#Mozus Trein

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good morning Trein-sensei! I was just curious about something, your daughters and Crewel-sensei are probably close in age right? Did they ever meet? Omg could you imagine if Crewel-sensei was your son-in-law?! You two would probably fight like...well cats and dogs.

I ACTUALLY LAUGHED OUT LOUD WHEN I GOT THIS ASK.

A Storied Past.

"I-I beg your pardon?!"

His composure shattered in an instant. Shock and horror colored Trein's face a unique shade of violet. The veins in his forehead bulged and flexed, rising with his agitation.

He stood from his desk, the legs of his chair harshly screeching as they were violently dragged against the floor. Trein slammed both hands down, taking on a low, almost menacing tone.

"They've met on a single occasion. It was a year or so after Professor Crewel had started working here as my colleague. At the time, Dolly and Anna had decided to surprise me with a visit at work, and that was when the encounter occurred..." Trein shook his head aggressively, as though he were (ironically) a dog shaking himself dry. "I walked into the teacher's lounge, and what did I see? Both of my daughters seated, giggling, and Professor Crewel entertaining them!

"Of course, I immediately put myself between them and shooed the girls off. I want not either of them to be charmed by that devilish man. A suitable school instructor, he may be--but a son-in-law, I will not allow!! Do NOT," he sputtered, "even suggest such a ridiculous thing! I won't hear of it!"

"Um... Is that a 'no' then?"

"It's more than a 'no', it's an 'ABSOLUTELY NOT'!!" Trein cried, the force in his voice nearly making you flinch. "Dolly or Anna, married to Professor Crewel? Him, my son-in-law?! I shudder to think of such a dark, twisted reality!!"

"Eh, but even Professor Trein has to admit that Professor Crewel is a cool and handsome guy... There's gotta be a lots of people his age vying for his attention."

"Hmph! I do not care what others' impressions of him are beyond an academic context. That is his business, not mine." Trein's hands curled into fists. Shoving his chair back, he sinks into the seat with an audible exhale. "I only care that he maintains his distance from my daughters.

"On my honor, he will NEVER become a member of this family!!"

[evilcokito]

finallllllllllllllly put in Trein the Lotus Suit. The leyend.

[san-marzano]

nrc rollo has alot of funny potential. poor trein

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

Diedre: Lil Sis

[Courtyard]

Diedre: Hey, Vargas!

Vargas (Smiles): Heya, Lil Sis! How's it going?

Diedre: I'm good. What's up with you? Still sore from the Morning Climb?

Vargas: Mainly because you beat me, but I'll bounce back.

Diedre: We'll see. Later, Bro. *Walks off*

Trein (Raises an eyebrow): 'Lil Sis'? I thought you were enamored with her, just as Crewel is.

Vargas: I thought so too, especially after seeing the way she handles Crowley. But the more I started talking to her, the more I started seeing her as a little sister rather than a lover. *Smiles* Plus, she's got a real soft spot from Crewel.

Trein: How do you know?

Vargas: She really likes his eyes.

Crewel, who happened to be passing by, freezes:

Trein, notices him and smiles: Something wrong, Crewel?

Crewel: No. *quickly leaves*

Trein, chuckles:

[cerise1loves2art]

Twist doodles for the month

[mellosdrawings]

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

[22ayla21]

The One Among Them

Within the strict walls of Night Raven College, the faculty and the mysterious merchant Sam team up to offer their only colleague a unique and warm welcome on International Women's Day.

On this day, when spring was just beginning to awaken the world from its winter slumber, an unusual atmosphere reigned within the walls of Night Raven College. Despite the strict structure of the educational institution, there was something special in the air today.

Headmage Crowley, as always, enthusiastically took on the organizational chores. He was sure that such an important day could not pass without a celebration, especially when it came to the only woman on the teaching staff. Of course, he did not miss the opportunity to remind his colleagues of his exceptional leadership talent and outstanding ability to select gifts.

Divus Crewel, dressed in his always elegant attire, critically examined the prepared surprise. He did not tolerate carelessness in style, and therefore insisted that the gift match the sophistication of the moment. In his hands rested a neatly tied bundle - a set of rare silk fabrics that he personally selected, knowing the taste of his colleague.

Mozus Trein, although he did not share the excessive pathos of such holidays, still considered it his duty to show respect. He chose a gift with practical use - a collection of scientific works on rare magical creatures. Of course, he was eager to discuss the contents of the books, but today he restrained himself.

Ashton Vargas, full of energy, suggested adding something more active to the congratulations, perhaps even a sports competition, but his enthusiasm was quickly cut short by his colleagues. However, he did not stand aside and proudly presented a small trophy, engraved with words about strength and endurance, which, in his opinion, were as important for a teacher as for a student.

But there was another person at the college who could not stand aside - Sam, the enigmatic owner of the store. He never missed an opportunity to please customers, and when it came to an occasion like International Women's Day, he took it as a chance to demonstrate his generosity. Smiling mysteriously, he presented a gift wrapped in dark ribbon. Inside was a set of rare magical aromas that promised mental alertness, clarity of thought and, according to rumors, slight protection from intrusive students.

When everything was ready, the teachers, led by a beaming Crowley, went to congratulate their colleague. The headmage personally presented a bouquet of enchanting roses with a slight magical glow, bursting into a long, florid speech, where he managed to mention both the traditions of the school and his incomparable care for the staff.

However, among all these lush congratulations, the main thing was sincere respect. Here, among the old stone walls, where strictness and discipline seemed unbreakable laws, there was room for a warm gesture. The only female teacher in the boys' college accepted gifts and congratulations, knowing that her contribution was appreciated. And even if tomorrow everything returns to normal, this day will remain in memory - as a rare but valuable moment of recognition.

[quartztwst]

HELP ME

[kenchann]

father-daughters bonding 💚📚💗

[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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[kokii-omii]

lets hope he learned his lesson

[oddberryshortcake]

TREIN’S DAUGHTERS

TWST ANASTASIA AND DRIZELLA

[mostroloungeofficial]

High res. Strict suit Mozus Trein groovy

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

Marcus & Jayden: Symphony

[Courtyard]

[Trein, happy his Late Wife's Silver Violin made its way back to Marcus, allowed his son to keep the one memento of his mother. With Jayden's Memory of his Mother's Song, both friends played their music in the courtyard.]

Marcus: *Playing his mother's lullaby on his Silver Violin*

Jayden: *Playing his mother's song on his Flute*

Trein, listening with a teary smile.

Jamil, listening to them play.

[pestorik]

twst cats sketchdump

when im too lazy to draw humans, expect cats

[mellosdrawings]

It's canon. Trust me.