VentiqueMR

~ Neighboring princess 🌸 AU ~

For the longest time, it was only he who chased after her affection.

They had met on his coming-of-age ceremony, during which Malleus, to this woman who was equal parts as audacious as she was sweet to him, fell in love quite gracefully. (He convinced himself that him distractedly stepping on her foot while checking her out that evening was a figment of his nightmares.)

Though they were both long-lived, she was twenty years older than he was. He was quite surprised indeed to find out that she was yet unmarried. So of course, in line with the proverbial greed of his draconic race, he declared to his family of his intent to marry her.

His grandmother the Queen blessed him with permission to visit her home for weeks at a time. Though known for her strictness, she did wish for her only grandchild to be happy.

Even then, 🌸 never betrayed romantic intentions. Her tone and action conveyed that he was no more than an entertaining friend. That was, until she started loitering at his home– at seemingly random times, at seemingly random durations.

It was quite obvious that she had him wrapped around her little finger.

🌸: “Mister Hornton,” she surprised him with her affectionate nickname for him, “Did you know that I’ve recently started learning to speak Fey?”

He was on a brisk walk heading towards the library. He was in the middle of work.

🐉: “Is that so?”

🌸: “It is an endearing language, much different from my race’s. The tones on my tongue feel like I am singing.”

🐉: “Commendable. Learning languages is a wonderful endeavor, especially the language of your neighbors.”

🌸: “And very useful, if I ever plan to wed a Fae man.”

He managed to keep his fluster tempered in his throat. With much difficulty.

🌸: “So I was turning over my head all night which tutor would best serve my purpose. Then I thought, who would be a better conversation partner than the Prince of the Dark Fae himself?”

🐉: “I–”

He was not to dally around. He was supposed to be finishing up the plans for the Seven Nations Exhibit; the plans already due for review tomorrow, for which the deadline was already moved once due to his… romantic pursuits.

🐉: “Very well. I happen to be free at the moment.”

He could still finish it if he didn’t sleep.

🌸: “Really? Is the heir apparent of the Dark Fae always this available?”

🐉: “I… am an efficient worker.” It was physically painful to lie.

🌸: “How darling. You’re exactly like princes in romance novels. Strong, gentlemanly, considerate, and…”

🌸, she laughed knowingly: “An expert in time management.”

His time management consisted of pulling all-nighters and hibernating for days thereafter.

🐉: “Mhm. The bare minimum for someone of my status. Well then, shall we scope out a private place to practice?”

🌸: “Let us hence.”

—

Lilia didn’t think that the “princely training” he received decades ago would prove to be useful in his old age. Princess Maleanor had frequently forced him to suffer in her place as she set off for Seven-knows-where, so he had a lot of experience with royal tasks that didn’t involve directly meeting others. A sort of ghostwriter, if you would, but for temperamental princesses.

He thought he was released from such a ridiculous duty when Maleanor died and her son started growing up into a rather responsible young man, but…

🐉: “Lilia, I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

🦇: “Oh it’s fine, silly boy. This is actually quite enjoyable as I haven’t been this stressed out in a long time! … Ah, two hours before lights out… I wonder if Sebek’s finished with the samples?”

Though Malleus didn’t ask them for help, his family banded together to help him finish his work; and hopefully give him a complete night of rest.

🐉: “I always strive to be responsible with my time, however…”

🦇: “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s normal for boys your age to pursue their interests.”

🐉: “I am not exactly a normal boy.”

🦇: “Oh hush. Think of it this way: this is a job– it won’t be running off to anywhere anytime soon. But that girl you like so much? Well, she has two feet, doesn’t she?”

They both let out an exhausted laugh.

🐉: “Thank you, Lilia. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

🦇: “Less talking, more working. Though I fear you wouldn’t have much time to fool around with your lady in the next few months, given the amount of potential merchants and suppliers you have to coordinate with for this event…”

Someone entered the room. It was Silver, with a hefty binder of documents in his hand.

⚔️: “From the princess.”

🐉: “From her? What in the world is this?”

🦇, teasing: “Oh dear, a love letter? An entire binder of it? I didn’t know you were this charming.”

🐉, scanning the contents: “… It looks like I’d be able fool around some more, after all.”

It was a detailed account of everything they needed for the exhibit, an exhaustive list of potential suppliers alongside the lowest possible prices they would offer, as well as comments on the pros and cons of striking a deal with them. Also included was a secret document of what to blackmail each of them with, just in case.

⚔️: “She asked me to pass this message to you: "My humble payment for our lesson today. I’m looking forward to your next lecture, my teacher.”“

Lilia stared at it with wide eyes. Malleus was blind, after all. That woman was not "romantically uninterested” in him as he told in his stories. Hell, Lilia thought she was armed and ready to be Queen.

… But that was for him to keep to himself, and the boy to find it out on his own. Before then,

🦇: “Alright, alright, let’s finish this up quickly. Silver, come help with this part.”

They had to keep up the image that their prince was the strongest, most gentlemanly, most considerate. The best at time management, out of all the princes she has ever met.

PSA to PH users who can only see this on mobile data but can’t access Tumblr thru wifi

Our brain dead government classified Tumblr as a gambling site and blocked it. 😂 For the past week, we have been completely unable to access this app unless we’re on mobile data.

You can bypass this by changing your (Android) phone’s DNS.

Settings > connections > more connection settings > private DNS > set it to dns.google

If you can’t find it in this exact path, just search it in your settings’ search bar.

I know we’re all thirsty for fics at this point, so it would be great if y'all share this solution with your PH friends. Even better if people share this solution on other platforms. Hopefully we can save as many fanfic/fanart siblings by dragging them back to this hellhole. 🫶

Malleus’ housewarden friends as his childrens’ favorite uncles.

Among the three, Idia is 🐉’s daughter’s favorite because he sends them a lot of games. While he would always gift the two children a variety of unique toys and board games, when he finds out that the girl Malaya is a lot more chronically offline than he is, he sends them fun gear like roller blades for baby dragons instead. Malaya destroying vases upon rollerblading impact and vandalizing walls with Idia’s ✨️Unicorn Laser Gun v3.0✨️ causes her father much distress.

Leona is 🐉’s son’s favorite, much to the father’s chagrin and said uncle’s vindictive satisfaction. Leona realizes that the little boy is a lot more curious than his boisterous sister, so he likes to give him interesting reads on politics and the like. Modern politics, he emphasizes in the accompanying letter he sends, so Malakai would grow up a smartly educated, updated prince. Unlike his fossil of a father. Malleus sends back 12 pages of gratitude that Leona’s servants fearfully hands him in a hefty, bloodstained letter. (The “blood” is a spill from the cranberry juice that Malakai asked to gift him as thanks.)

Vil is nobody’s favorite uncle, because all he sends are tonics and potions and facemasks and a variety of healthy food. He always reminds the children to take care of their body and not echo their dad who stays awake at ungodly hours– just to ruin everyone’s night with his infernal gargoyle sculpting. TOK TOK TOK.

Vil is nobody’s favorite, because as he feared, the children do like staying up at up godly hours. Ruining everybody’s night with their own take at gargoyle sculpting (which look more like unusual slabs of rock than proper gargoyles, but still). But whenever the three uncles come over to visit, Uncle Vil is the only one who actually plays with the children. He acts like a proper guest at their tea party, plays the evil witch for their mini stage play, and pats them to sleep when they’re too tired to keep playing.

The three uncles would already be gone by the time the two children wake up. When their parents call the uncles so the kids could say their belated goodbyes, they would cry the loudest at Vil’s turn. He would spend some time trying to soothe them over the phone.

Vil has never really thought about having children of his own. Not now, when he’s at his peak stardom. But a troublesome pair of niece and nephew? Well…

Maybe not as troublesome as he thought.

Max pity 😂🔫 Now I can’t get OB Vil anymore because Idia emptied my stash 😂🔫

The people yearn for the Dragon D

?

Do you think King Malleus, during a meeting, would excitedly watch the time for when the clock strikes lunch time. He’d immediately declare that it’s time for a break. Before anyone could exit though, he announces that today is his treat and that they’re to eat inside the meeting room.

The kitchen staff puts down a plate for each of them. Except for him. Then when everyone’s settled, wondering why he doesn’t have food on his side of the table… with more majesty than any one person could flourish, he brings out a packed lunch.

The cutest, homeliest bento box carefully crafted with a loved one in mind.

🐉, eternally smug: “Well, let us eat.”

He just wants to show off how much his spouse loves him.

So when someone, maybe a bit drunk from all the scrumptious food laid out for them, asks why he’s eating food-gone-cold instead of the feast masterfully prepared by his chefs, his only answer is,

🐉: “Perhaps if you took better care of your spouse, you would know the answer to your own question. A pity.”

Since then, his people have learned that the correct response to their King’s random idiosyncrasiesis: “My, how darling Your Majesty’s spouse is today as well!”

Otome game Malleus would be those main love interests who’s so obviously the true ending that his appearances in the other routes genuinely feels like cheating on him. And you have to cheat on him like 10 times with 10 other guys because you have to clear everyone first before you can unlock him.

(Not twst) Literally how I feel playing through Olympia Soiree. Akaza always looks so deeply in love with Byakuya in every route like. Whenever she’s like “oh no my search for a husband isn’t going so well :( maybe i should just give up” I’m like girl. Are you blind. There’s literally a guy nearby who bends over backwards in every universe to make all your wishes come true.

The other guys are great too but seeing Akaza with his little acts of gentle kindness is just. God. I just want them to stop waiting 100 lifetimes and kiss already.

I always thought the absolute safest way for a female Yuu to survive a school full of hormonal men is to get with Malleus.

I also considered that being with any of the housewardens would give her enough power, but these guys are assholes so some would definitely try their luck maliciously; specifically to anger said housewarden. Comparatively, the fear of certain death follows Malleus anywhere. His favor would bring complete protection.

Which leads me to a dynamic I find interesting. A practical woman Yuu who targets Malleus for her own gain– because he is every convenience in one pretty package, and she’s very aware of his fondness for her. She plans to dump him the very moment she can get out of this damn school, because being with him forever means she has to become his consort. Too much of a hassle for her.

But after spending time with him… pretending to like him. She does grow to love him. Deeply. So when she finds out just how much of a bleeding heart he is and how he doesn’t realize that he’s being taken advantage of in his own country, she decides to go for it after all.

If he can’t be evil for his own sake, then she’ll be evil for him. The horns to his halo. The profanity in his psalms. And she will carve a home for them where they can fully, truly be safe. Together.

Imagine some of the more forward nobles confiding with him about his evil wife.

Noble: “My king, though I risk my head on a platter saying this, the fall of House __… Though they are certainly not the most popular, they are a longwithstanding House. For them to decline so rapidly, so suddenly– it cannot have been a coincidence that it happened after… after the consort was instated.”

🐉: “Would you stop a river from polishing stone? The night from swallowing the day?”

🐉: “You imply that I am so mindless as to not be aware of my own wife’s activities. I let her dance her tune, for what man would hope to miss gazing upon a meteor as it tears the veil of the night? Watching it arouses… a thrill, beneath my veins.”

The way his eye drifted off to gaze at the window, with a smile that betrays not an innocent fascination, rather a certain hunger…

🐉: “Though who are we to suggest this, even as a rhetoric? That House has rotted for far too long, so would you not say that this is naught but divine judgement? My adorable wife should never be faulted.”

🐉, chuckling: “She is an angel, after all.”

The nobles have now become certain that their king is, in fact, a freak.

I always thought the absolute safest way for a female Yuu to survive a school full of hormonal men is to get with Malleus.

I also considered that being with any of the housewardens would give her enough power, but these guys are assholes so some would definitely try their luck maliciously; specifically to anger said housewarden. Comparatively, the fear of certain death follows Malleus anywhere. His favor would bring complete protection.

Which leads me to a dynamic I find interesting. A practical woman Yuu who targets Malleus for her own gain– because he is every convenience in one pretty package, and she’s very aware of his fondness for her. She plans to dump him the very moment she can get out of this damn school, because being with him forever means she has to become his consort. Too much of a hassle for her.

But after spending time with him… pretending to like him. She does grow to love him. Deeply. So when she finds out just how much of a bleeding heart he is and how he doesn’t realize that he’s being taken advantage of in his own country, she decides to go for it after all.

If he can’t be evil for his own sake, then she’ll be evil for him. The horns to his halo. The profanity in his psalms. And she will carve a home for them where they can fully, truly be safe. Together.

What happens if Dragon!MalleYuu has twins… Do the babies like, get shoved together in one giant egg, or are there two eggs in the dragon belly… just clacking together everytime mama moves.

A few dragon reproduction headcanons (a bit clinical but still smutty at places):

⚠️ Pregnancy♀️ warning. Take note that they’re in dragon form throughout this.

• The babymaking is interesting. Once the couple decides they want to conceive, they go into a frenzy– their breeding instincts seemingly possessing their body and mind. They mate fervidly during the night, but grow lethargic enough during the day to ensure that their bodies remain primed for reproduction.
• Their hunger is severely dampened during this time. They can go days on end without food. For the royalty’s case though, the people who care about them would make sure they are properly nourished before rest, because a dragon’s body will eat through all their stored fat– from their belly to their limbs to their tail, just to maintain the frenzy.
• The male dragon is extremely protective during a mating season though, so approaching them is nearly impossible to anyone else who isn’t also a dragon. As you would guess, this means Malleus’ assigned server is his dearest grandmother. Which would be an awkward and embarrassing look, if not for the fact that Maleficia always did wear a disinterested look about her even as her grandson glared and snarled at her everytime she even opened that door.
• This can go on endlessly, only waning when the couple is absolutely certain that the conception is successful. It usually takes weeks, or even months as dragons are not exactly the most fertile– a biological consequence of their unimaginably long lives.
• After the mating, Malleus would be ashamed of how he acted towards his grandmother. He would spend the next month avoiding her.
• In the first few months, the female wouldn’t feel much discomfort while the egg develops in her womb. The gestation takes about a year. Then the egg becomes too big for her belly so she has no choice but to spend the last few months in her dragon form.
• If they have twins, Yuu is forced to stay in her dragon form for much longer. Malleus feels incredibly guilty so he spends every after work fussing about her in his dragon form.
• Yuu feels a bit annoyed by his overreaction to every little thing (“Are you uncomfortable? I can carry you on my back. It’s dangerous to go alone.” “My darling Hornton, I’m going to the latrine. I don’t want to hear you pacing around while I’m taking a shit.”) But he’s carrying his duties both as royalty and as a husband alone, so she tries to be kind to him nevertheless.
• Spending extended amounts of time as a dragon draws out the primal in them. Human food doesn’t satisfy Yuu anymore. Malleus, being the dutiful husband he is, would spend his downtime hunting down game or fishing for belugas or taking down large birds of prey. He used to do it in fae form, but the hunt could get messy, so he opts to do it as a dragon instead.
• He watches as she rips out the heads off the birds or snaps oxen thigh into two– its bone marrow is heavenly for them– with a dreamy fascination. He thinks the way she eats is rather… arousing. (Dragon instincts; don’t judge.) He curbs the feeling though, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm his pregnant wife with his selfish desires.
• He frequently takes her out for fresh air, but not before offering to carry her on his back. She refuses everytime. She says it’d look like they’re fucking in the air and doesn’t want that kind of humiliation. He argues that it’s the farthest from sex because she’d be on top of him; a male can’t possibly bend his genitals backwards. She quips people would just gossip that he’s a bottom. He shuts up. While there’s nothing wrong about that, they don’t need their people thinking of it during a random lunch break.
• The castle has a few rooms specifically to inhabit the Draconias’ dragon forms. Unlike the couple’s usual, stately room, this den looks a bit more primal. It’s more a cave than a room. But unlike the dreary place you would expect, the place is lit warmly with a lot of trinkets lying about. Cloths that dragon Malleus hoarded from his personak collection to nest his mate, as well as books and statues and somesuch curios that he hoped would entertain his dragon wife on days when she doesn’t feel like moving much.
• Although the two eggs in her belly would usually take a toll on her (these children are ravenous), there would be days when she would be in a good mood and initiate lovemaking, much to the dragon husband’s delight. Though he’s always on edge with everything he has to do on the daily, he never forgets to be gentle with her. Her comfort is his primary objective. Terribly difficult as that is given the heightened primal instinct of his dragon form who raged to dominate.
• Just as the day ends, both of them would snuggle, satisfied.

This life is completely different from when they assume their humanoid forms, but not inferior in any way. There are no rules to follow; no appearances to live up to. Only him, her, their two greedy eggs, and their hapzardly strewn together cave for a nest.

Truly, anywhere with them together is the very definition of home.

So we all agree that he would love telling bedtime stories to his babies.

They really jam-packed Malleus with the most interesting characteristics. Likes storytelling, carves from stone, tailors, plays music, loves architecture, learns dead languages, spoils his little brothers with gifts and praises, loves his dad and granny… everything so gentle carefully packaged in a terrifying, dragon-shaped present.

*Raises his boys to be proper gentlemen*

🦇: “Rules for thee, but not for me.”

I’m so scared what do you mean 80 people pulled me up as a support I don’t even have that many friends in my roster?

~ Unwilting Flower~ 🐉🌸

It’s Valentine’s Day. Your friends are giving each other flowers just for the heck of it, because if they’re not going to celebrate it, who else would? You yourself are already committed, but real friends don’t exclude anyone. So that means you’re part of their celebration too.

And you could only guess what the exact thought process is going on in his head when your darling– your Valentine Malleus Draconia’s delightful smile turns into a deep scowl the moment he sees you carrying a bundle of assorted flora in your arms.

“Hmph. Wait for a moment.”

He disappears without your confirmation. Why, is he jealous? You shrug and thought you’d just let him simmer down on his own– you have nothing to feel guilty about. He knows your bonds with your friends are strictly platonic. If he feels jealous in any way, he could just join your merry band of flower giving, present something to everyone, and receive some himself.

… And then you arrive at your classroom for that hour… to a blossom of multicolored roses decorating your desk; as gaudy as a flower cake, with only a few inches of blank space left in the middle. As if the decorator only realized at the last second that you’re supposed to be studying and not gardening.

You can’t help but feel everyone’s gaze on you throughout the entire lecture, naturally.

But that’s not even the end of it. Random bursts of flower petals would shower on you when you enter a room. A student you don’t know the name of would present you a bouquet of various knickknacks for seemingly no reason. (You note that they’re all suspiciously wearing Diasomnia uniform.) And flowers start blooming at your feet when you accompany Grim to the field for his Spelldrive practice.

But the straw on the camel’s back is when you go back home. Right there, in the dead center of your lounge, sitting pretty and sipping tea– is the main culprit. Surrounded by what you would guess are thousands, and thousands, of roses.

Ever the pleasant look on his face, he smiles slowly at you with a clink of his teacup. “Did you like my little surprise for you?”

“Little–”

You have to remind yourself that this man has no common sense.

You refuse to sit next to him even as he discreetly pats the empty space on the couch. “Well, I appreciate it. It really made me feel the depth of your love for me–”

“The depth of my love? If you believe it so, then I must offer you more posthaste–”

“That’s, that’s exactly my reservation… I think you don’t need to be this excessive. I mean,” You gesture helplessly to the roses around you, “It’ll make me sad when all of this wilts.”

You see him surprised for a second. Does he finally understand? Did he get that the cleanup will be a huge pain? You live alone, and you’re sure as hell Grim wouldn’t be willing to help play janitor for an entire day.

“Then,” he grins at you amusedly, as if you just asked if he knew how to spell his name, “If you wish to be reminded of my devotion to you every waking day, then it’ll be child’s play for me to ensure than not a single petal wilts for as long as you live.”

No! Absolutely not!

“Hornton. I thought you’d have understood who I am at this point.” You look away from him, a bit nervous to be rejecting his efforts when he looks so earnest in trying to win your approval. “You know I’d rather spend time with you. A little bit of wine and dine, maybe? Maybe watch a cheesy movie or two.”

He pauses. Looks at you seriously. He seems to have caught on.

He stands up, and every blossom in the room– every rose petal on the carpet and every vine that carefully lined the curtains, disappears with a sparkle. Devoid of the sudden fancy, only the bare homeliness of your dorm remains.

He doesn’t walk to you, but he attracts your gaze anyway. “My apologies. I seemed to have focused on satisfying myself, rather than think of what would satisfy you.”

You smile reassuringly. “It’s alright. I know how hard you try.”

It’s you who finally approaches. You stop in front of him, then take his hands in yours. He returns the gesture by affectionately rubbing the tips of your fingers, and there you’re reminded of how much heavier he can show love through little actions like this, compared with the pomp of public exhibitions.

You entwine your fingers together.

“But why the sudden display? Were you jealous?” You ask.

He urges you to sit down with him. “Jealous?”

“That our friends gave me flowers.”

Our friends. The corners of his lips quirks up at that; in his eyes, it’s the little considerate messages that you weave in your words that makes you stand out from everyone else.

“No. In fact I’m delighted that they appreciate you. It’s just…”

“Just..?”

“… That I saw Schoenheit behind you, carrying a much larger bouquet than you were. I thought he did not deserve to be the most appreciated person in this place.”

“… And so you… tried to one-up him by doing all that for me?”

He nods.

And you laugh.

“What’s so amusing?”

He really doesn’t realize how funny he is sometimes. You cover a hand to your mouth to try and slow down the giggles. “You’re so unpredictable. I just can’t correctly guess what goes on in your head.”

“It’s you who’s unpredictable.”

“Then that’s good, isn’t it? We have an eternity to try and decipher what each other’s thinking.” Your gaze roams; settling on his tea gone cold, “Then at the end of the world… we can reveal our answers and decide who got each other most accurately.”

The crinkles on his brows slowly smoothen when he takes in your words. His hands unconsciously trail to the inside of his coat; toying with something as he wonders idly.

“… I have something for you.” He says solemnly.

You stop giggling, but the smile remains on your face. “Don’t tell me it’s another Valentine’s token. Maybe chocolate?”

He grins, but doesn’t answer you. Instead, his hands wander to your jacket; fingers expertly pinning something on the lapel. Just above your left breast.

“A gift for you, but a promise to myself as well.”

It’s a brooch. Perhaps a bit more simple in design– a tasteful black with a muted sheen of alexandrite– definitely not themed around the gaudy red of Valentine’s, but very distinctively him.

“May I always be the one closest to your heart, and though our bodies may decay before the end of time…”

You press his hands closer to your chest; determined not to let go as you finish his promise for him. For yourself.

“May this unwilting flower bear witness to the many promises we will make, and how we stayed true to all of them.”

AU where Yuu is a neighboring dragon princess who Malleus is absolutely charmed by.

🦇: “WHAT? What do you mean you asked her to marry you?!”

🐉: “Well, I could not help but be swept off my feet at the sight of her. What with her sitting in the garden I’ve taken great care to tend to, reading a book with such a beautiful smile on her face… Before I could help myself, I told her…”

🦇: “Told her what?”

🐉: “That I would be willing to resolve our kind’s population crisis with her if only she would agree to have me as her husband.”

🦇: “Malleus you’ve met her twice. What is wrong with you? I bet she slapped you in the face.”

🐉: “She did no such thing! In fact she stood in front of me– quite so elegantly, mind you,”

🦇: “And?”

🐉: “And before I knew it, her face was so close to mine,”

🦇: “That worked?! And then?”

🐉: “Lilia, she smelled like berries and lilies. Her eyes were like a crystalline bloom of–”

🦇: “My goodness, boy, I don’t need the details! Get on with it!”

🐉: “I could feel her breath on my skin,”

🦇: “And?! By the seven, what happened next?!”

🐉: “And then she started sniffing me.”

🦇: “… Sniffing?”

🐉: “And asked whether I’d been drinking.”

🦇: “…”

🐉: “…”

🦇: “HAHAHAHAHHA”

🐉: “Lilia! This is no laughing matter! I do not understand why she did not just answer with a yes or a no! What am I supposed to tell grandmother if she asks me how our courtship is going?”

🦇: “The next time you meet the princess– ow, my stomach hurts– just ask her what her favorite book is. Don’t you dare tell her again that you want to breed with her!”

🐉: “But how will I know when to announce to the kingdom that we will be marrying, if all we do is talk about our favorite books?”

🦇: “When she tells you she’d be willing to resolve your kind’s population crisis with you, of course!”

🐉: “What if she doesn’t ever say that in the next ten years or so? That is not exactly a phrase as common as ‘the weather is nice today’.”

🦇: “This boy, I swear…”

🦇: “When she starts letting you in her room and on her bed, then you’ll know she wants you, too.”

🐉: “I see…”

🐉: “Then I must ask permission to enter her room posthaste.”

🦇: “Yes… Wait. No. Boy, BOY, GET BACK HERE!”

Courtship

Happy Valentine’s Day!

🐉🌸♀️’s baby, who barely knows how to speak, suddenly runs to papa, crying.

🐉, carrying him: “What is the matter? Why are you crying?”

🍼: “Grampa Lilia… Grampa… WAAAAAH!!!”

🐉: “Did he turn your clothes blue again?”

The child shakes his head.

🐉: “Then what did he do? How can we have our revenge if you don’t tell me?”

🍼, trying to verbalize through sobs: “Grampa said Papa… Papa…”

🐉: “What about me?”

🍼: “Papa’s… Papa is Malius…”

🐉, confused: “Did he now?”

🍼: “PAPA IS PAPA! NOT MALIUS!! PAPA IS MY PAPA!!”

At the boy’s furious wailings, the father laughs. Now he understands. It’s the distress of a child who had his only knowledge of the world turned upside-down.

🐉: “I see. Well, I call you my son. Your mother calls you ‘my baby’. But does Uncle Silver call you 'son’ or 'baby’ too?”

The boy shakes his head.

🐉: “What does he call you?”

🍼: “Malakai…”

🐉: “And that is because that’s your name. Your mother and I call you 'son’ because you were born from us, and you call me papa in return. But I was not born from Lilia, so he calls me Malleus instead. That is my name.”

Malakai hiccups, trying to digest what his dad just said.

🐉: “Do you know what Mama’s name is?”

🍼: “Mama is… Mama…”

🐉: “It’s Yuu.”

The child’s brows crinkle in concentration. Then they loosen. Then he explodes into another fit of cries.

🍼: “Malakai is not Mama! Mama is Mama!!”

🐉: “No, not the pronoun. Her name is Yuu, spelled Y-U-U.”

The boy is too young. He doesn’t understand those terms.

🍼: “Why Papa say Mama is not my Mama?”

🐉: “What do you mean Mama is not– No, no. Don’t say it like that. The castle will misinterpret you and spread nasty rumors–”

🍼: “PAPA SAY MAMA IS NOT MY MAMA!!”

🐉: “Stop, stop– YOU THERE, THE GAGGLE OF MAIDS. This is the incoherent rambling of a child, understood? If I hear ANY RUMOR about our family, I have your faces memorized–”

But the boy has already slapped him in the face with his tail; hopping to the ground before making a beeline to somewhere else– likely his mom.

By the Seven, he had a lot of cleaning up to do.

He is not beating the sugar daddy allegations by giving me $100000 everyday for an entire week

Y'all he’s even offering his entire wallet now. 😭 Mf desperate for a you-shaped spouse

MalleYuu

Fantasy medieval warfare AU

A 🐉 who just got married. Like literally just earlier. He has courted his darling Yuu for a long time– too long for his patience and self-control, so he couldn’t sleep properly from looking forward not only to the wedding, but the events thereafter as well. Especially to the night where they could finally be joined together.

Until some completely random, out-of-nowhere, uninvited cataclysmic event happened while he was impatiently waiting for the dinner party to be over with. Some evil overlord or another from the neighboring planet, according to the flight messengers who kindly came crashing into his wedding. He asked them to go home and come back next week.

But he wasn’t a god, of course. So nobody really took his threats to chop up the messengers to feed to their mounts seriously. The world leaders simply said they would keep throwing fodders at him until the world was stripped of its last pegasus, then they would send griffons instead. So he was enlisted– forced, by the gods was he forced– to march to the world’s borders to weed out the invaders by the roots.

Of course he refused vehemently. I was already a demon-vanquishing hero once, you would dare pull me out of retirement for your selfish desires? He wrote to them. To which the leaders replied that their strongest hero couldn’t possibly let the world, and so was his house as a part of it, burn while his arm could still wield a weapon instead of a walking stick? How would he possibly raise a family if he had no home to raise them in?

To spite them, he wrote that he was going to remember this slight and that he would have so many children so that he could one day simultaneously bomb all their countries to the ground as a payback, but then he remembered he might get labeled as a terrorist. They would not allow him to bear even one child if that happened. So he scrapped that one and sent back a threat that he was going to shove a pike up their cushy derrieres instead.

He forgot that his dearest grandmother was also a world leader, so he stopped his missives when she wrote back that she was going to castrate him when she got his hands on him.

And so there he was, flying from country to country. Stabbing hearts and smashing heads in. When he could be smashing his spouse instead. Every morning with an empty bed was torture. Every skirmish was a minor inconvenience that he brutalized like he was performing a cremation for a mosquito.

He wanted his spouse. He wanted his Yuu. He craved to untangle their ribbons and rip up their laces and shove them against the wall and sink his teeth in their thighs and–

By the hair, he plucked the overlord’s head off its shoulders.

And the so-called cataclysm was ended. Just like that. So much for the anticipation build-up.

Two weeks. It took two weeks to finish the pest control. Granted, there were still stragglers that he decided to ignore for the sake of efficiency, but small fry were no longer his problem. His primary concern was getting the fuck back home– hopefully in under a night if he flew quickly, scrub off the uninvited bacteria on his skin, and get down to kissing his beautiful spouse. Finally.

Oh, he was definitely going to demand to stretch his one month vacation to a year-long honeymoon, at minimum.

And so he flew off without even a goodbye to his army.

Hope you’re ready, Yuu. Your year-long battle is going to be delivered at your door. Estimated time of arrival: 8 hours.

—

In a widespread infestation like this, it was not unusual not to disinfect at a 100% rate. One or two roaches escaping was still within the margin of error. And that was well enough in this case, because it was important to send back a message to the enemies:

Don’t fuck with a planet when its strongest warrior is just about to go on his honeymoon. The edging drives him insane.

Morning coffee ☕🐉🌸

“objectively physically attractive but in possession of negative rizz” is one of my favorite character concepts. i think it’s so great when there’s an absurdly hot person who’s just a complete fucking loser. the mood is unsalvageable the moment they open their mouth kind of deal. you get no bitches because you’re so sucks.

The way this fits Malleus so much and it’s not even the subjective opinion of a fan. This is literally how people think of him in-universe.

He doesn’t even need to open his mouth. People understand that he’s supposed to be very handsome, but also that everything about him is just so off-putting. Like those uncanny too-perfect paintings that give you the heebie jeebies.

And the one person who’s actually unaffected by his eldritch horror aura, Yuu (especially Yuuka lol), just thinks he’s a weirdo. Which accentuates the final point lol.

Warning: explosive rant. Good afternoon.

Nothing instantly makes my day terrible than seeing genuinely curious people ask for opinions on Twisted Wonderland and people WHO HAVEN’T PLAYED IT, describe is as the most depraved fucking gooner yaoi game in the entire history of mankind. When it’s one of the tamest game a person could possibly play. And you check the commenter’s profile and it’s a guy who plays fucking Nikke.

I hate it when straight guys use joseimuke games to demonize women’s interests or shame them. So men are allowed to eye-rape women with inflated breasts and their asses sucking the souls out of their skimpy bikinis, but god forbid women feel cute when a guy with horns and completely covered from head to toe tell her he enjoys her company?

And when it’s a fellow woman criticizing this game, it’s always “oh they twinkified Iago ew. Don’t play this shitty ass game, everyone is a generic sexualized twink. 🤢”

First of all, IAGO IS NOT IN THE FUCKING GAME. You hardly have the authority to criticize something you know jack shit about. Second, people are allowed to like slim men. Third, there’s ZERO sexualization in the game. Everyone is treated respectfully and the “skin fanservice” don’t at all look out of place nor do they look forced into it, unlike some game where every woman needs to have their armpits aired out.

Last of all, the fuck you mean GENERIC? Anyone who thinks twst’s design is generic must be the most artistically-challenged individual the world has ever popped out of its womb. You can literally tell them apart by their eyes only. What a shame to be born so deprived of sapient eyesight that a dog could inherit it instead and make more objective criticisms.

This is so random but I had a sudden epiphany that both Sebek and Silver are better off than 90% of those NRC bums because they’re literally currently in employment– complete with amazing benefits and practically no chance of layoffs for life.

Even more admirable is that they’re both technically nepo babies (Zigvolt is a war hero family and Silver is a literal prince of a fallen kingdom), but they’re working so hard on their own that their origins don’t even matter. They are the Knight of Lighting and the Knight of Dreams; not just a Zigvolt or an Istvan (Silver literally doesn’t even associate with this).

They earned their unique title with their own strength.

Sebek Zigvolt and the Troubles of Having Two Baby Dragons to Babysit

~ 🐉🌸 family setting ~

🐉🌸 having 2 small baby dragons who are only a few years apart. Dragons grow very slowly, so having an age difference of 5 years is roughly the equivalent of human siblings only being 6 months apart.

It causes Sebek no shortage of agony.

🐉: “Sebek Zigvolt.”

🐊, almost tripping on his feet rushing: “You called, my liege?”

🐉: “Is today not Malakai’s turn at the hunting grounds?”

🐊: “Yes it was, Sire! He caught 10 rabbits today. He even insisted on coming along to deliver it to Lilia’s for the Elementary School’s sports event. What a magnanimous prince he is! Though unsurprising given his parentage.”

🐉: “I see.”

🐉: “Then why is my son moping in his room, bleating about being stuck in swimming lessons for two days straight?”

🐊: !!

🐊: “I… I… But I called for Prince Malakai and he came along excitedly.”

🐉: “That was Malaya, Sebek. She is taking advantage of your confusion of them to monopolize the activities she prefers.”

Sebek crumbles on the floor dreading his embarrassing mistake. How could he, a proud Knight of Briar Valley and its steadfast supporter, not even have the ability to tell its prince and princess apart?! He deserves to be stripped of his title. HANGED.

… No, Lord Malleus does not have knights who give up easily. They learn, adapt, and use that to claim victory in the end.

🐊: “My liege… My King… At the risk of besmirching your time… Please, teach this lowly knight how to differentiate Their Highnesses apart.”

Every second of silence from the father is torture. And when he speaks, though his voice is calm, the blandness in it sends waves of terror down Sebek’s bones.

🐉: “They are male and female. One is older and another younger, as they are not twins. They have different scale patterns. They have different skull structures.”

🐉: “They do not at all look alike, Sebek.”

And that is the final blow to Sebek’s wounded confidence.

The knight trudges out of Malleus’ office, feeling like death. Like he just came back from a year-long conquest. But this is no time for depression– he needs to be able to tell the two children apart by tomorrow, even if it’s the last thing he does as a Kingsguard.

So he goes around asking people how they do it.

🌸: “Malakai and Malaya? Well, they… They look completely different… But I guess they look similar to other people, huh? The easiest is… Malaya’s belly is a little more red, and Malakai’s is a little more blue?”

Sebek is not a very enthusiastic artist. He cannot recognize the subtle difference in RGB.

🦇: “Oh they have different vibes! The twinkle in Malaya’s eyes is mischievous, while Malakai’s is gentle.”

Sebek does not think that’s a very objective, much less practical proof.

⚔️: “I’ll be honest with you. I also can’t differentiate them.”

🐊: “Silver..! My comrade-in-arms..! I mean. What I mean to say is… We are an embarrassment to our King! We do not deserve to stand by his side if we cannot even recognize his children!!”

⚔️: “We can do better, but I’m just getting by by asking them questions the other wouldn’t know about. Malaya doesn’t care for Bluey, so yesterday I asked what the name of Bluey’s dad was. She said "Father Dog” so I knew she wasn’t Malakai.“

⚔️: "But I saw both of them watching it this morning though, so I guess she’s trying to cover that weakness…”

🐊: “By the Seven! What a cunning– I mean smart princess! Quickly Silver, we must come up with a way to differentiate them by tomorrow, lest Prince Malakai suffer through his third day of swimming lessons!”

In the end, bedtime comes for them without them finalizing any battle plan. They arrive at the playroom exhausted, only to find something different.

Prince Malaki is wearing a bowtie around his neck, while Princess Malaya is wearing a ribbon on her left horn. 🌸 had decorated them with accessories after knowing that the knights were having trouble with them.

🐊: “By the Seven!! Bless the Consort! What kindness! What blessing!”

⚔️, smiling: “Well, that’s one solution we didn’t think of.”

And so their day comes to a conclusion with their spirits high.

… Until Malleus and 🌸 happen to pass by them in the great hall, just before bedtime, with a look of tiredness in their faces. Apparently they had just come down from pacifying Malakai, who was having a terrible tantrum.

Malaya had bullied her older brother into swapping ribbons with her. Just so she could avoid her swimming lessons.

The parents apologize to the knights and tell them they would personally hand the children off every morning, and that the knights were of no fault. Princess Malaya is then sentenced to an entire week with swimming lessons, with her father personally watching to make sure that she doesn’t slack off.

Despite the allure of hunting for a week, Prince Malakai opts to endure swimming lessons with his sister. Their father rejoices at the kindness in the boy’s heart. And that is very good, because no one needs to know that he did it to watch Malaya suffer from up close.

A true hater, that he is.

“Beautiful Person” Appreciation!

I’ve been getting tagged in this appreciation chain, but I thought it wouldn’t convey my gratefulness as much if I just replied thanks to each of you. Instead, here’s baby Malleus as my proxy to tell everyone how much I appreciate all of you!

Thank you so much for always sticking with me, through fanarts and headcanons and essays and shitposts and thirstpostings! I wouldn’t be enjoying my time in this fandom without all of you to celebrate everyday with.

Baby Malleus loves you and thinks you’re the prettiest person ever!

MalleYuu and the Pains and Pleasures of… Nicknames.

~ MalleYuu♀️ drabble ~

Malleus had always been a proper person. The Child of Man even commented once that he “talked like a formal letter,” and while he did not know how to feel about that, it was true that he addressed people like how he would write to them: always with their surnames, with the exception of his family.

(And the two Leech brothers. He considered calling Floyd Littler Leech, like he did with Ortho, but decided against it after seeing how the guy responded to… well, anything.)

As it was, he recently found out that he unconsciously broke this personal rule.

The Child of Man, you see, had a very adorable name. “Yuu”, as everyone lovingly called her. He had always liked just calling her Child of Man– she never did tell anyone her surname– but as their relationship grew fonder, he had thought she deserved to be called by her name. “Yuu,” in a neutral tone when they were friends. “Yuu,” with a lyrical cadence after they made it clear to each other that they were more than just friends.

And in line with what lovers did, one warm night beside the crackling hearth, she mentioned that her name was in fact Euphemia.

He started addressing her as such that evening. She looked momentarily surprised to hear her real name coming from his lips, but composed herself and continued like usual.

Her reaction concerned him and so he asked her about it; whether she was comfortable with it or not. She reassured him that she liked it because only he called her that. And that was all well and good, but since then he had a nagging feeling in his chest. Like a loose thread on your shirt that would otherwise not inconvenience you, if not for the fact that you were now aware of its existence. Calling her by her real name, as proper as it was, felt like they had taken two steps forward– only for him to deliberately retreat three steps back.

It felt distant.

He rationalized his decision in his head. They were lovers, yes, but they were not family. It was only normal for a man to call a woman, who was not his wife, by the name her parents blessed her with. It was proper. Polite.

And yet…

His family was not his family either, in the legal sense. Why should she be an exclusion?

He mulled this over as he rapped his knuckles to her door. Turned the thought over and over in his head as she opened the door for him. Attached the name to the face– Euphemia. That was her name. It was a beautiful name. As beautiful as she.

“Good evening, Hornton!” She said excitedly. Sweetly. Her tongue tasting the fondness of it, the warmth that comes from the intimacy of exclusive familiarity.

“Good evening, Eu…”

And why should he not allow himself the same blessing?

“Yuphy.”

She looked at him, eyes glittering. He felt a kaleidoscope of colors burst in his heart. Dizzying, exhilarating, beautiful.

“Yuphy?” She asked with a giggle.

Warm.

It was the first time he consciously called anyone by a nickname. The first time he made one by himself.

“Yuphy.” He confirmed as he gathered her against his chest. Snug and intimate, like the nickname he gave her. “Yuphy.”

He repeated her name again; trying to feel the way it rolled on his tongue, savoring the strange buzz that it sent to his chest. Like a tickle.

“Yuphy.” He sang, head nuzzling the crook of her neck, feeling the vibrations of her giggles.

She nuzzled back as she combed her fingers through his hair, “Should I start calling you ‘Mally’, then?”

He made a face. “That sounds like a breed of a dog. Stick with Hornton.”

She laughed, and so did he. It was not even that funny, and yet he was in such a great mood that he could spend a decade just laughing at everything they said to each other.

Names were a blessing from parent to child. Well wishes for the future. Hopes for a good life ahead.

But a nickname?

It was love wrapped in a silly gift. A blessing for the present, and every day thereafter.

- not twst -

My country is currently in an education crisis. Which makes is even more impressive that my niece, an elementary school child, is more literate than most high school students because she enjoys reading BL fanfics of her boygroup biases.

Genuinely I wish fanfic culture is more mainstream. It’s unironically a good avenue to practice literacy, explore emotional maturity, and encourage creativity when done right; all while enjoying the process. Definitely a hundred times better than watching short-form videos.

⚠️ Warning: adult humor for freaks