indignation. But before he could launch into another vicious, verbal, evisceration of your person, you cleared your throat loudly in an attempt to get him back on track.   

“What do you mean by ‘stuck in between?’”

He sneered down at you testily for a moment before reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose again and letting out a put-upon sort of sigh that was not at all indicative of the fact that he was the one asking you for help.

“The Shift. When you found me in that pit, I should have been able to Shift between that form and this one without issue,” he frowned, brow tugging down tight with something a bit more disquieted than his usual, flat, annoyance. “The iron was a problem, but once I was out of the trap, it should have been fine. I’ve dealt with cursed snares like this before, and the effects have never lingered as long as this one has.”

You blinked owlishly. That did sound… fairly unpleasant. And honestly, if you were in his position you’d also be at least a little concerned that something else was at play. But, still, all that being said—

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, more or less genuine. Perhaps leaning a bit harder into less.“But I don’t understand how that has anything to do with me.”

“You were down there with me,” he argued. “You dismantled the trap.”

Uh, yeah. By messing with bits that looked breakable until they broke. Not exactly a high-level intellectual pursuit.

You didn’t say that, of course. Because after a few days watching you scuttle about your homestead like a particularly vocal lizard in the dirt, you were sure he already thought you were stupid enough without you outright admitting to it. Nevertheless, the Lion observed your zip-lipped silence with an ever-deepening scowl.

“You took it apart,” he tried again, nearly a growl.

“Yes,” you said with a nod.

“You know how you did it,” he continued, firm. At your lack of affirmative, he pushed again. “You know. I watched you do it!”

You raised your hand nervously and made a little so-so tilting motion.

Anyone less refined would no doubt have had their head in their hands at this point, but Leona just curled his lip at you and looked like he was fighting valiantly not to put your own very silly head through a wall.

“It was charmed,” he spat. “Bound up with talismans, and cursed down to its very moldings. That isn’t something any random farmer could walk up and break.”

“Oh,” you blinked, taken aback, and struggled to recall if there had been anything so obviously enchanted about the trap you’d fiddled into bits. “Was it?”

And head had officially met hands. He ground his clawed fingers into his temples like you were a headache that with enough determination and massaging he may somehow be able to will away.

“Couldn’t you go just home if this is such a big problem?” you asked, still genuinely baffled at it all. “Get help from your family? I mean, you’re a Prin—”

“No,” he interrupted, emerald eyes gone glacier cold.

You frowned, as unimpressed by his prickliness as you usually were. But something in you was hesitant to prod at whatever it was that had managed to tug a feral rage so tightly across his face—like drawing a shade over a window until the entire home was cloaked in shadow, or slipping away behind a carved mask too heavy to ever wear comfortably. It was an expression so sharp and so bitter that if you hadn’t only just yesterday watched this stubborn man lounge about in the sun as your chickens hopped all over him like he was the world’s most carnivorous jungle gym, you wouldn’t ever have known that they could be the same person at all. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, and some of that angry, hunched, defensiveness eased into confusion.

“Hah?” he frowned.

“Alright,” you said again. “We’ll figure it out here.” He glared over at you balefully, and you waved off the obvious retort on the tip of his tongue about something-something-you have no idea what you’re doing-something-something-dangerous risks and lifelong consequences-blablabla. “I have a friend who would know a lot more about those kinds of traps and talismans that I do. He could help, probably.”

“Probably?” he scoffed. Though when he rolled his eyes, they weren’t quite so hate filled—lids hooded with a familiar, begrudging sort of irritation rather than outright malice.

“He’s a bit of an enigma,” you explained—wiggling your fingers in a little, sparkly, dance to emphasize the, well, enigmatic part.

Another huff. But amidst that grumpy bellyaching, you watched those fluffy ears of his slowly perk back up atop his head, and his tail swish leisurely behind him. The Lion certainly didn’t look happy (but did he ever? So was that really a fair comparison?), but he definitely seemed like he’d thawed into something less ‘frigid dead of winter’ and more ‘unpleasantly nippy spring morning.’

“Weirder than you, herbivore?” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you and crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “I find that hard to believe.”

Normally you would too. But, well…

“He’s charming,” you chirped pleasantly, and Leona’s face twisted up like you’d served him a bowl of rancid yogurt.

.

.

That night you composed a letter to your dearest Hunter friend. You thanked him for bringing you the White Moor Stag, elaborated a bit on the new marinade you’d been experimenting with, and then ended the whole thing with a polite plea for his aid in deconstructing the mechanisms of a magical trap you’d encountered. You bribed one of your two carrier pigeons with some snacks and watched it fly off into the unknown with a little, cream-colored envelope tied to its foot. Message talismans were much simpler and far more convenient, but the Hunter always seemed to appreciate the personal touch of postal birds.

Leona glared at you from the window, and made some dramatic swipe at your pigeon like he meant to knock it out of the air. The poor bird tottered about like an overfilled water balloon—jiggling and wriggling in its roundness before eventually righting itself and continuing on into the sky with a warbled coo coo.

“Don’t be rude,” you huffed at him.

“I can’t believe you still won’t let me in,” he sneered from beneath the fluff of that blanket you’d gifted him. “I apologized.”

“Yes, but you actually have to mean it,” you explained, not unkindly, as he prowled just beyond the glass. “But we’re making progress!” you beamed. “That’s something! Maybe you’ll make it in here within the next five years, hmm?”

“Or I could just wipe out the entirety of your ridiculous dirt farm now,” he threatened, a bit of that sandy magic swirling sinisterly along his fingers.

“You certainly could, your highness,” you agreed easily. His lip curled unpleasantly, but that glowing, gritty, arcana faded away and he didn’t move from where he’d tucked himself up under the duvet.

After another solid fifteen minutes of his pissy glowering and barbed insults, you pointedly unclipped the ties on your curtains and let them fall shut so that his ridiculous pouting was hidden away behind the thin, cotton, mess of poorly stitched flowers and herbs.

(You did leave a nice dinner plate on the ledge before that, with extra portions of meat and a neatly frosted cookie for dessert. Because as much as your day had been a bit rough, you had a feeling his melancholy extended far beyond being left out in the dark for another evening.)

.

.

The next morning, your doddering pigeon returned with an elegantly bound scroll—all embellished with golden filagree and tied up in a neat, crimson, bow.

“Why does this freak call you ‘mon cher ami,’” Leona sniffed, tongue curling awkwardly over the unfamiliar words.

You sighed and debated snatching the letter back, but all that would probably culminate in was the paper in tatters and a smug beastman lording his superior letter-wrangling skills over your head like a trophy.

“It’s just one of his little ticks,” you explained with a shrug. “I told you—he’s charming.”

“Ah, yes,” Leona drawled, tracing a claw along the parchment’s edge with a soft shhhhhft. A raised, white, line cut across the paper’s surface like the beginnings of a wound. “Waxing poetic nonsense in a foreign language. Rambling on about all kinds of useless fucking garbage. Charming.”

“You,” you snipped, reaching out to smack at his tightening grip before he could rend the poor correspondence to bits, “are not one to talk about ‘charming.’”

“Oh?” he scoffed. He maneuvered around your tutting to hold the letter over your head. Typical. When you leaned forward to try and wrangle it back, Leona leaned in closer—eyes going hooded and lips curling into a smug little smirk that promised all sorts of trouble. “Haven’t had any complaints about that before. Who’d be saying otherwise?”

“The person you left stranded at the bottom of a pit, you inglorious oaf,” you griped. His ears immediately swiveled to pin flat against the top of his head, and you used the distraction of his indignation to finally snatch back your prize. “Besides,” you huffed, straightening out some of the new wrinkles. “Not very Prince-like, is it? A real prince would have swept in to save the idiot in distress. Sword drawn, banners flying,” you sighed, a bit too besotted with your own imaginings. “Why did you have to be such a dick, huh? Ruined my fantasies for the rest of my life.”

“And what?” Leona snapped. “Some rogue bastard sending you cursive garbage does it for you?”

“Better than being left for dead in a hole after saving their life,” you smiled—perfectly, poisonously, pleasant.

Leona rumbled something indiscernible under his breath and turned to glare petulantly off across your garden.

“Besides,” you hummed, looking over the letter. “There’s more important things. Like this—right here. Do you know what a self-bored stone is? He’s thinking maybe there was a process like that with the iron shackles. Or maybe something to do with seeping the components in herbs… Hmm…”

“Whatever,” Leona scoffed. “I’ll try whatever it takes to fix this shit.”

You clapped him amiably on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, tête de noeud!”

“The fuck did you just call me?!”

“Poetic nonsense,” you chirped, and Leona looked half ready to drop you back into the hole where he’d found you.

.

.

The first attempt to aid the Lion Prince in his conundrum didn’t go particularly well.

You’d tried to work off of the whole ‘overlap with a self-bored stone’ theory, but all that really amounted to was you gesturing like an over-serious crossing guard for him to walk under every low hanging branch, every arch, beneath the stunted beams of the chicken coop. You dangled rocks from strings and waved around your little creations like slightly more dangerous pompoms.

Penelope clucked irritably when one of the pebbles fell with a plunk into her nest, and Leona frowned up at you from where the wayward chicken had firmly situated herself in his lap.

“How was any of that supposed to help?”

You drew a blank and promised to try something new tomorrow.

The next day you tried herbs. The Hunter had listed off quite a few that were known to cause lingering issues with magical creatures, and you harvested the lot of them from your garden with ease. You held them up to Leona’s face one by one, brow furrowed in concentration, as you waited for… something.

“How is this any better than the rocks?” he complained.

You pushed the bright, butter-yellow, blossoms of some Saint John’s Wort under his nose until he sneezed and shoved you away with a slew of indignant threats to your person.

The following few days were spent perusing your meager library. You carted every book you owned on magic, and binding rituals, and rune smithing out into the yard. Leona looked over at the slowly growing pile of tomes with a truly unimpressed scowl.

“You could have just invited me inside,” he griped, rolling his eyes. He was splayed out in the grass at your side, his head tossed lazily across your lap after he’d complained that he needed at least some leverage to see what you were trying to read.

“Nice try,” you hummed, reaching for your page of hastily scribbled notes. “But you’re not getting off without a genuine apology that easy.”

A week passed in this fashion, with you attempting to string together more and more ludicrous ideas—throwing everything you had at the wall and hoping something, anything, would stick. But Leona’s ears stayed tufted and round. That tail seemed to only grow more twitchy, his claws longer and sharper.

You sent the Hunter another letter and waited anxiously for a reply. When it arrived the next morning, Leona snatched it from your pigeon before you’d even made it out your front door. It was a miserable sort of day—pouring rain and with nothing but the grey cloud cover overhead to color the world.

He read it over once, twice, before dropping it to the ground. You could see the tendons twitching along his jaw, could practically hear his molars grinding in his frustration.

You plucked the note from the grass and looked it over carefully.  

‘Mon ami, while I am loathe to address this, perhaps it is not the make of this trap at all that is causing such a vexation? Is there any chance that rather than this being a lingering malady, that this friend of yours was simply unable to overcome the initial curse in the first place?’

You glanced back up at Leona, who was intermittently clenching his fists at his sides. You could see the harsh indentations from where his claws were digging into the skin of his palms.

‘Sometimes such things just happen, je crains. The flesh may be willing, but often the spirit is weak. You mentioned this Roi du Leon has a powerful family he may turn to for assistance. Certainly one of them may be strong enough to overcome this curse for him, even if he perhaps is not.’

“Of course it’s all because I’m a fuck up,” Leona snarled. Some of that spitting, sandy, magic of his seeped into the air. It bit at the rain like an overeager dog. You could see it dancing along his skin—fighting to pull his features one way or another.

“He didn’t say that,” you pointed out gently. “And even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with needing help sometimes. Your family—"

“—Would rather I keeled over dead and stopped sullying my brother’s perfect fucking reputation!” he snapped. “Heir to the King’s Roar,” he scoffed. “Stupid. I was never going to be a king to begin with. And even if I had been born first, they would have deposed me to put their flawless, favorite, golden boy on the throne anyways.”

That... That was a lot. You stared at the pacing Lion with wide eyes—unsure how to help, unsure if any attempts to do so would only make this worse. This was—this was so above your ‘happy, homey, hermit’ paygrade.

“Of course this is all because of me,” he hissed, that roiling, angry, arcana coiling around him like curdled milk. The pupils in his eyes flickered oddly from round to thin-cut, hard, lines. Beastly. “Of course it was because I wasn’t good enough.”

“Leona,” you tried, as gentle as you could be.

The Prince threw his head back and laughed. And laughed, and laughed.

“I should have known!” he cackled, borderline hysterical. “I should have fucking known!”

“Leona—” you tried again, reaching out a hand.

Only to be immediately knocked on your ass by an explosion of magic.

You’d heard of self-destruction—of implosion. The arcane wonders of the world were a wily and unyielding mistress. While creatures like Leona who were so naturally steeped in ancient magics and sorcery could control that beast more adeptly than some little mortal like you, it didn’t make them any less susceptible to its dangers. If anything, they had it worse. It was like sitting in a shallow stream versus wading out into a roaring ocean. So much more opportunity, such a higher aptitude for greatness, but far too easy to drown beneath the churning tides of it all.

The inky, geometric, swirls along his arms pulsed like a heartbeat. They crawled along his skin and traced black patterns into his veins. Even you could feel the horrible, dark, stickiness of it—as the magic ate him alive. His face twisted back and forth between human and animal, and you watched him contort and snarl under the weight of it before turning on you with a vicious roar.

Uh oh.

The first wave of magic seared the ground, leaving nothing but strange, grey, sand in its wake. The more he snapped and clawed wildly at anything and everything, the more that dusty desert spread. You managed to hop out of the way of most of it—sparing a single, sad, thought for all the poor plants you’d worked so hard to cultivate dying a miserable, grainy, death.

The next arc of magic shot straight from his clawed fingers, and it managed to catch the flesh of your forearm. It was sharper than any dagger or sword that you’d ever had the pleasure of accidentally nicking yourself with, and it tore its way down your arm like a raging beast, leaving an eerie, tacky, bubbling mess in its wake. And ouch did it hurt—like someone was taking a fistful of coarse sand and rubbing it into the open wound. You ground your teeth against the strange, gnawing, sensation and hastily wrapped a bit of torn fabric around the weeping gash to keep it a bit more contained. You waited for the worst of it to pass, for that initial bite to fade into a more manageable throb. But it didn’t. It just got sharper and tighter, hotter and hotter. For a moment it felt like your skin was crackling—like firewood popping and splitting beneath the weight of a blaze. From across the field, Leona made a noise like a hurricane given voice, and you bit back a groan.

‘Oh come on,’ you hissed to yourself. ‘Not now, please.’  

And while you’d been mostly referring to the Lion losing another brick of his sanity fort, your wound seemed to pulse at the command—a sensation not unlike the soft drone of the wards carved deep into the support beams of your dilapidated home, and an impression of words tingling along your nerves without any real shape or form. ‘Alright. Later then.’ Like a breath of wind along your fingertips. That pulsing doubled back, and the wrap you’d hurriedly tied around your forearm hummed low with gentle arcana.   

And then the cracking stopped. Just like that. Like it’d given up on eating you alive and decided to head home early for the day.

Huh, you though a bit dazedly, before hurriedly ducking out of the way of another swipe.

You clutched your still smarting but at least now functional arm to your chest, and Leona turned on you and your ethereal booboo with a raging snarl. But then that glowing glare caught on the blood trailing down towards your wrist in too dark, too thick, rivulets and his eyes went wide. It wasn’t much, but the strange bought of shock rocketing through him gave you a handful of seconds of ceasefire. You reached into your pocket with your uninjured hand and pulled out a thick bit of cardstock. This was supposed to be for emergencies, goddamn it! And you’d spent so much money on this stupid little thing! And—

You shook off the mildly delusional complaints bogging down your brain and unfolded the paper between your fingers. The sigils inked into it hummed against your skin, and the rain sluffed off its face like the cold and the damp were no bother at all.

“Fucking—” you flung the talisman at your ridiculous, rampaging, guest. It fluttered like the beat of a hawk’s wings and dove towards him with just as much vicious precision. “GO TO SLEEP!”

The enchantment smacked into his face with an echoing THUNK and you watched those too-bright eyes of his roll up into his head as he collapsed to the ground in a heap.

With the main source of all the Magical Warfare knocked unconscious, most of the miasma began to disperse—like dust caught up in a gale. The rain washed away the rest. It slid into the mud and seeped back into the earth. The plants and animals seemed to give a collective sigh, and some of your more courageous chickens even started to venture in close to peck at the leftover destruction.

You approached the felled Prince hesitantly. The talisman had been meant for subduing an enemy with a more human constitution, so you doubted it would keep him down for very long.

“Hey,” you grouched, poking his side. He twitched a bit but didn’t move otherwise. “Hey, asshole,” you tried again. Still, nothing. Uh oh.

You reached down to wedge an arm under him and hoist him upright. The singed skin of your forearm brushed along his jaw as you attempted to maneuver his bulk, and his nose twitched sharply at whatever scent was trapped in the dark, cracking, gash there. His brow scrunched up like you’d just doused him in spoiled milk, so naturally you went about waving your wounded flesh beneath his nostrils like the world’s strangest smelling salts.

After a moment he blinked back awake, face twisted up into the most properly disgruntled mien of distaste that you’d ever seen on a person who’d only just barely managed to claw their way back into the world of the living.

“Herbivore,” he rumbled, still looking more than a bit dazed.

Good enough.

You manhandled him back onto his feet as best you could—turning yourself into an impromptu crutch to try and get him mobile again. The sand shifted and sank beneath your heels, making dragging his ridiculous, dramatic, ass even more of a challenge. As you hauled him towards your cottage, you complained to him in earnest. Every little irritation under the sun. Half because you’d probably never have another opportunity to bitch at him so thoroughly without getting your own earful of grievances in return, half to keep him conscious—keep him focused on staying here. With you. And not… Wherever it was he’d gone in those moments of delirium.  

“I still don’t get why you call me that,” you griped, readjusting your grip on him when he’d started to slide down to the point his nose had buried itself against your collarbone. “Herbivore. I’ve cooked so much meat for you since you decided to crash here. Talked about how I prepare it, and the flavors I experiment with—I literally gave you some from my own sandwich when we first met! That I ate the rest of! In front of you!—”

When you finally herded him over the threshold and into your little cottage, the wards and their protection slipped around him like the soft current of a stream. You hardly even noticed the way the old magics ruffled his hair—and that was only because you were actively looking, half convinced the house was still about to toss up an invisible barrier and send him sprawling back into the dirt.

Leona wobbled on his feet, and his eyes were still too far away and grey.

You grabbed him by the ear and maneuvered his too-tall self into one of your rickety kitchen chairs. The wood groaned under the sudden press of his dead weight, but it didn’t collapse beneath him so it wasn’t worth fussing over. Once you were certain he wasn’t about to fold over sideways and crumple to the ground (or at least, that he was angled enough over a rug that he wasn’t going to crack his head on the stone floor), you rushed off to your bookcases and shelves and began hurriedly rumaging through your collection of nonsense.

The charms, the charms. Where were your emergency charms?! You’d thought you left them right there on the—Ah! There we go.

You pulled the raggedy binder from its place on the shelf, blew away the coating of dust that had settled over the top of it, and returned to your patient.

You flipped open the worn leather hooks and began sorting through the dozens upon dozens of sheets of enchanted parchment within. They were unimpressive—just small, rectangular, bits of faded paper inlaid with the softest kinds of magic. Not meant for much more than coaxing warmth into chilly limbs or placing a soft kiss over a scraped knee. But medicines were medicines—whether arcane in origin or otherwise. If you—if you just doused him in the things, that would probably work. Right? Of course it would. That made perfect sense.

So you slapped the first talisman square in the middle of his forehead. Leona swayed at the wet SMACK of the paper gluing itself to his soaked-through skin, but aside from the faintest, startled, widening of his eyes, he didn’t do anything else to complain. So you stuck the next charm to his cheek, and then another on the opposite one too.

“Magic overuse is dangerous,” you chastised as you went about layering a veritable novel’s worth of pasty, paper, enchantments up his arms. The soft spells worked their way into his skin, and you watched those twisting, black, shapes skitter back up towards where they’d once sat peacefully curled around his bicep. “Are you trying to kill yourself, hah?!”

Instead of snapping back at you like normal, he just sort of… sat there. Accepting your angry accusations in frosty silence. He absolutely looked like a cat that you’d fished out of a bag in the river. Pathetic, and sad, and droopy. And… quiet. So, very, quiet. You frowned, because as much as you didn’t particularly enjoy being insulted every minute of the day, the Lion’s biting little remarks had become… familiar, at the very least. Even if they weren’t entirely pleasant. Even if he was far from pleasant.

The dampness on his skin was starting to curl the edges of your talismans, and you reached forward with a huff to at least pull the freezing, soaked-through, vest off his shoulders. The leather jacket landed with a wet plap on the stone floor, a cold puddle already pooling around all its stupidly intricate, embroidered, edges. Something fluttered out of one of the open pockets—small, and off white, and crinkled. You stepped over the whole mess to retrieve a pile of towels and didn’t give it a second thought.

“Make a mess of my home, why don’t you,” you complained, dropping one of the towels over the entirety of his head before reaching forward to start drying him off with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. “Drip all over the floors I just mopped, why don’t you. Be emotionally constipated and almost turn my whole yard into a sand pit, why don’t you—”

A hand reached out to snag your wrist, and you let him pull you away from your attempts to rub all that stupidly thick hair straight off his head.

From beneath the curtain of the cotton towel, you could see Leona glaring at the long, dark, scratch curling along your forearm. It certainly wasn’t… nice to look at. The gymnastics of getting him into your cottage had managed to displace the impromptu bandage, so the whole of it was just there. Bruised, and dark, and odd looking. But ugly or not, it was hardly bleeding or anything anymore! And he was the one who had almost just self-destructed in your front yard!

‘Think of the accusations!’ you wanted to wail. ‘Can you imagine the garbage I would have to deal with if I wound up with a dead royal fertilizing my garden?! No thank you!’

But before you could complain about his fussing, his claws flexed against the soft skin of your palm and you saw the muscles along his forearm tense—like he was fighting to keep still.

“You should be dead,” he muttered, terse.

You huffed. “Look, I know you think humans are all sorts of pathetic, but I’m not that—”

“You should be dead,” he repeated, sounding as if the words had to tear their way out of his throat—scraping like shards of glass all the way up.

You stared at his dark eyes and dripping bangs—the shadows playing across his cheeks and the strange, hollow, wrongness that had settled over all of him. With a heavy sigh you plopped yourself down into the chair across from his and dragged a handful of the leftover charms your way. Pointedly, you took one and slapped it over the wound. And then another.  

“See?” you said, flexing your wrist in his grip to put the creeping, black, cut on display. The talismans glowed softly against your skin and the lingering whisps of darkness licking at the the injury began to fade. “All better. Not something a dead person would say at all.”

Leona frowned, but at least it looked a bit more annoyed than outright bleak. And besides, frowns were better than whatever that stoic, expressionless, numbness had been.

“Though I appreciate your concern,” you grinned, pointedly sharp and prodding. Like a toddler standing by with a stick, hoping to poke out a reaction. “Truly, whatever would I do without the Great Lord Lion there to fret over me?”

But instead of the acidic ‘I wasn’t fucking worried,’ that you were expecting, or even a more muted grumble of dissent, Leona’s brow just pinched in displeasure and your awkward attempts at teasing faded into terse silence.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost too quiet to hear—his head low and eyes lower.

You sighed and twisted your wrist around to pat at his hand. There was the faintest tremor in his fingers and you tangled your own between them to give him something to squeeze, something to hide the shiver of lingering malaise that he would no doubt deny with his dying breath. You observed the stern, tight, expression warping his otherwise handsome face—the miserable, puckered, angle of his mouth and the way the emerald of his eyes was cut through with a shadow of genuine remorse. You reached out with your other hand to pet at his soft, round ears. They squished flat beneath your palm and your lips twitched up into a fond, little smile. Leona tipped his chin just enough to glower at you from beneath his bangs with no real heat, and you sighed and gave him one more pat for good measure.

“You’re forgiven.”

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

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[spadecentral]

📜 The Kingdom of Hearts [TWST Fantasy AU]

! requested: no ! a/n: im just silly

! masterlist: twst fantasy au ! summary: you're introduced to the first of seven kingdoms ! reader prns: n/a ! warning(s): mentions of death/accidental murder

The Kingdom of Hearts was one of the best places to live. That was, in terms of the people who lived there. The city was always lively and the townsfolk were always bustling around, greeting everyone and idly chatting with one another. But the rules were so strict that they practically held you in a chokehold the moment you stepped onto its land. The Rosehearts family–the family which had held the throne for hundreds of years–had made 810 laws for the citizens to strictly act by. Guards dressed in metal suits were posted at every other block, as well as all around the town square to make sure that the people were doing what they were supposed to.

The royal family was made up of the King, Queen, and their son, Prince Riddle. On special occasions, they would visit the towns, such as the birth of their son, or the marriage of the King and Queen. Rarely would the royal family ever be seen in public other than that. Most of the time when the Royal Family needed something, they would send a letter.

But on the rare chance that there was something needed within the next hour, a boy around the prince’s age would be sent out of the castle. He was easily distinguishable with his green hair and gasses. Yet, no one had the heart to talk to him. Granted, they had never seen him speak to anyone but the shop clerks to say a measly thank you. But, their inquiry about the boy would have to be put on hold until they could muster up the courage to talk to him.

There was also a poor family also living within the castle grounds. A family of four gingers, a father, two daughters, and a son. They served as court jesters in exchange for their housing and food. They are brought into the castle once a month, to face an expectant court of diplomats expecting new tricks. The more fire, the more knives, and the more dangerous stunts the better. Sometimes the people of the Kingdom of Hearts could see the jesters working on their stunts on the palace grounds, and get a free show. Of course, there are always accidents that people bear witness to. Seventeen years prior, when the family had first moved into the little shack on the grounds, they were practicing one of their stunts. Throwing knives at an apple above someone's head. The people watched as the knife flew right into the woman’s head, killing her almost instantly. The baby screamed ear-piercingly loud. No one would ever forget that day.

Many people from the Kingdom of Hearts opt to become adventurers, to get away from the strictness set in place. Those people are essentially outcasted from the kingdom, their birth certificates shredded and their belongings burned. Such extreme measures were taken because to rid yourself of the rules is utter insanity, in the royal’s eyes. They deem anyone that disobeys the laws as people who have committed treason. If any adventurer would like to step foot back on the grounds of the kingdom, they would have a hard time doing so, because of the knights placed everywhere. And if they do somehow make it in, they should always have a place or two that they can inhabit, for guards are always vigilant when looking for them.

On top of the family’s ever-growing tyranny, the country had been at war with the Kingdom of Thorns for over 20 years. With having an organized military, comes a major responsibility. Although maybe not have the strongest knights, the Kingdom of Hearts is able to keep its men strong and lean, with its tough rules and their strong regimens.

Constantly at war with other countries, it is only a matter of time before the Kingdom of Hearts is at war with itself.

! taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @ruggiethethuggie | @v-anrouge

[yuri-is-online]

Traditional Fantasy AU! Yuu who lives with Idia and Ortho in a little town next to the dungeon tm everyone’s adventuring through. Idia's there as part of his duties with S.T.Y.X. keeping an eye on the monsters and the strange resurrections of mages the labrynth allows.

TFAU! Yuu who has no memories before being woken up by Grim in the bed Idia's set aside for them, but has a strange draw to the labrynth and a need to go somewhere in it.

TFAU! Idia who gently forbids them from going, and tries to distract them by teaching them how to make and upkeep various machinery adventures might need, but still insists on teaching them how to shoot a gun. Just in case.

TFAU! Ortho who sneaks out to adventure every once in a while and tells Yuu all about the dungeon and convinces them they need to go even more. They talk about how much fun it would be to go through the floors with Idia, and try to come up with ways to convince him to come with them.

TFAU! Yuu who finds themselves in the Adventures Guild one day to drop off an order and see a red headed idiot talking about what easy money the job he's looking at will be and they can't help but laugh.

"Can't you see it's a scam? That's waaaay too much money for such a simple job!"

TFAU! Ace who gets really mad and starts an argument with the local magicless weirdo about how he could totally do this job, they just wouldn't know because they're stupid, which causes a fight between him, you, your cat, and some random fighter who swears he just wanted to talk things out (promise!) that breaks a bunch of expensive items in the guild and now you have to take the job or go to jail.

TFAU! Ramshackle Party of first years all really happy with their unexpected success in the dungeon... until Idia shows up clearly worried out of his mind over Yuu and legitimately angry that they went into the dungeon, equally terrified when Ortho confirms he's been sneaking out too.

"Promise you'll stick to the upper levels. And no entering melee. And keep together. And-"

TFAU! Idia who goes back to his desk and stares at a letter he's been meaning to send since you woke up months ago, hands shaking as he thinks about what the others will say if they find out he's been lying about your condition. If they find out he's letting you go back there again.

Traditional fantasy ayuu where there is something clearly wrong with Yuu but no one notices until it's almost too late.

Again.

[toconolaw]

Puzzled comatos

Triggered warnings in tags, I know some of y'all be lying about age but please aware of what you read. I myself am not sensitive on these topics but others might be so please read my tags before reading, now this peice of writing it not that bad just small hits here and there. Enjoy! My rules

"Let's fall in love!" [name] said so abruptly to the man in front of her. The man was confused but not caught off his guard by her ladyship's words.

The man felt a sort of sorrow for the ladyship he sees before him. He bowed respectfully to the princess. "My apologies ladyship but I do not have eyes for you. I am just a knight." He proclaimed loud enough for just her to hear just in case if the walls were listening...

[name] looked saddened by the result to her statement. But nonetheless nodded sheepishly to indicate that the said knight was dismissed. "Maybe in another life, hm~ Knight Sebek." She then turned to the way of her chambers and soon when inside her room.

The knight did not respond to that statement. He was currently conflicted by the princess's actions. This wasn't the first time [name] has done this. Even the rest of the royal family knows. Everyone assumes she was super fond of him.

Seeing nothing wrong with that, Sebek become her play-mate, bestfriend, and even loyal servant. Yes, he would lay down his life for her ladyship but that was expected of him to do so. It was in order to protect her ladyship from harmful behaviors and even magical items.

The princess was isolated but not because of neglect. But because she was allergic to magic. Magic itself can kill her. To the normal person it can kill them yes, but she can't even be near people with magical auras. This is why the royal family was surprised to see Sebek being close to [name].

[name] was so so happy to now have someone to play with or to even talk to face to face and not on paper. She easily fell in love with her personal knight. She started courting the man when she realized her own feelings towards him. When they both turned fourteen of age.

Now they are now sixteen years old and he would always reject her. At first she thought he didn't understand she was doing but she soon realized he in fact did know. But she still tried.

She was told by her mother that she would never be able to marry. Not with how weak she was... She can't even stand next to someone with magical pressure for seven sake without almost dying for a week! "Words on paper hurt so much.."

As harsh as those words were. Her mother was correct. She wouldn't be able to make the next generation of royals... Even though she is the first born of her family, it was now going to be one of her siblings. When they seem fit to assent to the throne.

She was devastated when her own father told her again by a letter. She felt it was unfair. The people of this kingdom deemed her a title. A title one should hold with pride but it wasn't an amazing one it was one she hated. As it remained her of the situation she was forever in... "Princess Unfortunate"

There was a way out of the life she was in and that was death. The lovely lady [name] has been contemplating on how to die.

'Now how do I make it look like an assassination...' she was deep in thought. As she was having some hot tea, Te de Oregano to be exact.

[To be continued] ch.2

Idk what I am going to call this fic yet but please do give suggestions! <3

-love 🌮🌹

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

I've already actually had ideas similar to this but I've never really gotten around to writing it but!

Yuu AU where Yuu comes from a high-fantasy world. All kinds of creatures, whether mythological or not, exist in Yuu's world and aren't limited to humans. Additionally, humans aren't powerless because some of them actually have superhuman abilities and even magic. Kind of like the world building in 'I'm Not This Kind Of Hero' (check it out, it's a classic and makes me feel old) or Medusa and Futakuchi-san by Makise Shaun. Also, now that I think about it, it’s similar to Monster High but the atmosphere’s different. Monster High’s more on the creepy-cool theme while this one’s a more wider and diverse side. Same concept, different font.

Human, elves, dragons, dwarves, nymphs, slimes, fairies, humanoid, non-humanoid, whatever species it is, exists back in Yuu's world. Imagine Yuu belonging to one of these species.

Yuu as a giant merperson like Shirahoshi from One Piece. Of course they aren't in their  true form when they arrive because they won't be able to fit in the Mirror Chambers otherwise. Yuu definitely has the advantage when the Octavinelle arc comes up because they just steamroll past through the twins with a flick of their tail, lmao.

Yuu as a harpy. If they're the type that can lay eggs, imagine having to explain to Deuce that no, the egg they laid wasn't fertilized so it wasn't going to turn into a baby, calm down. Oooo, now that I think about it, variations of harpies! Owls, crows, eagles, everything! Regardless, Harpy!Yuu probably puffs up threateningly every time Crowley's somewhere in the vicinity.

Yuu as a dragonkin. Are they the Western type with the more lizard features? Are they the Eastern type with the more noodle-like features? Are they able to completely turn human or are they the type who constantly has their draconic features out? Probably either sees Malleus as a threat because of territorial and hoarding instincts or tries to hoard Malleus themselves because kin instincts. Well, depending on the type of dragon Yuu's gonna be, that is. Some dragons are solo creatures while others are more social.

Yuu as a slime. Whether they're more humanoid or just a round ball of goo, this Yuu's just vibing. Virtually zero damage can be done to them since they always just reform unless they're met with their weakness. Of course, this also depends on what kind of slime Yuu's gonna be since there's like a ton of slime variants out there. Some are infused elementally, some are infused with something else like metal, poison, acid, whatever. Oooo, just imagine a tiny ball of blob that can fit on the palm of your hand. This Yuu would probably be used as a stress ball a lot, that is if Yuu allowed it. Imagine a Yuu slime variant that doesn’t speak but instead wiggles to communicate. 

Yuu as a shadow creature. Which when faced off against the overblots just utterly decimates them immediately because not only are they a creature of the shadows, they are the shadows themselves. Kind of like Pride from Fullmetal Alchemist minus the eyes. Just imagine seeing your housewarden overblot and having this ink creature menacingly looming behind them and then see an even bigger creature appear and loom behind them. 

Yuu as an android, kinda like Ortho. I feel like this Yuu is the type to give Ortho a gun and be like, “Go, commit crimes, child.” This Yuu is probably a walking, talking military-grade bioweapon. Was definitely a big headache for Idia in STYX because Yuu hacked and overrode the systems.

Yuu as an arachne (spider-human hybrid). They just arrived and someone in the Mirror Chambar already fainted, frothing at the mouth (It was totally Jamil). They get Ramshackle and was like, ‘Score!’ and now it’s full of spiderwebs everywhere. It looks even more haunted than before, they’ve made themselves completely home. I don’t know why but I imagine this Yuu being the cheerful and energetic type.

Of course, let’s not forget the possibilities for the human variants of Yuu. Mad scientist Yuu who likes creating androids and robots. Probably has these tiny drone things hovering around them that shoot out lasers and practically doesn’t step outside Ramshackle because they’re too busy trying to build stuff until Crowley forces them out. Magic user Yuu who, well, uses magic. Probably doesn’t need any wand to cast spells and their magic is probably more versatile than the magic in Twisted Wonderland because they virtually have no limits in casting whatever aside from their limited mana.

Anyway, High Fantasy!Yuu.

[otomes-world]

If twst had a fantasy setting…

Heartslabyul is definitely a mini-village or town with Riddle in full power. He is assisted by Trey, his the right hand, and Cater, who is responsible for surveillance (tracking). He got his position in a fair fight. With his leadership, peace and order came to the lands that once represented chaos. Although the newly arrived residents like Ace and Deuce will not agree with this. Their village is too distinguished by respect for the rules, unlike others.

For example, Savanaclaw. A city, or better to say a pride, in which the strongest rule over the weak. The fate of a simple traveler who wandered into the territory of Leona is unenviable. One who inadvertently ends up here, can only regret. It's stupid to celebrate a victory if you're not torn apart by monsters. They must have retreated in fear of Ruggie or Jack. Whom to meet for greater luck is up to you.

However, why would anyone willingly go to the Wild Lands? Why.. if you can walk along the shores of lake Octavinelle crystal clear blue water. This is how the reservoir appears. However, traveler, you have nothing to be afraid of exactly as long as you do not decide to enter the water. As soon as this is done, the previously calm lake will begin to change its appearance, like a sleeping predator. The water will darken, and long shadows will rise from the bottom, dragging you down. There is no information about those that never surfaced again.

Brr…that's exactly why you kept running your finger across the map. Not far from the lake lies a cruel desert that has ruined many lives. To overcome it - that's real luck. But if the heat and the scorching sun do not kill you, then one careless step towards the lake, which appears like an oasis, will be a fatal mistake. Although if you would go, the faithful servant of Al-Asim family, which proudly positioned among the sands of Scarabia, will slit your throat.

You took a deep breath and tried not to lose hope. There was a place somewhere where you could find shelter, right? So your gaze was attracted by a dense forest, in the middle of which, like a pillar of light, a castle towered, more like a fortress. Pomefiore is known for their cold attitude towards outsiders, especially those who do not meet the expectations of their head. Vil, like a peacock, rightfully took the throne and for several years has been maintaining the image of beauty. To see him with at least one eye is the dream of careless onlookers, because before you could stand near the King, you need to go through his hunter. Even if by some miracle you manage to avoid meeting the Rook, hunger and thirst will do their job. One bite of the scarlet apple offered by the cutest youth and you will be a dead.

On one side of the castle is a cave. No matter how deep you go in the hope of seeing something, the blue lights will take you further and further. At one point, you will realize that you can no longer find a way to the surface. It`s okay, your eyes will quickly get used to the darkness, and you will see the hidden beauty of the dungeon. Perhaps Idia, head of the Underworld Ignihyde, will persuade you to stay forever.

If by some miracle you manage to make your way up to the light, then do not rush to relax. It is possible that around you will find dense thickets of Diasomnia thorns. One touch on them is enough to break through the skin and make it bleed. Be careful, because there are guards of His Highness roaming nearby, who will indiscriminately cut off your head. However, you are fate`s favorite one, and instead of them you saw green fireflies. Malleus, the crown prince of these lands, unexpectedly finds your company pleasant. The road was exhausting, why not relax in his castle? You have nowhere else to go anyway.

[flipppyflopp]

Currently holding a DTIYS over on my Instagram @flipppyflopp featuring Sebcroc! Feel free to go over there and join, deadline is January 31! ✨

Also this might become a new comic au because I have so many ideas for bat Lilia, dragon Malleus, and crocodile Sebek 🤡 Of course there will be angst because it’s me, but also some cute family moments. Kinda want it to be all the fae of the kingdom of Diasomnia are cursed to be animals by a wicked sorcerer trying to eliminate magic, Rollo, who brings a strange flower to remove magic. Nobody has heard word from Diasomnia and assume all is well until Prince Vil of Pomefiore encounters a mysterious human emerge from the forests of Diasomnia. Silver ends up on a journey to break the curse and save his family with the help of other kingdoms 👀 I’m just rambling at this point, but feel free to ask me about it in my inbox!