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#I'LL WRITE IT MYSELF IF I NEED TO
nightcrawlersimpblog · 2 months
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I JUST KNOW THAT THIS WILL BRING MORE FAN CONTENT! BRING FORTH THE FAN ART AND THE FAN FICTION!
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bluerosefox · 4 days
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There was a baby in the Batcave.
There was a baby in the Batcave.
There was a glowing, white haired, Lazarus green eyed baby floating in the freaking Batcave!
A baby that was currently wearing a superhero themed footy pajamas and making tiny circles in the air as they coo and make spit bubbles.
A baby Cass had found while on patrol... in Hong Kong before suddenly and somehow appearing in Gotham. In the Batcave.
Along with them, sitting innocently on the batcomputer chair was a baby bag (themed after Black Bat somehow) full of everything a baby needed a glowing green sticky note with purple handwriting on it.
'Cassandra Cain
Take care of our little Ghostling. Everything will make sense in due time.
P.S Daniel enjoys the stars.
-CW'
By the time Bruce finished reading the note aloud, Cass had manged to get a hold of the baby who was making happy noises and patting her cheek.
And a second later a blinding light overtook the baby and once the light was gone, the baby now had black hair and bright blue eyes.
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canisalbus · 6 months
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hello! i've written a short little machete fic, and i wanted to share it with you as thanks for all the incredible art and generous question-answering you've been doing these last few months. i hope that if you give it a look, you enjoy it. <3 keep up all your amazing work! archiveofourown [.] org / works / 50945128
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✦ A Voi ✦
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twilight-blaze · 1 year
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yes, their close platonic relationship in canon is important to me specifically because it's both close and platonic
yes, I also ship them romantically, or as part of a romantic poly ship
I refuse to lock myself into a single interpretation of a fictional relationship when there's multiple interesting ways to view it. I can do both
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carionto · 4 months
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Just. One. More. Episode.
Alien: Hmm, I haven't seen Human in a while.
Alien 2: That is worrying, you know to never leave your Human out of sight for too long. That's how you get the Ant World they tried to hide.
A: Hmm, but it's also not a good idea to pry into their privacy too much.
A2: True. What were they last doing?
A: Carrying several boxes of flavored nutrient packs into their apartment.
A2: Did they mention anything about a specific subject that had not come up much at all before?
A: Hmm, they did recommend I check out a documentary series about true crime. I did, but couldn't finish. It went into disturbing details.
A2: Oh no. Now, this is important - did they say the word marathon before you last saw them?
A: Hmm, I think so, yes.
A2: How many boxes? And how long ago since they brought them in?
A: Hmm, eight and three days ago.
A2: Your Human will appear in about thirteen days.
A: Ah, I think I understand now, but they're alone, shouldn't a standard nutrient box last about 5 days per Human?
A2: When on a regular schedule, yes, roughly. Your Human is intently watching countless hours of these documentaries and are likely unaware of their rate of consumption due to being emotionally engaged with the subject matter.
A: That is... disturbing. Should we intervene?
A2: No, it's a phase. If we take them away from their current subject of passion, it will become more entrenched, potentially. Best to let them run out of nutrients and force themselves to leave that environment. Then we can persuade them to return to normalcy, given they will be more accepting of the idea due to leaving that situation of their own will.
A: And if they are not persuadable?
A2: Then we get another Human to metaphorically "bonk" them back to their senses. Although on some Humans a literal bonking works too. It's very circumstantial.
A: Hmm...
A2: Although there is also the risk of the other Human becoming convinced to join them instead on further diving into the subject matter. There does appear to be an endless supply of these true crime shows on the Human extranet.
A: That is... not reassuring in any way.
A2: Well, that's Humans for you.
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Of Truths & Dreams; Malleus Draconia
Dreams can tell you a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.
Supporting Characters; Lilia Vanrouge & Malenoa Draconia
Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, canon divergence, hurt/comfort
Content Warnings; Chapter 7 spoilers, overblot stuff, swearing
Word Count; 5 K
Don't put my work into AI, I will hunt you for sport.
Prologue & Lilia's Story | Sebek's Story
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Malleus was born into this world alone. His mother, dead, and his father, missing. It was a miracle that he even hatched, as Draconia eggs required love to hatch. And his grandmother was ridden with grief, over losing her only child. It was no wonder why he was delayed by several centuries. And despite everything, he hatched. But despite his hatching, the love and adoration that people gave him, he was alone. Malleus didn’t feel loved, not in the way that mattered.
His subjects, his guards, his teachers, even his own grandmother loved the idea of him. And he was raised away from the outside world, within the dark halls of Briar Castle. Malleus was an idea, and the hope for the future rather than his own person. It was a lot for a child to handle. So, of course, he would sneak out when he thought no one was looking. The guards would realize rather quickly that the sole heir to Briar Valley, their most treasured royal, was missing. But Malleus didn’t care.
“Good evening,” he greeted the raven gargoyle that was at the westernmost turret of the outside wall. Malleus looked in the direction that the raven did, looking out into the moors. A dense fog had rolled in, covering everything in a white haze. “Do you ever wonder what’s out there?”
He knew that the stone wouldn’t answer him, but he asked anyways. “Grandmother tells me stories you know,” he sighed, taking a seat in one of the carved-out alcoves in the ancient stone. “That Briar Valley will one day be mine to keep. But I cannot rule without a soul match.”
Soul matches were quintessential for the Draconias, after all, it was their own ancestor the Thorn Fairy, who had gifted the fae the blessing. But Malleus had yet to find any trace of them in his dreams. Typically, members of his family were born with their soul match already in their dreams, but Malleus had yet to meet them, his dreams still being black and white, and no blurry stranger to speak of in sight. It was distressing, and he heard the whispered concerns of his grandmother when she thought he was in bed.
And those whispers played in his head. “Is there something the matter with me?” All the young prince got for an answer though was the distant cawing of ravens, and the approaching sounds of footsteps. “Did I do something wrong?”
It felt like he did something wrong. Why else would the Thorn Fairy withhold his birthright to a soul match? Why would she punish him? Had he already not been punished enough?
“So that’s where you were hiding,” the familiar voice of Lilia pulled Malleus from his thoughts. “Come now, young prince, you can’t hide away forever.” Lilia offered his hand for the young boy to take. 
Malleus looked at his outstretched hand to his face, and placed his hand in Lilia’s. “Did I upset everyone again?” His voice was quiet as the two of them walked hand and hand down the uneven steps of the turret’s staircase.
Lilia hummed, “Upset? No. Worry? A little bit.” He was used to barking out orders in the battlefield, not looking after children, let alone one so precious to the Valley. But Lilia felt that he needed to, for both his Queen, and the late princess. He had a duty to keep, an oath that he lived by; to protect the royal line.
Malleus frowned, giving the moors a final look before he and his keeper descended into the heart of the castle. “I just wanted to find them.”
“And you will,” Lilia gave the prince a practised smile, as it was still something he was getting used to. “It may just take some time is all.”
“But mother and grandmother both were born with their soul matches already in their dreams. Why is mine not with me now?” Malleus was starting to spit a bit of fire, clearly becoming upset with his own frustration. “Why must they keep me waiting?”
Lilia took a knee, and gently placed his hands on Malleus’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Good things come to those who wait. It must mean that the Thorn Fairy is taking her time in finding the best match for you.” Lilia’s eyes searched Malleus’s and he propped himself back up. “So since it is taking a while, they must be very special.”
Malleus was still upset, but that put him at ease. Good things come to those who wait. So the longer he had to wait, the better his soul match should be, and that put his turbulent mind at ease… for now.
Malleus was standing in the thick fog of the moors. And it was deathly silent, not even the crickets or the throaty calls of frogs filled in the silent din. “Another dream,” he sighed to himself. 
Of course it was a dream, which was obvious due to everything being in various shades of grey, white, and black, but also because he wasn’t allowed past the castle’s outer walls without someone else accompanying him.
“Why have you brought me here,” Malleus quietly asked the fog.
It is said that the Thorn Fairy lived in the moors, that she protected the moors. She put up an impenetrable wall of thorns, to protect her people from those who wished to destroy them. But the moors remained silent, and barren of colour or life. Malleus hummed to himself the lullaby that his grandmother sang to him while he was still a baby, and still in his egg. He has heard this song over the centuries as he lay dormant. Permanently etched into the deepest recesses of his mind. The lullaby was crafted solely for the fae to learn of soul matches.
Malleus stopped humming. He hadn’t met them yet, so it didn’t feel right to hum the original lyrics. “I’ll know you. I will walk with you once upon a dream,” he sang slowly, walking to nowhere in particular, the fog moving gently with his movements. “I’ll know you, that look in your eyes will be so a familiar a gleam.” 
He started dancing by himself, making the fog swirl around him. “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I’ll know you, I know what you’ll do.” Malleus made one large twirl, and all the emotions he had were summoned as fire, setting the dry grass of the moors ablaze, yet he was untouched as his dream was slowly being reduced to ashes.
“You’ll love me at once,” he whispered quietly, “the way you did once upon a dream.” Smoke filled the air, and where there was once light, white fog, there was now heavy, black smoke.
It was simply a dream though, nothing more. But dreams reveal truths, even if we don’t want to confront them.
Malleus had missed the entrance ceremony… again, at least Lilia was all over it, but it still rubbed Malleus in all of the wrong ways. But was it really his fault? He had never received an invitation… due to his electronics acting up again due to his own magic, so maybe it was his fault. Maybe next year! … Oh right, he would be a fourth year and not studying within the confines of Night Raven College, so in actuality, there was no next year.
At least there was a familiar face that was new to the dorm, and Sebek was overjoyed and followed Malleus dutifully. But that didn’t really change his own inner turmoil; he is next in line to be king, and yet he wasn’t able to attend something as simple as an annual recurring event? It troubled him, even as he was preparing himself for bed, adjusting his custom pillow just so.
I just wish I were invited? A proper letter. He mused in his own head, before finding himself back in the moors. It was always the moors. By this point he had traversed the entirety of it, and seen everything it had to offer, all of its little secrets. Not hard when he’s had nearly a century of time to do so.
He started humming his version of the lullaby, as he mindlessly floated along a path that he had made with his own footsteps, well trodden. Good things come to those who wait. That’s what he’s told himself, night after night. That’s what he told himself every morning when he woke up. He was getting tired of waiting. He was supposed to have been born with his soul match already in his dreams, but no one had ever appeared in Malleus’s dreams. He was always alone in the moors, with not even animals to keep him company. He was not only isolated in his waking world, the real world, but he was also isolated in his dreams.
Malleus was all alone, he had been alone for a while. Yes, he may have guards, and loyal servants, but above all else, they saw him as their next king, not Malleus; they didn’t see him for him. So maybe it was fitting that he didn’t have a soul match either. Maybe the Thorn Fairy wanted him alone.
Right as those feelings surfaced though, his dream changed. Malleus was very much still in the moors, but the silence was gone. The soft chirping of crickets filled the void. There was life, and it was all at once. The fog was still there, but Malleus could also see the faint lights of fireflies, glowing softly. This, this was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The once still moor was now gently rustling, breathing.
In front of him, the fog became dense, and a figure slowly emerged from it, looking around in a confused state. But they then turned their full attention to Malleus, and everything became saturated in violet.
Good things come to those who wait. They were here, they were finally here. Malleus was finally not alone.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. He did not know who they were, did not know of their upbringing or social status, but none of that mattered. They were his soul match, which usurped everything else. 
He watched curiously as his words floated in front of him, a harsh, neon green. His soul match did the same, watching as the words faded away.
“Uh, nice to meet you too?” Their words, your words, floated in front of Malleus, the same shade of green as his. “Who are you? Where am I?”
Malleus hummed, intrigued by their reaction. Perhaps they were not taught of soul match bonds, which would be understandable, as not all families knew of the bonds the Thorn Fairy had gifted them. “I will explain all in time, for now though, let us walk together, and enjoy this moment. Shall we?”
He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it, but right as your hands were about to meet, your form turned back into mist, leaving Malleus alone yet again in his dream. “Hmm, they must have woken up suddenly… perhaps tomorrow night then…” He murmured to himself, and continued down his footpath, watching the fireflies blink in the distance.
That was a weird ass dream, and you were kinda thankful that Grim had rudely woken you up. Kinda being the key word. And you couldn’t really get back to sleep, instead just staring up at the decaying ceiling above you, just wishing that you could go back to sleep. But what was up with the formal-speaking stranger? Why were you in some sort of swamp? Why was everything purple? And why were your words floating in front of you and a bright ass neon green? It was only your first night too… maybe this was just your brain coming up with weird scenarios to distract you from the weirdness you experience while awake? Maybe some inter-dimensional travel side effects? Like some form of jet lag that messed with your dreams? Sure, let’s pin it on that.
“Ughhhh, I hate it here,” you groaned. It would be a few hours before classes even began, so you had plenty of time for utter boredom, how fun. At least you had borrowed some books from the library, a mix of general information — since that ‘headmage’ hadn’t given you a proper welcome or a lowdown on how this world functioned — and just some interesting looking cover. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Sure, but when the book was a deep violet leather-bound book, with green metallic filigree? How could you not be curious about it? It was stunning.
“Of Truths and Dreams,” you whispered to yourself, that was the title of the book, the font in the style of calligraphy from medieval texts. How old was it? Were you actually allowed to touch it, let alone read it? It looked like it belonged in a museum.
You carefully undid the metal clasp, in the shape of a dragon’s claw. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. And you began reading.
Dreams can reveal much about a person; their wants, their fears, their memories. Dreams also hold power, and such power has been bestowed to the Draconia family. And this power comes from our ancestor, the Thorn Fairy.
You snapped the book shut. This wasn’t just a book, it was a diary. You shouldn’t be reading this… but this was a chance to learn more about this world. Learn about it from… You open up the diary again, and find the owner’s name written in the same calligraphy as the title. Maleficia Draconia. 
-
As with all fae, our family too is blessed with soul matches who enter our dreams as we sleep. Our family is different though, as we are born with them already in our minds; our dreams tinted in a colour that represents both of us. They are of utmost importance to us. Without them, we cannot rule. They may become an advisor, a confidant, and in some cases, a lover. That is for both parties to decide though, we cannot use our power or status to influence their decision, no matter how we feel about them, Malenoa. Do not let our draconic greed dictate the relationship. It surfaces as a song. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem. But if I know you, I’ll know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream. Ignore that song, my love, for that is the greed speaking, and not the truth. Ignore it at all costs, for it will stain the heart…
The rest of the diary was left blank, the edges of the paper charred. Turning it back over, you noticed that the entire back of the book was blackened, blackened by fire. And even though you didn’t know who Maleficia was, she had helped you a great lot. Whatever that dream was, that was no ordinary stranger. They were your… soul match? Yeah, whatever that meant.
Malleus found himself walking outside of his old haunting grounds, Ramshackle dorm. He was surprised to find it now occupied, but his sadness had morphed into something far more pleasant. He had gained a friend. He had gained you.
“Good evening, Child of Man,” he greeted you, taking notice of the large yawn that escaped your mouth. “More tired than usual I see. You do not need to walk with me tonight if rest is what you need.”
Malleus meant well, in his own odd and formal way. “Eh, it’s nothing, Tsunotarou. I’ll get some shut eye in a bit,” you waved off his concern, and shot him a small smile.
He gave you back a tiny smile, remembering the last time that he gave someone a full smile, they were left scared, not happy. He didn’t want to scare you off. That’s why he let you decide on a nickname for him, that but also names hold power… but he trusted you, he just didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want your friendship to change just because you found out he was the Malleus Draconia, but he also knew that you wouldn’t really care. You didn’t seem like the type to treat him any differently just because of his title. He didn’t want to risk it though.
So the two of you walked around the outskirts of Ramshackle, fireflies lighting the way. Something about them felt familiar though, and it wasn’t from just your nightly walks with your horned friend. You could have sworn you saw them in a dream… now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to enjoy what time you could get with your friend.
“Hey, Tsunotarou,” you asked him, turning a bit so you faced him. “Do you have a soul match?”
Malleus’s pupils dilated outwards, becoming more rounded rather than harsh slits. “Yes I do, Child of Man. I am rather surprised that you know of the subject,” he breathed out. You really were full of surprises, weren’t you?
Surprised? “How so?”
Malleus hummed to himself, a melody that sounded familiar, but it evaded you. “The bonds of soul matches of fae are only known by fae, which is why I was caught by surprise of you knowing of the term. That is all.” Do you have one, Child of Man? But why does the thought make my tongue go bitter?
“Found it in a book in the library,” you mused. You mentally kicked yourself, you could have given it to him, he may know the family of the previous owner. Maybe you could go hunting for it the next time you found yourself in the cramped halls of the library. A rather large yawn escaped from you, and that was your, and Malleus’s, queue that it was time for you to head off to the land of dreams. “Any who, night, Tsunotarou! Sweet dreams!” You waved him goodbye as he vanished into a puff of fireflies, off into the night.
And they were both asleep again, but something felt off. Like there was something dark tainting the dream. It was a familiar sensation, one that made the hairs on your neck stand on end; blot. There was blot in the dream.
“Are you alright,” you asked your soul match, carefully watching their reaction.
They hummed, and turned to look at you curiously, green eyes practically glowing in the dark violet lighting, pupils relaxing from their tight slits into more relaxed ovals. “I am alright, just thinking is all,” their words floated in front of them, still the neon green they were in the beginning.
But the alarm bells were screaming in your head. Screaming at you that everything was definitely not alright. This, this was being calculated, being considered. “You just seem preoccupied… like your mind is elsewhere is all.”
They tilted their head, “I am right here with you.” Their words were blunt, as they typically were. “However,” the lighting darkened, being tainted with more hints of blot, “are you planning on going anywhere?” Are you planning on leaving me, like everyone else?
The words hang heavily in the air. It was no use lying to them, as it would only worsen the situation to lie. “Eventually I have to… I have to go back,” you said carefully, gauging their reaction.
Malleus’s pupils turned into slits again, but he remained calm on the outside. “Go back to what? Do you not like it here?” Do you not like me?
You looked around the bog, “That’s not the case. I have responsibilities back home. I need to go back. I’m …” Sorry. But the word didn’t come out of your mouth. What did you have to apologise for? It was not your fault that you came here, but why did it feel like it?
“I too have responsibilities,” Malleus said quietly, words barely visible. “You cannot go back.” All of the pleasantries were gone, this was a command. “You are staying here with me.”
The blot thickened. Could someone overblot in their dreams? And they started singing, and it was the tune that they’ve been humming since their first shared dream.
“I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam,” they cupped your face, looking softly into your eyes. “And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…” The violet lighting of the dream had turned almost black, the only lighting being the neon green words dancing around you. “You’ll love me at once, they way you did once-”
You shot up awake, heart beating so fast that you could feel and hear it. You didn’t need your soul match to finish the lyric, for you knew it already… for you had read it in that fire-charred diary. “… upon a dream,” you breathed out.
Your soul match is Malleus Draconia, Tsunotarou, and this was bad. The greed had taken over… alongside the blot. 
Malleus looked over the forms of his sleeping classmates, singing the lullaby again. He could see everybody’s dreams, except for yours, and it was equally as annoying as it was endearing. Of course his Child of Man would be filled with surprises. Malleus only wished that his soul match was here, for he wished to see their deepest desires, to see how they would be the hero of their own tale. But when he closed his eyes, and tried to teleport to their dreams, he saw nothing. It distressed him too, he knew they were asleep, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Where are you,” he chuckled darkly, a mix of anger but also fear. He should be able to see them, but he saw nothing, nothing except for the moors now engulfed in ink. Devoid of colour and life. 
Soul match bonds cannot break, at least not easily. Either they were no longer of this world — which they were not, Malleus could sense that much — or they were underneath a sleeping spell, a Draconia’s sleeping spell.
It meant that they were on the island. They have been so close this entire time. “Now, wherever could you be hiding,” Malleus sighed, looking into every single person’s dreams, looking for his soul match. Their dream should be tinted violet, singling them out to him. And as Malleus hopped from dream to dream, not once did he find the familiar colour. But they were here… he just couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see their dreams.
That left one option. There was only one person who he couldn’t see the dreams of. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you,” he floated over to your sleeping form, coming to sit next to you with a fond look in his eyes, “my dear Child of Man.” And he started humming that song of his, trying to pry into your mind, trying to get back into your dreams, where he could keep a diligent eye on you. “Looks like we have indeed met once upon a dream… that must be why your eyes are so familiar a gleam.”
“Yeah, this, this is beyond bad,” you muttered to yourself. You were back in the swamp, up to your chest in thick ink. The once pleasant dream was now, effectively, a trap; a giant glue trap if you will. 
A boom of thunder overhead underscored your statement and brilliant flashes of bright purple and green lightning provided the only light for you, everything else was shrouded in darkness caused by the blot. Caused by Malleus. But why, why did he overblot?
“They found a way for me to go back home.” Oh. You're leaving, and add onto that, Lilia coming out from nowhere and saying that he was also leaving because his magic had dried out… That’s why.
“TSUNOTAROU!” You yelled out into the swamp, but all you got as an answer was your own voice causing ripples in the ink. “TSUNOTAROU?!” You tried again. Nothing.
Names hold power, Child of Man, do remember that. You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself for when he manifested himself here. “MALLEUS DRACONIA?!”
A bolt of lightning hit a few metres in front of you, morphing into bright green fire, and then Malleus was standing in front of you, or rather, a part of him. “You called?”  He glided easily over the ink, and looked down at you, assessing you.
“What have you done, Malleus,” you refused to tilt your head upwards, instead looking up with your eyes, head remaining level.
Malleus knelt down in front of you, despite him being vastly stronger and of higher status, he still viewed you as his equal. “I did what needed to be done.” He said it so matter of factly, like it made perfect sense. “Now everyone will be happy.”
“You can’t force people to be happy,” you said back, looking into his eyes, searching for the Malleus you knew, searching for your friend. “That’s not for you to decide, Malleus.” 
Malleus just hummed at your comment, and he tried to change your dream to something more pleasant, but you remained stuck in the ink. Why can I not change it? I should be able to change it. “They deserve to be happy… You deserve to be happy. Do you not?”
I mean, yeah it would be nice, but I would rather it be because of something other than an overblot, but ya know how it is. “Yes, but not like this… Let me help you, Malleus.”
“I do not need help,” he hissed, tilting your chin up. “Let me make you happy.” 
The ink rose, and it was now up to your neck, and you were floating in it. You spared a quick glance down and saw a gentle lilac light shining down from the bottom. This may just be a crazy idea, but it was one worth taking.
You looked back into Malleus’s eyes. “Do you promise?”
Malleus smiled at you, “Of course I do.”
You grabbed him by the arm and pulled the both of you under the surface of the ink, making your eye towards the lilac light.
You crawled out of the ink and found yourself, and Malleus, on the outside walls of a grand castle, roses vining their way up the facade in full bloom. Everything was in a gentle lilac light, and fireflies glowed green despite it being daytime. It was idyllic, it was peaceful, the only thing out of place being the blot that dripped off Malleus. Yet it was contained to him, disappearing into a gentle puff of green sparkles when it hit the ground.
“How,” Malleus whispered, his words now a light green, no longer a harsh neon. “How are we here?”
You didn’t know, all you did was follow the light from the bottom of the inky depths. “Do you know this place?” You had no idea where you were, but you weren’t complaining, since you were no longer up to your neck in blot.
Malleus looked up, and there was the familiar raven gargoyle from his childhood. “This is my home,” he turned to look at you curiously. “How did you bring us here, Child of Man?”
“They didn’t,” a velvety voice said. And coming down the stairs was a woman, who looked like Malleus except older, looking like she was probably in her thirties. “I did, my love.”
She gracefully walked over, and cupped his face, looking over his features. And you could have sworn that you saw her absorb some of the blot. “You have grown into a fine young man. But you have let greed overshadow you.”
Malleus looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was frozen in place. “Mother?” His voice was quiet, barely even coming out. “But how?”
The woman, Malleus’s mother, hummed gently, combing her fingers through her son’s hair, slowly absorbing the blot from him. “You can thank them,” she turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile, “all thanks to your soul match.”
She turned back to her son, her face shifting into a more solemn expression. “My love, let me bestow a gift on you… but you won’t see me again. This is the last thing I can do for you. Let me do this though; for you and everyone you love.”
You can’t force people to be happy. 
Keep everyone you love close to you, guard them, hoard them.
You’re my friend, I’ll always be with you, even if we’re far apart!
You’ll love me at once-
This was wrong, and Malleus choked on his own blot. The greed, the dark parts of the dragon had won. “Please,” he coughed. 
His mother embraced him into a hug, “Spinning wheel of fate, undo this thread of darkness. As Queen of Briar, I shall bestow upon you this gift.” She placed a kiss on his forehead, and all of the blot was gone. “I love you,” she whispered, before her form vanished gently into green and lilac sparkles.
“I’m sorry,” the words floated over to you. Malleus looked tired, exhausted. How much magic had the blot taken from him? He opened his mouth again, but closed it, at a loss for words. “And I understand if… if you want nothing to do with me.”
From your times dealing with overblot, you knew this wasn’t his fault. Overblots are due to trauma, from bottling it all up until someone broke. “Why would I not want anything to do with you? I’m still friends with the others.”
Malleus looked into your eyes, but all he found was honesty… and love, love for a friend. A genuine love. 
You extended your hand, “So come on, Tsunotarou. Let’s move forward together.”
And he took your hand. The path forward was sure to be bumpy, but he knew that you would stick by his side, even after this.
Fin!
Author's Note; And this concludes the Soul Match AU! I know in my poll people voted for a fluffy ending, but uhhh, I was possessed by a vision. I might continue this AU for other characters in the future, but for now this is where I've leave it. Thank you for reading!
Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @krenenbaker
If you like my work, please check out my masterlist [there are 9 other Soul Match works btw]
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b4kuch1n · 3 months
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digital ink comm round 2 done! for @trucbiduleschouettes, Alis, Sygdom, A. MG, @bakugames , F. Thorell, and Grumo.
With this round I've gotten to a decent place buffer-wise and with lunar new year prep, thank you very much to everyone who's commissioned me so far! I want to figure out something for the global strike however, so I won't be reopening digital ink comms until after this week. please stay tuned for that!
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melverie · 6 months
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Okay, but you guys do realize that the reason Mephisto behaves the way he does is because he has been raised with the intent of only being beneficial to the future demon king and nothing else, right?
(Buckle up because this is going to be a loooonnngggg post)
Mephisto comes from a family that has been serving the royal family for ages. He mentions multiple times that his family has always acted as their knights, their advisors and their protectors to them, and it won't be any different with him. It shouldn't be any different with him. Being beneficial to Diavolo has literally been decided to be the very meaning of his life even before he was born. He's been forced into the role and he's following it to a T because he's never known anything else, and because he can't afford to lose that. Without it, what else is left of him? What worth does he hold other than being essentially a tool for Diavolo?
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And then the brothers fall and suddenly his position is at risk. Lucifer and Diavolo have already gotten along fairly well back when Lucifer was still an angel. Both Diavolo and Lucifer (as well as several others) mention that they go way back in their Nightbringer homescreen dialogues, and we see them having mutual respect by the end of the 'The Glory Days' Devilgram in the original game. Mephisto and Diavolo meanwhile might be childhood friends, but here's the thing
Diavolo wants a friend. A real friend. Someone that genuinely appreciates him for who he is as a person instead of focusing on his status as the future demon king. And that's something Lucifer can give him. They often hang out for the sake of it (apparently even eating dinner at Ristorante Six together regularly), they regularly engage in lighthearted banter, and Lucifer isn't afraid to give Diavolo his honest opinion
But that's not really the case with Mephisto...? He was never meant to be on equal footing with Diavolo; Diavolo even calls him "mini-Barbatos" at one point. He is literally still calling him 'Lord Diavolo' all the time, requests to speak his honest opinion first and waits for Diavolo to allow him to do so before actually giving it. That's why Mephisto keeps pushing down his own feelings and keeps showering Diavolo in praise any opportunity he gets while he adjusts every aspect of life to be beneficial to Diavolo in a way. Sure, he might be popular, but as long as Diavolo doesn't want him to get married he doesn't even waste a thought about relationships. He might have no real interest in journalism, but of course he'll take over RAD's Newspaper Club. After all, Diavolo asked him to! He's part of the House of Lords because as the future king's right-hand man that just makes sense. He was always just meant to be a tool for the crown prince to use, so he doesn't know how to treat Diavolo as anything but. He was literally groomed to be dispensable, so he's obviously going to act like it
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And that's also where Mephisto's dislike for Lucifer stems from—he can only watch as Lucifer slowly grows closer and closer to Diavolo, and threatens to take the role that was always made up to be his. And so Mephisto keeps challenging Lucifer over and over again, trying to sabotage their friendship any way he can in hopes of winning back his position as the crown prince's right-hand man
That obviously doesn't make the way he treats Lucifer (and the rest of the brothers!) right. Lucifer isn't responsible for any of this, and blaming him for it is misguided. But it still doesn't change the fact that Mephisto has the right to be hurt at the situation at hand. His entire purpose of existence is just being ripped away from him right before his eyes and all he can do is watch. That must hurt. Especially when your entire familiy's purpose has been to serve the royal family, and you are the first one to lose that
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Also, I feel like something else we need to talk about is how his fight only ever really seems to be with the brothers, especially Lucifer? Again, part of the reason is the entire Diavolo situation, sure, but I feel like it also has to do with the situation in the Devildom at large? I already vaguely talked about this in a different context a few months back, but ever since the brothers have been cast out of the Celestial Realm and arrived in the Devildom, the entire situation has just been super unstable. We as a player have a unique perspective on the events because we only have a limited outsider view to on the actual politics going on the the Devildom, while also being aware how things will play out in the future. We know that ultimately letting the brothers stay is the right choice, but that's not the way a regular denizen who has to live through all this sees it. I mean, just the way Mephisto describes the brothers really puts things into perspective:
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The entire realm is super destabilized, they just semi-lost their current king, and there have been multiple very real threats of war—first when the Devildom took the brothers in in the first place, then when "Raphael" showed up and told the brothers to return, and Lucifer rightfully points out to (a comatose) MC that they are bound to go to war should the Celestial Realm ever find out that Diavolo turned Lilith into a human. There's just a lot of tension in the air, and the brothers—extremly powerful as both angels and demons—seem to be at the root of most of it in one way or another. From a the House of Lords' perspective, it makes sense to want the brothers gone, same goes for a denizens perspective. And while it is a delicate situation all around that can't just be blamed on the brothers, it makes sense for Mephisto to also see them at the center of it all. Again, that doesn't make the brothers' treatment right, but it's at least understandable given the circumstances
On a side note, when discussing his beliefs, I think it's also important to remember that he to this day is incredibly sheltered. He just accepts all this as normal because to him it is normal, but as we've seen in lesson 31 hard mode Thirteen was so shocked by his views that she immediately decided to drop everything and play therapist for him (absolute Queen for not just blaming it on him btw 💖). I know this was just a throw-away line, but this paired with him basically excisting to serve Diavolo already says so much about his character:
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And with everyone else he seems to be generally pleasent? I mean, he says he doesn't want anything to do with angels or humans, and yet he risks getting injured in order to save Luke from falling. Yet he actively seeks out MC to solve one of the 666 Mysteries of RAD together with them, and saves them from tumbling on the floor because "anyone else would have done the same" (they wouldn't have. The season 1 brothers would have laughed straight in MC's face). He literally complained to Thirteen about how he was just about to go home and how he doesn't have time for her, yet diligently carries all her things for her as rain is pouring down on him. His actions always end up betraying his words
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Also he has a massive sweet tooth which alings perfectly with one of the headcanons I had for months and is RAD's local horse girl so we stan! <3
-> more character & relationship analyses -> masterlist
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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Not to be too filthy but the thought of dbf!bucky warning you that he's not going to pull out?? 🤤
I've been thinking about this a lot today and I really like imagining the way he'd position you however he wants you. He doesn't tell you what he wants you to do, he just guides you instead.
Because I love the thought of him pressing gently on your shoulders while he's kissing you, urging you to sink to your knees for him. You take the hint, opening your mouth while watching him undo his belt but he swears he might lose it when you press your tongue over your bottom lip.
"Good girl." He tries not to sound too breathless when he presses his slick tip to your lips, letting you taste his precum, smearing it over your waiting tongue. It's not long before you're eagerly taking all of him, sucking and licking and enjoying the weight of him in your mouth. You feel the tip press to the back of your throat and you do your very best to remember to breathe, trying to ignore your own growing arousal.
The hand on the back of your head keeps you in place while he thrusts in and out of your mouth and it's nice to just let him take for a little while. When you need to, you can press back against his hand and give yourself a break but the praise he showers you with makes it's hard to focus on anything other than the throbbing between your own legs.
"Fuck, look at you." He groans, applying a little more pressure to the back of your head and you try to stifle your gag reflex when he nudges the back of your throat once more. "Such a perfect mouth. Feels like you were made for this, weren't you, baby? You take me like such a good girl."
God, you want to agree. Something about being his good girl leaves your panties soaked and your body desperate. He treats you right. He cares about more than just your pleasure; he cares about how you're feeling, inside and outside of the bedroom. He's good to you and that simple fact makes the sex even better.
Before too long, he's pulled back from your mouth and he's holding your chin gently, encouraging you to stand up again before he presses you back onto the bed.
You whimper quietly at the feeling of his thick fingers grazing the little soaked lace panties you're wearing before he takes them off and lets them drop to the floor.
"Please." You gasp, letting your fingers drift over your soaked sex with an urgency that surprises your partner. Bucky watches as two of your own fingers slip into your cunt before you trail them up to circle your clit. He doesn't miss how they glisten, coated in evidence of your overwhelming arousal.
Relief floods you when you feel him press his tip to your entrance, letting him sink slowly into you. Nothing compares to the feeling of that first glide into your body. It's intimate but it's downright filthy at the same time.
"Best fucking girl for me." Bucky groans the words between kisses to your neck, slowly pulling out before pressing back where he belongs.
You can only whimper, fingernails digging into his back, forever urging him to fuck you harder.
"I hope you know I'm not pulling out tonight." The words make your cunt flutter with excitement and you almost wonder if he can feel it. "Feels too good. I'm going to stuff this pretty pussy full." He cradles your face in one hand, his eyes locked on yours and you're acutely aware that there's nothing you want to feel more than the gush of his cum into your body.
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cryptiduni · 10 months
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“white mourning.”
#‘‘A white mourning. A modern death. Divorce or something similar. All you can do is put more distance between you & him. make him smaller.’’#jean is a very easy character to hate if you know nothing about him. & you know what they say. easy target doesn’t make for a good practice#judit literally compares harry to intellectually disabled man yet you don’t see ppl hating her because she is outwardly nice.#she’s polite yes but she doesn’t care as much as jean cares for harry#he is not perfect. he is mean. but loyal. if he truly didn't care he wouldn't hab come back to martinaise & coulda just reported harry’s as#he put up with du bois’ bullshit for years and built a toxic (totally straight) relationship with him yet always comes back.#he says he will leave you in the village to die but please understand harry isn't exactly a great person. especially pre-bender hdb.#planned a make up joke & put on a wig for hdb even tho he wasn’t the who started the whole fiasco#you can hate him all you want for leaving harry before & during tribunal but how could he have foreseen all this bullshit would have happen#his second leaving is kinda bullshit writing but#jv is dealing with his own demons too. clinical depression. partner almost died. job is shit. case spiraling out control#i do not blame the DE staff either. sometimes shit just happens. not everything needs a grand explanation.#but it definitely coulda been handled better. but i understand. resources were sparse.#i relate to ​jv. as someone with temper issues & attention problems i have to remove myself from the scene or i'll say shit i'd regret late#my man is having the worst week of his life. leave him alone.#kim is great but have u heard of a man who thinks he's old when he is only 30 & luvs horses & his commie boyfriend that he's divorcin' soon#disco elysium#de fanart#jean vicquemare#disco elysium fanart#jean heron vicquemare#jean posting#illustration#de#artists on tumblr#my art#I WANTED TO DRAW THIS FOR MONTHSSS YOU COULDN'T IMAGINE. HE LITERALLY HAUNTED ME IN MY SLEEP!!!#i love him normal amount. very healthy. much feelings#my little maiu maiu
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itty-bitty-sunshine · 10 months
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Did a quick doodle to cope with the fact that my cousin's cat screwed up a hand-made gift I was almost done with, so have some hurt comfort with sun and yn ig
I might take a time to make a proper yn design later
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welcometothewoes · 10 months
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The image of A lying down with their head on B's chest, listening to their heartbeat while dozing off and basking in the warmth B emits gets me through the workday agh it's so good and tender
Especially if B puts their hand on A's back and slowly caresses them, or maybe plays with their hair, and all their problems melt away for a few hours because it's just the two of them in the whole wide world
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valiantroeagleangel · 2 months
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Everyone hear me out. JOLLY AS DRACULA FROM CASTLEVANIA. You cannot say no to me.
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the doctor isnt neurodivergent or autistic or adhd or nonbinary or genderqueer or asexual. what the doctor is, is Not From Here
#which necessarily of course says something abt their (non)whiteness#(i had all these words in quotation marks first so mentally add those to whiteness too)#but we've them be black for all of 1.5 episode now so#lets see how that develops you know#also i dont think i understand the politics of that part well enough to say much abt it#not that i probably understand the politics of these parts better but#im annoyed enough abt this Thing happening these years. in these 20s i guess. the 'representation' thing#to complain abt it anyway#the dsm isnt real and it isnt gonna fuck you buddy#maybe i'll read some books and then one day i'll write an essay driven by spite and pettiness#i wonder if i can make the thesis statement about the tension between their status of main character#in a 60 year running family adventure show vs this therapy thing we're doing now#like. you cant do that. in terms of like. what story is and does. what a character is and does. it strains#in an interesting way. like im not saying they Shouldnt have done it. im just observing. that you cant do that really. i think#or maybe you can! but i'll find that out#i also dont know shit abt narratology or whatever so. need to read books first. sigh#always have to pause my thoughts to read myself in first its so annoying. esp bc i rarely really do#bc then new thoughts new things to do you cant do EVERYTHING. you can do almost nothing. bane of my existence really#but like you might even be able to say smth interesting here about whether you can call them traumatised at all#remember that article i saw around on tumblr a few years ago i think that was abt like. some scholar in the middle east maybe#saying that ptsd is a western thing bc it necessitates a Post#all of this is western. psychiatry is western. its all stories. how you conceptualise trauma is a story#whos Other is story#where youre from is a story what you stand for is a story who you are is a story#ah. checked the article. dr samah jabr. palestinian. i'll start with her book maybe
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pu-ri-el · 1 year
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A lesson in practicality draft designs!
(Planning to post individual one's in the future~)
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Some inspiration from @robinsdraw own designs, but I tried basing it off this post on @residentanchor :DD
Bonus logicality kiss:
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A Day for Silly Love Songs
I have no idea what posessed me to write this at 2AM, I blame the Wings and youtube for recommending me love songs. Anyways enjoy this valentine's day Jamil x gn!reader I made in a rush. As always, if you notice any mistakes no you didn't
The Prefect always thought Valentine’s Day was just a commercial thing back home, a holiday made to sell specials, food and perfumes at a “discounted” price. They were more of the idea that love, be it for friends or family or lovers, should be expressed all year instead of just this one particular day.
Still they couldn’t help but miss the gaudy decorations of red, pink and white that often took over the world during this time of year, the silly love songs that people loved to dedicate each other and the loving messages friends left in the chats.
The Prefect also knew Valentine’s Day wasn’t a thing in Twisted Wonderland. It became obvious when February came and no heart-shaped decorations nor red, pink and white ornaments filled the campus nor the internet pages Cater and Idia were so keen on showing them.
No trends related to love or friendship, no complaining about loneliness or happy couples, nothing to show liking or disliking this particular date.
So, naturally, they didn’t take it personally when the freshmen received their gifts on the 14th wondering why the sudden affection. The Prefect didn’t explain, simply giving a 'I just felt like giving you all a little something for being such good friends'. After all, the whole history behind Valentine’s was complex and frankly quite separated from how it was celebrated in modern times and they didn't have the time nor the energy to explain why such a holiday was of any importance. All they cared about was giving their friends a little token of their appreciation.
Some of the upperclassmen also were confused. Ruggie and the Octavinelle trio in particular seemed intrigued but cautious about needing to return the favor. But they all smiled upon learning the gifts were just that, gifts. Ruggie in particular was very happy about receiving free food, no matter how small the bag of cookies was.
Malleus meanwhile was ecstatic to get a present from his friend. The wooden charm, painted a beautiful purple, was elegant in its simplicity and the fae was more than glad to attach the little charm on his magical pen. 
So on and so forth, the Prefect gave everybody a little trinket to show them their love. Even the more reclusive Idia got a little something.
However, there was one person who was yet to receive anything from the Prefect. And he had surely noticed by now.
Jamil Viper was stretching along with the rest of the basketball club, preparing for the training ahead, but he was having a hard time focusing with Ace and Floyd talking nearby.
‘Heee so Shrimpy gave you candy too? No fair! I thought my gift was special!’ 
‘Hey don’t look at me like that! You’re seriously freaking me out-’ Ace was interrupted by Floyd suddenly standing up and approaching him with a menacing aura, to which he responded with darting out of his reach and into the court. Floyd chased him, laughing all the way, and soon the rest of the club was shouting at them both to encourage the race, hoping to either see Ace outrun Floyd or be caught by him. 
Jamil was honestly done. He could feel a headache forming from the stress as well as he could feel the frustration of hearing around campus how everybody was getting a gift from the Prefect. That’s it, everybody but him.
Was it something he said? He knows he’s been busy lately what with helping the Scarabia students get back to studying and settling back in the dorm after the holidays, and also the whole ‘Crewel wants to make sure you all have the basics down pat, so we’ll be having weekly tests until March’ but he didn’t think he’d been neglecting you so much. He still went over to the cafeteria on a semi-regular basis to give you the “leftovers” -food he totally cooked specifically for you to enjoy- he had. He still made some time on his schedule to teach you and Grim a little bit of History or Alchemy or Ancient Curses because he knew how much you struggled with it. Merciful Sands, he even made his best effort to walk a certain route, different from his original one, to and from class everyday just so he could make sure to say hi to you every day.
As Floyd, Ace and some of the other guys started playing something completely unrelated to basketball, Jamil decided he had better things to do than stay here and do nothing. So he promptly grabbed his things and left without a word.
He walked fast and tense, with a determination and purpose that made most students move out of the way immediately. He reached the Scarabia kitchen in record time, and put on his apron to begin gathering ingredients.
Oh so you want to give people food? But not him? The rational part of his brain told him the Prefect had either forgotten or given his gift to Kalim to pass it later, but the emotional side wanted to remind the Prefect of their bond. He was the guy they kept messaging in the middle of the night with the pretext of not being able to sleep. He was the guy they kept calling first thing in the morning to make sure he’d slept well and have a nice breakfast before class. He was the guy who returned all that affection tenfold with little details that he both hope you would and wouldn’t notice because he loves you but he has so much trouble admitting his feelings.
So now, he’s preparing you a dessert. He knows it's your favorite, and while he would have liked to make this with more time over the weekend, make it really tasty and beautiful and surprise you with it on Ramshackle, maybe even have a date while you shared the food right now he needed to remind you just how much better he was than the rest of the students at this school, and how well he understood you. 
Kalim was just getting back from his own club activities when Jamil was preparing to leave. ‘Ohhh what’s that? It smells soooo good!’ The shine on his eyes denoted how eager he was to try the dessert, but Jamil had no time to lose, he was on a mission ‘I have to hand this to someone, but there’s some leftovers from lunch if you get hungry’ and just like that he was gone. Kalim didn’t even have time to ask who it was for or where exactly the leftovers were.
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The Prefect sat in the Ramshackle living room, staring at the one gift they had been unable to give. Grim had fallen asleep from a food-induced coma, so he couldn’t bear witness to the defeat and shame on the Prefect’s face.
‘Ugh why can’t I do something so simple? It’s just a box of chocolates, why do I have to make such a huge deal out of it? I already gave everyone else things, and nobody thought anything weird’ sighing, the Prefect dropped their weight back onto the couch and laid there for a few seconds, thinking.
The heart shaped box, which they had to make by hand as Twisted Wonderland didn’t have such decorations, looked surprisingly good despite being carried dragged around campus all day. In fact, the Prefect was pretty certain that if they looked inside, the assorted chocolates of the various flavors they could remember from back home would also be intact. So why was the box still here instead of with its intended owner? 
As much as the Prefect hated to admit it, it was because they knew this gift was different from the others. All of the others were just little trinkets, with much love and some money put into them but barely the same time, effort and dedication that this one had required. And all because the Prefect had somewhat hoped to find Jamil alone at some point and confess their feelings with this gift. But as they walked around campus, the nerves and fear of rejection got the better of them.
After all, Jamil often joked about how troublesome the students here were, or how he was always worrying about his juniors and doing things to help them out (even if it they hadn’t asked for help), or how stressed he was lately with all the tutoring lessons or helping students recover their usual sleep schedules. The Prefect could tell it was all getting to him,  to the point his replies to their usual texting and calling had shortened to a few one or two-word answers. 
No, right now wasn’t the right time to confess. Jamil had enough on his plate, the last thing he needed was to consider someone else’s feelings and stress about rejecting or dating someone. And the Prefect certainly didn’t want to think too hard about the possibility of rejection and what that would mean for their friendship. 
‘Welp, guess I better get rid of this. Not like I’m gonna use it anymore’ as they stood up and gave themselves a single, determined clap, the doorbell rang.
‘Hm? Who could it be at this hour?’ looking around the room, the only things here were theirs and Grim’s ‘Odd, I don’t think the guys forgot anything’
The Prefect approached the door, thinking that perhaps Malleus had dropped by to go sightsee some gargoyles. Instead, as they opened the door, they were greeted by the man of the hour. Jamil Viper, whose panting, flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled appearance, revealed he may have been running here.
‘Jamil? What’s going on?’ The Prefect made to grab him by the shoulder but he stopped them with a raised finger. He took a few deep breaths, and when he was confident in his ability to speak, replied ‘I don’t know what I did to be ignored out of everybody today, but I brought you something to hopefully fix it’ 
Just then, as Jamil raised teh bagged food, did they realize he was carrying something. Their eyes widened and their cheeks flushed, but nevertheless they let him in.
‘Um, I don’t know what to say Jamil… um sorry, I promise I didn’t mean to ignore you all day’ Jamil walked in and quietly left the food on the table, careful not to wake Grim. He turned to eye the Prefect, not fully believing their words but too infatuated not to. 
‘So then how come everybody got gifts today except for me?’ at his accusatory words, the Prefect flushed even harder, the tip of their ears growing hot with embarrassment. Instead of answering with words, they simply grabbed the heart-shaped box and gave it to him, hoping this would suffice as an answer instead of having to admit so soon to their feelings.
Jamil eyed the box curiously, growing flushed himself upon noticing the…peculiar shape of it. He carefully opened it to see the assortment of colorful and well-crafted chocolates inside, as well as a handwritten list of flavors corresponding to each shape and color on the back of the lid. 
‘Uhhh’ all of a sudden, Jamil didn’t know what to say. The speech he had rehearsed on his way over, to try and make the Prefect see how he felt and possibly choose him as a boyfriend, was completely gone from his mind. ‘is this what Floyd was raving about?’ 
‘No, I- I made these myself, the others gifts were bought’ their voice was wavering between being strong and weak, as if they had to overpower the need to protect their heart with the love they felt for him.
Jamil took the box and began reading some of the flavors with curiosity, and seeing his rising eyebrows, the Prefect added ‘these are from back home, at least the few flavors and shapes I could remember better’ Immediately Jamil smiled, soft and fond. Oh, a piece of your world? Just for him? Was he truly that special to you? He ought to find a way to repay this thoughtful and kind gift tenfold. But first, he needed to make sure of something.
Letting the box on the table, he opened his own gift to you, revealing the delicious dessert he’d made. Although not quite as good as a professional chef’s would be, he was sure it would taste amazing. And so were you, from the smell of it.
‘I made this for you, because I thought maybe you were upset we- I haven’t been paying- able to spend much time with you’ he coughed a little, trying to regain the strength of his voice and his resolve ‘I figured…well we could eat together and catch up a bit…if…if that’s quite alright with you, Prefect’ and how could they say no? When he whispered their name with such softness, such reverence and delicacy, as if saying it any other way would break them, break him. 
The moment truly felt like taken out of a cheap rom-com movie, but that only made their own determination stronger. ‘I would love that Jamil…’ they stepped closer, slowly entering his personal space. Timidly, asking for permission and giving time to reject, they closed the gap between them with a small, chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. The moment felt perfect, they took it in for the few seconds it lasted. And then, when Jamil didn’t respond, they stepped back in a panic.
Was it too much? Had they read the signs wrong?
Jamil was frozen, face completely flushed and breath gone. They looked at him with concern and he looked at them with fear. And then confusion. And then realization. And finally embarrassment. Quickly he his his whole face with his hoodie, mumbling something about wanting to be cool on their first kiss.
The Prefect had to laugh, it was an honest reaction not meant to embarrass him further, but it clearly had that effect. So, they had to grab his hands gently, pry them away from his hood strings, slowly peel the hood down and hold his cheeks tenderly. Their eyes denoted all the love, warmth and longing they had for him and Jamil hoped his showed the same.
With one last loving kiss, they sat down holding hands to enjoy their treats together before Grim inevitably woke up from the smell of food. 
The Prefect always thought Valentine’s Day was just a commercial thing, but maybe there was a bit of romantic magic to this day after all.
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