#Knave/lizard

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

OTP storytime ouatiw edition: Scarlet Queen

Anastasia Tremaine/Will Scarlet (feat. Ana/the White King)

Scarlet Queen or Red Knave (the Red Queen/Knave of hearts) (feat. Red Sorcerer : the Red Queen/Jafar)

Little interlude for Knave/Lizard

back to Scarlet Queen feat. Red Sorcerer

Anastasia and Will

The White King and Queen of Wonderland

Sadly there wasn't a good beard for Jafar and Ana's wedding dress was red but oh well.

I miss them 💖

[lunastars21]

"Just leave me alone.."

Quick doodle as Superstars is trending on Twitter

Give this man a break..

[sketchf4ngz]

[f4nggzz]

[knizuu]

BASED ON BUMBLEKAST: SNAGGLE THE JERBOA [Anti Fang] AND STUMBLES THE LIZARD [Anti Trip] <33 I LOVE EM I claim CEO >:]

[thecount03]

So custom chao are a thing now

[shalomniscient]

ever so often, arlecchino finds you outside in the house's sprawling garden surrounded by the children. at any point, you could be showing them any manner of creature you've somehow managed to grab (gently, of course). just the past week it was a crimson finch that had accidentally flown into the window, and before that it was some lizard (green horned, she can almost hear you say indignantly) that had unfortunately not managed to scurry away from you in time. the children all watch with rapt interest as you cradle the little critter in your palms, softly relaying the assortment of miscellaneous facts you have stored somewhere in that brain of yours. it's an endearing sight, and one that arlecchino indulges in whenever she has the time, or feels the fatigue of staring at inane documents press against the backs of her eyes.

today, however, she watches sat beneath the shade of a willow tree, one leg crossed over the other and fingers curled around the handle of her teacup. it is a rare day of reprieve, and she spends it here in the mild fontainian mediterranean sun, her typical uniform shed in favor of a billowy white shirt and slim-fitting, high-waisted breeches. something has piqued yours and the children's interest, and all of you gather near the garden wall. she can hear the children whisper excitedly as you crouch down, and then they gasp as you stand up.

she raises a brow in interest herself. whatever it is your holding, it seems a little larger than your usual finds. however, with the crowd of children around you, it's difficult for her to actually see what it is you're holding. you spare her a glance over your shoulder, then a minute tilt of your head. a wordless invitation; come. and she does, easily, a thorny bloom to the sun, setting her teacup down with barely a sound and rising to her feet. her heels have been traded for something more casual, and her typical imposing stature has reduced somewhat--though the children still obediently part when she approaches.

"anything of note?" she asks. she studies your face carefully; from the curl of your lip to the creases at the corners of your eyes to the slope of your brow. of all things, she finds it is mischief that inhabits your expression, and she mentally prepares herself for whatever ridiculously endearing thing you're about to show her.

that 'ridiculously endearing thing', as it turns out, happens to be a rabbit--a rather plush, black-and white rabbit, sitting perfectly content in your arms. you're supporting the creature with one hand beneath its chest and the other beneath its hind legs, holding it close to you. some of the children gently pet the downy fur along its back, and the rabbit's black-tipped ears twitch in response, almost pleased.

"we found a little guest beneath the hedge line," you answer, glancing down affectionately at the creature. "the children were hoping they'd be allowed to keep it."

arlecchino snorts. "the children, or you?"

"rude," you shoot back, though the smile on your lips is still present. "come now, we've already thought of a name."

"is that so?" she drawls, her eyes narrowing a fraction at the rabbit. its own eyes, previously closed in contentment, open, and almost seem to challenge her. her fingers twitch behind her back.

"it is," you say, and there's a lightness to your tone that arlecchino knows is a harbinger of some form of mischief. her eyes meet yours, and they gleam with mirth. arlecchino wonders if the sun is ever envious of the way it is outshone. "would you like to hear it?"

she sighs, looking away. "proceed."

"thumper seems rather cute, no?" you answer innocently, batting your lashes, and internally arlecchino cringes. thumper. a name from a popular children's book, one that even a woman as cruel as the former knave would keep in stock in her library. a name, famously, that was attributed to the companion of the book's titular character, bambi.

bambi, which was also the name of the spider she once had as a child.

you notice her brief foray back into her memories, and draw her back with a soft laugh. thumper's ear twitches, and the little beast nuzzles closer against your chest. "no? well, we could always name him after you. you both seem to look quite alike, wouldn't you say? hm, how about per--"

"thumper is fine," arlecchino cuts you off, exasperation underlining her tone. there is an almost-scowl on her face, though the relaxed line of her shoulders gives away her true feelings. "the... creature, can stay. so long as it is properly cared for."

the children whoop and cheer, and your eyes soften into a thankful, tender look. thumper, now thoroughly loafing in your arms, wags his stubby little tail. perhaps he is somewhat cute, arlecchino muses, extending a hand to smooth down his fur--

--only for the traitorous little beast to lean away, cracking open an eye to glare almost witheringly at her. you coo as he presses close, and arlecchino's eye twitches. she doesn't know if rabbits have the capacity to make smug expressions, but she's willing to swear upon the tsaritsa's name that the damn creature is making that exact expression at her right now.

in hindsight, it's been a while since she's had rabbit stew.

[edgeray]

Peruere is a Person.

Inspired by my blurb series, "Arlecchino is a Person."

A/N - I did not write this. This was written by my wonderful friend @myfriendscallmebun. However, she didn't want to post it on her blog, so I'm posting it for her. All I did was some minor editing a little bit but almost every single word (minus like 2 or 3 words) was written by her. Every single like, comment, or reblog on this post is for her. I claim no ownership over this piece.

Arlecchino is not a person.

The Knave, Arlecchino, Father of the House of the Hearth, Fourth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers is not a person: she is a personification of lies and deceit spread amongst the populace, a conglomeration of exaggerated half-truths spread by veteran Fatui to scare the new recruits. Made of misconceptions and inferred information that paints a picture of a crazed and ruthless assassin–a wolf in sheep's clothing in essence; a bloodthirsty and manipulative patriarch whose tongue draws as much blood as the blade she so rarely uses. 

She’s a woman whose title alone carries a reputation that paralyzes opponents who catch just a whisper of her name. A woman whose flames scorch at the heels of those who were frozen in place by her ice cold presence alone. Arlecchino is a name that has people moving aside to let her pass by, a name that mothers hear and pull their children back into the houses from. She’s everything they say: a boogeyman–an icy breath you feel down your neck in your last waking moments, the shadows lurking around corners when you least expect; the thin veneer of an aloof diplomat that barely conceals the true mania beneath its surface. Arlecchino is at once everything she is made out to be, and nothing at all. Because Arlecchino is not a person, nor has she ever been.

Peruere is a person. She’s a woman, about 30 years old and 5’7”, although you wouldn’t realize it because she’s always wearing heels. She’s a woman who took on a title and responsibility far too young, a woman who was thrust into adulthood and the brutal world of the Fatui too early. She’s a woman who keeps few friends, and keeps her own children at an arm's length. She’s someone who has seen those around her–friend, ally, foe, and bystanders–be scorched and burned away to ash by her own hands. 

She’s someone who keeps her kids on a tight leash and strict discipline regiment, but the leash she keeps on herself is tighter. She allows her children to reprieve from the rules every now and then–turning a blind eye when they take a cookie before dinner, allowing them to keep a lizard they found as a pet for a while–but she does not afford herself the same. She’s harsh on herself, keeping every moment of her day regimented and as strict as the schedule she had growing up. Her children will live and experience far better than what she had, but she will still silently carry the burden of that time with her. 

Peruere is a person who is willing to look Dottore in the eyes–a man who she has watched take away what remaining, broken and mangled siblings she had, and knew full well what would be happening to them once they left with him- she is willing to look him in the eyes and allow him to experiment with her, with the balemoon bloodfire that curses her veins, on the hope that something good may come of it, something that can help her children.

She’s a woman who loves her kids, no matter how she can’t seem to show it. She’s a woman whose affection lies in the unspoken words behind what she actually says. 

“You’re home late.” (“I was worried about you.”) 

“Impulsiveness leads to failure.” (“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”)

“Your defense was weak, I know I’ve taught you better.” (“I cannot bear to lose another child out in the field. Please.”) 

Peruere is a woman who in some deep, dark part of her chest that she doesn’t like to acknowledge, allows herself to yearn for normality. She stares out her windows at the crowds of pedestrians and citizens making their way through the streets of Fontaine, “People-watching is a rather pleasant activity, in my opinion.” (“I would join them, if they would allow me.”) 

Peruere is a person who allows others to dictate what she should be–she allows the rumors and misconceptions to run freely amongst those who dare utter her name, even adding fuel to the metaphorical fire by being sure to live up to the reputation others have created for her. She allows her image to be muddy, full of contradictions and mistruths, and more than some mixing-ins of her predecessor. “It’s beneficial,” she says. (“It’s easier to be what people expect you to be, than to be yourself.”) 

Peruere is a person, even despite her best attempts to hide it.

[b0ba1nw0nd3rl4nd]

Roles:

Smiling Wonderland AU

Alice: Allan

White Rabbit: Pim

Tweedles: The Fun Twins (From the who murdered Salty episode) or Grim and Gnarly (Frowning Friends, IDK YET)

Bill (THE LIZARD): Rotten the f*cking snowman-

Dodo/Caterpillar/Duchess: Mr Boss (I DIDNT KNOW WHO TO USE FOR MR BOSS SO I THOUGHT U KNOW WHAT?! LES HAVE THIS MAN PLAY 3 F*CKING ROLES BABY!!!)

Duchess baby pig: ✨J A S O N✨

Cheshire Cat: Gwimbly or Charlie

Mad Hatter: Professor Psychotic

Sane Hatter (Family Guy reference): Doug

March Hare: Charlie or Gwimbly (AGAIN IDK)

Dormouse: Glep

Card Soldiers: The Bliblies

QOH: Brittney

KOH: Mr Landlord

Knave: Oscar

Gryphon and the mock turtle: Filmore and Duncan

[hatterhare]

Reblog with ur answer in tags! If a character is not listed, I've already designed them! If not, please remind me of who I'm missing :D

[curiousascuriouscanbe]

Reblog with your answer in the tags! This should be the remainder of my list, but if I realize I'm missing anyone, they'll be included next go round

[yohohonabottle]

Kidnapped knave

🖋️Summary: Well how did this happen??? Don't you just love it when you're bringing joy to everyone, and some random lizard swoops in & yoinks you away? Eh, guess this is part of the show. --Or-- The mouthy lil menace of a clown gets kidnapped by a dragon. Possibly karma for his stunt in the desert. Who nose.

Nothing out of the regular routine--Just performing for the boringly dull world of Esperia. Like namely bringing some much needed joy to a village in Holistone, for instance! Of course, those silly up-tight mortals wouldn't know fun if it smacks them in the face, so insistent on being serious and lamenting about it only. And then have the nerve to act shocked and horrified when he comes in to fix their problem. Tsk. Tough crowd, right? Oh well.

Ghastly cackling gleefully rings, the panicked villagers scrambling to hide away into their homes and call upon the Heroic Order. While they do that, the merry jingle of bells sneaks around--Obnoxious and grating. Every now and then, the shadowy mischief-maker jumps out from the ground with a giggle or amused taunt--Sometimes in one piece, sometimes as just his head followed up by his body casually leaning on its side then fall back into the ground.

No matter where the silly little village folks went, he was there whether they saw it or not. In the ground, in the walls, in the plants by the shutters of their windows, in their jumbled minds--Pulling goofy little pranks. Yet not once, did any one of the poor mortals die to his jests...Because the Hypogean chooses so.

What good is a performer without a rapt audience after all? Same reason for swatting off his other fellow dark beings whenever one or more would get a smidge too close to bringing the world's end. It simply wouldn't do. No more Esperia, no more chaos and no more show. 

Oh! The sheer tragedy! The sorrow! No, no, no! The show must go on! It must!

"Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies.~" -The winged Hypogean rasps with a playfully sing-song lilt in a low tone, strutting the streets and pretending to be oblivious, hands on his hips. The little girl hiding behind a nearby bush warily peeks from it at him. The other villagers stay in their homes, some cowering in a corner and chanting prayers to that pompous goddess of theirs; others watch him closely from their windows, hiding their children. 

"A-tishoo, a-tishoo~!" The little girl catches him look at her with one eye, the other closed and freezes where she's hiding. Trembles and tears begin to well up in her eyes, listening to his voice turn lower still. More sinister as the rhyme comes closer to its end. 

"We.all..fall—" Berial doesn't even so much as utter the last word and turn around, before something swoops right down.

A small baffled "A" squeaks out of the curly-haired fiend as talons wrap around him like grabbing a squeaky rubber toy—And snatch him up with the 'fwoosh!' of wings. Sending his top-hat falling with the rush of wind.

—"Ay! My hat!"

Try as he might, squirming out of the lizard's hold proves a no-go. Clicking his tongue in mock annoyance, the fool opens up a portal (wait, why is it so weak?? Hellow???) and grabs the hat with his tail, righting it back onto his head. A few more failed escape attempts later, Berial finally gives up with a loud bratty groan of obvious discontent and slumps with a petulant pout and a huff. Thoroughly bummed out, grumbling "Thanks for nothing, you useless reptile." under his breath sourly.

—"Where are we going anyways?"

[sketchf4ngz]

Btw I don't have many ideas for Bark's name, if anyone has any ideas I would appreciate it

Headcanon random: Bark isn't her deadname, she kind of made that name up on the spot :"D

(+some additional sketch)

[f4nggzz]

[cogentranting]

Ouatiw has as sort of its basis the idea that wishes (and to some extent magic in general) are a way of cheating the way that things are supposed to be, a shortcut. Wishes used poorly are about being willing to do whatever to get what you want. And then the villains are trying to go even one step farther, to break what few rules those wishes have to get their way. The genie's curse is framed in this way-- 'you have let your desires overrule the fates'. The big flaw is putting your desires before everything else.

But also the three laws of magic that Jafar and the Red Queen want to overthrow are each met in some way by the heroes. It's not that what the villains want is bad it is that they are willing to do anything to get it, and that most of the time, its not that their desires are totally out of reach otherwise, just that the path to them is harder.

Jafar and Alice want the same thing-- they want the love of an unjust father who withholds it. Jafar wants to use magic to force that. Alice ultimately gets that love from her father, through her steadfastness and patience and commitment to what she knows to be right (and it's acknowledged that she shouldn't have had to. Her father is wrong for making her prove herself when the love should have been given freely.) By contrast Jafar twists himself further and further to force that love and the Sultan hardens himself even more and dies remorseless.

The Red Queen wants to change the past and eventually as she returns to being Anastasia she does that, but not through magic. She doesn't wish away her mistakes, but she fixes them through repentance. And Will as the flip side of that-- also wanting to regain that past, and having to do so by just facing the pain, accepting his heart back. And once he has his heart back the way that they regain that lost past is not by undoing the past but by redeeming it through his act of forgiveness and grace to Ana.

And then Cyrus, who is not a villain but who jumpstarted everything by bringing back his dying mother at any cost (especially by risking his brothers to do so) is of course not ultimately able to bring back the dead, but has to actually face and accept her death, accept that sometimes his desires are not right and there is no way for him to have them. (This part is a little muddled by both Ana and Cyrus being brought back from the dead but you can kind of squint your eyes and go 'well there was something unjust and unnatural about their deaths because they died as a part of Jafar's upending of the natural order')

This same idea of it being wrong to pursue your desires at all costs, even when what you want is a good thing, is explored in smaller ways in multiple other episodes. Alice's test of being pure of heart where she chooses not to kill the queen, Will refusing to give the Caterpillar the Forget-me-Knot, Alice's temptation to stay in the Boro Grove, Will's choice to give up his heart (which is what ends up killing Lizard), the deal Will makes to bring the staff to Jafar. Over and over again probing the idea of what you would do to get what you want.

And notably, the wishes that don't go bad are all wishes made for other people-- Alice wishes to protect the knave, then her father, and then Will wishes to protect Alice.

[thecount03]

Funny Tupperbox moment from Fang Gang that I'm still laughing at, I'm swap Trip @lunastars21 is Fang

Also where swap Trip's pfp comes from: