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#ao3 twst
shxuga · 1 year
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I’m back! After a long, long time LMAO
Here’s a drawing and a minicomic inspired by the @dilatorywriting Monster Mayhem Series. I’m just fall in love with her writing, please go ahead and check her wonderful works!
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lexsssu · 4 months
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Rut (Malleus Draconia)
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TAGS: Malleus/Dragoness!reader, breeding, impregnation, heats/ruts, dragon anatomy (double dick), drabble Ao3 ver.
Iɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ғɪɴᴅs ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴏᴡ ᴏғ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴛᴛᴇʀʟʏ ɪʀʀᴇsɪsᴛɪʙʟᴇ.
“ ...knew we were always meant to be. My knot was always meant to plug you up and keep all my seed inside your womb to keep it snug and warm for our brood… ”
The air is thick with the heady scent of sex and sweat mixing together, while the wet slaps of skin against skin, grunts, and whines echo throughout the expansive room. 
Malleus’ bigger body felt so hot against yours as his sweat-soaked skin rubbed against you with each movement he made, especially as he forced both of his cocks inside your pussy. You could feel how they rubbed against your walls due to their ribbed texture, something you’d only found out when the male dragon released them from the confines of his pants.
The way your eyes widened and seemed to glaze over at the sight of the pulsing rods of flesh only made the fae’s nostrils flare as your arousal seemed to coat the space in their potent scent. It almost made Malleus want to preen knowing that you found his form to your liking, but he was already too worked up from his own rut that synced up with your first-ever heat.
And how wonderful was it that the object of his affection would share her first-ever heat with him? If Malleus didn’t already believe that you were meant to be, then this would be the sign that you were the one he’d been waiting all these years for.
Placing you in the proper mating position, your pretty pussy presented to him all slicked up after thoroughly preparing you first with his mouth and fingers, cute little hole twitching to have his cocks and knot fucked inside, the wizard dives in to claim his prize.
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tiredjuniper · 1 year
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*reading a fic for x reader with no warning of physical descriptions*
“slim figure” “turned red” “[insert some texture/color/length] hair” “pale as snow”
y’all it’s not x reader if you have descriptors that exclude people, especially when it’s cutting marginalized groups from enjoying it.
if it’s an oc with no name say that.
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How You Turn My World; Chapter 4
You finally find your way into the labyrinth, coming across some new and old faces; both friendly and malicious.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, reader is getting tired of being stuck here and smelling like a bog
Content Warnings; Swearing, some talk of death, reader passes out
Word Count; 2.2 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
As per usual, don't put my work into AI.
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You were finally making some decent progress, what, with not being stuck in some bog and knowing somewhat of where you were going. A vast improvement really! Well, it would be, but unfortunately, you still reeked of rotten eggs and skunk — apparently the bog stench only got worse the longer it stayed on.
“Why did it have to dump me into the swamp,” you huffed, rounding yet another corner. “Like, it could have dumped me beside the water, but, no, no, let’s dump the magicless human right into the putrid bog water! A good guffaw, don’t you think? Ha ha ha HA!”
At least your au de Bog of Eternal Stench kept any would-be assailants away since you hadn’t run into anything (besides a rose bush, ouch) since you started making your way through the labyrinth. So maybe it wasn’t all that bad… damn, maybe your sense of smell was just used to it… hey, if stink helps you not die, then you would gladly stay stinky! Well, bitterly stay stinky is more like it.
“Assholes,” you muttered, rounding another corner. 
But it wasn’t a corner; it was a crossroad. Three paths merged off of the one you were on.
… aren’t labyrinths just one long line? THIS IS A FUCKING MAZE?! You groaned, looking at your possible options which all looked exactly the same.
Decisions, decisions, decisions. Of course nothing is easy here, no no no! Gotta make things difficult now.
The hedge behind you rustled, and you whipped around, getting into a stance where you could either land a pretty good sucker punch to the hedge-stalker or make a mad dash away. But out of the hedge crawled out a small, fuzzy, caterpillar. And back at home you would have thought it was cute, but you learned your lesson from the doors; don’t trust it, or anyone for that matter.
You looked down at the caterpillar, and the caterpillar looked up at you, blinking slowly. 
What are the chances… 
“Do you know a way out,” you asked the caterpillar, crouching down so that you didn’t tower over it.
The caterpillar blinked at you again (apparently caterpillars in the Underground have eyelids, which isn’t the weirdest thing considering everything). “No,” it chirped and continued crawling on its merry way, wherever that may be. “But you’ll find the way.” And it disappeared into the growth of the maze, humming a little tune to itself.
You sighed, and pushed yourself back up, straightening out your shoulders and looking up to the sky. “I’ll find a way,” you breathed, looking up at the cloudless sky which was starting to turn a brilliant amber with the setting sun. “I might want to find a way is more like it.”
You looked back down to the ground, looking at the three paths in front of you. They all look the same, save for the ground making up paths themselves, with the middle and right paths looking well worn with travel. And while they may be well worn, there was a voice at the back of your head that was whispering caution. The left-most path was not as well travelled, with dead vines covering parts of it.
“Hopefully you’re right, little buddy since I could use all the luck I can get.” And you made your way down the path, hoping that it was the correct one and didn’t lead you to your death or some other unpleasant thing.
Lilia was at the entrance of the labyrinth, in front of the two doors.
“Have you seen a human, about this tall, a bit of a temper, and smelling foul,” he asked the doors.
The doors looked at each other before looking at Lilia. “And what’s it to you,” they said in unison.
Lilia smiled, but it was one of mild annoyance, not joy or amusement. “Royal orders I fear. You wouldn’t want the mistress finding out about you both tampering with a royal matter, would you?” The smile turned cat-like since Lilia had backed them into a corner.
The doors paled, with the blue door speaking up. “No no, sir! We would never dream of such a thing!!! Yes, there was a human, a wretched one at that, horribly rude!”
Lilia hummed, cocking a brow at the door. “I do think wretched is a bit of an overstatement now,” he whispered to himself. “Well, tell me where about they are then. The sooner I can collect them, the better for you lot.”
The red door sighed, “Near the heart of it, they took the left path.”
Left path? Why the left path leads to… Shit. Lilia mentally groaned, knowing that regardless of the path you took, you would end up having to deal with them eventually. “Your cooperation has been noted,” is what he said though, giving the doors both a nod before turning into a bat and flying over the labyrinth, trying to find you before you ran into whoever them was.
“Please be clever enough not to die,” he whispered to no one, hoping that he didn’t have to deliver your body to the Queen.
The left path brought you to what looked like a forest; with old-growth trees, ferns and moss covering the ground, and a list mist hanging in the air. It was peaceful and beautiful, with the setting sun illuminating the mist without burning it away.
But that would not last, night was fast approaching and you had nothing to protect you this time; no rowan tree to haul your ass up, and no sort of weapon to protect yourself besides the oh-so-lovely smell of the bog to deter something from eating you. You were pretty sure it would also keep away anything that wanted to otherwise snatch you up.
“AH!” Something jumped out from a tree, and you couldn’t fully register what it was since you were also screeching, much like the creature was at you; you with fright, the creature with amusement and joy.
Two other creatures jumped out from behind the trees and startled cackling, jumping, and clapping. Together, they surrounded you, with no way to really escape them without fighting through.
… you really should have read about fae species, since you didn’t know what they exactly were, or how dangerous they were either. 
One pulled you near a pit and lit a fire, cackling in glee and dancing, trying to get you to join them. “Ah come on, human, have some fun! DANCE BABEY!!!!”
But you stayed still as more creatures came out of the shadows, dancing around the fire, giggling, cackling, and pulling a bit at your clothes to prompt you to join them. You didn’t know, cementing your feet down, your eyes watching their movements with caution.
‘Should you dance with the fae, you shall not stop dancing until you exhaust yourself. And once you wake up, you will continue dancing. This cycle will repeat itself until you dance to death.’ 
At least that was what the book said, and so you stayed still, regardless of how much the creatures pulled at you. While it looked like a grand old time, you remained where you were.
“I don’t have time for dancing,” you answered coldly, flinching from pinching fingers. You were also a bit shocked that Eau de Bog of Eternal Stench wasn’t keeping them away. Either, they couldn’t smell, or, they didn’t care that you smelled downright awful. “So this ‘baby’ won’t dance.”
And should I be offended by you calling me ‘baby’ or am I reading too much into it?
The main creature just shrugged and spun its dancing partner around. “Your loss human! More fun for us then! YIPPEE!!!” And it threw something in the fire to where you could feel the heat on your face.
What now? You were just standing there awkwardly as the creatures danced about, singing something that you couldn’t really make out. All you knew was that the heat, noise, and the dizzying dance of them was making your head pound, and throat scream in thirst. You hadn’t drank anything for over a day(?) — no, bog water did not count — and the heat from the fire made the thirst only worse. Shit.
“Ah, you don’t look too… hot there human,” one of the creatures snickered at its own joke at your expense. “Maybe if you dance with us, loosen up and have a bit of fun, then you can have a drink? Hmm? Dancing won’t kill you!” But its failed attempts at covering up its own malicious giggles were more than enough to stand your ground… which was coming at you quite fast since you practically collapsed.
Was it the thirst? The pounding migraine that wanted nothing more than to crawl into some dark hole and hide? Or your exhaustion from making that tiring trek, crawling yourself out of the bog and making the trek again, or the hours you had spent wandering around the maze with no real idea of where you were going? All you really knew was that you were now on the ground with the creatures poking at you to see if you were still alive.
“Aw, man! Are they already dead? That’s no fun!” One of the creatures pouted, raising up your arm, and you let it plop back to the ground. “Come on human! Get up! You’re not a party pooper are you?”
Scre you buddy! Can’t you read the situation?!
You were trying your best to stay quiet, which wasn’t all that hard, since all of your energy was gone. 
“They best not be,” a familiar voice called out.
From your position, you couldn’t see who it was, but you could make out the creatures jumping away from you like you were the hot fire instead of the fire pit. But someone else was approaching until you could make out a pair of shoes in front of your face.
They crouched down beside you, placing their fingers gently at the base of your throat; taking your pulse. “Hmph, playing dead, are we, Beastie?”
That irritating chuckle. The annoying nickname. Those mischievous magenta eyes that now looked at you with curiosity and amusement.
It was him — Mr. Sparkles.
And he had just blown your act of playing possum (well, not really, since you had actually collapsed).
But you didn’t say anything, instead favouring to give him a dirty look. Yet he just shook his head in jest, and proceeded to pick you up and wrap you around his shoulders and neck like some sort of bizarre ermine pelt; better than being carried like a sack of potatoes or the bridal carry you supposed.
“Her majesty sends her regards for not turning or killing her guest,” Lilia offered the creatures. It would be such a waste and pity to see such an entertaining Beastie leave us too soon now. “But do know she won’t take to their condition lightly.”
My condition? I’m not some Victorian child with some unknown illness wreaking havoc on their body you know?! But all that you did was groan and cough. You couldn’t even cough in Mr. Sparkles’ (Lilia’s) face, since you had a lovely view of the moss-covered ground and the fae’s shoes.
He patted the back of your calves, and you would have kicked him if you had more energy, but you didn’t. “Now, we really should be off, since Beastie has… an hour to get out of this maze before they turn into some sort of worm, or a hedge; never know what this old labyrinth will decide on really.” Lilia chuckled at the thought (was it merriment, or was he happy that you weren’t joining the caterpillar you met earlier?).
“No,” you wheezed. “WoRm!”
“See! They said it themself! No worm! How lovely that we are on a similar wavelength, Beastie! Marvellous even!” Lilia exclaimed, and the both of you started levitating off of the ground. “Now, do enjoy your party, Fireys!”
The creatures (Fireys apparently) groaned but got back to their party, dancing around the fire like they didn’t just try to lure you to your death mere minutes before.
“Tsk tsk, Beastie,” Lilia’s tutting brought your attention back to him and you grumbled. “You owe me two favours now, you know. Lucky that I found you… although that part wasn’t hard. I thought you learned your lesson the first time you decided to take a dip into the Bog of Eternal Stench?”
You lightly kicked him, letting your irritation be known, but Lilia just hummed. “Now now, no need to be like that! Do you want to smell like a bog when you meet the mistress? She wouldn’t take kindly to your… unique aroma.”
You hissed out a breath since he decided to pinch at your ear rather harshly — prompting for you to answer. “No,” you whispered hoarsely.
“Also, do read up on that book, since you will want to know about the government and fae species etiquette!”
From a smelly bog and fumbling around a maze for hours on end, to finding yourself being taken to fae high society… was it too late to become some worm in the maze? I think being a worm actually has a better chance of me living.
But sadly, you were saved from an eternity of being a worm. Hopefully, Mr. Sparkles (Lilia) would cover for your blunders a little for when you found yourself in front of ‘the mistress’.
...
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To be continued!
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Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @cheezy-moon @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii
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hoegender · 8 months
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hey dude do you want to try to outfreak each other dude? then do you want to kiss after that dude? flirt with each other like freaks dude?
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twst-terror · 8 months
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Thinking about Azul. Someone who grew up hated and ostracized for the way he looked, who honed his already razor-sharp intelligence and wit into a weapon in order to keep himself safe and climb to the top. His confidence in his looks may be lacking, but there was an unshakable faith in his contracts. That was why he was so stunned when you bested him, completed your end of a deal that he was sure would’ve been impossible. When you sat there, an accomplished fire in your eyes as you stared him down, Azul could feel something exciting and unfamiliar prickle under his skin. No one had managed to escape the claws of his contracts before, and it had Azul dangerously intrigued.
So he started watching you, approaching you, trying to get a feel for your mind. That’s all it was… at least at first. Throughout observing you, however, he began to notice things other than your mind. The way you laughed, the sway of your hips as you walked, your sense of style. The way he found you so perfect even outside of that brilliant mind of yours. His approaches to you changed slightly, falling back on some merfolk courting methods. If you accepted, even though you didn’t know the context, he’d be overjoyed that it was working so well. If you rebuked him, well, male octopuses usually deal with refusal from potential mates, as it is a game of cat and mouse, one that Azul is certain he’ll win.
You’d have to deal with the twins too, though in a different way. They obviously notice Azul’s obsession crush on you, and they tease him relentlessly, though they spend time around you trying to figure out what makes you so interesting to Azul. God forbid you catch their attention as well, you’d never get any rest again.
Azul would be the type to deny the truth to himself if you got involved with someone else. He would lock them under a contract, of course, and maybe let Floyd work out his frustrations on them for extra measure, but he would deny that you ever actually cared for them. In his eyes, someone as cunning as you would know better than to pick someone like them when he was right there. He truly believes you two are meant to be, that he could be all you need. As such, there is a bit of blackmail running to keep most others away from you.
Azul would be an attentive partner, his trauma and self-esteem issues causing him to lavish you with gifts and love out of fear of not being enough. You’d probably find it cute that he keeps note of the little things that you like. That is until you find out about the file he’s keeping on you, things you never even thought to tell him written in excellent detail, creepy little notes written in the margins. Or the cameras he commissioned under the table to hide around your home so he can watch you whenever.
If you ever found out the twisted way he stalked and watched over you, your chances of getting out of it are rather slim. Azul, no matter the gentlemanly persona he puts on, is still a desperate and possessive creature under it all. He wouldn’t be afraid of using his connections to ensure you’re trapped by his side. He would mull over making a love potion but decides that he love that bright look in your eyes much more than the dull way they would glaze over under its influence, even if your eyes are filled with hate for now. He’s certain you’ll come around one day and see that he’s right. He’s desperate for it, needs to see you soft with love for him as he holds you in his arms.
Please my siren, won’t you let me love you?
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darkspellmaster · 7 months
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More lovely art from the discord of A Phantomhive at Night Raven College
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Lilia as done by @mayaibarra Just love his face And Black Butler tsum-tsums as made by @befruitycommitfelonys
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Hope you all like. ^_^ I know I do!
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More twst x ao3 :)
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alieinthemorning · 5 months
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Sorry if this goes against the rules (dark nature but idk if this counts) but like, can u write about Leona feeling especially depressed and not being able to even get out of bed, then the reader-insert comes to wake him up (on behalf of Ruggie) and then realised and comforts him? Like angst to comfort! But no rush and no worries if this request is declined! I'll just ask something else then!
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Lean on Me [Leona Kingscholar]
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Content: Depressed Leona Kingscholar, Blood and Injury, Literal Sleeping Together, Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Strong Language
Pronouns: None
Continuation of: For Thee, Not for Me [Leona Kingscholar || Malleus Draconia]
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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He knew he should have just stayed in bed. Shouldered this shit on Ruggie (he was competent enough), and just not have been fucking bothered.
But he did, and it came with consequences (other than him leaving his bed).
He wasn't paying attention, too stuck in his own head to realize that one of the mutts had fucked up, and the damn disc was headed straight for his noggin.
Shit was flying fast enough that it knocked him clear on his ass. It hurt like hell, the pain in the side of his head and his back, but shit—he'd rather be on the fucking ground than possibly bleeding to death than standing and acting like he wasn't on the fucking cliff's edge.
But then there you were (of course you were), kneeling beside him as you assessed the damages. You gently brushed the sticky brown locks away from the wound, wincing at what you saw. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as you silent contemplated something.
He opened his mouth, ready to stop you from doing something stupid (that stupid thing being saving his life).
But it was too late.
“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”
And then he was sitting up with just left with a dull headache,
and your unconscious body that fell into his lap.
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You'd been asleep for a week now. Vita told him that it was a combination of a White Cold and Rapid Blot Accumulation. She told him that it wasn't his fault, that you were well aware of the consequences of overusing your Signature Spell.
Epel did bother hiding his glare. He was pissed, and rightfully so. He may have looked up to him, but he considered you as family. And here he was sitting at your bedside, as if he had the fucking right.
But regardless of Epel's silent furry, he remained there.
But he knew that wasn't it.
"You fucked up." Ruggie had told him one day as he had delivered his lunch. He didn't tell him to do, but his reasoning had to do with you.
"If you don't feed you, and I don't feed you, guess who's gonna be pissed."
When he asked Ruggie to watch you, he never expected for him to actually befriend you. He even stopped taking the money he had been paying him, calling it dirty money. He shrugged it off, less money out of his pocket.
"You better start learning how to grovel, Prince." Title, no name. "Or else someone else will force you on your knees.
If he had been paying attention to his surroundings, you wouldn't have been laying here. If he had been paying attention to you, he would have realized that you weren't fit to even be at practice that day (because he knows that you'd fight him tooth and nail to heal whoever was hurt).
Zigvolt had given him a good right hook when he appeared in the infirmary. Silver was there as well, he could have stopped him, but he didn't (and he didn't blame him).
"You'd best pray to any and all gods that will listen, Kingscholar." His eyes flashed with something dangerous—a promise. "May my lord forgive me for what I will do to you."
Hell, he should have just stayed in bed and wallowed like a fucking coward.
Draconia appeared late at night before Vita officially kicked him out. He simply looked over your sleeping form with a pitiful look on his face.
That didn't wash away when his eerie Fae gaze found his own muted chartreuse one.
But he didn't, and now you were the one paying the price.
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"Oi, Vita." A chair scraping against tile.
Two muffled voices, a door softly shutting, and a sigh.
You give yourself a few more minutes to accumulate to your current setting before slowly opening your eyes.
"Was that Leona, Vita?"
The one frowned as she looked at you over her heart-shaped glasses. "That's really the first thing you ask me?"
You give a dismissive hum, "...I suppose so."
"You are such a—yes, that was him."
"Okay." And then you closed your eyes again.
Close to a week later is when you were discharged, and allowed to return to classes. And that's exactly what you didn't do. Instead, you went on the prowl for a hiding lion. However, you were surprised to find that he wasn't at any of his usual spots, but instead decaying away in his room.  
The blinds were fully drawn, shielding him from the sunlight that attempt to penetrate. His room was more a mess than usual, as if he had torn through it himself in a fit of rage, before fizzling out and finding his final resting place.
You pursed your lips, that's probably exactly what he did. Oh well, that didn't really matter, so instead of worrying about that, you set about to clean the room.  You heard him shuffle on the bed a bit, but disregarded him until you were finished.
And when you were, you faced him. "..."
"..."
If he wasn't ready to talk, then that was fine. You eyed his body for any external injuries. There didn't seem like there were any, so you turned heel, heading for his en suite bathroom.
"Oi..." It was soft and weak, like he wasn't really addressing you, but just saying it in general confusion. You ignored him in favor of fulling his tub with water and oils (just the way he liked it).
When you were done, you simply gestured to the bath, not waiting to hear any sort of answer because you were already pulling the sheets off the bed before he could protest. So he followed your silent directions and entered the bathroom (leaving the door unlocked).
You made quick work of his bed, then got himself a fresh set of clothes as well as yourself (you knew how he was about outside clothes).
You knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"
"...yeah."
He was fully submerged, a layer of bubbles covering what needed to be covered.
"Can I wash your hair?"
Despite his lips twisting into a frown, he nodded. You knew why. Of course you did. He felt guilty for what happened to you. And yes, maybe, he did have some responsibility for what happened—you also shared in that. You knew that you were getting close to blot, you also knew good and well that taking on Leona's injury would push you over the edge (not to the point of blotting, but damn near close).
But you still took it on, and you'd do it again.
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Then hours later, after slipping in and out of dreams, you heard him whisper against your chest.
"Thank you."
"Of course, you can always lean on me, you know." You smiled, setting a kiss on the crown of his head.
"Since I am your healer, after all."
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I ended combining these two because I wanted to use this title for the depression piece, but couldn't because I didn't know what else to name the For Thee, Not for Me Continuation. 
SO! I after having a "WAIT FUCK I CAN WORK WITH THIS!" moment, I decided to combine them!
Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist
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and this is why you don´t befriend lonely Dragons
Magic shenanigans and weird Fae things and suddenly the Magicless prefect of Ramshackle is the parent to a (maybe) Half Human Half Dragon Fae
this got 1157 words
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what do you think is the worst thing that could ever happen when you have a sleepover with one of your buddies? they puke in your bed? they literally kick you out of your bed? the worst of all they steal your blankets? well how about this a surprise parenthood where your Dragon Fae friend, who might have some feelings that go way past just friendly for you, without even knowing it himself magicked an egg into existence where a Dragon Fae will hatch from
yeah this will be one awkward wake up call especially when it was actually Grim who woke you both up
“YUUU! why are you and Hornton sleeping with food!? come on throw it in the pan we can eat from this for months!” the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Grim standing on your chest, which is odd because usually you wake up to him constantly kicking you in the face because he´s dreaming of food... wait did he just say both of you are sleeping with food?
“Grim?” you rubbed your eyes “what the fuck are you talking about? I made sure there weren´t any chips bag on my bed, do you remember last time Ace and Deuce were staying here and we forgot one?” Grim just grinned “yeah you had some serious cleaning to do” he smiled and opened his arms “didn´t you notice the giant egg Hornton is cradling? we can eat for who knows how long from it!” you still weren´t awake enough to completely understand what Grim was saying “Grim why would Malleus hold an egg? We don-” when you were at least awake enough to fully comprehend what is around you, you nearly jumped out of the bed not only is Malleus still disregarding any personal space you could ever have he was holding a black egg with protrusions that resemble scales and a pattern at the top that almost looks like it could be a bow, it actually looks a lot like the one you use for your school uniform, but now is not them time to admire pretty and suspiciously familiar patterns on an egg! you carefully moved Grim of off your chest and shook Malleus awake
“Malleus! hey Malleus!! wake up we have a serious panic moment on our hands!!!” but he didn´t budge even a little bit, he is once again so deep in dream land that he doesn´t even know what is happening around him, even Grim is trying to wake him up but for completely different reasons “Hornton! wake up I´m hungry! let go of that egg, me getting breakfast is a lot more important than your dreams!” of course Grim is only thinking about food but if neither of you can wake him than you have to use your ultimate weapon, the only sentence that could even make him come back from the dead “Malleus wake up Ramshackle is burning and the Gargoyles are falling!” this made him jump up as if he just got hit by lightning
“not the Gargoyles, take Grim but not them!” this caused Grim to cross his little arms “wow Hornton glad to see were I stand” if this wasn´t a highly serious moment you would have gladly died from laughter but no time for fun only for him hopefully telling you what you think is happening is wrong
“Malleus how are the Dragon Fae reproducing and can it just happen completely asexually” Malleus blinked, it seems like he will also need some time to fully comprehend how serious this situation is and what just happened while both of them were sleeping “I think so? I mean on very rare occasion a Dragon Fae can be born if only one parent has strong feelings for the other, but why are you asking this now?” you don´t know how he doesn´t notice that he has been cradling an egg the entire time but there seems to be still some wonders left in Twisted Wonderland though some are betters than others, mainly those that don´t involve random parenthood because one of your friends has a crush on you
“Malleus… would you do me a favor and look down” he was confused but did what you told him and… “why do you want me t- where did this come from?” he was… eerily calm actually, you expected some more surprise and maybe even some fire but not just him being as cool as cool can be and even having the gal to ask you that, as if you aren´t as if not more confused than him
“you tell me because there is only one of use who could do this” it seemed he had to think about it for a moment “it seems we are now parents Yuu” yeah actually he might be more freaked out than you thought because he´s been far to calm this entire time, maybe you should get Lilia involved in this “alright Malleus do me a favor and one take a deep breath” you saw him do this one immediately “and two keep Grim away form the maybe Dragon egg because he already said he wants to eat it” and now he was glaring at the poor monster, you almost felt bad about leaving Grim alone with Malleus but if he needs help he can always call the for the Ghosts or see if he can out run Malleus
you didn´t ponder on it longer than you had to and hurried to the downstairs phone and quickly punched in one of your emergency contacts, which included Lilia and it didn´t took long before he picked up
“Lilia Vanrouge speaking if you are here to accuse me of war crimes it´s not Lilia Vanrouge speaking”
“very funny Lilia quick question is Malleus an old enough Dragon to be able to reproduce?” you couldn´t hear anything on the other side, even Lilia stopped breathing but then he got loud, really loud but at least he dropped the speaker but at least you could hear some of what he was screaming about and he sounded giddy at least “SILVER! SEBEK! I`M GOING OUT AND DON`T WAIT FOR ME SOMETHING REALLY IMPORTANT HAPPENED!!!” yeah really giddy but you know both of you will be in for one Hell of a scolding when Lilia get´s over here, so maybe you should make sure Malleus didn´t kill Grim for getting to close to his (both of yours?) egg
as it turns out you didn´t need to because, yes he does want to murder Grim for it and Grim just jumped directly in your face
“YUU! wants to kill me!”
“he still wants to eat our child!”
“not true!”
“you said it multiple times”
well… at least nobody can say you don´t have experience with looking after literal infants, still calmer now than it will be when Lilia get´s a hold of both of you
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Malleus during the entirety of the fic on the inside: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
Malleus during the entirety of the fic on the outside: oh bother...
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I like the fact that this is insinuating that "Silver" is short for "Silverhair", and you know what? I dig that headcanon; I'm joining the "Silverhair Vanrouge" bandwagon
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suntails · 10 months
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silruggie seepy nation
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intern-seraph · 10 months
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slams some chp 7 liliyuu on the table
cws: obvs some chp 7 pt 4 spoilers, suggestive, making out, biting, mild blood, i want him to [censored]
Despite his threat, he settles on the small of your back, calves pressed against your hips. He uses his grip on your hair to turn your head just enough for him to mash his lips against yours. You moan, soft and needy, and eagerly return his kiss. It’s gentler than you anticipated. He works your mouth open with slow, leisurely strokes of his tongue. Gladly, you open for him, and he takes all that you give. His fangs sink into your bottom lip as he pulls away so you can breathe, pricking just enough to draw beads of blood. You stare up at Lilia, eyes wide and pupils blown, while he looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. “I don’t understand it,” he mutters. “Why am I so drawn to a magicless human..?”
You choose not to say anything, leaning into his grip while he sorts out his emotions. If sucking face is what wakes up Lilia from his dream, you’ll never let him hear the end of it. After another moment, he shakes his head. Lashes lowering, he scrutinizes you with a sultry sneer.
“What are you looking at?”
“You.”
He snorts and loosens his grip. You stay in place, even though the position makes your neck ache. “Oh?”
“You’re beautiful. Has anyone told you that?”
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serenescribe · 5 months
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Bit of an odd request but I was listening to a bit of music and I was hit by an idea-
Idk if you know the tale of the Snow Queen, but essentially snow queens powerful ice mirror shatters, all but two pieces are recovered. One shard lands in a boys eye making him turn icey and Queen snatched him up.
However consider- Snow King Silver dragging a “mortal” who has a piece of something that was his. Unaware said “mortal” is actually a fae whose intrigued by this King’s combination of harshness yet tenderness.
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the snow prince Twisted Wonderland | 3.9k Summary: A mysterious spell afflicts one Lilia Vanrouge, encasing his heart in frigid cold. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51960883
FREED FROM UNI, I AM! I actually had this written for a while, but put off posting it to save it for a more appropiate season. I really love Snow Queen retellings and AUs, so this was a LOT of fun to write! Thank you, Olive! :D
(An aside: There are extremely minor spoilers for TWST CH7 in here; they're all under the cut and mentioned in passing. If you're trying to avoid every little detail of CH7, I'd suggest passing up on this!)
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In the heat of a sweltering summer that sweeps Briar Valley like a storm, Lilia feels a prick of something sharp enter his eyes.
It happens so fast, so swiftly, that had Lilia not been one of the fair folk, he likely would not have noticed it at all. If he were a human, for example, with their sluggish reflexes and oblivious tendencies, lacking a natural affinity for magic in comparison to the fae, Lilia would have chalked up the prick in his eye to a stray lash falling in, rubbing around until he feels as though he’s flicked it out before moving on with his day.
But Lilia is not human. He is fae.
He knows, at once, despite trying and failing to dig out whatever it is that has entered his eye, that it is not a stray lash or a speck of dust. There is a strange magic emanating off of the tiny sharp splinter, an aura he picks up on in an instant. It’s peculiar, the way it makes him shudder as he brushes against it, the sensation likened to the cold of a dead winter. It is unlike anything he has ever felt before.
But gradually, Lilia has to put a pause on his efforts. He is out on a journey to meet with humans for talks of peace, for their centuries-long wars are slowly crawling to an end. His soldiers look at him in concern, clicking their tongues as they ask him, “General, are you alright? Do we need to stop for a while?”
“I am fine,” Lilia says, waving his hand in dismissal. “I simply got something in my eye, is all.”
It is not wrong to say that, for it is not a lie at all. But Lilia knows as well as anyone else that the strange prick of magic infesting his eye warrants further inspection.
Later, he tells himself, as they continue on with their journey on horseback, for the stalemate in their war has allowed for easier travel through ways of steed.
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Time ticks by, the lazy heat of summer dipping into the beginnings of a chilly autumn. But despite the changing seasons, the months that have passed since that fateful summer day, Lilia comes no closer to discovering what it is that ails him so deeply.
He is not oblivious to the changes occurring to him; quite the opposite, in fact. Lilia has carried about him a strange self-awareness about his shifting attitude, only realising the differences in how he’s been acting when he reflects on the changes in hindsight. He’s never exactly been the pinnacle of warmth, and especially not after his beloved friends died, but he’s always held a fondness in his heart for the few he opens up to — namely his second in command, Baul Zigvolt, and the young heir to the throne and son of his deceased friend, Malleus Draconia.
But now?
Lilia stifles a sigh as he reminisces, trudging through the gardens of the castle. The leaves are shifting to warm hues, leaves fluttering in shades of vermillion red and golden yellow, and the fallen leaves give a satisfying crunch when his boots stomp into them.
He exhales, twisting his lips as he raises his head up to the world around him. It looks as it always has, Lilia knows that well. And yet… something about it has felt different since that day.
Everything has begun to feel… boring. Banal and bland at best, wickedly ugly at worst. The crunch of the leaves irritates his ears, the drought of the autumn air makes his nose feel too sore. He turns his nose up at the food the castle staff serve, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell of a dish he used to love, and he turns down whoever offers him a mug of beer, the foam that guzzles over the rim leaving his hands sticky and gross.
Lilia knows he’s changing. It’s not just his emotions, but also in the way he sees the world — everything is so intimately different in the worst way, and every waking hour he spends feels like a chore, an obligation he drags himself through. Where he used to spend time with Baul and his fellow men, or with Malleus most of all, being the one to raise him since he hatched, he now spends it all… alone.
But knowing something logically is different from knowing it emotionally. There are only so many apologies he can force out with his insincere tongue, schooling his expression into a facsimile of sincere regret. At the end of the day — of each day — Lilia truly feels nothing at all except the vacant void of a howling gelidity, frostbite nipping through his very veins.
At the very least, his men have respected this change, regardless of how perplexed they seem to be. Baul had pulled him aside once or twice to ask if he was feeling fine, but had he not been so preoccupied with his daughter’s sudden interest in the Valley’s newest dentist, a peculiar human who’d chosen to move here, of all places, he would have surely pressed the matter further.
On the other hand…
“Lilia!”
He sucks in a breath at the sound of that familiar voice. Once, it had lightened his heart to be greeted to such a cry upon returning to the castle from one of his many campaigns. But now?
“Hello, Malleus,” Lilia greets, making a deliberate effort to soften his voice as he turns to greet the young prince. Malleus has grown a great deal since he first hatched, now towering slightly above Lilia. Still, the boy has an inclination for continuing to call out to him childishly — something that had endeared Lilia in times past, but now only serves to irritate him by no fault of Malleus at all. “Is there something you require of me?”
“Not require, per se,” Malleus answers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He toys with the chain of his cloak with one hand. “I was merely hoping that you could spare the time to join me today for some tea. It has been quite a while, after all. I understand you’ve been busy as of late, but you do not appear to have anything on today, so I thought—”
“You’re rambling again.” Abruptly, Malleus’ mouth snaps shut. Lilia winces internally at his misstep; why had he interrupted the prince like that, in so cold a tone? He sighs. “Apologies. I have been under… a great deal of stress recently.”
“It is no matter, Lilia.”
Well that’s good, at least, Lilia thinks. Averting his gaze, he says, “Unfortunately, I do not believe I can join you today.”
A pause.
“Truly?” He hears it, the surprise in Malleus’ voice, mixing in with a forlorn misery. “I was certain that you had nothing to do today, given your schedule…”
“I—” Pressing his lips together, Lilia thinks before he says, rather stiffly, “It is true that I may not have anything on. But I would like some time to myself if you would be so kind, my prince.”
Ah, another slip up of his. To refer to Malleus by his title rather than his name… the gap between them only widens, and the only reason why Lilia worries about it is because he fears that he may go too far, say the wrong thing when it’s far too late to take anything back. But what’s done is done; Lilia raises his head in time to see Malleus recoil, hurt glimmering in those chartreuse eyes of his.
If Lilia stays longer… will he continue to mess up so miserably?
Before Malleus can speak, Lilia cuts in. “If there is nothing else that requires my attention,” he says, “I would like to return to my walk. Good day, Malleus. Give my regards to the queen.”
And, abruptly, he turns on his heels and leaves.
Oh, Lilia knows that Malleus is displeased. He knows it because, within mere moments, there is a gentle flutter of snow wafting down from the skies. He raises his head, blinking up at the fluttering snowflakes — so delicate and fragile, a byproduct of the prince’s tumultuous emotions, his magic far too powerful for him to properly handle when his emotions explode past his limits.
And yet, when he sets his eyes upon the swirling snow, Lilia feels…
Something.
He raises a hand, watching a snowflake land on his finger — so tiny, so delicate, an eight-pointed speck weaved into such an elegant pattern. It melts almost instantly against the warm flush of his skin — and yet, Lilia is transfixed, mouth parting slightly as he steps back, watching as the snow begins to flurry down faster and faster, cascading through the skies. How long has it been since he’d felt anything other than such apathy, such revulsion, such irritation and disgust? Now, Lilia only feels a sense of childlike wonder.
When was the last time he stopped to stare at the snow as it fell? He cannot remember. Has he ever stopped to observe it like this? Or had war stripped away such inconsequential pastimes from his life?
Lilia does not know how long he wanders around, watching the snowflakes dance until he goes numb, so numb with the cold. He only knows that his fingers are frozen and his lips are blue when he finally returns to the castle in a daze, barely cognisant of the way his entire body is battered, pushed past the natural limitations of his faerie strength.
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Winter crashes into Briar Valley like an enemy ambush, a sudden attack spurned from the shadows of nothingness. It is the worst winter they have had in an eternity, everyone says, peering outside the frost-tinted windows as they bask within the toasty walls of the castle grounds; the fire-spells keep everyone warm for as long as they stay inside.
With the thick layers of snow barring any method of safe travel, the ongoing talks of their peace treaties with the humans have been temporarily suspended — more for the children of men’s sakes than that of the fae. If she so willed it, Queen Maleficia could wash away the snow with a flick of her wrist, but such matters, in her opinion, are trivial; nature is not something to be fixed at an instant, so why should she expend her energy for such things?
So during those days, cooped up within the castle walls with little to do, Lilia winds up lounging in the cushioned nook of a window, a little alcove tucked away in a winding tower towards the murky corners of the castle. Few fae ever roam here, save for a scant few servants pattering about cleaning the dusty hallways, and Lilia spends many languid hours with his head pressed against the cool glass, so intensely transfixed on the dancing snowflakes outside.
They are beautiful. Perhaps they are the last bits of perfection he shall ever witness in his life.
He has found no information about the shard that pricked his eye, nor has he found any sort of cure. Lilia has spent many a month searching, sifting through the treasure trove of books in the castle’s library to no avail. He had, at one point, considered going to the queen and telling her of his predicament — “In the month of summer, I believe a magical spell of some kind has afflicted my eye.” — but his own apathy stops him every time; there is simply no point in dragging others into this matter, not because Lilia does not wish to trouble them, but because, try as he might, the larger part of him just doesn’t care.
So, with his head pressed against the cold glass, Lilia closes his eyes and sighs.
The winter solstice is approaching, the longest night of the year. As nocturnal fae, creatures of the night, it is a joyous cause for celebration for their kind. Despite the blizzard that rages across the Valley night and day, many servants, guardsmen, people of their kingdom have been looking forward to the events; the castle town shall be open to all, shielded from the elements. All fae, young and old, can look forward to a night of dancing and festivities, dining on the finest food at the banquets, and celebrating the longevity of the night.
In years past, Lilia would have looked forward to it. But now, like everything else in his life, he feels nothing at all.
“Lilia? Are you here?”
He stifles a groan at the sound of Malleus’ voice. Again and again, the boy continues to scour for him, to seek him out and spend time with him. Lilia tries to indulge him, he really does! But each occasion spent together, needing to force himself to fake sincerity the whole way through — “Oh yes, Malleus, I would like to try the new blend of tea! Thank you kindly for the offer. How is your grandmother doing? I heard she has spent some time with you as of late—”
He can’t stand it. He can’t. It gets harder and harder with each passing day, the chill that permeates his skin sinking deeper and deeper, turning his heart into one carved of ice. His eye prickles with pain whenever he grits his teeth in a false smile; across the table from him, the young prince looks detestable, a selfish beast with far too much time, uncaring of what his servants are subjected to in their indulgence of him.
So he avoids him. As soon as Lilia hears him, he flicks his wrist, a swell of magic surrounding him. Bat-formed, Lilia takes to the rafters, huddling away in the corners of the ceiling as he listens to Malleus come and go. It is only when he hears that familiar voice fading away that he dares to leave, flapping his little wings as he makes a break for another isolated corner of the labyrinthian castle.
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The day of the winter solstice arrives, and with it comes the worst blizzard the valley has ever seen.
Cold winds lash against the fortifications of the castle, howling and rattling. Snow crashes from the sky, piling higher and higher upon the dead ground. And yet the castle is alight with the buzz of festivities — the many servants bustle about, wrapping up the last of their preparations, ensuring the banquet is ready with food for all, that the decor floats about in place, that the spells wrapping the castle and its town in a bubble of warmth remain solidly intact.
Throughout the day, Lilia sticks to the shadows, hovering out of sight. Today he feels… he doesn’t know how to describe it. Cold and dead as usual, his heart no longer the warm, affectionate thing it was before — but beneath the thick layers of apathy, there is something nestled beneath: the barest twitch of a muscle, a flutter of something. Lilia finds himself distracted with it the entire day as he meanders about, waiting for the clock to tick to a point when the festivities can start.
And when they do begin, the many residents of the valley teleporting into the castle en masse… Oh, how does Lilia even begin to describe them? Laughter rings freely, the merry melody of music from a string band sweeping the air as dancers circle across the floor. Wine glasses clink as people toast to prosperity and magic, hoping to see the weather ease up soon, and even the queen herself is out and about, walking amidst the crowd, a smile on her face as she mingles with the few faeries bold enough to approach her.
But Lilia—
He feels nothing watching all this. Nothing at all.
And yet… there is something else. That peculiar emotion buried underneath… it sings to him, calls to him, as though someone’s voice were tugging at a string. It only strengthens as the night goes on, likened to an unbearable itch; it is the first blissful thing he has felt in what feels like an eternity, and Lilia—
He misses it. He misses being able to love, to feel something other than apathy at best, and all these horrible, miserable emotions at worst — a repugnance, a rage, an irascibility that sparks every time someone tries to converse with him. Lilia misses being able to love freely, his heart softening as he grows older, brought on by the loss he’s experienced, and the love he mustered up to be able to raise Malleus into the man he is today.
So who can blame him for slipping off, for finding a way out of the castle grounds? Lilia answers the call, sneaking past guards who are far too drunk on wine, laughing and shouting as they play games at their stations. He does not bother with whisking up thick clothes for himself; Lilia merely plunges into the blizzard, battered at once by shrieking winds and a pelting of snow against his face, of a storm so deadly chilling that it would ravage even the strongest of faes.
And yet, he does not feel cold.
He grits his teeth as he presses on, dragging his legs through the thick boughs of snow. Lilia knows not how long it takes for him to trudge, only that it feels like forever — but he knows he is getting somewhere, because with each step he takes, the tugging in his chest grows and grows, the intensity of the emotion exciting him for the first time in months.
Is this the answer to his ailment?
Is there a cure tucked within the heart of the storm?
Lilia takes one step, and then another. He takes a third, and—
All at once, everything stops.
The wind dies away. The blizzard softens to a gentle snowfall. Little flakes of snow dance through the air as Lilia walks forward, head turning to and fro. How peculiar this is! He raises a hand, watching a flake fall into the open palm of his hand and rest there, and it is only the sound of hooves clumping against snow that snaps him out of his reverie.
Lilia turns his head, and sees a child.
A boy, who gazes at him with wide eyes that reflect the northern lights — auroras of shifting veins tinted shades of pink, purple, and blue, lights that Lilia has only gotten the chance to see once during a journey across the world. His hair sweeps across his forehead, locks of the purest silver as though spun from the nighttime stars, streaked with white like the pristine paleness of snow. He sits on a white stag, ice-spun crystals hanging from its glacial antlers, and around him is a fur-lined cloak and hood that swallows him whole, far too big for his tiny body.
Lilia’s breathing hitches—
Because the boy before him is the most beautiful thing he has seen in a long time.
“Hello,” the boy says after a while, a glimmering curiosity in those wide eyes of his. His mount trots forward, bringing him closer. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says, looking at Lilia closely.
At that, Lilia laughs. “I could say the same to you, little one.” He rests a hand on his hips, relishing in the joy, the curiosity, the emotions that flood him in full force; it has been so long! “It is a rare sight to see a young boy riding a stag in a storm like this.”
The boy’s face falls, and Lilia feels… worried. Did he upset him somehow? “I’ve been trying to stop the storm for a while now,” the boy explains, auroral eyes flicking to the storm that rages outside the bubble they’re within, continuing to ravage the valley to no end. “B-but it’s my first time really trying such a thing, and I don’t… really know how.”
Ah, Lilia thinks, finally coming to understand. A lost child. A boy with power over the very elements itself, who can control the season of cold and snow. And yet, who would place such responsibility upon a child, one so very young? He feels the fervent urge to lean in and coddle him, to reassure him that it’s alright, you’re trying your very best, I can help you if you just let me.
And why shouldn’t he do such a thing?
“I can help you, if you would like.”
In a flash, those pupils lock on him. “Would you?” the boy breathes. “I-I wouldn’t want to trouble you, mister—”
“It’s no trouble at all!” Lilia insists, stepping forward with a beaming smile on his face. He reaches out for the stag, feeling the beast nuzzle against the palm of his hand as he strokes it gently. Why should he return to the castle, to that unyielding, endless void of apathy and misery? Here, with the boy with eyes like the auroras and hair like the stars, Lilia feels something — the warm glow of parental affection, already growing so attached to such a young child.
“Then…” the boy mumbles, “would you come with me?”
Lilia only smiles. “Of course.”
And as he clambers onto the back of the steed, he asks, before they leave, one final question: “Pray tell, little one, what is your name?”
“My name?” the boy echoes, furrowing his brows. “I… I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
Lilia arches an eyebrow. What kind of a lonely life must this boy live, if he has not even considered his lack of a name? “Then would you mind if I gave you one?” he offers. Oh, it is such an incredibly forward move to suggest such a thing, with how important names are to his kind. But already, he is attached, his very soul bound to this child who gazes at him in wonder at the possibility of wielding his own name.
And the boy nods.
“Silver,” Lilia says, the name coming to him at once. Like the shine of the gleaming moon, the glitter of the stars, the wispy fall of the snow around them. Love blooms in his chest, the warmth cradling his very soul; Lilia curls his arms around the boy, his body so cold even through the chilling fabric of his cloak, pulling him against his chest into a hug. “That shall be your name.”
“Silver,” the boy echoes, testing it out on his tongue. He tilts his head back, a small smile gracing his rounded cheeks as he looks up at Lilia. “Thank you, mister. Could I ask what your name is?”
“It is Lilia, dear one,” he croons, relinquishing his name without a second thought. The two of them are bonded in mere moments, Lilia filled with a fulfilment he has not felt since that prick of a shard entered his eye.
There is nothing left for him here. That is what he tells himself as Silver leads them away, commanding his steed to take off into a prancing gallop, bursting from the tranquil heart of the storm into the raging blizzard, whisking them back to their home.
(Lilia fails to notice the figure that bursts through the clearing, chartreuse eyes widening in horror as a mouth parts to scream his name. He does not notice the horned boy who shivers in the cold, eyes wide as the wind whips at his long hair, watching the stag prance away, the boy who leads it ripping his guardian away from his grasp.)
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lumdays · 12 days
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"cause you could be the one that i love"
a jade leech x izuku midoriya one-shot 😨
idea from @quartztwst 💥💥💥
trope: uuuh mutual pining+childhood friends to crush to maybe lovers when they maybe have the balls to ask eachother out
warnings: english isn't my first language so watch out for grammar errors 😞, jade being cringe (when is he not), lack of azul ashengrotto but it's only because he's actively avoiding downbad jade, jade being the bubonic plague personified, floyd using slang because he does, MY HERO ACADEMIA, strange mha x twst crossover in which quirks are unique magics cause i hate calling a super cool power a QUIRK, BAD WRITING!!!!!!
"and i become hypnotised by freckles and bright eyes, tongue-tied"
jade loved izuku. a shocker to no one but him, apparently.
"whaddya mean how'd i know about you like-liking sea sheepie?" his twin brother floyd drawled, "you ain't slick, that's how."
"stop asking me strange questions on your shift, jade." azul gave him a flat look before readjusting his glasses, "but if you must, i'd say i realised your... feelings for midoriya when you tried to name another one of your mushroom dishes after him for the third time in a row even after i denied your submission the first and second time."
it was an unexpected realisation but not one he found that surprising—now that he thought about it, he had always loved izuku. not the way he loved him now obviously but even when they were younger, he had always appreciated him some way somewhat—whether it was for his notebooks filled with almost scarily accurate and detailed information about famous mages' unique magics, his funny little quirks, the astounding determination and strength laying dormant within him, the cleverness he displayed in difficult situations, his optimism, his laugh, his smile, his freckles, his green eyes akin to grass, to leaves, to seaweed, to sea glass and to well, jade.
he sighed as he leaned over the counter of mostro lounge in a particularly dramatic way, woe is the poor eel who fell head over heels for a human, right? though he imagined it wouldn't be so bad if said-human loved him back. they could hang out like they used to at takoba bay, except they'd call it a date this time.
he started spacing out at the thought of izuku and him, holding hands, under the shade of an umbrella on the beach, laughing, swimming, him diving under the water and dragging the smaller boy with him for a few seconds, maybe kissing—
"ow!" jade whipped around to glare at his brother, who was giving him a dirty look—as if he had been the one to kick him in the shin.
jade shot him a pointed smile, "what could that possibly have been for, brother dearest?" floyd rolled his eyes as he turned away, "dunno, maybe for being a cornball in public??" he cackled, loud and mocking, as jade threw an empty bottle at him, his aim a bit off—enough to miss his twin's back as he slipped back in the kitchen. he could already hear azul berating him for this—for daydreaming on shift or for throwing a possibly harmful item, missing floyd and it hitting the wall instead, he didn't know yet.
throwing possibly harmful items at others and missing... that reminded him of his and izuku's first meeting, though he hadn't meant to throw anything at anyone with his projectiles... the first time, at least. he smiled giddily.
truly, how lucky and fortunate jade leech was to be able to love izuku midoriya.
——————————
"feelin' like a face in the crowd, i'm reaching for you, terrified"
izuku loved jade. he loved, jade. his childhood friend, the eelmer, the sneaky bastard with a silver tongue (endearment), the obscenely tall, nice (to him at least), caring (derogatory), sweet (questionable claim) guy named jade. he sighed into his palms before looking up and staring at a picture of them he stuck on the wall a few years ago, jade had been gushing about a new species of mushroom he had found on one of his hikes when his mom snapped it. he, on the other hand, had been... looking at the other boy. no, that wasn't the right word to describe the look in his eyes then—he had been admiring him. how could he not? the merfolk was so passionate when he talked about something he truly loved... he wondered if he would talk about him that way if they ever—oh.
this was bad, this was really really bad. he couldn't let this happen, but surely he could fix this some way somewhat, right? he racked his brain for a way to cover this mess up, he wasn't a good actor, he couldn't even entertain the idea of pretending he doesn't love him because that would only result in jade teasing him to death—which would be a really pathetic death, even for him. he couldn't avoid him either—that was simply impossible, one because he doesn't actually want to stay away from him and two because he knows for a fact that if he tried doing that, jade could and absolutely would find him and force him to talk to him again.
he flopped down on his bed to roll around on his mattress in self-pity, if it had been a passing crush like what he had felt for uraraka in his first year then maybe he could've ignored the pull—but the tide was clearly stronger than him this time, and the depths of his feelings was scary. the honesty this love would cost him terrified him. he shook his head, how hypocritical of him to fall for someone who could force the truth out of him anytime any day.
after a few more weeks (a month or two) of agony, he admitted defeat. there was no way to escape this, izuku would have to face his feelings, he would have to face jade.
and so he would, he would reach for his hand and it would be up to jade whether he'd take it or brush it off.
...he would rather if he took it though.
also scraps LOL:
though izuku would like to say so, jade hadn't always been his friend. with him running after katsuki and jade doing god-knows-what with his brother under the sea, they really had had no reason to meet when they were children.
until they did, and well, saying it hadn’t been the friendliest first meeting was an understatement.
they were both 10 when they first met, it was winter—just a little while before christmas. izuku had been looking for seashells or pretty rocks to gift his mom while narrowly avoiding the growing amount of trash on the surface of takoba bay's once beautiful shore.
jade, on the other hand, had been grudgingly dragging plastic bags to the surface—he was on cleaning duty that day. 'cleaning duty' mainly consisted of finding human junk in the sea and putting it back to where it came from—land. the little eel thought that cleaning up after others—especially complete strangers—was mind-numblingly boring, but kept quiet while his twin brother floyd complained, rather loudly, for everyone and anyone within reach to hear.
instead, he vengefully threw empty cans and other items like soggy shoes towards the beach. honestly, how unfair was it that he had to pick up some random landdwellers' trash? he didn't tell them to throw their junk in his home, did he? he kept on throwing stuff until one of his projectiles didn't meet the sand but a little boy's face.
in his defence, it had been an honest mistake—he really hadn't meant to throw a dirty swimsuit at someone's head.
——————————
jade wouldn't ever want to tell anyone he had always been izuku's friend, he thought that would undermine everything they went through together—which would be a shame, truly. their bond was really precious to him as it is something he earned—it was not natural like his and floyd's nor was it born out of mutual benefit like his and azul's. it was something that grew with them and soon enough tied them together like an invisible string. he thought that their relationship was fine just like that, more than fine actually.
but it seemed as though he was the only one who felt that way, that strongly.
the eel listened as izuku talked about a classmate, he then watched as izuku walked with a boy and a girl on the beach. he kept on watching and listening as the smaller boy grew away and apart from him—still, they were friends, so izuku kept visiting him. but it felt different, now that jade knew the boy treated him like every other friend he had, he felt... a bit of everything all at once. he was happy his friend had a lot of friends now, really. he was also maybe a bit jealous of how many friends he had too. or maybe it was that he was jealous of the friends because of how much time they got to spend with him? he wasn't sure. he also felt fear, fear that maybe izuku would leave him again, but to bask in the presence of others this time.
he hated that idea.
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berryless · 5 months
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And if I do? (Malleus's POV)
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When she covers his lips, struggling for a breath of fresh air yet again, Malleus grasps at her wrist as he kisses her palm. Each one of her fingers. The back of her hand when he turns it around. Her pulse. Then he rolls together with her, pressing her down, and puts his lips to her neck.
Every part of her that he didn't dare to touch, every part that her loose clothes kept well hidden. That shallow dip between her collarbones, the thin short scar beneath it. His lips press against her fast-beating heart, and for a moment Malleus revels in the knowledge that he's the one who made this sound so frantic. That underneath this skin, and flesh, and bones, in her very core Freya treasures a part of him in the same way he does when it comes to her.
For the first time that anxious throbbing at the back of his throat, that terrified whisper of constant loneliness in his ears dies down, swallowed by the certainty that the person so dear to him holds him in their heart.
Malleus Draconia/Original Female Character Fanfiction (PWP, NC-17 || 17k words || Birthday Boy SSR AU)
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