Leona Kingscholar.

uwu

Give the boys and girls my (platonic) love.

they accept it uwu

kawaii!

YAY PIRATES!  2p + pirates = 2p pirates ⚔💣🏴‍☠️⚓

2ps as pirates

[Oh mysterious anon you know my likes so well uwu]

Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪsʜ~★

found these lovelies on my walk this morning 🐝

🪶The Crow’s Fledgling🪶

(Dire Crowley)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Summary: Headmaster Dire Crowley is generous, simple as that. But why? What’s in it for him to be kind to you?

Such a question races through your mind persistently when you are given a strange letter from him. Why does he keep you around? You’re magicless and penniless. Utterly useless.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Headmaster Crowley was like a to-do list that never ended. Whether it was organizing his filing cabinet, mopping the dining room floor, or taking pictures of the students for the yearbook, he always kept you on your toes.

And today was no exception.

You had just finished helping some Heartslabyul students deadhead the rose garden when Grim came bounding up to you with a letter in his mouth. You recognized the black wax seal, bearing the NRC crest, and cringed.

What does Crowley want with me now? you thought.

"No doubt it's a load of orders," said Grim, seemingly reading your mind. "Crowley doesn't seem to let you have a day off."

Your face fell.

"Listen," he said. "I'm not fond of lettin' my henchman slack-off, but I could always burn the letter and pretend you never saw it."

"You would do that for me?"

"Sure. In exchange for an extra can of tuna."

You internally sighed. Of course, you thought. There has always got to be a reward in it for you.

You glared as Grim curled up under the shade of a rosebush, gloating about how he could relax and you couldn't. The letter in your hand began to feel like lead. The choice to ignore Crowley and have a free evening was irresistible. You were tired, hungry, and still had a mountain of homework to tackle. But, as you took a moment to think about it, could you really afford to say no to Dire Crowley?

Calling it 'generosity' to give you a derelict dorm and force you to work for him had made you laugh at first, but in all honesty, it was generous of him. You had woken up in a random world with no network and nothing to your name. And with no knowledge about Twisted Wonderland or a drop of magic in your veins, you were defenseless and witless. Yet, Dire Crowley had allowed you to stay at his school, and even though Ramshackle was a glorified mausoleum, it was shelter. You had clothes on your back, food in your stomach, and had managed to establish yourself amongst the student body. Not only were you indebted to the man for sticking his neck out for you, but also, you dreaded to think what would happen if you were dismissed for being lazy. You had nowhere to go.

Upon coming to this conclusion, you decided to bite your lip and just read the darn thing. Grim let out a groan as you slipped a small card out of the envelope.

"What?" you said. "I'm being a good henchman, aren't I?"

"But you're supposed to be my henchman," he whined. "Who's going to get me dinner tonight if you're too busy obeying the Headmaster?"

You shrugged. "Ace and Deuce? Kalim and Jamil? Anyone. Heck, Idia's always wanted a cat. I'm sure you could lynch some junk food out of him if you begged."

Grim's ears perked up. "That's quite a menu," he said, licking his lips.

All of a sudden, you didn't seem so interesting to the magical feline anymore and he bolted off into the depths of Heartslabyul like a tiger on the hunt.

On the hunt for tarts, you thought.

Turning your attention back to Crowley's letter, you were surprised, and relieved to see just two simple sentences:

COME TO MY OFFICE AT SIX O'CLOCK.

DON'T EAT ANYTHING BEFOREHAND.

Your brow creased with confusion. Why would he tell you not to eat? You were already starving from a full day's worth of work and six o'clock wasn't for another hour. However, you supposed it was better than getting asked to do chores. So, with a grumbling stomach and tired eyes, you marched off to the library to do a spot of homework before your rendezvous.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The sun was already beginning to set on the horizon. Due to being situated on an island, NRC always had sunsets that kissed the ocean. The water rippled like cider in the golden glow, a sweet and intoxicating sight. You watched the waves as you trekked upstairs to Dire's Office. You friends called it the 'Crow's Nest' because it was located right at the top of the school, and your chest was heaving by the time you knocked on the door.

"Perfectly punctual!" came a voice from the other side. "Come in, come in, (Y/N).”

The office looked as it usually did, with dark drapes and a large desk; the portraits of the school patrons hung behind it haphazardly. Yet there was no Headmaster.

You took a step into the office...

BAM!

The door slammed behind you. It gave you such a fright your heart leaped into your throat, and then a pair of hands draped over your eyes and you were blinded. Chuckling filled your ears.

"No peeking now, dear fledgling," said Mr Crowley. "It'll ruin the surprise."

"Holy-! What the heck, sir!" you exclaimed. Crowley's fingers tightened around your face, telling you to watch your tone.

"Now, now," he said cheerfully. His knees pressed into your legs, instructing you to move forward. "Is that any way to talk to your generous employer? Even after I went to all this effort?"

What effort?

You heard the distinct change of wood to hard stone as you paced out of the office and into the open air. Confused, you brought your hands up to Crowley's and pried them away.

The air hitched in your chest.

A circular dinner table, blanketed in a white cloth, was set up on the office balcony. Two places had been set with intricately cut glasses and cutlery that shined in the gentle moonlight. Crowley put a hand on your shoulder.

"I am a generous Headmaster, my dear fledgling," he said, squeezing softly. "And I think it's only right to reward you for your service once in a while. You've gone above and beyond the call of duty, especially with the overblot cases, all while keeping your head up and going against the grain each and every day. Don't think I haven't noticed."

You stared up into the pale yellow light behind Crowley's mask, opening and closing your mouth yet making no noise. What could you say?

"Sir...this...this..."

Crowley waited expectantly.

"This isn't an excuse to get out of marking exam scripts, is it?"

His face fell.

"Absolutely not!" he cried, pressing his free hand to his chest dramatically. You weren't convinced. "Is it a crime to appreciate one's staff?"

An image of Professor Trein and Crewel sharing a surprise dinner with Crowley flashed across your mind and you nearly snickered.

"And no," he went on, "it won't be taken out of your paycheque."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You let yourself be guided over to the table. The chair moved out for you all on its own and a serviette fluttered onto your lap the moment you sat down. Crowley sat across from you and snapped his fingers. Two plates appeared, filled with what appeared to be grilled vegetables; their aroma delicate yet distinctly smoky.

"Cheers, Prefect," said Crowley, lifting his glass. "To you."

A huge grin adorned your face. This was so kind, so thoughtful. And, admittedly, so deserved, too. Crowley had really outdone himself. All these months of endless work had made you start to believe you were nothing but a lackey. It felt so wonderful to be proven wrong, especially in this way. You made a hasty grab for your glass, already filled with a sparkling beverage...but you stopped.

Deftly, your hand hit the table, making your cutlery jingle like wind chimes. Crowley tilted his head with puzzlement.

Tears suddenly began to prick your eyes.

"Fledgling?" the Headmaster asked, a concerned tone to his voice. "Whatever is the matter? You aren't allergic to aubergines, are you?"

You shook your head. You couldn't believe how ridiculous you were being. Crying in front of the Headmaster? While he'd gone to all this effort to treat you? And for what? You couldn’t quite put your finger on why you had started acting so emotional. Instinctively, you lowered your head and wiped your eyes with your sleeve.

"It's nothing," you said quickly.

You couldn't see Crowley, since you were too interested in your lap, but you heard him put down his glass and push back his chair. A moment later he was beside you, crouching down to get a better look at your face. You looked away.

"(Y/N)? Tell me what's wrong this instant."

"It really is nothing, sir," you said, forcing yourself to smile. "Let's just enjoy our dinner. No doubt you're as starving as I am-"

Suddenly, Crowley grabbed your arms and dragged you upwards off your seat. You whipped your gaze up to him. Two piercing lights stared into your eyes. They seemed to analyze your soul; rummage around inside your skull for answers.

"Don't play me for a fool," he said darkly.

"I-I wasn't-"

"I doubt those are tears of joy running down your face. Answer me, (Y/N)."

Unbeknownst to you, a stray tear was flowing freely down your cheek. It trickled down to your jaw, leaving a cool trail in its wake, and fell directly onto Crowley's wrist. You were tempted to pass the droplet off as rain, but there was no way he'd believe that. The night was clear.

"I just don’t know why, sir,” you managed to finally croak out. "Why are you doing this?"

Crowley didn't flinch, a silent order for you to continue. You felt your body grow limp, surrendering all your energy to speaking.

"I have no magic. No money. Barely any skills. Everything you ask me to do, I do sometimes without even knowing how and make things worse. Yet, you still allow me to stay here, even going so far as to do things like this for me? I just don’t understand why. I certainly don’t deserve it.”

The grip Crowley had on you grew tighter, his claw rings digging into your flesh. You winced. Had you said something wrong? Ought you not have mentioned sometimes 'making things worse?' Would he cut his losses after this? Dread pooled in your stomach. You were glad you hadn't eaten anything yet because you felt as though you'd be sick.

After a painfully long minute, he said: “It’s because you're just a child.”

"W-What?"

"Like a lamb in a lion's den." His grip got so tight it tore the fabric of your shirt. "You've been plunged into this world knowing nothing. Did you honestly expect me to let you fend for yourself?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed. "Surely I mean nothing to you! Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but you owe me nothing and have still given me so much.”

Finally, his grip loosened on you. You sighed with relief, reaching up to massage your biceps. You could see faint red crescent moons where his claws had dug in. However, your fingers had barely stroked your shirt before you were pulled into a hug.

"Ridiculous," said the Headmaster.

You went stiff as a board. Your body seemed to have suddenly shut itself down, locked up and thrown away the key. All you could do was breathe and blink. "It's been a pleasure watching you learn and grow over these past few months,” he went on. “And you do mean something. Something to everyone here. And, I’ll confess, I've begun to see you more as an errand-runner."

You didn't know if it was because of you or not, but Crowley's chest began to tremble as if he was tearing up, too.

"I’ve seen so many students pass through these walls. I’ve seen their faces disappear into the vast sea of life year after year, go back to their families holiday after holiday. But you, you are like my own child. So innocent, so eager to please, and my responsibility beyond that of being your Headmaster. How can I possibly even think of getting rid of you when seeing your smile and achievements feel like my own-“

So many emotions flooded you: relief, disbelief, serenity, gratitude, that you jumped at the chance to hug him back. Your arms wrapped around him so tightly. You had no clue that you had made such an impact on this man. He saw you as his own child? And, deep down, had you begun to see him like a father figure? Perhaps. He had always provided everything you needed, even if those things weren't exactly perfect, or even decent. The crux of the matter was that Crowley had looked after you.

"Thank you, sir," you muttered into his ear.

A light hum was his reply. "Always, my fledgling. Now, come and dry those eyes. Our starters are getting cold."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I hope you liked this :)

And thank you so much for 300 followers! Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated x

The Light at the End of the Trench

✂ Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x Female! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,5k

✂ Warnings: -

[Edited]

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***

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