#twst fan series

[haryuwu]

🪞 Twisted Wonderland | Le Mirage

Author's Note: After updating chapter 2, I feel a bit more confident to share the next ones! Also, thank you for those who reblog them! I really appreciate that! ToT

"Aah! Merveilleux..! You've done a splendid turn, monsieur Crabapple!" An exclamation of praise showered the purple boy named Epel Felmier who has been rehearsing at the ballroom with Rook Hunt, the vice housewarden of the dorm. His groans and pants were echoing within the room along with Rook's loud applause.

"Will…this be fine…?" Wiping off his sweat with the towel Rook provided, he asks for his opinion about his performance. He was unsure if his skill is really improving or lacking during his vigorous training…Or was it Rook’s infinite positive comments that has led him nowhere?

"Oui! I am certain that Roi du Poison, even Mademoiselle Mirage, would be delighted to see your parfaite danse! Truly magnifique!"

"Uh…thanks," Receiving compliments from Rook, Epel felt much more confident to perform for the Saintess within the house of Pomefiore. Who wouldn't want to witness her being pleased about their act of service? To serve the Saintess for her second debut celebration would be such an honor for everyone. Just seeing her presence would be a huge blessing. But something has been itching him to speak about it. 

"May I ask you something, Rook?" 

“Of course, mon ami! Tell me, what has been concerning you?” typical of Rook, he openly accepts any inquiries that he thinks would be advantageous for his data gathering. As a hunter himself, something like this is natural especially when an individual is more curious of what has been going inside his head. 

Unfortunately, he could not answer anything personal as he does not like anyone prying in his privacy. But answering Epel’s question won’t be a problem due to his hunch that his concern is not entirely about him.

“Well, I’ve been rehearsing this dance for the Saintess but…weren’t we told earlier by the Prefect and Grim that the ball won’t be adding any performances anymore?” Silence between the two suddenly grew, but the smile on Rook’s face did not fade. He may be looking unbothered by the notice the prefect of Ramshackle dorm has delivered, but it has been leaving Epel an awkward feeling to continue the rehearsal.

“Indeed, you’re right about that,” Rook finally uttered with his smile still unwavering. Epel on the other hand is beginning to think if Rook’s feeling rather upset about this news. He could only stare at his complexion that seems to be looking stable. 

"But do not fret, this performance of ours is not all for naught! It would be such a shame not to share the beauty of arts we've been eagerly honing."

"So I have come to a conclusion! Once Mademoiselle Mirage sets foot into our dorm's lounge, we shall perform this dance without having to stand nor be in contact with her then everything will be swell!"

"So we have to let her be our audience while we perform? I see now, that's a great idea!" Epel got rid of his assumptions of Rook being upset about the changes of plans as he knew from him that hunters do encounter unexpected changes when they are out for a hunt. 

Rook did mention this earlier before he ended his rehearsal for today. Although he still finds his hunter analogies unsettling at some point. 

"I am glad we have come to an agreement, Monsieur Pomette! Now let's make haste and waltz out of the ballroom. We might as well greet Roi du Poison on our way to the lounge," after cleaning up the ballroom, the two left the room before heading for a bath. It was an exhausting day but their preparation for the event has yet to be finalized.

Rook and Epel soon stopped on their tracks when they saw Vil Shoenheit, the housewarden of Pomefiore dorm, walking down the hallway. Rook immediately noticed that their housewarden was looking troubled, so he called his name out of pure concern. "Roi du Poison, your brows are getting too close to each other. That wouldn't be good for your beautiful complexion! Is something troubling you on this wonderful day?" 

Vil could only heave out a sigh before explaining his worry. "Ah, Rook. Epel as well…Yes, something has been pestering me the whole day and I couldn't get rid of it from my thoughts," he shook his head with arms crossed. He seemed even more restless after sharing it to the two. 

"Another shocking news came to me and I had no choice but to show my face in front of the Mirages. I had no idea it was that lady in their family."

"Are you talking about the Saintess?" Epel took the chance to ask as he was curious about what the Saintess is like. Just knowing about their history is already overwhelming, but knowing who the Saintess is was undeniably a mystery for everyone. 

"Well, Roi du Poison resides in the same homeland as the Saintess," Rook answered. He, too, was so interested in the existence of the Saintess that he couldn't contain his boiling exhilaration. "Alas, I wasn't able to know more about her. Not even her physical features, her routines, her preferences, none. 

"She was pretty well hidden from the eyes of the public…" There was a glimmer in his eyes. No one could barely point out how this truly intrigues him due to his behavior that causes them great anxiety whenever they are pursued by him.

"Even a skilled hunter like you is having trouble knowing anything about her, huh…But what exactly is the problem here?" Rook and Vil glanced at each other, unable where they had to begin the story. It's not an entirely heavy subject to be discussed, but knowing the two for quite a long time now it is best to share this hidden experience that occurred to Vil years ago. Of course, even Rook has no idea about this happening.

"I have been a bit too reserved about my past, but I guess it wouldn't hurt telling the two of you. Just know that this also shouldn't be discussed nor gossiped about. I wouldn’t tolerate any of this being talked about throughout the event," Rook and Epel agreed on this condition before falling silent to let him tell about his past experiences with the Mirage family.

"Our families have been well acquainted for decades until I was born. As you two already know, the Mirage family has never left their spot as one of the powerful families of mages. They served the royalties and even gained the title as their royal aide."

"The reason why our families' relationship has become sour was because of me breaking our engagement when we're little."

"Engagement…You mean you were her ex-fiancé?!" Epel was stunned about this story they never knew about. He was immediately shushed by Vil whose brows furrowed about how much of a loud mouth Epel is. 

"S-Sorry…"

"I cannot believe it, Roi du Poison! Why haven't you told me about such an important history between the two of you?" Rook, who seemed to be slightly saddened about this hidden information, asked about more about this. 

As the vice housewarden and the closest aide of Vil, this is truly an important information for him to be able to help him avoid stress and improve his complexion. Dealing with a bothersome yet inevitable history between the two would completely ruin all of his hard work to look much more presentable in the eyes of the guests.

"I couldn't tell you about this as it is not that big of a deal between our families. But the fact that they'll be our guests in this school, they won't stop sending me these ongoing proposals I have been receiving for the past few days," Recalling the pile of papers on Vil's table has made Rook realize what was going on in an instant. 

"Ah! Oui, those are letters on your desks that you've rejected. Most of those letters have the initials of L and M. Were those perhaps the initials of the future young administrator of Beau Company?"

"Correct. And she's the youngest lady of the Mirage family, one of the top influencers known not just me and Neige, the Saintess of the Land of Pyroxene," Faint gasps and shared glances, the two are slowly getting a grasp of the situation. Not only did the young lady of the Mirages become the known Saintess, she has already taken the hearts of other people and inherited the skills to be the next head of their family business as well. 

She may have a face that the public has never seen, but she still holds an overwhelming power of influence. A star that shines not too brightly yet has always been known by her name. 

Louise von Mirage.

Somewhere in Shaftlands…

"A-Achii…!" A lady covered her face and body with her cloak turned around to sneeze as she felt the wind blow coldly. She then adjusted her hood to properly cover herself from the chilling wind. "Have they noticed that I left the manor early? Well thanks to my mother, I was able to get my probation lifted and leave on my own…"

It took her hours to convince the staff of Hunt family’s villas to get her into the teleporters to travel faster. These teleporters weren't known by just anyone. As one of the known Mages, they’ve used these teleporters with consent from the Hunts despite them being away on journeys all the time.

Although she still doubted that her false reason for the staff to believe would last. So, using this teleporter will be her last one as she does not wish to return home without talking to Vil.

The lady prays that the recent letter she sent to him would arrive safely to his chamber and that he reads all of its contents. She does have a feeling that he ignores it all the time. The magic doesn't wear off from those letters, so perhaps he hasn't burned it into crisps. 

"As long as it reaches him, he'll come to me…right?"

The lass' platinum gray hair swayed forward as a gentle wind tempts her to proceed to that direction. It hasn't been that long since she had arrived at the Isle of Sages where the Night Raven College can be seen in the north. But how will she step into their school? 

The security has been doubled for some odd reason. She worries if it can detect her presence once she steps in and it will notify the headmage. She'll be discovered even if her presence will be acknowledged by the barrier as soon as they caught her sneaking in as well. 

"They'll definitely be suspicious of me since no one has seen my face at all." 

Walking past the terrifying looking trees, she began to stride on her way nearby Night Raven College's gates. Once she steps onto the pavement through the gate, there will be no chance for her to turn back. 

"You'll be fine, they won't see you as long as you apply cloaking magic on yourself. That's right, you've practiced this before…!" Filling her nervous self some encouragement, she finally entered through the gates of the school after going through a repetitive act of reluctancy. Yet an ache still pangs her heart as she goes further into a place she has yet to be welcomed.

To Be Continued

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[cheekinpermission]

Riddle's Swear School - The Epilogue

For those who don't understand what this is referencing, I'll link Pt. 1 of Riddle's Swear School. It was a mini series I did awhile back!

Pt. 1

[suntails]

[sharing/rb appreciated 💛]

my silver artbook is FINISHED and will open for preorders on 8/31 at 12pm EST!! it's been almost 3 months of work and i'm so excited to finally be able to share all the art i've worked on, PLUS a small bonus charm!

if u know silver fans,,, tell them

[ekkurea]

Commission for @oneordinaryautumn (´▽ʃƪ)♡

[3cremepie3]

Airhead pt. 1

Synopsis - Riddle Rosehearts x fem reader. Y/n is an idiot and needs help with studying from Riddle! She wants to pay back his kindness in the only way she know how.

Warnings - innocent riddle, lose of innocence, graphic mentions of head lol, premarital sex, cursing, spit, roughness, slutty y/n, bimbo y/n

A/n - I was supposed to start this series so long ago but I got caught up in request. I found this so fun to write and I will be continuing it!

“Hey riddle,” you exclaimed. You pulled him in for a big hug he deserved it for being so generous. He was helping you study for free! “There’s no need for that.” His words were harsh but his smile said otherwise. Whatever you let him go and plopped down on his bed.

“Wow, it’s so soft I can lay here forever.” You will not now up at once,” he demanded. “In order to get optimal study results students sit at desks. I have a perfectly organized one here.” You sighed getting up to sit at his desk. The chair was cool against your ass cheeks that hung out your dress.

It was uncomfortable and for some reason forced you to sit up. “Now let us begin I have tea time to attend to and I’ll leave you for independent study time then.” Okay,” you accepted. The session didn’t even start yet and you were bored. "Yawning already? Did you not get a good night's rest?"

"No, I stayed up all night waiting on a flash sale." Well, that was idiotic,' He claimed. "When your dorm has no AC you make do with what you can get, look isn't it cute."

"My god," Riddle gasped. "Isn't that lingerie women wear that for their husbands and as far as I know you aren't married." You erupted into a fit of giggles. God, he was over dramatic! “Riddle you're too innocent for your own good," you laughed. "I'm just wearing it to bed what's the harm in that?"

"You're right." He cleared his throat and stepped away to grab a hefty text book. "Hand me your phone there must be no distractions." You were hesitant but handed it over. Riddle grabbed a chair and scooted over towards you. Your body moved closer to his wanting to marinate in his scent. "Wow, you smell so nice Riddle like roses."

"Well thank you I make sure to use rosemary oil and- what are you doing get back to reading at once!" He pointed to the paragraph your eyes finished scanning. "I already finished," you pouted. "Fine then let's get started on this written response."

"The teacher wants you to write this in a formal format so no personal perspective." He continued to yap on and on about something that you couldn't bother to hear as you were distracted by the flamingos running across the yard. "Get him." You cheered leaning out the window to watch the mayhem between students and flamingos concur.

In an instant, you flashed him the short dress that you wore hiked up your back. “You mustn’t lean over like everything is showing,” Riddle yelled. He covered his eyes wanting to keep your privacy. “Ace he went that way,” you pointed. You felt the air on your ass and quickly realized what Riddle had been yelling about.

“Oops my ass was out,” you giggled. “It’s not funny Y/n!” Come on Riddle you act like you’ve never seen anyone’s panties before.” He stared at you blankly. “Wait you genuinely haven’t?” His face became rosy red at your question. “Well, not in real life of course.”

“Christ how is anyone this pure,” you wondered. “My mother kept me very sheltered from a lot of things.” So you’ve never watched porn?” He held his head low not meeting your bright eyes. “ How is that your first thought no I have not.” We’ll have you ever had a girlfriend or a side hoe or a hookup?”

“No I don’t have time for any of that,” he admitted. “I guess remaining top student comes with its downfalls.” You frowned for Riddle. You couldn’t imagine not getting laid. Just then you thought of something. “Well, Riddle since you gave me your time helping me study I’ll give you mine in bed?” You watched him awaiting his answer. “But mother says only married couples do that.”

You slapped your forehead out of frustration. “Mother means married couples stick it in. No one said we have to do all of that.” I suppose there’s no harm since it’ll be a fair exchange and as long as it’s done before tea time.”

“Yup just the perfect pace,” you gleamed. Now why don’t we get on the bed,” you suggested. “Alright.” Oh wow Riddle I’m surprised you’re agreeing to this.” Well, you only live once they say.” He propped himself up on his elbows wanting to face you.

“This process is for relaxation you can lay fully down.” He laid back sinking into his many pillows. “Good boy now take off your clothes.” You heard his breath hitch at the thought but his hands were eager to make them come undone. He stopped at his underwear, however. “Need help or something.” Your hand graced over his bulge and then to the band of his boxers.

“I think that would be best,” he admitted. You couldn’t help but notice his hands shaking. “Aww Riddle don’t be nervous. You sat up to give him some kisses on his burning torso. “It’s just a little dick-sucking,” you reminded. “I know but I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Well, then I’ll take things slower if you need it.” You began to kiss him softly he was a beginner after all. The first few were awkward teeth colliding but cute as you shared drool. The next ones were better since you took control catching his tongue in yours. You broke apart letting him catch his breath.

His hands tangled themselves in your hair pulling you back in. You balanced yourself on the bed before pulling your hips over his. Now you straddled his lap and could feel his heat against you. Riddle pulled up your dress which caused a gasp to come from your lips.

“Are you eager now?” Yes.” You looked up to see a riddles face flushed in a shade of scarlet. “Fine then I’m gonna go back down here. You crawled back to his legs making sure to land in an arch. Riddle thought he would lose his mind seeing the peak of your ass on full display. You pulled down his boxers to clearly see his mental state.

“Aww look at you dripping,” you coddled. "You can touch it i see you staring." Oh okay," he hesitated. You felt a hand collide with your ass cheek. He rubbed the flesh gently afterwards although it was an apology. You were gonna let out a protest but his focused face was too cute to pass up. You let a glob of spit coat his tip. You scanned his reaction as it slid down to his base.

His breath hitched at the warmness. Soon your mouth would follow the direction of the spit swallowing him down until you gagged. You exited with a pop making his toes curl. "So how's your first time getting head feel?" Good now continue," he demanded. His hand pushed you down onto his waiting dick.

You felt it twitch in your mouth as your tongue followed every curve every vein its entire being. "Oh my god," Riddle huffed. "Your cocks so cute look at it shake for me." You let it rest and spasm on your cheek. Your face had become wet with spit and his pre but you didn't mind. "Taste so good baby," you mumbled. Riddle could only bite his thumb down in response to holding his moans.

Your hand left his thigh to assist you in pumping him. Your grip was strong bringing his balls to tingle. Your lips noticed as you licked against the masses. And it intensified as you juggled them both in your mouth. He looked down on you astonished at your sinful actions.

Your dress was soaked but you were only just getting started. "Change of plans I want you to throat fuck me." Riddle looked at you like a lost puppy. "What does that mean." After quickly giving him a rundown he got into position. "So like this." He asked while pushing himself into your pulsing throat. Your hand linked themselves on his hips bringing him to push himself even deeper.

Riddle let out a grunt at the sensation of you squeezing around him. "Fuck it's like you're sucking me in." You chuckled you'd never think you'd get to hear Riddle RoseHearts curse. His hips buckled back and forth drilling themselves into you. But you still felt as though he was going to be soft on you.

"Riddle here's your chance to ruin me, to take all anger and stress out on me, to manhandle me. You're a man right then prove it to me." You spoke while scattering cock kisses. Riddle scoffed he was tired of everyone second-guessing him because he was small. "While since you give me permission I shall do my best job at it."

His smile twisted into a cruel smirk. You could tell in his head he had felt as though he was back in charge of the monarchy. While really you were still the dominant you just loved getting throat fucked. His hands raced to grab your neck forcing you to collide with the end of his shaft. You felt his hair tickle your nose while you gagged heavenly.

Riddle couldn't get enough of the vibrations against his core and forced you to stay until he watched your eyes roll back. You coughed greatly after being freed but stars were in your excited eyes as the same fate occurred. You watched Riddle lose himself in the contractions of your throat.

He moaned loudly as he pumped you like a fleshlight. They became whimper and he let out mewls that sounded as though he was crying. It was music to your ears especially when his voice that was sure to go raw yelled "Y/n" a dozen times. If he kept this up your throat would organize his shape forever.

And you wouldn't mind as long as you heard his whimper audio. "So good I think I'm gonna." He tried to give you a warning but it was too late. His cum poured down your throat leaving you to swallow the best you could in the short amount of time you had. The excess liquid spilled down your face and his now empty balls. He finally let go of his grip which allowed you to move away from the monster that was his cock.

You had 100% slayed that beast as he softened in front of your eyes. You pulled the bottom of your dress down ignoring the wet patch your essence had left on his bed. "Now we both held our fair end of the exchange." You spoke your voice raspy while removing your dress and stealing one of Riddle's shirts.

"Yes if you ever need help again be sure to let me know," he exclaimed. "Mhmm I'd love to push things even further. What your mother knows doesn't hurt her Riddle. It's not sin if its secret!”

[kimetsu-chan]

Drawings of my forgotten girls 😔 (just haven’t drawn them in a hot minute- am gonna do a bigger drawing of Yuna soon tho)

also, I was going to include Elvira, but I don’t wanna spoil her redesign 😉

BUT WHAT THE HECK I FORGOT YUNA’S SCAR AND BEAUTY MARK 😦

WHAT THE HECK KIND OF MOTHER AM I IF I FORGET HOW MY CHILD LOOKS LIKE ????!!!?? I’ll have to fix it eventually(never) 😭

Also, it’s hard to tell, but Aneko’s mask is cracked bc it’s in the infinity castle :3

Yuna’s is supposed to mirror the poster for the trilogy movies, so that’s why she looks kinda angry-

Taglist 🏷️: @larz-barz @aceofstars0 @mooechi @saffron0v0 @cherry-bomb-xoy

@zenitsustherapist @rion-isnot-an-ai @gyutarowritings @midnightmah07 @local-giyuu-simp

@pinkwisteria

[tixdixl]

I have never felt more proud of a one sentence description in my life. And yes... the character speaking is Floyd.

[yomogi-mogi-mochi]

Beloved Thy Name

Pairings: Lilia/MC, Lilia x MC

Summary: Triumphing over your siblings on the human farm situated in the far corners of Briar Valley, you are implanted with the essence of the Tree of Eternity, gaining unmatched abilities in regeneration. When your Warden finds that the experiment is a success, you are promptly sold to the fae army as a weapon of destruction‒ a position you answer to with animal violence, much to the content of your handlers and the fae army, who name you Dullahan, after the myth of the headless reaper. When you come across the infamous Lord Lilia, great commander of the Fae army‒ he takes you under his wing, gifting you morsels of peace even with death on the horizon. You are simply taken with the sweet songs and sugary words which fall from his mouth‒ echoing them in the heart in your chest that did not feel like yours. Angst but happy/sweet ending bc if I get no comfort I'll implode

Notes: Continuing my myth (?) series I guess with Twist characters? This one is based on Dullahan (the Celtic myth about a headless grim reaper basically)

CW: References to human experimentation and manipulation (neither is enacted by twst characters). Takes place before the events of the game during the Human/Fae War

AO3 Link Here.

Masterlist

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"Dullhan."

That name‒ like the clashing cold steel in your hands, and the taste of frosted blood upon your tongue‒ was given to you with purpose. That name‒ like the desire which seized your body with that moniker, was not truly your own. You did not call out to it, nor was it ever uttered upon your lips. It was always someone else crying out to that name, reaching out with a blade to thrust into your hands.

You could not recall your age when you left the human farm, arriving at a musty military camp north of the Valley of Thorns. Nineteen, maybe twenty, your Warden answered when a client asked, "ripe, youthful‒ good harvest" he had added. But it was only a vague notion. You recalled no celebrations‒ "birth-days", you later learned from Lilia‒ on the farm except when you triumphed over your siblings on your last day on that land. Your Warden congratulated you, shaking the blood and cold metal in your hand, "good human, the best, most precious doll", he said. If you had felt a fragment of anything at those words, it was eclipsed quickly by the burning at your limbs that was enacted by your new Warden‒ "commander" he corrected with venom between his rotten teeth. Your Warden, with a neutral face, asked why your commander had done so with his "best and brightest harvest".

"To check the quality."

"I assure you the essence of the Tree of Eternity is quite powerful." Your Warden tapped against the hard resin implanted between your collarbone. "Even with its abilities resting inside a human‒ it allows for extraordinary regeneration‒ this child can move just as well without its head‒ would you like to see?"

"Hm. I tell a lie. I merely wanted to feel the extent of the tree's capabilities with my own hands." He gazed at your arm with a warped smile that reached to his pointed ears. The stump at your shoulder was already weaving into veins and sinew, forming into flesh that felt distant from your body. Your lungs felt like hot coals, holding in the fire in your throat, however you were grateful that your commander had numbed you to any pain that came after in battle. When you carved death into human armies with animal force‒ fingers, bone, skin, and limbs were carelessly severed off to continue your path of undivided violence, fashioning victory for the fae army. If you fulfilled your purpose, you were fed, bathed, and sheltered. So the brief bursts of pain was nothing compared to what awaited you if you did not fulfill your handlers’ desires. You lost your head many times in the throes of your feral brutality, planting seeds of terror within all who witnessed the death hollowed out in your eyes, glowing with hot blood on your severed head. You carried it like a lantern, a harbinger to the destruction that followed the body which owned it. "Dullahan" was the name humans and fae cursed‒ either in inconsolable despair, or in hopes of victory. You answered to both.

"You there."

You turned, eyes hastily searching for the crest which indicated rank on the chest of the soldier. The high crest of the Queen of Thorns. Immediately, you dropped your body to the ground, on your knees, sickles held in one hand over your chest.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Should you not be resting at the infirmary? Your arm seems quite definitely severed."

"There is no need, my lord." The fleshy webs were already forming at your elbow, lacing elastic tendons around white bone. "I assure you that my regeneration capabilities exceed any human or fae of this land."

"You are the one they call Dullahan?"

"That is what they say, my lord."

"Hm. How fascinating‒ so you are the human they've infused the Tree of Eternity with." He lifted your still incomplete arm‒ you complied, letting it fall limp within his gloved hands like a doll. You learned to let people do what they wanted with your body‒ it was easier to listen than to expend energy resisting. That was something you learned while being pulled into a soldier's quarters one night‒ having your mouth forced open, arms and legs stiff as you swallowed thick, salty liquid. You realized that, in the same way you boiled the blood in your body to possess it with mindless violence, swung your sickles carelessly to be fed, it was less pain to spread your legs, and lie flat against the flimsy cot at their command. Like your name, like all the words spoken to you‒ it was easier just to follow its desire than to awaken a rebellion inside you. It would tire you out anyway. So you let the man handle your arm, twisting and turning it to watch the meaty strings form your hand. You stood as he raised it to the clouded sunlight, hunching your solid form to appear smaller. "Unlike magic I've ever seen." He let go, your arm falling with the gravity that suddenly weighed on top of it.

"I've heard you can move without a head like the very myth your name comes from. Is this true?"

You stilled at that statement. "Permission to ask a question, my lord?"

"Sure." He nodded with slight amusement creasing his brow.

"What is this 'myth' you speak of?" You raised your eyes for the first time to his face‒ you were met with young, porcelain skin and hair as dark as a raven. Fiery magenta eyes embellished with smoky coal stared back in slight confusion.

"The myth of Dullahan? Surely you know, it's from the human culture, is it not?" His head tilted, letting you gaze at his cascading dark locks with envy. It seemed so silky, softness unlike anything you've ever touched. You hands, accustomed to the rough, threadbare scraps which made up your military uniform, and the rocky, earth packed ground you slept on, itched with desire, hoping a featherlight touch on the soft elegance of his entire being, just for a second. Had you known the word "beauty" at that time, you would use his name in place of it. But a doll designed to beckon destruction‒ you did not know such fair words.

"I am afraid I do not, my lord. I have never encountered a human outside of battle."

"In that case I can only tell you it is a tale about a headless warrior which embodies an omen of death. I know nothing else about it, I'm afraid." He rests a hand on his chin. "I was looking forward to seeing you headless‒ I thought you just walked around like that." A chuckle raised from his lips. You were new to such a light, delicate sound‒ letting it echo in your chest many times after it had stopped at your words.

"With your command I can certainly do so, my lord." You stepped down once more, raising your sickle to your neck, drawing it promptly through skin‒ he knocked the cold metal from your hands, eyes widened in something you had never seen.

"Fool! What good will you be if one of my men injures themselves?!"

With quick reflex, you bowed down your head to the ground. But the fire that ran deeply in his fuchsia eyes made your eyes widen, brows furrow under the veil of darkness you created with shadow on your face. Tightness in your chest lingered, before you wrung it out into your shoulders awaiting wrath that followed the rage pointed at you with cruel eyes and spat words. "My greatest apologies, my lord."

"Is this one bothering you, Lord Lilia?" A familiar hand thrusted you deeper into the ground, buckling your knees and knocking your face into the solid earth. You tasted grainy soil in your mouth, swallowing it silently, and awaited your commander's mercy.

"No. Do not handle our men with such rough hands, commander." Anger radiated from Lilia's eyes, seeping into your back which basked in his glare. "Otherwise I will have to reconsider your position here since you are clearly not fit to lead.”

"...my deepest apologies Lord Lilia. I merely thought‒" You felt your commander's hand snap away from your head, loosening the pressure on your face that pressed against the dirt.

"You don't need to think, commander, since it is clear that you cannot. Just do as I say and leave them here."

"C-certainly, Lord Lilia." Hasty footsteps vibrated through the solid ground you kept your face to, however you still sensed anger‒ some from your commander, however more from Lilia, who placed a gently hand your shoulder.

"Are you alright? Rise, Dullahan."

You did as you were told, feeling cold filth stick to your cheek. "I apologize if I upset you, Lord Lilia." Why did I upset you?, was a question that you always knew to keep to yourself.

He pulled you up onto your feet, dusting the dirt on your flimsy uniform. Fresh blood seeped into it, which trickled down your nose, on your lips, to your chin. Lilia wiped it off, softly grazing your lips with the warmed blood of his thumb.

"You…" He paused, looking towards your distant eyes in an attempt to find any pain, discomfort, or sorrow. The hollowness he found instead made him swallow thickly. "You didn't do anything to upset me." He traced your line of sight towards your commander's disappearing form. "Does he always do that to you?"

You kept your stony gaze at his crest. "Do what, my lord?"

"Hurt you."

"It heals, so it does not hurt."

"Just because it grows back doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I mean your pride, too."

You sounded that word in your mind "p-r-i-d-e". You wondered what it meant, but you decided not to ask so many questions. Nothing hurt, not for long anyways. The pain could never be retrieved long enough for you to truly feel it. "There is no pain. It heals anyway, my lord."

"That doesn't…" Lilia paused, pity curving his flowery lips to a frown. You quietly mimicked the gesture, twitching the corners of your mouth ever so slightly. You didn't like seeing him so upset.

"I apologize, my lord."

"You don't need to, you did nothing wrong." Lilia rested a hand on the weapon mounted on his hip, turning his body away from you. "Come with me."

You knew not to refute any words that were pointed at you. So you merely followed his command, trailing his form with quiet footsteps.

——————————————————

For the ensuing days, you learned that the fae army was joining all of its forces to prepare for the great battle that was climbing over the horizon of this long, long war. This knowledge was acquired by your time you now spent with Lilia‒ who unofficially claimed you from your commander. Though on your skin, you could almost feel the wrath shaken first of your commander that stiffly rested at the side of his body upon hearing this news‒ it brought you relief that there was almost nothing he could do to object Lord Lilia‒ great commander of the Fae forces.

Tonight, like many nights preceding it, you sat by the fire next to your new commander‒ drinking in the warmth it brought you. Like a ritual every night, Lilia hounded you with questions regarding your upbringing, your relationship with your commander, asking for names, for details.

"What is your true name?"

"My true name?" You echoed.

Lilia swung his wooden jug in a leisurely manner, a sight you had been seeing more of recently opposed to his steely facade as great commander of the Valley of Thorns. "Yes, the name that you were given." He says with confusion in his grin. During his time with you, he frowned less, seeing sometimes that you would mirror his movements very slightly. He didn't like seeing you so upset.

"Dullahan is the name I was given. The name cried by humans and the name fae call out to beckon my sickles." You twirled the blades in your hand with experienced control. "It was the name I was given after the wardens infused my body with the sap of the Tree of Eternity that grants me my power."

"Surely you have a name besides the one called out to you in battle, do you not?"

"No. They do not give us names on the farm. Only symbols burned onto our backs."

"The farm?"

"The human farm. The fae kept us there to train and find the strongest among us that could be the vessel to the Tree of Eternity. It's long gone."

Surprise, then a darkened look adorned your commander's face. "What ever happened?"

"The wardens had me set them all free."

"..."

"I set them free from the prison that is a name‒ harvest, they called us. I suppose that is also my name. Only one of us would survive and enter this war. So I freed them." You told yourself more than Lilia, who sat across from you with a somber expression. Only the crackling of the fire was heard within the silence that rang between your two, until Lilia spoke.

"The purpose of a name is not to be a prison. It is a hand we reach out in the darkness that echoes against our form, and from there we are able to distinguish the existence of ourselves." He rested his head in his hands. "Without it, we are formless, we are lost."

"Then…" you started, "...It seems I have always been lost. I have no form to call out to, yet even in battle my body grows back as if it remembers something that is not truly there." You felt the raised scar on your neck.

"You do have a name. You just need to find it."

"Where do I find it?" He reached out a hand to your shoulder.

"Deep, deep inside yourself."

"My…self" that word felt foreign to your tongue. "… I am not sure I know what that is enough to search in its depth." You admitted blankly. Lilia squeezed your flesh, warming it, you tensed at the heat. It felt alive, it felt soft, it felt kind‒ unlike the cold flesh that grasped your hands in mercy, or the icy grip that herded you back to slaughter. "But," Something welled inside you that made you body feel like yours for once.

"...I hope that name is kinder to me." You warmed your heart with his touch.

"It will be." Lilia brought you closer. "It will be." He echoed like a prayer.

——————————————————

He promised to make you his second in command that night, a statement which made you raise your eyebrows to. You had no rank, no position besides as a harbinger of death‒ an object which fulfilled a promise made from the egos of men which desired to live. If any rank, you would be among the armory and weapons stored in the artillery‒ melded together and hardened into another, more useful blade when broken. But in few days time, you were exchanged with several blocks of Mystium, which Lilia threw to the ground at your old commander's feet with a piercing, downwards gaze.

"Is that stone not precious to our victory?" You glanced at the piles of material, shining and brimming with magical energy.

"...You are much more so." He murmured, voice strained and face veiled with his untied hair.

You said nothing, practicing your form with tense muscles, looking over at your new commander's face occasionally. You noticed you sickles were worn however, prompting you to excuse yourself to the dark depths of the forest of thorns, draining blood from a severed hand and squeezing out organs through a deep gash in your stomach. You had done so with surgical precision, which earned you several gold coins at the local hospital, traded quickly for a new pair of sickles. Lilia eyed you with suspicion when you came back, your arms and torso bathed in blood and filth, the silvery shine of new blades catching his eyes. He asked what happened, and you answered him honestly, much to his horror. It was several days after that he handed you sickles made of Mystium.

"Just ask me next time." You had never felt a heavier satchel of gold than the one Lilia gave you with those words. The green stone glistened even with dark clouds looming over the camp. "Beautiful" was a word you learned from Lilia that day‒ it was apparently different from "pretty", or "cute", the words your commander's lower ranks called you in their bed, sticky and salty with sweat. The word in itself was just that‒ beautiful‒ especially when it was sung pure from Lilia's lips, and echoed onto your own.

Bea ‒ you ‒ tea ‒ full. You sounded out, a sweet laughter erupting from Lilia. "What does it mean?"

"It means something shines in your eyes and you love it‒ even if it burns."

"Oh." You inspected your new sickles again letting it shine in the airy light. "This is bea-you-tea-ful, then. Isn't it Lilia?" Everytime you let his bare name escaped your lips, you felt a strange tingling in your stomach. Like that swelling in your body, you enjoyed the sensation, provoking you to say that name as much as he allowed.

He looked into your eyes, not even glancing at the stone‒ you decided you didn't mind. "Yes, it is."

Though you had been surrounded by fae all your life since the moment you were born into the farm, you had never felt such closeness comparable to your days with Lilia. It felt less sterile‒ more warm, crisp, and pure‒ and you delighted in this new storm brewing inside you, keeping your form close to Lilia's at all times. "You're my second in command. I expect you with me at all times to answer my call." He echoes your sentiment.

"Of course."

"Speaking of which, I don't even have a name to call you yet."

"Is it necessary?" You asked.

"Dullahan is a bit long, don't you think?"

"I don't know. Everyone knows that name." It was often the name humans cursed, and the fae prayed for‒ there was no reason to announce your name when it had already been called out to bring destruction, or beg for mercy.

"How about (Name), then?"

"That's fine." Anything from you, you thought.

"Hm (Name), (Name)...does that sound right to you, (Name)? Does it echo in your heart?"

The fanged smile on his face when he carved that sound with his throat made you immediately answer.

"Yes." You breathed.

"(Name) it is, then." Cherishing that sound now, you hoped he would keep it quietly inside his heart, letting it be chanted to no one but him.

"I like it. It's bea-you-tea-ful." You knew your pronunciation would make him laugh, and he did.

"I'm glad you finally found it then."

You learned many more words from him‒ love, precious, peace, delicious, sweet, flower, honey, salty, creamy, soft, warm. They felt too sweet, too decadent on your tongue‒ so you let it swirl in your mouth, sharpening them in your mind like barley sugar‒ another thing Lilia introduced you to. When you swallowed the hard candy like the pills the wardens used to give you‒ your commander burst with laughter.

"No‒ (Name)! You're supposed to keep it in your mouth to dissolve it!" He gasped between fits of boyish giggles bubbling from his mouth.

"Oh." You felt the hard sugar slowly slide down your throat. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. It was funny actually. Here." He placed another between your lips, parting the soft flesh with sweetness before pushing it towards your tongue. "And keep the rest. I think you'll like it." A metal can was handed to you, rattling a bit as he placed it gently in your hands. You soaked in his warmth that lingered on your lips and the hollow metal between your fingers. It felt sweeter than the candy slowly melting on your tongue. You molded it into a sharp fragment with wet muscle, cutting through your mouth‒ tasting the saccharine copper which spread on your tongue as a Lilia chattered away, explaining all matters of delights in sugary language. When words came from him, it seemed like the very definition of beauty trilling from his lips.

Even on stormy days where war and death reigned your lives, Lilia provided little morsels of peace that you shared together like the heat from a smoldering fire, huddled together in his spacious quarters in a bubble of serenity. He had taught you to read, so you sat on the earth near Lilia's feet while he worked on tactical analysis. You had tried to help at first, but that proved impossible when you didn't even know how to read words.

"You were never taught?" There was no malice in his voice‒ there never was when he talked with you.

"No. My warden and commander said it was unnecessary for the likes of me." You parroted their sentences you had heard with sharp laughter when hiding in the shadows one night.

His expression softened, before bringing you a book into your hands. "Here, let me teach you then."

You had practiced the words that flew from his mouth with clumsy lips, now reading each word carefully with a whisper. Pink circles around some words littered the pages, which you had drawn, to collect beautiful words and store them in your chest next to Lilia's voice which echoed them in your heart.

Your finger paused on the word "beloved". Lilia had taught you the definition of "love" but "be-loved"?

"Lilia?" You raised the book to his lap, placing your fingernail to the word. Lilia hummed in response, looking over. "What does it mean to 'be-love-ed'?"

When surprise adorned his face, you shrunk back, taking the book back into your chest. Lilia stopped you before you could, taking the text gingerly from your hands, and gliding his pale hand across the page to rest his finger next to yours to point, "Dearly beloved". He tapped on the word, thinking. You laid your hand flat onto the parchment next to his, to feel the vibrations of his rumination through your skin.

"Beloved, beloved…hm."

"Does it mean to be loved?"

Eyebrows twist in further contemplation at that. "Hm…no. It's something much deeper." Tap, tap, tap. "Ah, I guess it is love‒ except we can actually touch it." He stops his tapping, laying his hand like yours to line it against the side of your hand. You gazed at him with confusion. "Because beloved is a person. Unlike love that is the space and the actions between people‒ beloved is the face of that love. It's a vessel of love‒ and you can kiss it, hold it."

"I like that word. Be-love-ed." That word tingled on your tongue. "It sounds like a kind name."

"I suppose in some ways it is." He hummed.

You had wished you could change your named to that‒ "Be-loved". Such sweetness, such love it would be to taste the word on your lips. Beloved, beloved, beloved. Lilia's voice had completely replaced your own inside your chest, ringing that word like clear water. You leaned next to him, camping next to his warmth. He let down a hand, bringing you closer to it.

——————————————————

The great battle was coming, you could read it on the tension written on the soldier's faces. You suppose it would have been inevitable to be in your situation right now‒ arms behind your back and face pressed onto the cold ground, the soldier behind you pressing himself onto your thigh. He threw you onto the fabric of his itchy cot, a force which you accepted like a rag doll‒ slumping immediately into the surface like you had done so many times before. You lay stiffly, letting hands and mouth wander to spread you open wide‒ while you thought of other matters, truly anything else, to divorce yourself from the slick bitterness which swirled your skin and insides. You thought of the taste of barley sugar, the pink bottle of ink Lilia lent you, and his voice which called your name. You thought of the word beloved, contemplating through a feverish gaze if this man was the face of love. It wasn't, you decided. You would keep "beloved" close to your name, deep inside your chest like the tin can holding only a few morsels of sweetness left. This was too ordinary, too bland to gift such precious delectability upon it.

Your eyes phased back when you felt cold liquid dripping onto your bare chest‒ blood, your memory says. The delirium in your eyes never ceased as the shadow that loomed over you slumped to the side, off the cot. You lay still, breathing hollowly, closing your eyes just to get a little closer, closer, more, more, more‒ to fill yourself other than the desire of others in this humble moment. You wanted to taste sweetness on your tongue, from sugary words and honeyed candy‒ not the salt which spread on your lips.

"(Name)?"

You stopped immediately when hearing that voice, clinging onto it with heavy eyes and baited breath.

"Oh." Your voice came out raspy, hushed the dry salt in your throat. "Hi Lilia."

"Why…" He bit his tongue. "...What happened?"

You thought for a second, hoping the feverish heat in your temples would calm. "What always does."

Anger filled his lunge in deep, roaring breaths. Reading it off of him, you sat up from the bed, looking up into his eyes with a frosted expression. "I'm sorry. Did I upset you again?"

"No, no. You never do."

Still you apologize, quietly. "I'm sorry." Matters like what happened just now were normal, and you never felt anything of it despite turning it in your mind over and over. But today, you felt like you had done something wrong‒ not to yourself, but to Lilia, who stood with a darkened look. "Are you going to return me to my commander?"

"No. Never." He said deeply. "He's not your commander. I am. I need you…" A deep breath, calming his nerves. “I need you by my side as my second in command.”

"Oh." You looked down, craning your neck towards the ground. "Are you going to discipline me then?"

In the dimmed lantern light, you felt him crouch down, taking one soft hand into your hair and one gently onto your back, bringing you into his chest to cradle you in his warmth. "Never, sweet (Name)."

You kept your eyes wide open, afraid that if you would blink, it would be all gone. Though the trumpets of war begin to sound outside in the stony blue morning light, you relished the heat in this moment, knowing it would be washed away with cold blood when you were beckoned back onto the battlefield.

"But I'm dirty." You noticed, blood and sweat seeping into the fabric of his chest. He held you even tighter, as you hung limp in his chest, unblinking, unwavering to his touch that almost burned your bare skin.

——————————————————

Dullahan, Dullahan, Dullahan.

You felt a thousand souls call out to Dullahan, extending their armored hands towards the giant they saw in you, sickles clamaourned in their hands. They forced your worn hands open, opening the palm like the gates of hell, molding your hands I to the weapon with a twisted prayer.

Dullahan, Dullahan, Dullahan‒ it sounded like cold clashing metal, the slow drumming of death. You let it take over you‒ possess your body as always, drinking in the beat of destruction like bitter wine offered to dark gods. You carved silence into the battlefield‒ eventually, you succeeded. Everything was smothered to a leveled silence. The war was over, but you still felt empty violence writhing inside of you.

You looked around with smoke lightly burning your eyes, seeing nothing but a gray picture‒ fossilized into still, silent death. None of the other soldiers, none of your commander's, not a single soul was still present in the ash and dust. Your feet dragged your body, mindlessly wandering the empty world with a ringing in your ears. You felt absent with no one calling even the curse, Dullahan, at you. There was no way to end it‒ you couldn't die, you couldn't scream, you couldn't find yourself enough to lose yourself. Still, you raised your blade to your neck, hoping it would make you feel something, even if it was the echoes of war.

(Name)!!

That sound felt like a spring creek wash over you, crisp like lonesome winter but soaked in the warmed honey of the growing maytime sun. It reached a hand towards you. Not frigid metal, not the harbingers of death that attach at your wrists, not decaying blood‒ you, your soul, everything you are right at this moment. You leaned into the touch like a starved animal, drinking in the sweetness. Soft hands, soft eyes, soft touch‒ you would set this world ablaze, rip apart your own flesh, lose your head to serve these new gods. Lord, my lord, you thought‒ let any name from his lips be my new curse.

Slowly, you let your sickles drop to the ground made with rotting meat and blood. The emptiness in your grip made you yearn dearly.

"(Name)!!"

The earth was running under your feet, your body flying towards that benevolent song. You tested his name in your head‒ Lilia, Lilia, Lilia‒ before it flew out of your mouth like the stinging breath from your lungs.

"Lilia!"

He crashed into you with his warmth, squeezing your body to bring you closer and closer into him, as much as solid flesh allowed. Your arms grasped back, desperately, feeling his heartbeat from his back, into your tender palms. Flesh against flesh, your head dove next to his, pressing into his warmth and inhaling all you could into your skin. To lose any of it felt like losing yourself.

"Beloved,"

You immediately answered. "Yes?"

He paused, raspy breaths forced out of his throat before he caught his voice once more. "My (name)- my beloved (Name)- you came‒ you came to me. You're here."

"You called my name, my lord, my Lilia, my beloved."

Your names for each other, love, dearest, and adoration were the things you felt for each other. But above all, beloved rang clearest, straight through your blood unlike any other name cried upon you in war. How sublime it was to now call love your own. My beloved, mine, mine, mine.

Beloved was his name and thy own‒ and it would be sung until your voices turned raw with death. You cherished that sweetness, occasionally bringing it to your lips and onto his like this moment‒ singing joyously, what ecstacy it was to claim love with the warm of a face. No bitter taste of blood or metal could overpower the mulled honey you continued pouring into each other over the years to come. In a triumphal song against such distaste of violence and war, you sung a sweetened melody on your lips, towards the face of love‒ beloved, my beloved.

——————————————————

Notes:

I headcanon the Valley of Thorns to have been mainly a German culture especially because of their connection to gothic architecture (goths were germanic)- which would make them connected to paganism at first (because of their connection to scandinavia), before their conversation to Christianity

But I still added elements of Celtic mythology because the Goths were actually a subdivision (?) of the Celts after Rome's downfall. They actually had a large hand in the fall of Ancient Rome, being the final push Rome needed in its political tension when they seized the Western Roman Empire, causing the Eastern Empire to take control, which then at that point it had already divided into a bunch of clans that originally made up Rome. Though there are many types of Goths like Germanic Goths that inspired Gothic architecture, Celtic Goths also existed in predominantly Celtic regions on account of all the fighting and intermingling they were all doing. Also‒ Roman's actually had a special word for celts called "Scotti" which roughly translated in Latin to "cutthroats"- pretty cool lol.

But I imagine fae being that wide range of Germanic tribes slowly converting to Christanity by the time of the war, with humans of that area being similar but getting a head start in Christanity‒ which spread further with the war and Christianization overtime which occurred with the Goths as well. This is exactly why Christians had adopted "gothic" architecture because of that access to Germanic culture and art, especially with the shift from classical architecture and art which was more solid/structured and realistic (with idealistic components), into more figurative, and allegorical representations of art in the Christian religions‒ reflecting in the magnificence and skeletal feel of Gothic architecture. I imagine there were remnants of Celtic/Pagan culture and mythology however despite the general aesthetics of the Valley of Thorns, which is early gothic that are rooted in Germanic and Christian architecture (even though the film takes place in the 14th century in the high gothic era‒ really wish they went all out with the gothic stuff but nooo disney NEVER gives me historic accuracy or consistency >:((( ).

This also makes sense why the reader is reading a Christian text, because there were cultural shifts during the time. "Dearly beloved" is likely a Christian interpretation of Greek's agapétos during I believe was during the Renaissance when Christianity was returning to Classical ideas. Agape is the "highest form of love", which transcends everything like the Christian God's love (and most gods I believe since they're all made in the image of humans). Or as usual I made this more convoluted than it actually is lmao

Chose sickles as your weapons of choice because A) um, they're cool and B) because they're a weapon of harvest while being your weapons in destruction‒ its stuck between life and death as you are before you meet and get acquainted with Lilia.

The part where you hug is inspired partially from paradise lost‒ where Adam contemplates eating the forbidden fruit after Eve does. "Should God create another Eve, and I / Another rib afford, yet loss of thee / Would never from my heart; no, no, I feel / The link of nature draw me: flesh of flesh, / Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state / Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe."/“One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself” I'm not Christian nor have any meaningful connection to Christianity outside the academic realm but boy Milton's poetry make me yearn

Uuuhhh I'm so bad at endings lmk if that sounded good I wanted to do something bittersweet

[catacropolis]

Random character boxes

[rosietrace]

「 Imítheos 」

꒷꒦꒷•°•═════ஓ๑❂๑ஓ═════•°•꒷꒦꒷

“Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.”

꒷꒦꒷•°•═════ஓ๑❂๑ஓ═════•°•꒷꒦꒷

『 Name Meaning 』

Imítheos — Meaning “Demigod” in Greek.

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱𓆝⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤†

Imítheos (イミテオス) is a private sanctuary made to protect the children of Greek Gods, referred to as ‘Half-bloods’.

The sanctum was founded by Helena, a centaurette descended from Chiron — a centaur in Greek mythology most known for training a great number of ancient Greek heroes.

Together with Helena, there is Diona; A demigoddess born from Dionysus — God of Wine and Madness — and a mortal mother, who died shortly after her birth. Diona is the head director of Imítheos, acting as a stand-in for Helena when she's too consumed by other matters in need of attendance.

꒷꒦꒷•°•════ஓ๑❂๑ஓ═════•°•꒷꒦꒷

𔘓 Imítheos was created as a private sanctuary to protect the children of the Olympian Gods. This idea was pitched by Helena after it became clear to her that the Gods cared very little for their children.

↳ Not that she'd say that to their faces.

𔘓 Imítheos is twisted from/heavily inspired by Camp Half-blood from the series, ‘Percy Jackson and the Olympians’ by Rick Riordan.

𔘓 The sanctum is located on a secluded island that sits near the Island of Heroes. It is protected by an enchanted barrier that was created by several founding members of Imítheos — who were children of Hecate.

↳ The barrier is strengthened by a large tree that sat at the entrance of the campsite, rumored to have been planted in honor of a fallen demigod that risked their life for their companions’ safe retreat.

𔘓 Within Imítheos, lies several factions based on the Gods within the Greek pantheon. The largest factions are typically of the 12 Olympians, however, there are factions made for children of the minor Gods.

「 Main Story — The Lost God 」

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱𓆟⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤†

𔘓 The main 12 factions of Imítheos

↳ Those participating in Imítheos are allowed to make their own faction for minor Gods, with permission via asks/dms.

「 Important Note: Hades and the Maiden Goddesses ‘Divisions’ are not for their demigod children, but rather for individuals blessed by them despite being children of another God. 」

「⚡」 Division of the Ruler of Olympus

「🔱」 Division of the Ruler of the Seas

「⚰️」 Division of the Ruler of the Underworld

「🌾」 Division of the Goddess of Harvest

「🎇」 Division of the Goddess of the Hearth

「🔨」 Division of the God of Artisans

「⚔️」 Division of the God of War

「🦉」 Division of the Goddess of Wisdom

「🕊️」 Division of the Goddess of Beauty

「↹」 Division of the God of Mischief

「🏹」 Division of the Goddess of the Hunt

「☀️」 Division of the God of the Sun

꒷꒦꒷•°•═════ஓ๑❂๑ஓ═════•°•꒷꒦꒷

「 ❂ That's all we can see, at least right now… 」

[haryuwu]

🪞 Twisted Wonderland | Le Mirage

Author's note: Chapter 5 is here! 👏 After several months of not writing, I have returned to finish where I left of. Thank you for waiting this long as well! 🥺

“So you’re saying…” The Saintess of the Mirage family can see the future. Shocking, but not impossible to imagine. Those who are given a powerful gift are said to be favored by god. Such power she holds…to witness calamities before her eyes must’ve shaken her spine knowing it is meant to be inevitable.

“I never felt even more threatened in my entire life before! Was she implying that something terrible will destroy my school?!" The headmage slammed his palms against his table in distraught. The two yelped at the sight of an angered crow—and for once, they thought not to provoke him especially when it involved the college’s grave predicament. 

It was indeed an outrageous prophecy, however, they couldn’t confirm it just yet now that the Saintess had not yet clarified what was going to happen in the future. Was it close to happening? 

Just a few years away? Weeks? Days? Or…in just a few hours? Oh dear…let's not assume the worst just yet. 

"Anywho, whatever she had declared to me, the event must continue! If something strange happens, notify me right away," they stammered before they could deliver their protest. They were eventually shooed away from the headmage’s office, door slamming behind them before they could even see his disastrous rage.

Grim scratched the back of his head as he broke the silence between them, “...So what now? Should we just tell the others about this?” Obviously, they shouldn’t. Grim must’ve forgotten what the headmage had just explained earlier. The Prefect could only wish he had paid more attention to the problem.

Although it is indeed alarming enough to announce it to their friends…Wasn’t the headmage supposed to ask them another favor regarding this issue? How peculiar...Perhaps he’s too confident to say that no terrible things will occur in this school. Or is he becoming more responsible to do his job as the headmage?

Maybe, just maybe…let’s just leave it at that.

The platinum gray haired maiden rushed towards the forest as it is the only place she could think of heading first. The breeze caresses her every being, every strand of her locks sway beautifully along with her dirtied skirt. Her trembling did not come from the cold wind but her fear of failing to pass a message she’s been itching to tell the world.

…Not the world, but just anyone at this point.

“I’ve done it…I finally said it.” Same words escaped her lips, repeating them like a broken record. Her knees soon failed her by the time she gazed up at the sky as it was peeking through dancing tree leaves. The grass pierced the surface of her skin without wounding her, but she wished it was painful enough to wake her from dazing. It gave her enough space to take deep breaths and just stare at the sky blankly whilst the light went through the gaps of greens from above. 

Beside her is a puddle of water that has yet to evaporate completely. Yet she instinctively shut her eyes, avoiding it ever existing.

Louise can feel her eyes throbbing with a strong burning urge behind her eyelids, assumingly searching for another story to be witnessed that has yet to be foretold. Yet more questions loomed within her, then confusion soon took over. This power she holds is becoming more uncontrollable the closer the prophesied event gets as the days go by.

“...Why did I just say that to the headmage? Of all people—” The moment she blurted out the words she’s not supposed to spill…she regretted it instantly. She did expect him to doubt her words. It was never new to her that someone wouldn’t believe what she has seen through a glass or anything alike. 

However, a small voice still shouts within her heart that she must announce it to him as he was the only adult she can confess about the danger his school will be in. If they still keep doubting her words…the brightness of her existence will soon be tainted with ink. Utter darkness that every mage avoids from corrupting them.

'What if they continue to ignore it? What if they don't believe me?' Those questions continue to leech on her, recalling when everything fell apart that the truth she spoke of ended up being trampled coldly. Was it the time she made her first friend?

Ah, yes.

It was when she first came to realize she possesses an ability that every Mirage wanted to have, yet seen by many as either a bane of magic or a blessing. Even from a young age, she kept witnessing glimpses of occurrences through a looking glass or anything that's clear enough for her to stare intently. 

She was only 5, innocent, pure, and as bright as the full moon. Her beauty is tremendously adored by many. The girl could only wish for a friend around her age to play with in which her parents quickly fulfilled. She was moved by their willingness to give her anything. After all, she’s their one and only precious daughter.

However, those things had only given her temporary joy. It was supposed to make her happy, so they kept introducing her to other children that may interest her. Yet to no avail, little Louise could only force a smile while stating her gratitude.

What exactly caused their daughter to feel so blue? They had no idea, they never asked her even once. They could only think of making her meet more people to create stronger connections for their business. As the only heir of the Beau Company, it is natural to go through these lengths.

Despite their efforts, their daughter eventually began to forget how to smile genuinely. The only reason that has been keeping their daughter aloof was that she was often called a liar. 

.

.

.

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"Louise, Louise! You told me you can see the future, right? The thing where you don’t use a wand at all?" One of her cousins was genuinely curious how her ability works. She constantly asked her questions even if she wished not to answer them as she finds them quite frivolous.

"Could you tell me what I will be in the future? Will I marry a handsome man? Or a wealthy one?!" …Such as these questions.

Louise was taught not to rudely refuse any requests from her family. She was born to be a frank type of person and believes her ability will only be used for emergencies. She speaks her mind, even her thoughts may spill from time to time. She eventually learned to mind her words, may it be in front of a relative or a stranger. That’s thanks to being in a well off family, any proper etiquette was taught to the child.

"Please…give me a moment," Little Louise pulled out her pocket mirror to look through. There was a glint in her eyes that oftentimes any person close to her would mistake them as real gems. In fact it was how images of the future flash before her eyes.

After seeing the events through the pocket mirror, her brows slightly furrow before breaking the news to her expectant cousin. 

"You…" She paused as she felt her stomach churn. It was not a side effect from seeing the future…rather it was the future that she finds troubling for a child to see. But since her cousin asked, she might as well tell her honestly.

"I'm sorry, but from what I saw through the mirror…you wouldn't marry a handsome man. To be more precise, you won't be able to marry anyone."

"W-What do you mean? You’re pulling my leg, are you, Louise?"

"I do not intend to sing lies to you, my dear cousin. I am only telling what I really saw and that’s the truth," Her firm statements greatly angered her cousin, causing her to throw a tantrum. Because of this, Louise was believed to be a lying young lass whose appearance is perceived to be the only thing that’s great about her. 

At first, this little argument among the children of Mirages didn't bother her in the slightest. She was still confident in her looks as she is a spitting image of their great grandmother. But the more she was given ugly nicknames by her relatives, the more she lost her self esteem.

This problem kept occurring again, and again, and again, and again…

And again. 

Until one night…looking at herself in the mirror became unbearable. Little Louise announced to her parents that their ungrateful daughter does not want to see herself through any mirrors or glasses from this day onwards. Her every word caught all of them off guard. This child, who just turned 12, detests this ability that they so badly want to get their hands on. 

“It has greatly…ruined the connections you’ve worked hard on to make our family known again, mother, father. So, I do not wish to use it anymore,” she said as she lowered her head apologetically in front of the elder Mirages, that includes her parents. At first they questioned why she doesn’t want to use such a rare ability passed down for centuries. 

But her next response utterly silenced them.

“...No one ever once said the previous Saintess was a liar.” As much as she speaks the truth, there will be those who still envy such power bestowed upon her and completely disregard her pleas. 

“Indeed, you were right. You are an ungrateful child. If you do not want to become the next Saintess, how else are you going to increase your influence throughout Twisted Wonderland?!”

Her pleas were denied. Their sudden change of tone had caused her fear for the first time. Only apologetic words escaped her lips just as how she breathes. And now she never once again spoke about what she wanted after her parents were told to watch over her strictly from now on. 

Louise von Mirage grew up not to protest against her family ever again.

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.

.

.

“Ah…” She almost thought the sky was sorrowful as she was. Beads of tears roll down her pristine skin. All the yells that rung inside her head formed into these salty pearls she has always wanted to throw into the sea. There’s still a pang in her heart that has yet to close its wounds. But who would be able to fix this miserable lady?

One person comes to mind as she clumsily wipes off her tears.

“I…have to send another letter to Vil,” Indeed, it was the boy she used to be with since childhood. Her only hope to escape from the shackles of the name Mirage. “I still haven’t received a reply as usual. Shall I give him a visit?” While still feeling lightheaded, Louise staggered to stand and walk back to Night Raven College in search of the dorms. 

…Knowing that she’ll get lost on her way.

At last, she managed to sneak into the Hall of Mirrors. The students seem to be busy within their respective dorms. Not even a single student roaming outside was found skipping to do a hectic preparation for her supposed arrival to the school. It is as if the school became an abandoned castle, similar to what she had witnessed through the looking glass.

“Which dorm was it again? He never told me anything before he blocked me from all of his socials…” Looking at each portal, there are notable dorm emblems on the walls made in gold. Fortunately, she recalls the attire Vil wears and what students like him always gush and complain about. Looks. 

She hopes she’ll spot attractive boys or just as presentable with proper posture as he does. She fears she might mistake a different dorm by just following someone who fits the criteria. “What was the color of their uniform again…? Was it violet?” A fitting color for his image. “Aah…I wish I could see his posts in Magicam. If only he didn’t block me,” she released a sigh before sneaking to the corner. 

Torches flicker in silence as she waits for students to appear in and out of their dorms. Only a few came out in crimson vests with very notable symbols painted on their faces. “What a unique makeup,” she thought. But it’s not what she’s looking for and continued to wait for more students to come out.

Soon a group of well built students rushed out of their dorm noisily. Their strides terrified the young lady at the corner as she held her breath. It wasn’t due to the smell they emit, but due to their nature of sensing her very presence. Their ears perked up towards her direction and yet they chose to ignore their instincts. Perhaps the spell she used still hasn’t worn off.

30 minutes had passed and her feet were beginning to go numb. She watched every student come and go with different comments about the upcoming ball. Assumptions on how the Saintess would look like, interests, dislikes…and gossip of finding a suitor. It was interesting enough to know what people know more about her, however…no one knows who she truly is. 

The poor damsel is just nothing but a reflection of what they want her to be. 

“We should’ve returned 10 minutes ago! Ugh, look how tanned I’ve become. If our housewarden saw me, I wouldn’t hear the end of his scolding,” A certain student caught her attention. Purple vest, neatly clothed, sort of pompous…Yes, this is it. They are the ones she’s been looking for. 

“Pomefiore…” As she whispered the dorm’s name while an image of Vil came into her mind, she didn’t waste any more time and went through the portal. The students who she followed unknowingly lead her close to the dorm’s gates. 

“Huh? Did you sense that?” One of the boys Louise has been tailing turned to ask his friends. Guessing from her energy waning, the spell of cloaking is close to breaking. She must find a spot to hide and slowly replenish her energy. 

With a quick side step, she hid behind one of the large vases to avoid suspicion. Her feet were bare and did not make a noise, fortunately. Assuming that every Pomefiore student is busy decorating the lounge, she mustn’t step into that area and find Vil quickly.

“But where is hisroom…?” She pondered for a moment. She cannot check every room without disturbing any boys in the building nor try to spy on them by gathering information that will surely waste her time.

A sound of clacking of a heel can be heard from a distance. Someone was approaching, so Louise quickly ran and hid herself behind the curtains. She prayed that no one would notice her bare feet exposed.

“Ah, roi du poison. I have seen your latest ad today. The moisturizer you’ve introduced to me miraculously softened the tips of my fingers!” A voice of a young man who seems to be eccentric echoed through the halls. 

“I have ordered 5 more boxes! Even without opening its lid, it smelled divine.” Smell…the lady thought of an idea. But she must hear the rest if ever he mentions the exact smell of this moisturizer…so that she must buy a whole set of it after this!

“It has a lot of fragrances and the staff insisted I use all of them. One of the samples was lavender. It sticks longer than the rest.” Louise’s chest tightens for a moment as he recognizes the other student’s voice. Isn’t that…

“Vil…?” There was no noise that left her mouth to speak that very name of the guy she’s been searching for at this very moment. It was as though uttering it in his presence would take her breath and lose him once again. 

“Oh yes, indeed! Didn’t you also mention she preferred that specific fragrance when you were both young?” Vil stopped on his tracks and faced the guy who she does not recognize. He seemed rather annoyed by his remarks. 

“Would you mind dropping this subject about her? I know you’re curious but it isn’t the right time,” Knowing the position of an important person within this building must’ve been incredibly hectic and exhausting. Keeping the same beauty to ever glow tremendously is also one of his jobs in the industry. Hearing that the talk about her bothers him…perhaps he hasn’t forgotten about the incident after all. 

“But dodging this subject wouldn’t do any good to your complexion. Don’t you think it’s time we try to mend your ties with her?” There’s nothing scarier than the silence before speaking the truth or a lie. The very things she couldn't handle from the boy she admires.

“...My ties with the Mirage are all tightened knots. Cutting it off is easier than trying to loosen it. So there’s nothing to mend,” Vil shattered Louise’s hopes of getting to reach for him once more. If that’s what he thinks of her, only one of the Mirages, then all of her effort to run away from the beginning was all for naught.

The pain she has felt from years ago suddenly returned, crushing her heart. She only stepped out just to see his silhouette going further away from her. She couldn’t feel her numb feet anymore nor did she feel the pearls of salt rolling down her cheeks. Unable to scream his name, she decided to turn away. However, when she finally turned around…

“Huh…?” A beautiful boy stood just 5 feet away with his mouth agape from the sight of her. He couldn’t react as loudly as he usually does as if he was struck by lightning. 

‘Who’s this?’ He thought. ‘A ghost? She’s too stunnin’!’ Although before his voice could utter those same questions, she disappeared into thin air. The glow she emitted shocked his young heart and those sorrowful eyes…At that moment, he’s convinced that what he just witnessed might’ve been a roaming ghost of beauty.

A weeping white lady.

“R-Rook! You saw that, didn’t you?! I can’t be the only one who saw that, right?!” Rook, who turned his head the moment before the lady disappeared, smiled from ear to ear. He sensed that someone had been spying on them even before Epel arrived. He secretly used his signature spell to locate her later if ever she attempts an escape. 

Her face was something that completely invaded his memory as soon as he saw her eyes. That beauty almost moved him to tears. 

“My…I don’t know what you’re talking about, monsieur crabapple.” Yet he still lied through his teeth.

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter ➵ Next Chapter

[nonokoko13]

If I see someone else trying to defend Kalim/Jamil by attacking the other or their enjoyers and misreading and boiling down their characters by saying Kalim is stupid or how Jamil is the only one at fault in their situation I'll be the one overblotting. Why you pit two victims of an awful hierarchy system they weren't asked to be stuck with. Why you have to treat people who respectfully disagrees with you in something like a series or a character interpretation like they're criminals who must be shamed or punished with death. How do you play a game that relies on narrative without actually reading. Why can't you use the block/mute button instead of engaging in a conversation you know it will be unpleasant for all parts to make it a fight you want to win. And why I see so many mysoginy/misandry in a game that it's about a lot of male characters with a main character who can be the gender you imagine them to be

[suntails]

soooo eepy sleepy

[illustrationist-of-the-stars]

(I don't remember if I already asked)

Do you plan on writing any fan fiction or drawing mini comics series for your TWST X HSR YUU!CHARACTERS AU?

I've been dying to read a Jing Yuan! Yuu fan fiction story! I want to, but I'm too concerned about not getting his character personally right.

You didn't yet, don't worry! ^_^

And to answer your question- in Fan fiction wise, I actually have written my fair share of fan fiction stuff before on Quotev, one of them was a Madoka Magica Reader X Twst crossover believe it or not, but I sort of learned from that experience that you gotta have a lot of motivation, a wide vast of knowledge in vocabulary and know how to use and learn it whilst also having a lotttt of commitment to it which, sadly I didn't quite have at the time, commitment wise, I mean.

Because of that I experienced my actual serious burn out that way and lost all motivation to continue writing since I wasn't really happy with it anymore. I hope to one day revisit it but until then, it's in the back burner for awhile.

So will I write any actual fan fiction for my HSR!Yuu's X Twst AU? Not really likely to happen, to be perfectly honest.

But don't worry! That's why I tend to use my own art now to let it speak for itself and for my writing to bleed through it for me through artpieces or sketched out short comic's.

And to make an actual comic series out of some of em'? Well, depends on how many people really want it or the demand on certain characters that I have knowledge of to write about prior before I actually commit to something as long as that. Might make one or two poll's on it if any of you guy's are interested in a full length comic series, so let me know! :D

Until then, gotta go through my other asks now so hope you have a good morning, evening, afternoon and most importantly, a good night wherever you all are! 💫

[the-banana-0verlord]

Yuu singing the consensus song to Ace and Deuce during the prologue

[the-great-empress]

All for the money

Coming soon...