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#yandere malleus x reader
pakunod-a · 2 days
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Malleus Draconia, who...
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...is fascinated by you. How do you manage to survive in a school of mages, considering your lack of magical power? You're a human, you say? Fascinating indeed. ...becomes your friend. Very close, practically inseparable. You, a lost, magic-less human in a world of mages, and him, a powerful mage hidden behind an air of elegance and intimidation. He understands you very well, what it's like to be different, an outcast. In turn, you surely understand his pains too, yes? ...feels overjoyed when you express that you too, understand what he goes through. Malleus Draconia, one of the five most powerful mages in this world, feels his heart leap when you tell him you understand him and how he feels. ...slowly confuses himself with your stories of your homeland. The nostalgia in your tales are overwhelming, the way you talk about your childhood home, your friends, your previous life before Twisted Wonderland's intervention.. it wasn't something he could empathize with. ...can't wrap his head around the fact you want to go home. Does he not provide you affection? The comfort of a home? Warmth? Are your primary needs not met? He has trouble understanding the need to find a way back home to your family; you have him, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek! Aren't they enough? ...gives in to the voice in his head urging him to protect you, to care for you like his own. His draconic instincts telling him to hoard what he holds dear to his heart, to guard what little he has to cherish. ...straight up kidnaps you. He takes you for himself, locking you up in a tower, vowing to guard it forever; just like a fairytale. ...won't let you go. There is no way home for you now. Please understand, he's found his soulmate—platonic or romantic—who he needs to stay by his side, forever. Malleus Draconia, who loves you. You love him too, don't you? A/N: disappeared for too long,,, must upload content,,, exams stressful,,, need outlet to spend sad energy on,,, almost out of high school,, must hang onnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,,, if written grammatically incorrectly, i'm sorry. i'm not good in english :( i haven't written anything in a while, just went off of brain waves always, take care of yourself, keep yourself hydrated, and love yourself. take care >.< - 1, Yuan
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queensharotto · 3 months
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Achievement Unlocked: Malleus’s Wrath
To unlock: Mess with the MC
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Mc: *goes on date with some random guy*
Yandere Malleus:
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After dates that guy goes missing....
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merakiui · 3 months
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never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.
An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.
It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.
But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.
Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.
Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.
Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.
The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.
Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.
You can be loved.
Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.
Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.
Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?
Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.
He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.
But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.
Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.
Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.
Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.
Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.
Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.
A mother.
You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.
Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.
There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.
He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.
The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.
“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”
He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.
These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.
Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.
Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.
Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.
Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.
In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.
He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.
Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.
At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.
He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.
You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.
Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.
“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”
Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.
Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.
He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.
He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.
This is love.
Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.
You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.
He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.
You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.
A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 
Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.
Oh, he came inside.
Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.
An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.
This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.
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tiyoin · 8 days
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morality
‘malleus x reader’
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malleus, who every time you fall asleep surrounds you in bristling thorns.
malleus, who does everything in his power to extend your life. he believes that stopping time- even a few hours would give him that much more time with you in the future.
malleus, who cares so deeply for your health and well being, but can’t help but make you sleep more often than you usually would in hopes of extending your life
malleus, who sacrifices the present for the future. it doesn’t matter if you’re awake when he’s off completing royal duties.
malleus thinks that’s time wasted that could be saved for the future. he’ll sometimes keep you under his spell for a few days, but it’s okay. you aren’t missing much anyways as you’d always voice how sad, cold, and lonely the palace feels without him.
malleus feels no guilt in commanding you to sleep. he thinks it’s a fair trade for the dreams he gives you. where you always receive a happy ending. with him, of course. with the hopes that those dreams will have you longing for the days to come.
malleus’ favorite dream to bestow up you was the one where you and him are in a cabin in the woods. especially the scene of two purple and onyx eggs cuddled up nicely in your arms. your back laid against his chest, your body almost sinking into his, almost like you were trying to steal the little warmth his reptilian blood possessed. or maybe, it was him whose arms were wrapped tightly around your body that was trying to keep you as close as possible.
malleus would think the roaring fire that sat not even a meter away would be enough to keep you both warm. not even the blankets in your shared bedroom seemed to quell the ice in your veins…
malleus would either read to the three of you, a new book each time- or, the two of you would discus baby names. brainstorming ideas to and new endings so you could continue the legacy of his ancestral names. he could never get tired of the way you referred to your little miracles; m&m. it was a candy from your home, you’d always explain, never failing to make his lips curl up in amusement.
malleus, who was warned that this marriage, this love was doomed from the very beginning. but he didn’t care, hadn’t fully considered your morality as there had to be a way to extend it… yet even lilia wasn’t able to escape death’s cynical clutches.
malleus who must always listen to your dreams, your hopes and excitement of the future, deep down knowing that it’ll never happen. that they’re never occur and never take fruition. and it frustrates him.
malleus who would send you into a deep slumber when he wrecked the castle, screams and wails of anguish echoing throughout the soulless walls of briar palace. was this how his grandmother felt? completely and utterly alone? her lover and daughter long gone as she was condemned to more pointless years of empty solitude. with not enough love for even him? her grandson.
is that how he’ll turn out? cold and alone?
insane?
not even sebek would last long. silver was on the same clock as you, both condemned to sleeping to stop the ticking hands of time that seemed to tick tick away.
malleus wanted a family, you knew that. biology be damned he’ll have his happily ever after with you. with every dream he can see the want growing inside you too.
malleus wants his, your children to at least know who the woman in the portrait is. he wants you to tuck them into bed, watch their first steps, and console them when the weight of your morality gets placed on their young shoulders.
malleus wants to scold them for breaking objects while you give him those big pleading eyes to ‘give them a break! they’re just learning how to walk in their human forms,’ malleus wants to catch the three of you baking cookies in the royal palace, he wants his children to sneak into meetings just to see him- only for you to be seen (and heard) trying to get them out without entering yourself. he would sometimes chuckle, imagining them hanging off of sebek like a ‘jungle gym’ (whatever that was) as the knight would do everything in his power to not move.
he wants you there to witness their changing from dragon to human, he wants to go through dragon teething with you as he knows it was a struggle for lilia alone. he wants them to draw on the old suffocating walls- only to be interrupted by your horrified gasp. scolding them for doing such a thing to the royal palace, only for him to be revealed as an accomplice. doodling away with them while critiquing and adding onto their drawings.
malleus wants to stress sebek out as he searches high and low for the king, who was miles away in a ruine with his family playing hooky. of course, not without a secret picnic basket and blankets.
he wants you on his back while he’s in his dragon form, his children struggling to fly at his speed as you take a family glide through the starry night just because.
he wants them to tell him that he was doing the right thing by timing out your death clock, saving a few minutes for tomorrow.
he wants you there when him and his future children go on diplomatic missions to other nations. he wants to enjoy the cuisine with you, the sights and views with you like that one college trip to the scalding sand. he already knows the words he’d tell that he failed to tell during that trip. that nothing will ever compare to the twinkle in your eyes or the beauty of your smile. he wants to hear his children’s groans and remarks of disgust as he spews poetry at you. kisses you. like it’s the last time he ever will…
there’s all these wants that he’ll never have.
he… hopes, his children will get their magic early- especially their unique magic in hopes that one of them can save you from your fate.
he wants a family portrait, with all four- or more, of you- this fully depending on how your body will deal with the trauma of the birth of your first born.
malleus curses the fates everyday for making his soulmate- his mate, mortal. receiving a human soul instead of a fae’s… it’s a cruel joke, he chalks up on night, when his temper was especially bad. when his thoughts were more pessimistic than usual. all because he spotted your first grey hair as you arrive in your early thirties.
malleus, who stands placid in the library, staring at the locked glass doors of the forbidden section. his fist clenches, then unclenches repeatedly- a war going on in his mind as he remembers his grandmother’s warnings of entering that room… of reading and using the contents of those books.
malleus scoffs, arrogance radiating from the young prince-king. his grandmother’s image flashes through his vision when his touches the door, sternly warning him of the cardinal sin that would be committed if he ever used the dark magic their ancestors created, used, and evidently locked away. she warned him, begged him to never feed into the whispers of their DNA, to never entertain the delusions that came with puberty and age. to learn about the world so he knows the natural order of things- the circle of life and death that he too, would one day be apart of…
malleus will have his happily ever after. he’s suffered so much already, doesn’t he deserve it?
the answer is yes. yet fate keeps continuing to deny him his right.
malleus deserves the happiness he never got to experience, family that he was robbed of all those years ago. and if he is to be condemned to tartarus for his misdeeds… then he will drag you down with him, forever together.
so sleep. dream your days away as malleus searches and scans the entire royal archives for spells or potion recipes that can fix this problem.
he promises the days will no longer bleed together, he promises you and silver- even sebek, will be able to stay awake for as long as him. he would give his soul to make sure the three of you stayed.
malleus will be there when you receive the news of your friend’s deaths. dropping like flies one by one as the years continue to pass. you will have each other when you stop reviving funeral invitations. he will be there for you when you look in the mirror, age not matching your appearance as you compare your hands to that of your friend’s corpses. you will truly have only him, and he hopes you will want to stay with him for as long as possible, just as he wishes.
he will take care of everything, so don’t fight it, okay? he will allow you to live different lives throughout each dream. illusion of free will at play since he will always be there, condemning you to the same love, same life, and same routine no matter where he places you.
he loves you… so very much.
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yanmaresu · 1 year
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৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) The last one of the pov yandere overblot drawings! I tought it would be pretty if the purple clothes glowed too. Also hi, I'm back.
Tremendo pedazo de pixel que es el Malleus, todo bonito ahí con su pelo echado para atrás.
A version without text under the line.
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Hello 👋 can I get a little body switcheru with twist dorm liders and Yuu? Even better if we'd have F!Yuu in this one ❤️!
I don't think I'll be doing all the dorm leaders right now but just a few 🖤🖤🖤
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Body Switch | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
What a gift! To see precisely what your obsession sees, to touch with their perfect hand, to hear their lovely voice whenever they opened their mouth. Oh, the possibilities are endless! No matter the circumstance this is the stuff of dreams nightmares:
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Vil Schoenheit
“OH SEVENS!”
Is at first horrified at the feeling of not being in his perfectly preened body
In his clean and not dingy home
But it diminishes when he realizes the one screaming in the dirty mirror is you
His precious love
“Ergh these black heads are insane. My potato has been neglecting their routine. That’ll be good to make a note of.”
He immediately gets to work
He has to make the next 24 hours in his dearest’s body count 
and he’s got so much to do and such little time
Immediately he inspects your home and makes a note of everything that’s lacking in Ramshackle
Perfect ammunition for his proposal to move to Pomefiore
Next he reads your diary or journal if you have one
And he dives into your photos and makes a mental note to send more headshots to you
Next he goes to Rook
“We have less than 12 hours before I return, get your camera.”
Already planned and prepared the photos are perfection
Next he takes your measurements 
Both for clothes and for ropes and fluffy cuffs
He debates deleting your friends from your contacts
But he’s not petty he is he’ll just send a text or two with passive aggressive undertones
And when he’s got close to an hour 
He takes the time to…examine your every inch …careful to not leave a mess behind
“So…soft and round…they will look glorious in couture.”
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Idia Shroud
“Eeek! It worked!”
Spends nearly an hour squealing and jumping around
But then he goes to the mirror and starts his fantasy 
Using your lips to confess an undying love to Idia Shroud 
He records it and everything 
Next he goes to his room, already set up to allow a very specific code
He goes to his dorm
Everything is going perfectly to plan
Next he plans to dress you in the cosplay he already has your measurements for
“Yes! Now I just have to take this o-o-off! Ack! T-their s-skin! No! I can’t e-e-even if I’ve s-seen it through the camra it is so different!”
He genuinely can’t make it past your shirt
Too embarrassed and caught up in simply seeing all your skin
So instead he’ll move onto the next objective
Going to the pick up spot he’d already designated
Riding calmly as your taken to some unknown artificial island 
“Hehehe well at least one objective was completed…let’s just say that other one isn’t one of my skill levels just yet. Hehehe I’ll have more than enough time to level up though!”
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Malleus Draconia
Someone or you must have said that little expression
“Try walking in my shoes! Its really inconvenient when you scare everyone away from me!”
“In your shoes?”
So he tries it 
Having your body become his own, allowing a day without his, in your words: overpowered bod
Oh is he warm
So warm he feels like your constantly hugging him 
Its immaculate
Than he spends a good while just admiring you in the mirror 
More than happy to study every pore of your skin in great detail
“Oh I did not realize their birth mark was this adorable.”
But he’ll soon find your legs ache so easily
Why can’t he stand straight for seven hours without your knees getting wobbly
Or how defenseless you are 
With nothing but his tiny wisps if his own magic to sense 
Its kind of horrifying 
But as agreed he tries to go throughout the day as you 
Enjoying the attention of all your friends
Granted they send weird looks when he says something odd
But you’ve already employed Grim as ‘his wingman’
Who frantically tries to get him through the day
He learns so much ‘by being in your shoes’ 
“I do not appreciate everyone having such careless interactions with you, especially when the amount of muscle let alone magic is…concerning.”
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yan-lorkai · 19 days
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Hi Lorkai! I really like your work! I hope I'm not breaking any rules, but could I request something?
So, Malleus hatched from an egg, right? I was thinking about a dragon egg magically appearing in his bed while he sleeps. When he sees it, he knows it's his and his darling's baby. Like, the egg manifests because he loves his darling VERY MUCH.
What do you think he would do next? Would he tell his darling about their baby, or keep it a secret? Would he use the egg to baby-trap his darling?
If you're uncomfortable writing this request, feel free to ignore it! It's alright, I understand. Have a great day!"
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hiii darling (⁠。⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠。⁠)⁠ノ~, thanks for your gentle words. Wrote a little drabble and some hcs for you, hope you like it and have a good day /night too!
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It was almost like a dream coming true, albeit a bit too early. Malleus was still courting his beloved, slowly expressing his interest through his gestures and words, but he loved his beloved so much that his feelings simply gave life to a whole new being. And as soon as he wakes up in the morning, his eyes water when he sees the egg, when he holds it and feels life pulsing inside. Malleus doesn't usually cry but he cries a waterfall while he holds his unborn child. He is just that happy.
His and his darling's child. Your child. He already imagine they would look. Would they look more like you or more like him? Would they smile so sweetly like you? Would they be sassy and funny like you? Gods, he already wished to meet them. Alas, dragon faes take a while to hatch.
Thunder rolls across the dark skies as a sea of ​​feelings passes through him. And while he holds the egg against his chest, Malleus sets out to find you and tell you the news. He knows where you are, he can feel it and in a shower of green fireflies he appears in front of you. Eyes still shining with tears and a light blush over his face.
"Meet our child." He says softly. Softer than anything he's ever said, so happy that he hands you the egg to hold while he explains to you how dragon fae are conceived.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Now, how Malleus act depends on how you react to the news. He could be a doting boyfriend (and someday in the future a husband) to you and an amazing father for the child. If you are happy with the news, he's going to be delighted, already planning your marriage and life in his mind, discussing names for your child and the color palette for their room. Overall the next days he's spending each and every minute by your side.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Though the moment the child is born, all of you are going home. A school is no place for a baby to grow up, if you still want to pursue your education then Malleus is going to hire the best professors to give you private lessons in the castle. And also to help you adapt to fae society if you are human.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ But if you are to reject him or deny being the other parent, Malleus will not take this lightly. The child is yours, no amount of denying will work. You may just be scared but this is no excuse to sprout lies, a new life was born for his love for you and dragon fae needs love from both parents to exist, or so he says. He'll guilt trip into becoming the other parent and to stay with him. He didn't have his parents growing up and he was so so lonely, his child will have both parents present, even if he has to use his magic on you for you to cooperate.
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Note
Requests are open?? May I request Lilia and Malleus from the self aware au with a player who is an artist and draws them a lot?
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, death, murder, hypocrisy, fire, coma, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior
Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player is an artist who draws them a lot
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Doesn't matter what kind of style and form of art you practice, you have a fan
Classical? Great! Realism? Wonderful! Stick-man-style? He put the picture in a golden frame (All hail the stick-man style!)
But if Malleus were to ever find out that said stick man is supposed to be him, well he would be over the moon
It was a totally normal day, a cat was choking up a hairball and some poor student fell off of his broom in flying class and was now stuck in a tree
But that is of no importance to us
What is of importance though is Malleus strolling down the path down to Ramshackle and seeing you sit on the stairs with paper and other drawing utensils
Completely normal. Peaceful even. Maybe a bit too peaceful
You see, if you hadn't been too absorbed into rubbing colored pigments into dead wood then you would have seen the tall black wall approaching you
A shadow falls over your shoulder and you scream
Is that... him? Why is the Overseer draw-oh
Malleus is metaphorically (more or less. Meh, he is probably this close to doing it also literally) frothing from his mouth after seeing himself in more than just one paper after the small stack stabilizing the paper you drew on slipped from your hands
Forgetting his manners he rips the paper from the ground, staring with eyes wide as plates onto the thinly pressed wood (granny is somewhere shaking her head)
Why would the Overseer, watcher over worlds, almighty ruler of everything, a god, draw him?
Coughing nervously you explained that you just are interested in are and liked to draw him
Later when he is back in Diasomnia Lilia is greeted with the sight of a tail-wagging Malleus (yes Malleus has a tail and I have no idea how he hides it)
“Lilia, the Overseer likes to draw me.”-moments before calamity struck and Malleus accidentally lit the dorm aflame from sheer joy
But... perhaps you shouldn't draw anyone else
Who knows? Maybe that person disappears for a while and just to be found in a deep coma (don't do it)
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Whoa whoa whoa darling, let us not jump at him from nowhere with the fact that you like to draw him
After all, he is quite old and we don't know what his poor heart can still take
Now how about you tell him about your interest in art fir- ah... From your expression I take that it is too late for that
Indeed it is
One day you were just sitting there in Ramshackle, T-posing or whatever you do when you are not drawing
Remember that scene when Lilia was introduced to us? Well “How do you do fellow kids” over here just popped out of thin air
Now, that would have been nothing special if it wasn't for the stack of paper with his face on it on the table...
Lilia is staring, you are staring and the gargoyles are facepalming
Poor man has to take a seat all whilst you watch him with cold sweat running down your back
Suddenly Lilia isn't that “always energetic” guy but looks a lot more vulnerable
In Lilias mind however he is planning how to burn that one portrait of himself in the Draconia castle and replace it with your art
Or so he thought until he looked what else you drew
For goodness sake, someone call an ambulance! I think he is about to pass out!
If the situation wasn't already awkward enough for you (and euphoric for him) Lilia suddenly kneels down, saying something about being honored and him swearing to be forever loyal to you
Oh sweet summer child, how easily you told him “Oh thanks...” If only you knew what would follow...
You see, Lilia might have had seen a few too many heads being severed from their bodies but, oh well, all those students were a teeny tiny bit too close to you for his comfort
Suddenly there is an increase in missing students who get found in... uh... “not compatible with life” conditions
See? It's dangerous outside! Let him watch over you!
Says the person responsible for everything
You had shown your appreciation through your art, now it's his turn to show his
And what if a few students need to get hurt? (Yeah, “hurt”)
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malewifeharem · 1 month
Note
YAYYY I LOVED YAN BELPHIE!! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF.. YAN MALLEUS... AND YOU TOUCH HIS HORNS..... ☁️
touching yan!malleus's horns
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彡- ,, brainrot of touching yandere malleus's horns
cw ⁞ yandere so obsessive behavior as usual, mentions of abduction, coercion via love potion
an ⁞ WELCOME BACK ☁️ ANON!!!
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oh malleus would love it if you reciprocated his affection for once. he expected something like hand-holding or a kiss at most but you dived in for his horns first?????
sevens, do you know what you do to him...? faes show their love for each other by caring for the other's horns. does this mean you love him too? oh, he's OVERJOYED. he knew you were afraid of him when he first abducted you but he's so glad that you finally overcame your fear!
for your next milestone together, he gifts you a horn maintenance kit. you question him for the purpose of his gift — you're human, you don't have horns! he chuckles and tells you that he has another gift for you prepared but he wanted to present this to you first.
"w-will you help me groom my horns and tail...?" he asks hesitantly, scared that you might refuse and you don't like him after all.
if you accept, then congrats. you've made him a happy dragon, he's yours to keep now! just be warned, you're gonna be doing this every night now...! your hands are so soft and warm compared to his appendages, please keep going... he gives out soft hums when the gentle pads of your fingers rub against the small crevices between his scales.
if you reject, he'll just look down in dismay. his fears were right after all... he's like a kicked sad puppy. he'll still hand you your actual gift, albeit a little reluctantly. what if you don't like it too? your gift is a tomodatchi toy, matching with his dragon gao gao. whether you like it or not, is up to you. he understands that maybe he was overzealous, he'll try to give you the same kit again next time. but keep refusing and he'll slip a love potion in your food again!
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aki-shun · 11 months
Text
◈Stained Love◈ [M!Reader x YAN!OB!Malleus Draconia]
This story will change according to the choices, just like in the game. So yes, there will be a special vote for this episode. Which end will we reach first (〜 ̄▽ ̄)〜
Part-1 Part-2「here」
TW: somnophilia(?), some unauthorized things, it’s not healthy , masturbation, smut, Using the blot as a lubricant (Don't ask why)
Sorry for bad grammar (English is not my first language)
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Your head is on his shoulder. His right hand is wrapped around your waist, barbed vines wrapped around your legs and ankles like a chain. His left hand was roaming your calves. Every now and then, his hand would squeeze your hips, then lightly caress where he squeezed. He tilts his head towards you, inhaling your scent, rubbing his nose against your temples. It made it easier to access by leaning you back a bit. He kept humming his song, rubbing his nose on your neck. He licked a strip from the lower part of your neck to your chin.
Ahh if you knew what you did to me. How you it affects me, how you it triggers me~
His embrace tightened as he continued to fiddle with your neck. The pain between his thighs increased as he dealt with you. These feelings, which he had suppressed for a long time, were no longer suppressed by his will. This defenseless and inviting state of you, this sleeping state of yours, where your face takes on the sinless and innocent expression like an angel, was weakening him. But his will was still standing. He couldn't defile you before he could tell you about his feelings for you. His mind was fighting a great battle between his desires and his will. He was snapped out of his thoughts as a drop of blot dripping from his face fell onto your lips. The stain drains from your lips, dripping down your chin.
┏━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━┓
𓆩•✧◈✧•𓆪
┗━━━━•❅•°•❈•°•❅•━━━━┛
He was whimpering against your neck. His hand was stroking his cock hard. He had dreamed of you most of the time. But he's never masturbated thinking about you before. Although the blot in his hands was intense, it facilitated the movements of his hands.

He hums the song while whimpering.

Your collarbones are visible because the top buttons of your shirt are open. He bit your collarbones lightly, leaving a mark or two. The softness of her skin made her want to do more. But he wasn't going to do that by his decision, just yet. He quickened his movements as he inhaled your scent. Who knows what would happen to his reputation if someone saw him doing this right now. But right now there was only him and the others(and you) sleeping. They were all in their happiest dreams right now. He snuggled closer to you and his movements began to become more harsh.

He hadn't done anything like this in years. He spent most of his time learning string instruments and studying royal lessons as the future king. So this feeling of pleasure he was experiencing now caused him to come sooner than usual. At the same time, it was effective in you sleeping on his lap. His semen was dense, and there was also black blotting fluids alongside the white fluid. (Either because it's out of his body or because he's using the blot as a lubricant. The choice is yours. :)

He exhales deeply. He whispers some kind of magic, and the mess he's made is gone. He is looking around with his eyes. Everyone is sleeping. Everyone who is sleeping is in the most beautiful dream right now. Everyone who sleeps… is in the fairy tale where they are the most beautiful - the most desired - heroes of their own. He looked at you again.
What kind of dream are you having, my beautiful thorn?
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◸Zelf’s cat was jealous. So you have to wait for more… ᓚᘏᗢ◿
Voting for the next episode is in my blog.
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travellingarmy · 1 year
Text
✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙
✦❘༻𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝༺❘✦
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Malleus Draconia x fem!reader
Summary: Congratulations! Out of all the noble ladies that were in line to become a princess and soon-to-be queen consort, you had been chosen. Oh, what's this? But you aren't married off to your kingdom and is, in fact, married to another country whom raged war with yours for decades on end?
You find yourself face-to-face with an enemy of your homeland, hands held in marriage and surrounded in a pretty little illusion of a happy wedding with flowers and smiles of all whom watched. You begin to wonder if your life had already ended the moment you stepped foot outside your homeland, taking a gulp at the frightening look on the prince of this twisted kingdom that you'll be ruling alongside him. Maybe you should try to get to know him and make peace.. Maybe he might turn out to be not so scary after all.
⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱
Chapter 1 - The Beginning of an End
Chapter 2 - The Day I've Been Betrothed
Chapter 3 - Teas, Cakes, and the Sleeping Beauty
Chapter 3.5 - A Step Into the Social Circle
Chapter 4 - Here Comes the Red Prince
Chapter 4.5 - First Strike of the Consequence (Coming soon)
•••
⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱
Tags: If you wish to be notified when I upload a chapter, please let me know in the comment section of this post.
⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱
Updates will be slow since I want to try to push forth quality content so it might help you to get notified!
✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙
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ceruleancattail · 1 year
Note
Yandere Malleus??? So many possibilities with the future king
Ok as someone who plays on the en server, I'm going to write for him based on what I know. JP Malleus can stay far far away from me. Let me level my boys in peace.
tw:yandere, Malleus being a gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss/hj
Yandere Malleus Draconia
The Crown Prince of Briar Valley. Seated on his throne of thorns, surveying the land that lies before him. His subjects, taking a knee before him. The back of their heads exposed to him, eyes kept down.
Out of respect? Out of fear?
He's not too sure.
No one tells the truth in his court. Everything's hidden behind a veil of lies, woven with flattery as smooth as silk. They wrap around his eyes, tightening slowly but steadily. Blinding Malleus from the schemes of the court.
He thought that Night Raven College would be different. Life as a student, interacting with others like equals, for once in his life. Unfortunately, his reputation precedes him. The students all duck around him, scuttling away like ants from a fire.
His dorm mates worship him like a god. Malleus' flanked by two guards at all times. Everywhere he goes, people are watching. Flinching when he approaches. They hold him at arms' length,treat him as someone untouchable.
Out of respect? Out of fear?
Again, he does not know. Does it matter? It's a peaceful life. No one bothers him.... no one ever approaches him, for that matter. Malleus tells himself that it's fine. He enjoys the solitude.
That is, until he met you. The prefect of Ramshackle. The student who belongs to nowhere. A fresh face from another world. A brand new page, unsoiled by the norms of Twisted Wonderland. Someone who doesn't know him as Malleus Draconia.
Your eyes met his. You didn't wince at the sight of him. Even going as far as to dub him as "Hornton", you weren't afraid in the slightest. Drawn like a moth to the flame, Malleus finds himself drifting towards you. He finds comfort, in your company.
Child of man, you've bewitched him, have you not? This burn in his chest is unbearable. Tongues of flame searing your image deep into his heart.
You're the only one for him.
Malleus takes it upon himself to keep you protected. You have no need for other influences. The wagging tongues of people may lead you astray. He knows better, having grown up with the dizzying politics of the royal court. You, however... are a mere child of man. He'll take it upon himself to protect you.
Slowly, but surely, you'll start to realise that your friends are a little.. distant. They ignore you in the halls, turning tail whenever they catch a glimpse of you. Even Magicam is silent, no one ever reaching out to you.
No one but Malleus. He seeks your company at odd hours of the night. He stands over your sleeping form, offering a hand to you. It hurts, does it not? He knows how you feel. Take a walk with him, Prefect. His company may not be much, but he'll take away your pain.
Hand in hand, he guides you through the school grounds. It's somehow ethereal, the way something so familiar could look so different bathed in silvery moonlight. With a flick of his wrist, flames of emerald burst into life, swirling around you two. They hang in the air like fireflies, twinkling mischievously at you.
It's nights like this which help make you feel alive again. For those brief moments, your loneliness is banished. All you can feel is the warmth of the flames, and Malleus' fingers intertwined with yours. That's all you need to feel, really.
He’ll keep you by his side.
Out of Respect? Out of Fear?
He doesn’t care which.
Now, Prefect dear. Take his hand, and let him show you a piece of his world.
It'll be all you'll ever know.
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No Mc I can't stop you from spending time with others... But you can't stop me from cursing their entire bloodline for the next thousand years. Yes, Mc, this is how a healthy relationship works.
Yandere Malleus Propably
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merakiui · 3 months
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100%
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, captivity, very vague and slight implications of codependency, angst note - your mobile phone was at 100% when he took you away. with time, the percentage has diminished. so, too, does your hope for a brighter future.
The windowpane is spattered with rain.
Sitting cozy in a cushioned alcove, you watch the droplets slide down in regal rivulets, consolidating to form single streaks. The scenery beyond the window is bleak and dreary—a despondent landscape of gnarled, leafless trees and scratchy brambles stretching towards a dark, dismal sky. Sometimes you liken the rain to tears, wondering if Mother Nature weeps for all creatures or simply for you and your situation. Rare are the days in which the sun shines upon the craggy stone façade of your captor’s castle, and she is as benevolent as she is cruel.
For all of its sumptuous splendor, generational wealth filling the interior with priceless heirlooms and relics, it is an empty, cold structure. You’ve taken to enveloping yourself in thick furs, if only because these furs do not speak like the monster who so humbly offers his embrace. Though you’ve always considered yourself of strong, sturdy mind, your restraint is thinning. As the days pass and you shed clothing sizes like they’re second skins, you find yourself drawn to warmth.
Which is, ironically enough, contradictory to your current temperament. The windows, frigid like the grave, provide solace you cannot find anywhere else—for it is only tender warmth you receive from him. Had he not been so merciful, perhaps it would have been easier to shrink away and truly loathe him with every ounce of your being.
And yet, in order to escape the warmth which enshrouds, you seek the cold, bitter windows and their rain-weary countenance.
Lying beside you on the pillows, snoozing the afternoon away, a calico cat snores idly. She was a gift from him. You were neglectful of your mental health and thus, as per his guard’s suggestion, he sought to find a cat to cure your loneliness and inspire some form of happiness. You appreciate Silver—genuinely, you do—but the good luck a calico brings is not nearly enough to rescue you from captivity.
She was a stray, a scrawny thing with a limp and one bad eye. You took to her right away, scooping her up in your arms and lovingly naming her Cotton. Similarly, she returned your affections, rubbing her head against your palm and purring pleasantly.
Now she likes to nudge the dome that is your stomach, a great, round thing at only six months. Sometimes you think she’s more motherly than you are. You’ve never been able to care for much of anything. Plants wither under your touch, recipes spoil even when you follow them to the letter, and your electronics crack.
Your phone, more fractured than your very heart, is cold in your hands. The screen is blank; it’s dying. It was at 100% before. Now it’s been reduced to a sad 7%. There is no reception or connection to be had in Briar Valley. Your phone, once so powerful and all-knowing, is but a hollow shell. Useless. A digital photo album will expire at its final hour, and there’s no charger. He offered to use his magic to charge it, but he has never known his own strength and you couldn’t risk losing the treasured memories stored within.
Sometimes you’d return to old message logs and read through them. Now you can’t do that, lest you drain the battery quicker than intended.
“So this is where you’ve retreated,” Malleus notes, poking his head around the corner of a towering bookcase. Concern settles on his features. “Are you well? Sebek tells me you were absent for breakfast.” “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, watching his reflection through the stormy glass.
Malleus glances at Cotton and then at your phone as it rests in your clasp. “May I trouble you to eat just a little, if only some fruit?”
“I’m not hungry.” He nods, stalling. “Will you join me for lunch?”
“If I must.”
A small smile lifts his lips. “Are you cold? It can’t be very comfortable to sit there for such a long time. You’ll catch your death.”
“I hope.”
He tuts in disapproval and shrugs out of his cloak, draping it over you even though you’re already wearing a fleece robe. Malleus assesses you with a fleeting once-over.
“It doesn’t hurt to layer. You must understand where I’m coming from, dearest. Extreme temperatures serve to weaken those who are already so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile,” you snap, turning to scowl.
He doesn’t flinch at the heat smoldering in your eyes. “You’re human.”
“How many times did you have to practice that to come to terms with it?”
Malleus’s verdant stare narrows; his frown tightens. “It’s the truth.”
“I didn’t think you’d confront it.”
“I must if I’m to understand…” He exhales through his nose, deflating somewhat. “You’re in fine health. The physician tells me so. There’s no need to worry ourselves with ineffectual what-ifs.”
You turn your gaze on the sprawling forest next, unwilling to discuss the report and its subsequent conclusion: If she remains in good health and follows the recommended diet for an expecting mother, she’ll carry to term.
“My phone is dying, Malleus.”
“Is that not life? Lilia once said so.”
“My pictures… My everything is stored in this phone. It means so much to me.”
“Truly? Is there not a way to make physical copies of these photographs?”
“Unless Briar Valley has the technology to do so…”
“I’m afraid not.”
Malleus takes a daring step closer, endeavoring to comfort you. Cotton cracks her good eye open to peer at him. She hisses low in her throat, a protector standing small against something so tall. Pouting, clearly disheartened, Malleus heeds her warning and chooses to linger just within the bounds she deems acceptable.
“Yeah, that’s what I assumed.”
You heave a dejected sigh, your shoulders drooping. Seeking to cleanse your visual palate, you power the device on. 5% blinks back at you, an insignificant number sitting in a corner that you normally wouldn’t have paid much mind to. Now it weighs heavy, a reminder that the end is encroaching.
“I would’ve liked to keep these photos forever,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Malleus hums his acknowledgement; you think he knows the feeling—or some variant of it, at least. “If I lose these pictures…”
“Do you not have memories?”
“I do, but it isn’t the same. One day I’ll grow old and my memory will be frail. I won’t remember nearly as much as I do now. Those memories will become ghosts and eventually I’ll—”
“You will not.” There’s a finality to the declaration—you won’t leave me; you won’t drain or die like this mobile device.
You rest your head against the window. The cool glass soothes your soul. I wonder what the others are up to right now… You place your hand upon your belly. I wonder if they’d have any good ideas for a name. I’m terrible at naming things. I can never pick something that feels right.
“I’d like to have a funeral for my phone.”
But maybe there is no right thing.
“Of course,” he agrees, perfectly serious. You will have that phone funeral, just as you will have every other request you make—however patently absurd it may seem. (Every other request except for freedom, of course.) “Materials may not have the same worth as a loved one, but the experiences they provide are just as valuable. Surely, no? Otherwise I would not feel so troubled when Roaring Drago…” Pausing to search for the placeholder, Malleus glances at your phone. “Perhaps there is no greater tragedy than existence itself.”
“It’s the most bittersweet burden,” you echo, scrolling through each picture with wistful remembrance. “But then I’d rather know the fleeting frivolity of life than endure hundreds of years of solitude. It makes me appreciate everything that much more.”
You stop at a picture of you and Malleus, a photo snapped by Lilia himself. Part of you often wonders why he chose you—why he adores you to such a degree when you, like everyone else, will inevitably perish. But therein lies the allure: That which is unobtainable is even more tempting. And because there is only one of you, a human destined to one day return to her home world, your very presence is more fleeting than a dream.
To Malleus, who has always dreamt, fond and fervent, of the unobtainable mundanity of normal life, you are a sweet, tangible blessing.
“Horns, do you think I’ll ever get another chance to have my phone at 100%?”
He softens under the nickname. It means more to him than his lofty station. “Would you like to know that joy?”
“It would be nice, yes, but then I’d just get sad when it reaches zero. I guess I should be grateful it’s stayed alive for this long. Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just forget it.”
“Nonsense. There is no such thing.” He reaches to touch your cheek, but Cotton hisses again and so he refrains. She stands on unsteady legs and climbs into your lap, perching awkwardly in spite of your rounded belly. The sight draws a deep chuckle from him. “Your feline friend is quite taken with you.”
“It’s probably because I’m warm. She likes my belly a lot.”
“As do I.”
You roll your eyes.
“Your beauty is most beguiling. There’s a certain radiance to your person. It’s very charming. Do you not agree?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere—definitely not in Cotton’s good graces.”
“I’m simply voicing a fact.”
Your hand slides down from your stomach to pat Cotton. She purrs under your touch, and a weak approximation of a smile tugs at your lips. Amidst all of this sorrow, she is a glimmer of hope. In a way, she’s like you—a stray without a place in this world, snatched from the cobbles she once wandered and confined in a cage of royal opulence. Your similarities are striking, if not immensely devastating.
“Fact or not, I don’t care if I look pretty. It means nothing to me.”
“To be impartial towards appearances… Quite a noble mindset.”
I never once thought you were scary or strange, Horns. Even now.
You look at your phone once more. 3% flickers back.
You’re just lost, and in being lost you found me. But I was also lost. I never even belonged in this world to begin with…
“I’m not going to be a good mother.”
“You can’t know that.” 
“I can’t even take care of myself.”
“I shall care for you when you find yourself unable to.”
“I’d rather you not.”
With Cotton having curled on your lap, slumbering peacefully, Malleus chances to close the gap. His broad frame leans to make up for the difference in height, and he runs cold fingers along your cheek. He brushes away the tears you weren’t even aware you were shedding.
You grip your phone in shaky hands, your shoulders hunched. There’s a piercing ache in your chest, pain stabbing all the way through to your heart. It persists when you power it off, unable to delight in pictorial reminiscence for a moment longer. Silent like death, you sob; seismic dismay shudders through you in waves. Distantly, in a forgotten corner of your brain, you suspect this may be the last time you’ll ever use your phone. The last time you’ll ever look upon the photos you’ve amassed. Photos of friends, class notes, food. Photos snapped by mistake, blurry and unfocused. Photos taken when Ace and Grim stole your phone. Precious memories are preserved within the permanence of a photo album—an album that only remains everlasting so long as you keep your phone charged.
Your final shred of the world beyond Briar Valley vanishes in a blip, leaving you with the dark void that is an empty screen. Brutal is the agony, contorting your face, and you bawl like you’ve just witnessed the end of a life.
In a way, you have. You held it in the palm of your hands, and you watched it wither. Watched the percentages drop through numbers, double digits easing into singles. Watched every week and tried to spare your beloved phone of its fate. Watched and attempted to stall the impossible—a foolish undertaking. This was inevitable; you knew this, and yet you’re still mourning.
Perhaps that is the most tragic facet of existence. From the moment one is born, they are mourning. Humans mourn losing time—of allowing it to slip through their fingers when they should have put it to better use. Humans mourn aging even though it is celebrated yearly. Humans mourn for things that are inhuman—for robots stuck in an endless cycle of some menial task while gears grow rusted and systems shut down or trapped on a distant planet, never to return home. For the fruit that falls from trees and rots, trampled and forgotten. For the endings, good and bad, of novels. For art that will never see the light of day because it has been destroyed or stolen or silenced. For the friends they meet, have met, and will meet.
You mourn because you know it’s impending, and you spend all of your life coming to terms with it, only to break down when it finally happens because the truth of the matter is that you will never be prepared no matter how much you prepare yourself. You mourn because you’re a complex human with complex emotions, surviving in a complex world with millions of intricacies, and the only way to weather misery is to mourn.
To the little life cradled in your womb, who knows not of these difficulties yet, they cannot fathom the anguish that accompanies loss. And right now that is all you can hope for—a life without loss.
But that is impossible because loss is true to everyone’s experience. It is part of existence, and existence is inescapable.
Malleus does not gather you in his arms. He will do so if you ask, and he knows you want to ask, which is precisely why he waits. But you’re stubborn and you refuse to give in to the temptation, let alone grant him the satisfaction. It doesn’t offend him.
The windowpane is spattered with rain. So, too, is your phone, spotted with tears and snot.
Briefly, you wonder if you still look beautiful to Malleus.
Even at your ugliest, he would still cherish you. Desperately, as if he might lose you.
Knowing this does not soften the gutting grief.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
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tw - overblot!malleus, obsessive behavior, delusional thoughts, i do not know what's going on in chapter seven but the dragon is hot so this is based mostly if not completely on vibes and lust.
This might have been the most lovely Malleus had ever seen you.
Not that you ever weren't lovely. He had thought, from the very moment that your paths collided, that you were one of the most exquisite human specimens he'd ever encountered, charming in your naivety, precious in your unwitting brazenness. Your encounters were few and far between, but he treasured each minute he spent in your company, held those moments aloft in his memory in way beings with lifespans like his own could rarely afford to. You were always lovely. He would loathe himself for implying that you weren't.
But, like this, you were magnificent. Posed on his throne, bedecked in patterned lace and lengths of silk, a silver tiara resting on your head - the only proper ornament for the companion of a King. Your eyes are closed, your sleep as deep and as still as that of those already in the loving embrace of Death, but he can imagine how beautifully they'd sparkle if you were awake, how happy you'd be that you've been chosen to stay closest to his side in this utopia of his creation. You would never abandon him, as Lilia proved to be so willing to. You would never betray him, never turn your back to him, never leave him cold and bleeding and so, so agonizingly alone.
He's made sure that you won't have to suffer for his company, either. He'll spend as much time as he can with you, sure, holding you in his lap and dragging his talons over your parted lips, but when he is forced to leave your side, he knows the testaments to his affection will stay with you, that the thorns winding up your arms and legs will keep you safe even when he cannot. He knows that, if you'd had time to make such a choice, you would not have shied away from his new form the way the others had, would have listened to him as he explained how he planned to correct the world that had done nothing but fallen out from beneath his feet with this newfound strength. He knows you would've continued to love him, awake or asleep, just as he continues to love you.
This is, truly, the most lovely you've ever been.
And because of Malleus, you will never have to be anything else ever again.
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