#Divus crewel

[mellosdrawings]

It's canon. Trust me.

[waxx-win]

Heh….APRIL FOOLS EVERYONE!!! 🤗🤗

[akseliholt]

[jangmi-latte]

HE IS BEAUTY HE IS GRACE CREWEL SENSEI WHAT DID YOU DO TO DEUCE AND ACE

he puts good boy when he grades papers so imagine riddle's papers all has good boy on it crewel just buys a stamp of his handwriting LHSGHULZHULISHF

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Did we actually get Dolly and Anna current age? The request mentioned them being close to Crewel age but I thought they are like in their early or mid twenties 🤔

(it was a hilarious read by the way 😂 I just want to say I'm not trying to start a problem over the age I was genuinely curious. Adding this here just in case of others mistaken my intention lol)

Also I really like the headconan/theory (I think it's no confirmed yet?) of Anna being married to baker parallel to Cinderella 2 movie. Do you have any thoughts about this?

[Referencing this interaction!]

Dolly and Anna's current ages have not been confirmed yet! All we know is that they're "grown up" now and have moved out of Trein's home, so at the youngest they'd be 20-something and at the oldest, probably 30-something, maybe even pushing it close to 40. I think the requester of that interaction either has a different age headcanon or they just wanted to play around with the idea to incite an argument between Trein and Crewel. When writing, I kept their relative ages ambiguous in case canon ever comes out and says they're older/younger than we actually thought they were.

We don't have any details about Anna and Dolly's lives, or if they are married to anyone. I remember really liking the story of Anastasia and the baker from Cinderella 2 as a kid, so sometimes I play with the concept. I actually mentioned it once in another Trein interaction post. Dolly being a governess is also brought up there--and, while not canon, I wrote it as a reference to how Drizella and Lady Tremaine were made into scullery maids in Cinderella 3. I think Twst is at its best when it is incorporating Disney lore into its worldbuilding (rather than when Disney blatantly shoves its franchises at us), so I wanted to do the same in my own writing.

[twstyuna]

Intrusive thought

Maybe epilogue to this lol.

[ladyazurith]

[ominousslug]

yep. this is my contribution to the fandom here ! good day pals and buddies

[k-looking-glass-house]

Crewel Divus~ Cruella De Vil Tapis Rouge stylist edit

It has a lore.... but..... in my head... Just enjoy your dear alchemy teacher in the famous G*cci pattern and outfit!! Yes... he has a Labubu.... and the red fur coat is canon from the 90's live action!

Crewel: "Darling... red isn't your color!"

Crewel: "Ah you know that fur thing *patting the Labubu*... that woman gifted me one saying "looks like you Kuruella!"... how so..."

_credit_

Labubu The Monster (c) Popmart firm

Gucci inspi and fake pattern

game assets extracted by @alchemivich

[masa-yoshi-dan]

[monttzartt]

His emo son <3

[mellosdrawings]

I've been thinking about teen!Crewel too much recently.

[aykiii]

Юу балбеска и балуется (папа Круэл надавал ей позже по затылку)

[ryuichirou]

well?

[wakacchi]

Nonchalant contacts are just-- (♡´𓋰`♡)

How about read the other 2 pages on my ko-fi?

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

The Rain is Especially Loud Tonight

Synopsis: The Prefect gets hurt due to Crowley's negligence.

TW: Injury, Stitches, Medical Stuff, Prefect gets caught under a collapsed Ramshackle

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9 (coming soon), . . .

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The room would be completely silent were it not for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The environment was more comfortable than your usual medical setting, but it still felt cold in a way.

The door creaked open and in stepped professor Crewel. "Hey, Pup." His voice lacked its usual stern tone one would hear in the classroom; instead, his voice was gentle and almost hoarse.

The hoarseness was no doubt a result of him screaming at the headmage in a roar you shiver even recalling. He had spent hours tearing into the man for his gross negligence and irresponsibility.

"Pup?" His voice became more worried when you failed to answer.

"Sorry." A meek, rasped voice leaves you throat. Your throat burns with dryness despite the 6 glasses of water you already drank, and it feels like every syllable echoes through your head and causes an intense, throbbing pain. You don't recognize the voice that claws its way out of your throat as your own.

You hear the soft scrape of a chair on the floor next to your bed. "No. Don't apologize, Pup." Rocking your gaze slowly over to him its clear to you, with the way his jaw clenches and unclenches while his eyes search the blanket covering you, that he wants to say something, but isn't sure what.

You slowly rock your head to look forward again. "Everyone's been in such a panic. . .and it's my fault, I-"

The man cuts you off as you choke on your words: "Pup. This is not your fault."

"But-" Your throat feels like its been given a massage with a thousand razor blades. The coughing your attempts to speak cause only make the pain worse.

Crewel quickly grabs another glass of water and holds it up to your lips for you to drink. "But nothing, Pup- Keep those arms down or you'll re-open the wounds. That old building was bound to collapse at some point. We all knew it. If the fault is on anyone it's on us staff. Crowley made you stay there, and we didn't stop him." The glass cup clinks slightly too harshly onto the nightstand as he sets it down.

Silence falls between the two of you.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The ticking of the clock numbs your thoughts. You force your mind to stop focusing on the pain radiating from every inch of your body and instead listen to the steady ticking of the clock. The only other sound that can be herd is the occasional hurried footsteps outside the door as the other staff do their best to take care of the situation.

Your injuries have already been treated by a specialty team sent from STYX the moment the news got to them. They were the only ones aside from Grim, Leona, and the staff that had seen your mangled form before you were wrapped up like a mummy. You didn't have to ask how bad it was. Seeing Crowley throw up at the sight of you was enough to tell you it was bad.

The STYX team had spent nearly a whole 24 hours stitching you back together like some ragdoll and rearranging the many pieces of you that had been ripped and jostled out of place. If not for them. . .well, you don't want to think about it. If you looked like a mummy on the outside, you were sure that under the bandages you looked like Frankenstein's monster. There really wasn't a single bit of you that got out of that death trap unscathed.

You were kept in the school infirmary instead of being carted off to some high-tech STYX facility only because they needed to operate on you as soon as possible and didn't want to move you too much after the initial procedures. They made do by shipping a ton (literally speaking, more like 3 tons) of medical equipment to the school, most of which was now littered around the infirmary in a rushed yet professional way.

Despite your closeness to your friends, the only people who had come to see you were the staff. It's not that none of your friends wanted to see you, but that they weren't allowed to. The doctor's worried having them in so soon, when they were still full of hysteria from the news, wouldn't be the best idea. They weren't able to text you either as your phone had been crushed in the collapse.

"How's Grim?"

Professor Crewel hums: "Physically, he's pretty unscathed. He just has a few scrapes and bruises. Mentally, he's a bit traumatized."

You supposed that made sense. You didn't remember much, but what you did remember was Grim's voice. He had been returning to the dorm from after school detention when he found the building in shambles on the ground. He called out to you but your lungs were filled with debris and your torso was being crushed by layers of rubble. The dorm ghosts met Grim at the edge of the junk pile that used to be a dorm and confirmed that you were inside and that you needed help. The ghosts talked to you as you laid there, not being able to physically move anything off you themselves. They kept you awake and assured you that Grim was getting help.

Not long later you heard shouting. Two of the ghosts stayed with you while the third went out to meet the staff and fill them in. You were told after the fact that that's about the time they called up Leona to use his unique magic so they could get you out as soon as possible (that was the first time many saw the lion run).

You were blanking in and out of consciousness when they found you, but you remember them finding you. The feeling of the weight of the rubble lessening as it was methodically turned to sand and removed (in order to not end up crushing you with sand instead), the small grains dripping on your face, and eventually, the full force of the pouring rain battering your face as the last of the rubble was removed from above you. You remember Leona's manic eyes turning horrified, Crowley puking, and worst of all, Grim's face.

"STYX sent over a few trauma counselors. There are ones assigned specifically to Leona and Grim as well since they saw some of the worst of it." Crewel finally broke the silence again.

"And you? You and. . .the other teachers were there too. . .and Sam."

"Calm down, Pup. We've all had evaluations done to assess how we're handling it. We'll be fine.

"What about. . ." Your voice trails off, but from the look in your eyes, Crewel can tell what you were about to ask.

"What about the headmage?"

You nod, wincing slightly when the motion disturbs an injury on your neck.

"He's under investigation." Crewel responds after a brief pause. He knew that you surely couldn't be all that fond of the crow, but as you saw it, he was probably also your only ticket home. Crewel looked up to gauge your response, but your face remained neutral.

"And you, Pup? I obviously know you aren't doing particularly well physically right now, but what about mentally?"

"Hm?"

Crewel hesitated, not wanting to dig around in a mental wound and make it worse, "You were. . .under there for a while. I'm sure it must've been. . .scary."

You think for a moment before responding: "Was I really under there that long? It didn't feel like it. . .I think I passed out a few times." Your mumbled words put Crewel at ease in a way. He's not happy that you had been passing out, but he was at least glad that you weren't stuck under there fully conscious and feeling every second tick by as if it were an hour.

"Hmm. I see." Crewel nods. "I ought to let you rest now. A counselor will stop by tomorrow to talk to you about what happened." He stands up as he says this, his knuckles still white from how tightly he'd been gripping the fabric of his pants. "Rest well, Pup."

You simply nod, this time more carefully as to not disturb your wounds, and watch him walk out. When the door closes you swear you hear a choked sob.

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