#twistedlegacies

[valiantroyalty]

Anonymous asked:

[ From @twisted-legacies . Sorry about the anon. It's a side blog. ]

❛  wait! we can't- ❜ a girl with brunette hair wrapped in a ponytail came running up to the ebony haired princess in yellow, red and blue before she stopped herself after looking at the princess' face.

❛  oh Magic, i’m so sorry, i must’ve mistaken you for somebody else.  ❜  the girl said, as she backed off from Snow White with a shy look on her face, like she clearly was embarrassed she mistook Snow White for someone else.

Snow was a bit startled at first and her face contorted into one of worry. This was the first time she recalls being mistaken for someone else but that wasn’t the matter here.

“Oh, that’s quite alright. Are you lost? I can help you look for someone!”

[forgedxhearts]

@twisted-legacies asked: *slams open door* HAPPY DAY OF COMING INTO EXISTENCE! I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR EXISTING!

(( AWWWW THANK YOU! ;w; ))

[disc-arch]

@twisted-legacies

Nieve let out a noise of frustration, throwing herself angrily on to one of the couches in the Ramshackle dorm’s sitting area. It was firm, and not very comfortable, with entirely too much give to the cushions as most old sofas usually have. She was sure that Uncle Dire would say something about how they were antique or vintage, or some other word that people use when they want old and worn out things to sound appealing. But really they were just old. She loved her uncle, she really did, but sometimes it seemed like he was hell bent on doing as little work as possible. And updating their dorm, which so badly needed it, was clearly something he had been managing to avoid. 

“Sometimes I hate this place. No one even likes stipes anyway. What a stupid couch.” 

She pouted and grumbled into the very cushions she was insulting, her hand idly finding a split in the seat and picking at it. Her annoyance wasn’t at the couch, of course. She wasn’t that melodramatic. But something needed to feel her ire, and she couldn’t exactly go around yelling about what was really bothering her. The last thing that she needed was her uncle or brothers finding out that she was being picked on. And on top of that, she couldn’t let it get back to the bullies either. She refused to let them know how much they affected her. She had to stay strong. She was a fae, damn it! She might not have magic like the rest of her people, but she had pride! 

And so, here she was. Complaining into a stupid old couch. 

[twitchytailor]

Chuka, chuka, chuka. The repetitive sound of a sewing machine being hard at work from within the personal work room. Harold came up with an idea for a wedding dress that seemed suitable for sale and began to work almost immediately. Yet he stopped hearing someone enter. Glancing over one shoulder before getting up and taking a couple steps into the main area , offering up a smile.

" Oh hello....on.. time I believe. "

@twisted-legacies

[magatsunohana]

@twisted-legacies sadi: Quentin vc running in with affection and her love for Jiyuu: I'm about to end this woman's whole thought on that.

Her Quentin senses are tingling. If she catches her, there's gonna be a whole bunch of love and affection here. She's had enough for one day. Rain check, rain check!

"CAW!" Attack Diablo, in coming.

[queensconquest]

@twisted-legacies​ said:  [ 📞/Phone ] "Uh, Vil. Sorry to bother you while you're busy, but, uh, Something Happened." A voice on the other side of the line said, clearly nervous about something.

( PHONE STARTERS )

   He  was  supposed  to  be  working  on  a  new  modeling  shoot  ,  only  to  be  alerted  by  staff  that  his  phone  was  ringing.  Needless  to  say  ,  Vil  wasn’t  thrilled  on  the  matter  ,  but  if  someone  called  him  during  work  ,  then  it  must’ve  been  important.  Otherwise  it  could  have  been  a  text  that  he’d  answer  when  he  got  to  it.  Should  it  be  anything  unimportant  ,  well  ,  the  recipient  would  be  punished  regardless  of  which  dorm  they  belonged  to.

   “  What  do  you  mean  something  happened  ?  “  Lips  curved  down  into  a  frown  as  he  checked  his  appearance  in  the  mirror.  Perfect  ,  as  always.  “  If  something  significant  has  happened  ,  now  is  not  the  time  to  be  vague.  Just  say  what  it  is.  Otherwise  alerting  me  was  entirely  pointless.  

[strcped]

[ From @twisted-legacies. You FOOL! You don't give me this prompt and expect me not to ask about Divus and Harold's love life based on what I know from the novel and from the play. So. Ahem. *Housewife voice*: Gimme the details, sister. ]

Professor Crewel! I have a question about you and Professor Harold's relationship. I've. . . heard rumors among. . . the students, let's say. . . that you and Professor Harold only married because Professor Harold was once one of the best furriers in the world and Professor Harold from a rich bloodline you wanted money from. . . and you're. . . Not very nice to him behind closed doors. Is it true?! Please tell me it's not!

Come bother my muse about their crush/ships in my inbox! (Accepting)

" rumours about the teachers. My my. There is not a single trained puppy amongst the litter. " Divus drew out his words yet there was a hint of anger behind it. A warning which even he knew would not be taken seriously at all. This was simply students coming up with baseless rumours for gossip. It all paled in comparison to the rumours they dealt with at the beginning and even to their marriage. Both arms were crossed.

" I met Harold when visiting a random tailor shop. He was simply an assistant back then. It took a while for him to take over and quickly improve to the renowned status he has today. I am more blessed to have married someone so talented...and he did not grow up rich. His family apparently were from the poorest section of the country. Not that the fact is anyone's business... Seriously? I am being accused of that treatment?! What baseless accusations. The worst thing I have done is accidentally put pepper in his food but I apologised for it. "

[aesthetiquement]

[ From @twisted-legacies about. . . Our Unique Magic Talk on Discord. While the Unique Magics are very different, you're right, they seem to serve the same purpose! I like it a lot! ] A girl with brown hair and black streaks passed by Meisha Maxene tir Latkje as the two walked in the hallways to their next hallways, The girl with two matching black streaks didn't seem that remarkable at a first glance, especially compared to others around her-Her uniform was decently done, she seemed to have put on enough makeup to look decent. She wasn't making a big deal of herself either-She seemed just your average student with nothing that special about her. Wait. . . Was that the Ramshackle dorm logo on her arm band? Could. . . Could she be. . . The Prefect of Ramshackle? Or a member of Ramshackle at least?

In truth, she wasn’t actually part of Ramshackle. Not officially, at least. By associating herself with some residents there, she became close enough that she may as well be an honorary member, and that is how and why she has their uniform. As for why she is dressed in one... well, call it a whim. Seeing someone pass her by made her blink a few times before looking over at them and confirming what she just saw. Whether or not she’s ever made a point to introduce herself to someone in person before, she would know every student’s name in this school. This one was different, though: as opposed to a lot of people in the college, she was fairly simple. Plain... And Simple. She needs to have a word with her. “Hey! Are you a new student, by any chance?” she chirped, trying to catch up to the other person.

[xxyumeno]

[ From @twisted-legacies ] Quentin has come to hug all of the TWST muses and OCs (The list is super long and I tried to list them all but Tumblr said not today Selena.) and I also come to hug you Yin! Happy April Fools!

            ❝ Well well well~ Didn’t know you fancied us so well~ ❞ he totally didn’t just wiggle his eyebrows right now, but Cater did.

( a hug right back at you! April Shenanigan filled day for you~ )

@twisted-legacies + quentin &&. unrpompted interaction // always accepting // can be continued

[pomfiores]

[ From @twisted-legacies ] Quentin hugs Vil! and Selena follow suit with Monique! Happy April Fools!

    The queen raises his hand as if to evade Quentin's abrupt hug but it's too late. His efforts are fruitless. He doesn't shove her away, perhaps patting her on the arms as it's the best he can do ( seeing as his arms were also restricted in the embrace ). This isn't the first time someone's excitedly hugged him. Not for ... April Fools, however.

             " Hmm.  I don't think you understand how April Fools works. " Well, that's all right.

[forgedxhearts]

Anonymous @twisted-legacies​ asked: Hey Niinii! It's me, Selena from the discord server! I've come to make good on my promise. Quentin has come to give Waverly a hug, and I come to hug you Niinii! Happy April Fools!

(( rghueihgruifjui I accept thy hug!        thank you and happy April Fools day to you as well! uwu ))

“Aww, thanks. Isn’t this a special day~”

[magatsunohana]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

@twisted-legacies || cont'd from x

“Oya, oya. Was this too early of a lesson for you to take after all?” Crowley strummed at the base of his chin thoughtfully as he looked at the girl who sat silently in the middle of the room. “Well it’s not like we can do much about it now, because I’m sure that like this, you’ll be able to handle it well enough.” Clawed fingers would fondly, but carefully strum at Jiyuu’s hair then, not unlike a collector admiring some sort of antique toy.

The bone chilling screams from within the Headmaster’s office had died down after quite some time and was then filled with silence. What followed it however was a simple humming, slightly cheery even, if anyone were to ever hear it.

===

Having lived the life that she did, Jiyuu was not unfamiliar with atrocities and crimes at all. In her younger years, she would be forced to live in the company of people who lead an odious lifestyle all for the sake of survival. So things like violence, torture, and unfortunately death was an ordinary day on a bad day-- and when was it never a bad day for her then? The visions that play before her very eyes evoked feelings that surpassed the very first time she saw someone beaten brutally to death before her, surpassed the feeling of having to hide a body through any means possible, trumped the feeling of having been made to commit such a thing for the sake of her boss’ business.

She didn’t know if it was the number of bodies that littered the pavement as she traversed through this horrible place; or if it was the stench of rot and decay that permeated the air; or maybe if it was the soul shattering cries for help mouthed by the fallen, the way souls scraped through the earth, desperate to flee and escape as this place-- this world comes to an end. At the helm of it all, was a figure whose eyes glowed ominously, looking down upon everything with despair, with agony, with sadness, with adoration, with madness, until there was nothing left but laughter conjured from pure apathy and derangement.

I̍̅̀̎̊'ḿ̬̏ͤͅ s̠҉͍͊ͅo̯̱̊͊͢ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ỉ͔͖̜͌r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒ o̯̱̊͊͢f̵͖̜̉ͅ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌s̠҉͍͊ͅ ā̤̓̍͘ĝ̽̓̀͑ā̤̓̍͘ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ḑ̴̞͛̒ ā̤̓̍͘ĝ̽̓̀͑ā̤̓̍͘ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ḑ̴̞͛̒ ā̤̓̍͘ĝ̽̓̀͑ā̤̓̍͘ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍. W̯ͤ̾ͣ͝ḣ̖̻͛̓y҉̃̀̋̑ ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅ ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢ o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍ẹ̿͋̒̕ ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍s̠҉͍͊ͅw̦̺̐̐͟ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ f̵͖̜̉ͅo̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕? W̯ͤ̾ͣ͝ḣ̖̻͛̓y҉̃̀̋̑ ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅ ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢ o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍ẹ̿͋̒̕ ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ ḳ̯͍̑ͦẹ̿͋̒̕y҉̃̀̋̑. A̷͙ͭͫ̕ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ḣ̖̻͛̓~ ỉ͔͖̜͌t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ḿ̬̏ͤͅā̤̓̍͘ḳ̯͍̑ͦẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅ ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ s̠҉͍͊ͅo̯̱̊͊͢ s̠҉͍͊ͅā̤̓̍͘ḑ̴̞͛̒, s̠҉͍͊ͅp̞̈͑̚͞ẹ̿͋̒̕c͕͗ͤ̕̕ỉ͔͖̜͌ā̤̓̍͘l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣy҉̃̀̋̑ w̦̺̐̐͟ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ṇ̤͛̒̍ I̍̅̀̎̊ f̵͖̜̉ͅā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍c͕͗ͤ̕̕ỉ͔͖̜͌ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒ ā̤̓̍͘l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ o̯̱̊͊͢f̵͖̜̉ͅ y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ c͕͗ͤ̕̕o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅp̞̈͑̚͞ā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒ t̲̂̓ͩ̑o̯̱̊͊͢ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ l̙͖̑̾ͣā̤̓̍͘s̠҉͍͊ͅt̲̂̓ͩ̑…

I̍̅̀̎̊ w̦̺̐̐͟ā̤̓̍͘s̠҉͍͊ͅ s̠҉͍͊ͅo̯̱̊͊͢ c͕͗ͤ̕̕ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝t̲̂̓ͩ̑ā̤̓̍͘ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘t̲̂̓ͩ̑ o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍ẹ̿͋̒̕ o̯̱̊͊͢f̵͖̜̉ͅ y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘ḑ̴̞͛̒ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ s̠҉͍͊ͅo̯̱̊͊͢l̙͖̑̾ͣư̡͕̭̇t̲̂̓ͩ̑ỉ͔͖̜͌o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍… ḿ̬̏ͤͅy҉̃̀̋̑ ẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅc͕͗ͤ̕̕ā̤̓̍͘p̞̈͑̚͞ẹ̿͋̒̕. M͉̅ͮ͒ͤy҉̃̀̋̑ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ… M͉̅ͮ͒ͤy҉̃̀̋̑ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ… M͉̅ͮ͒ͤy҉̃̀̋̑ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ. M͉̅ͮ͒ͤy҉̃̀̋̑ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ…?

W̯ͤ̾ͣ͝ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘t̲̂̓ͩ̑…w̦̺̐̐͟ā̤̓̍͘s̠҉͍͊ͅ I̍̅̀̎̊ t̲̂̓ͩ̑r̴̨̦͕̝y҉̃̀̋̑ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ĝ̽̓̀͑ t̲̂̓ͩ̑o̯̱̊͊͢ ẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅc͕͗ͤ̕̕ā̤̓̍͘p̞̈͑̚͞ẹ̿͋̒̕ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ ā̤̓̍͘ĝ̽̓̀͑ā̤̓̍͘ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍?

M͉̅ͮ͒ͤḣ̖̻͛̓ḣ̖̻͛̓ḣ̖̻͛̓ḣ̖̻͛̓ḿ̬̏ͤͅ… ỉ͔͖̜͌f̵͖̜̉ͅ I̍̅̀̎̊ c͕͗ͤ̕̕ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢t̲̂̓ͩ̑ r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ḿ̬̏ͤͅẹ̿͋̒̕ḿ̬̏ͤͅb̬͖̏́͢ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ṇ̤͛̒̍ ỉ͔͖̜͌t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ḿ̬̏ͤͅư̡͕̭̇s̠҉͍͊ͅt̲̂̓ͩ̑ b̬͖̏́͢ẹ̿͋̒̕ o̯̱̊͊͢f̵͖̜̉ͅ ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢ ỉ͔͖̜͌ḿ̬̏ͤͅp̞̈͑̚͞o̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝t̲̂̓ͩ̑ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍c͕͗ͤ̕̕ẹ̿͋̒̕. Ỵ̛̖͋͢ẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ḿ̬̏ͤͅư̡͕̭̇s̠҉͍͊ͅt̲̂̓ͩ̑ b̬͖̏́͢ẹ̿͋̒̕ ỉ͔͖̜͌t̲̂̓ͩ̑, ā̤̓̍͘ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘~

A̷͙ͭͫ̕ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ā̤̓̍͘ḣ̖̻͛̓~ I̍̅̀̎̊ ḳ̯͍̑ͦṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢w̦̺̐̐͟. I̍̅̀̎̊'l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ ĝ̽̓̀͑ỉ͔͖̜͌v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕ y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ ā̤̓̍͘l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ c͕͗ͤ̕̕ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍c͕͗ͤ̕̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ t̲̂̓ͩ̑o̯̱̊͊͢ ḿ̬̏ͤͅā̤̓̍͘ḳ̯͍̑ͦẹ̿͋̒̕ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ĝ̽̓̀͑s̠҉͍͊ͅ r̴̨̦͕̝ỉ͔͖̜͌ĝ̽̓̀͑ḣ̖̻͛̓t̲̂̓ͩ̑. A̷͙ͭͫ̕f̵͖̜̉ͅt̲̂̓ͩ̑ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ ā̤̓̍͘l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ, t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ ỉ͔͖̜͌s̠҉͍͊ͅ ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢ o̯̱̊͊͢t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ w̦̺̐̐͟ā̤̓̍͘y҉̃̀̋̑ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ t̲̂̓ͩ̑o̯̱̊͊͢ f̵͖̜̉ͅo̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝ĝ̽̓̀͑ỉ͔͖̜͌v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕ ā̤̓̍͘l̙͖̑̾ͣl̙͖̑̾ͣ o̯̱̊͊͢f̵͖̜̉ͅ y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇r̴̨̦͕̝ s̠҉͍͊ͅỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍s̠҉͍͊ͅ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ḑ̴̞͛̒ s̠҉͍͊ͅt̲̂̓ͩ̑ā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝t̲̂̓ͩ̑ o̯̱̊͊͢v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝.

S̵̙͕̀̃t̲̂̓ͩ̑ā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝t̲̂̓ͩ̑ o̯̱̊͊͢v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝. M͉̅ͮ͒ͤā̤̓̍͘ḳ̯͍̑ͦẹ̿͋̒̕ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ĝ̽̓̀͑s̠҉͍͊ͅ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ẹ̿͋̒̕w̦̺̐̐͟. G̩̱ͩ̏͜o̯̱̊͊͢ b̬͖̏́͢ā̤̓̍͘c͕͗ͤ̕̕ḳ̯͍̑ͦ t̲̂̓ͩ̑o̯̱̊͊͢ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ẹ̿͋̒̕ b̬͖̏́͢ẹ̿͋̒̕ĝ̽̓̀͑ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ṇ̤͛̒̍ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ĝ̽̓̀͑.

F̘͍͖ͫ͘o̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝ I̍̅̀̎̊ ā̤̓̍͘ḿ̬̏ͤͅ s̠҉͍͊ͅo̯̱̊͊͢ v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝y҉̃̀̋̑ ḳ̯͍̑ͦỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ḑ̴̞͛̒.

Again and again, Jiyuu would be forced to relive this again and again as she watched it happen from different perspectives. Sometimes, it would be from one of the ‘main’ actors, sometimes from a bystander’s point of view, at times from the person she assumed was Crowley, sometimes from the one that was on the verge of dying. One thing was certain however, each time she would feel death’s grasp coiling around her-- feeling just how much each repetition erodes the soul. And the worst part was that nothing could be done about it apart from repeating it again and again and again.

===

With a snap of his fingers, the door that was once closed swung open to reveal their uninvited guests. However, what kind of Headmaster would he be if she didn’t show generosity to one of his own? Despite eavesdropping being such a wretched act, he wasn’t one to condemn a child over something so trivial.

“Oh my. Come in, come in. Don’t be shy.”

Now that the room was opened for hear to truly see, Quentin would come face to face with Dire Crowley, the elusive man of the hour, sitting upon his chair with a book in hand, looking as normal as anyone can be. Like the entire scene before her peeping was a mere fabrication of the mind. And yet, beside him, sitting obediently on the floor was Jiyuu.

However, the place where she sat was covered in dark and winding thorns, some of which have already crawled and coiled along her arms and neck. A dark, lifeless gaze was cast downward, as if she was looking down upon her hands which rested calmly on her lap, blot trickling down her pale face. Above her was a a sphere of black ink, floating idly. Yet perhaps the most eye catching thing in the room was the abomination of a bird whose size was big enough that each of its feet perched atop each of the girl’s shoulder; therefore obscuring a mirror black as night from the bystander’s view point.

“Now then, might I ask,"

"͐W͐͐h͐͐a͐͐t͐ ͐b͐͐e͐͐g͐͐e͐͐t͐͐s͐ ͐m͐͐e͐ ͐t͐͐h͐͐e͐ ͐p͐͐l͐͐e͐͐a͐͐s͐͐u͐͐r͐͐e͐ ͐o͐͐f͐ ͐y͐͐o͐͐u͐͐r͐ ͐u͐͐n͐͐s͐͐o͐͐l͐͐i͐͐c͐͐i͐͐t͐͐e͐͐d͐ ͐p͐͐r͐͐e͐͐s͐͐e͐͐n͐͐c͐͐e͐, ͐Q͐͐u͐͐e͐͐n͐͐t͐͐i͐͐n͐ ͐N͐͐i͐͐g͐͐h͐͐t͐͐y͐-͐S͐͐a͐͐l͐͐l͐͐o͐͐w͐-͐s͐͐a͐͐n͐… ͐a͐͐n͐͐d͐ ͐c͐͐o͐͐m͐͐p͐͐a͐͐n͐͐i͐͐o͐͐n͐?" Any other time would have been good, surely. Alas, unfortunately, now was not one such time-- but he will hear her out, for he is quite gracious no matter the place nor circumstance.

[magatsunohana]

[ From @twisted-legacies ]

Quentin 💪 ( carry ) Jiyuu to Ramshackle with Grim somewhere on Quentin's shoulder, to Ramshackle for a feast!

Pick me up! [ Accepting ]

“You know, I wont break my ankle walking with a sprain.”

Specially when you tell her that there was a feast waiting at Ramshackle, just the thought of the many things that could happen inside the dorm while everyone was busy merry making was enough to make Jiyuu forget the pain and sprint on over. Not that she disliked festivities, but with a rowdy bunch combined with squeaky floorboards... the last thing she wanted was someone with a face full of food and broken plates because someone tripped over loose pieces of wood, or anything of the like.

So it really wasn’t necessary to carry her ALL the way back to the dorm. Jiyuu could manage. She may arrive late, but she was going to arrive nonetheless.

“Grim, you’re such a freeloader. Come down from there!” It must be hard enough that she was carrying her. Having Grim there was just-- who knew, it may be nothing, it may be overkill, but at the very least to lighten the load she reached for their troublesome little cat weasel.

Now, whether it turned into a swiping battle was something that Quentin was just going to have to live through... for a couple of minutes at least.

[magatsunohana]

@selenecrown said: Quentin vc: WHAT ABOUT ME!

"I don't remember accepting you as my baby-making wench, Quen. Why'd you want to be a two-faced, stuck up, gas-lighting, manipulative, pasty-ass bitch anyway?" She was referring to her mother.

[magatsunohana]

[ From @twisted-legacies from my main blog. I can't send picture without main blog interaction, sorry because this crack idea hit me like a rock and now I actually picture an AU where this is a real family and I'm laughing waaaaaaaay too hard about it and I hate and love it.]

Quentin, clearly sleep-deprived and confused looking with a pile of papers around her and piles of coffee in the trash:

Hold on Crowley. If you're my dad, do I have a mother or another father or other parental figure or are you single dad???

Do I have siblings??? Am I the oldest of the siblings?!

Is Grim our cat and Night Raven College our house???

What about my biological parents and my siblings, are we just gonna pretend they don't exist and you adopt me anyways????

Do I have to sign some papers about this? Am I becoming the next headmaster or a staff member when you retire? Are you gonna become a nobleman too??? Are you gonna take over my homeland for the money???? You gonna make me divorce my spouses?!

@twisted-legacies

Unprompted Asks [ Always Accepting ]

As much as he was happy to be entertaining all of Quentin’s questions, first thing’s first.

“QUENTIN NIGHTY SALLOW!” The strictness in his voice was apparent, enhanced even more by the seemingly annoyed slant of the golden orbs behind his mask. Right now, the disappointment that coursed through his veins couldn’t even make him decide if he wanted to cry or if he wanted to be furious. Definitely though, it was somewhere in between those two. “I do believe that I have made myself clear time and time again about eating healthily!” So what in the sweet merciful Seven were ALL of these emptied cups of coffee?! Did she not know that an excessive amount of caffeine was bad for the body? “Part of being a great mage is being responsible for your health. If you do not get enough nutrients, you will never be able to grow well, or be fit enough to perform magic. And even staying up late when you can CLEARLY ask ALL of these to me in the morning, or after classes have ended…”

“I DO NOT EVEN WANT TO THINK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU FALL ILL BECAUSE OF THIS!” Eat well, sleep well. These were all important but basic requirements for young, budding mages. He would clear his throat then, before finally continuing on with the topic at hand.

“Before I answer you questions, I would like you to apologize to Grim-kun in the morning. He may be a beast, but he is one of the promising students of Night Raven College-- which is to make myself absolutely clear, NOT OUR HOUSE-- and therefore not a pet.” If only Grim would extend his eagerness in his classes however, he would be truly commendable. “And speaking of the School, I do regret to inform you that it is not my call to decide who takes over the mantle once my retirement is in sight. There is a Board tasked with the appointments, I’m afraid that I do not have much influence over their decisions.” As he himself had also been appointed by these people.

“Ahem. Now, going back. To put it simply, you my dear came from an egg. I found and nurtured you all by my kind, gracious, and lonesome self. The egg hatched and poof! You, my dear Quentin were born.” A soft chuckle would resound within the room as a clawed, gloved hand offers the young girl a pat on the head. From the tone of this whole egg-shenanigan tale, it was clear that he was joking. Surely, these were things that he wasn’t ready to share with this adopted daughter of hers just yet. For now, what’s important is that she gets some rest. It was late, and all this caffeine in her system does no real good. It was time for her to sleep.

“Now close your eyes, and take your rest. Put your mind at ease. No one’s homeland will be overtaken for money.” Tempting as it sounded, but he would never do such a thing. Night Raven College was a respectable institution running on proper tuition and donations. “And so long as your spouses are good to you, Papa won’t have to separate you from them, for I am truly very kind.” And as he says these words, the air around him seems to sparkle just a bit. The effects weren’t instantaneous, but it would make the atmosphere easier to sleep through. As Crowley drew his hand away from atop Quentin’s head, he would turn to leave.

“Sleep well tonight, young Night Sallow. Have pleasant dreams.”

[magatsunohana]

[ From @twisted-legacies ]

Quentin: Jiyuu. I'm adopting you and Yuuna and Grim! Call me 'Mom' from now on! (Is she joking? Is she serious? We'll never know!)

Anonymous Parents / Guardians [ Accepting ]

If that was a joke, that was a very bad joke. Specially since Quentin was so much nicer than that thing one calls a mother. Surely there actually were decent matriarchal figures in a household. It’s just… she would rather not deal with having someone to call such a thing.

“Ahahaha, I’m going to have to leave Yuu-chan and Grim to accept that offer. Besides, I’m not entirely sure what Nana Howl would feel if I suddenly get adopted by someone else. I’m somewhat of a um… a cub… I think… and I really would rather Nana doesn’t get angry at anyone.” Moooostly for Jack’s sake. Can't have her little-big brother getting into unnecessary troubles.

@twisted-legacies