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#deuce is just babie
luyo-mi · 5 months
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my pookies
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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 year
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No one:
Every single NRC boy in our guest room:
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blind0raven · 14 days
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Awwww Deuce wants to help, let him help Trey!
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Oh?
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Let the baby help!!!
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Yay!!! Don't worry Trey everything will be ok!!!
(Spoilers No No it was not)
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Sooo context...
Deuce tsum tried to get something from the top shelf, failed aaaaaand is trying to hang for its life...
MY BABY!!!!! ONE OF YOU SAVE MY BABY!!!!
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DEUCE!?!?!? SAVE THE BABY!?
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Huh!?!
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CATER YOU'RE THE SENIOR HERE!!!!
SAVE MY LIL BABY!!!
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Well... at least the lil on landed safely, that's good
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.... uh oh
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Trey senses strike again
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...
TREY LISTEN
LEAVE MY LIL BABY OUT OF THIS!!! IT WAS TRYING TO HELP AND THEN IT WAS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH!
DEUCE TSUM'S LIFE WAS AT STAKE HE IS INNOCENT! LEAVE HIM OUT OF IT!!!!
The fault lies on those who stood around and did not try to save lil Deuce tsum
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kaymarie-bell · 9 months
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One of my favourite running jokes in the fandom is "Deuce and Silver find out they have a single parent each and decide to arrange a date for them" and I think it would be so funny if the White Rabbit Festival event ended up being like that.
Like, Silver already thinks that Deuce would be a nice little brother to have specifically because he adores his mother the same way Silver loves his dad. They work well as siblings because they both value family a lot and are generally easy to get along with.
Shipping Lilia x Mama Spade exclusively because of the wholesome vibes all of them would have as a family lmao.
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hirokiyuu · 2 months
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Heddwyn "Wyn" Caldera is a freshman from Diasomnia. He's well known in alchemical circles for multiple revolutionary breakthroughs in the world of potions, the first of which he discovered at eight years old. Though invited to NRC last year at age thirteen, he waited a year before accepting a position at the school.
here he is my baby boy......!!!! been tossing this kid around in my head a lot lately and wanted to make a profile card for him to show him off to the world. imagine me as a proud parent and ive pulled this out of my wallet.
based off the black cauldron. both the movie and like. the cauldron itself. naturally he is good at potions. since the cauldron is essentially a mcguffin wanted by everyone the idea is that he's extremely good at what he does but is also pretty vulnerable to being used. he's also very stone-faced bc he's...... made of stone............ get it.............
template is from here!
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cerealmonster15 · 2 months
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Stupid silly sketchbook doodles of beloved basketball club shhdfbfbgby it’s so important 2 me that they act like annoying brothers to each other and also that everyone in nrc acts like they’d rather be shot than develop a crush on one of their bitch classmates
#cereal tries to draw#twisted wonderland#ummmmm. i don’t wanna tag anymore I’m embarrased LOL I wasn’t gonna post it#I was just doodling for private funsies but like yknow how Ywannatalk about ideas with people#even just goofy little headcanons lol#but like u don’t wanna directly place ur thoughts and feelings in front of someone sometimes#bc then it’s DIRECT and STRESSFUL A#but u also don’t feel like it’s worth a Post For All To See#we r keeping it casual here on cerealmonster15 dot tumblr dot com#I just wanna bully my sons#ok literally tho can u read my handwriting. this is the natural state#of on paper and normal not written with intent for others to need to see lol#anyway I think of Ace liked deuce he’d be soooooo complainy about it. and in denial#but I think once he wasn’t in denial he’d be bitching constantly#and I think Jamil would also want to die if he started liking azul lol#Floyd would bully them both. he’s having a great time. god for him I guess#Ace: well hang on let me pause my agony to go baby bro mode and annoy Jamil real quick#get the heat off him (which he started by complaining loudly first)#Floyd: haha you two like dweebs#can u imagine the turmoil of third years developing feelings#they r all allergic. except rook I guess but he’s his own flavor of freak#lilia is dad he doesn’t count he already had his romance agony [REDACTED BOOK 7 SPOILERS]#first years also allergic EXCEPT applejuice. Epel and deuce together are like bro I love u.#second years are mostly allergic but also contain Kalim and silver#shoutout to the light magic users mwah#actually silver I don’t know. I don’t think he’d be resistant but I think he just wouldn’t realize what he’s feeling at first#he’d be so 🧍 about it I think#well bitch you (me) better figure it out since ur actively writing Kalim/silver!!! girl help#ok I need to go to bed I have a long weekend ahead of me#Jamil blows Ace up with his mind the end
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mishkakagehishka · 2 years
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im not sure if asks are open but "baby boy" with lilia, sebek and silver plz
Well, this took. A while. ( ; ω ; ) But, hey, now that I've got the next three-ish months free, I should be faster! Hopefully. Thank you for the request, and sorry for the wait! The other "baby boy" requests can be found on my masterpost.
Lilia Vanrouge
This old man is very, very entertained
The moment those words pass your lips, his face morphs into That Look, as he readies to tease you
It's nothing bad, just a light joke about "you youngsters giving yourself too much freedom these days" and prodding if you really see yourself as his caretaker
You can shut him up just by mentioning how he does need a caretaker what with the way he sometimes acts so much like a child
Not to mention that he can’t even cook for himself, though he vehemently denies anything being wrong with his cooking
He'll frown and feign taking offence, but being in a relationship with Lilia would make light (!) banter like that relatively normal
And so, the first time you call him that will end up as a mutual-teasing session in which you’d try your best to one-up one another with “proof” of why the other needs a caretaker
But Lilia will start bringing up the original incident every once in a while from then on
He loves seeing you get all flustered while explaining, again and again, your intentions with that nickname, and he especially loves seeing you huff about whenever he brings it up in front of others
It’s not that he’s trying to bully you, he’s just a bit of a jokester - though he will back off if you tell him it’s really bothering you, as with most of his other teases
Conclusion: he doesn’t mind it, but in calling him that you give him a lot of ammo to further tease you. He does it out of love, though! That said, if you stop calling him that, he’ll start missing it. You might even see him flustered for once as he sheepishly barters; he’ll stop teasing you about it if you keep calling him your baby boy. Use that to your advantage.
Sebek Zigvolt
He’s horrified - scandalised, even
Despite the fact that you have been dating for a while, he never really “loosened up”, he’s still rigid and uptight and, frankly, awkward with open displays of affection
Of course, he is affectionate, he shows his love for you in his own way, it’s just that he’s absolutely useless at dealing with verbal shows of affection like that
He will (softly, after all, he is your boyfriend and you deserve special treatment for it) scold you for calling a fae, a knight, such as him a term that’d imply he was a child
He’s the type to jump to a conclusion, thinking you meant it very literally instead of as “I love you and want to pamper you”
You could, and should, communicate to him that you didn’t mean it condescendingly, but even hearing the actual meaning, he insists it’s still improper
Either way, Sebek is not keen on pet names - he’d much rather you call him by his first name
He might allow a pet name that emphasises his “knightly virtues”, but even that might take some time getting used to on his side
And you likely won’t get a pet name from him, either, simply because he thinks it’s more intimate if he calls you by your first name
Conclusion: he dislikes being called baby boy and will, although kindly, ask you to not call him that. Should you insist on using a pet name, stick to the traditional ones, such as “love” or “darling”, or use ones that emphasises the qualities he idealises and strives to improve in himself. That said, if you’re patient, you might be able to get away with the softer pet names sometime around when he becomes capable of saying, “I love you” without choking on his spit
Silver
Silver is never one to complain when you shower him in affection, no matter its form
He would easily get attached to “baby boy” if it’s a pet name you’ve given him
Although he wouldn’t go around bragging about it, he’d still get a little burst of energy whenever he’d hear you calling for him using that specific pet name
Oftentimes he’ll try to “capitalise” on this idea you have of him as your baby boy, by asking you to borrow him your lap as a pillow
You should also pet his hair while he’s taking a nap - because he’s your baby boy, he deserves to be pampered, right?
He’s one of the guys who will take advantage of the new pet name as best as he can, though he also does honestly like it
He thinks it’s cute - and he might offer you similarly cute pet names
He’ll likely start calling you his darling pet so he can return the lap-borrowing and head pats
Silver will also definitely defend you and the pet name from those who would dare to tease or make fun of it, so rest assured
Even if you slip and call him that in front of others, not only does he not mind, he will absolutely be (at least) glaring threateningly at anyone who dares even snort in reaction
That’s a name you have given him, and he’s allowing nobody to make you feel bad about it
Conclusion: Silver gets attached to the pet name really easily and then capitalises on it by having you pamper him at every opportunity. However, he might also become a little more focused on proving his strength to you at random times, too, just so you know he’s not just your baby boy, but also your knight in shining armour
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rainbowlimenade · 4 months
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hey maybe all the g1 couples being toxic is a thing that can be a thing that exists for all of them
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hunting-season · 2 years
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quick drabble i wrote of them because i was feeling soft and weak from reading yearning-type of posts. mayhaps it will expand to cover the rest of the days???
Sunday Afternoon (Jade/Deuce)
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It’s Sunday afternoon and Jade is still in bed. It’s Sunday afternoon and Deuce is curled into Jade’s side, drooling into the merboy’s sheets without a care in the world. Jade traces the tip of his finger around Deuce’s closed eye, the one his usual spade mark would be drawn on.
It’s Sunday afternoon and soft blue sunlight colors the dark spaces of Jade’s dorm room as light peeks in through Octavinelle’s ocean above. A blue sunbeam slants over Deuce’s closed eyes, but he doesn’t stir, because it is blue and he’s said once it was Jade’s color, so it is safe and warm to him.
It’s Jade’s day off from the Lounge, and he’s spending the afternoon of it in bed watching his lover sleep and stir out of it.
“Jade?” Deuce calls out softly, not Leech as he insists on calling Jade when they’re around others. Jade smiles, fingers smoothing down pieces of Deuce’s hair.
“Deuce Spade,” he says, because it is amusing to watch the way Deuce’s nose crinkles at the formality, “I hope you’re enjoying your afternoon.”
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azusawrites · 2 years
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Theo had been right. Taking off in the middle of the night with some stranger had been a recipe for disaster. It had been a death sentence almost. And yet, as if the last year had not been spent in bed, nursing her wounds, and wanting for her ribs to heal, for breathing to become easier, for Theo to stop looking at her as if he would never be able to trust her again, here she was, repeating a mistake which she wasn’t sure she could survive this time. Those two weren’t Theo. They weren’t prepared. Seven – they couldn’t even get along now, of all times, when it was critical to have an ally of sorts, instead of an enemy ready to sell you out. Perhaps that’s why her own disappointment seemed so potent. She was hoping for some sort of approval from people who would always see her as lesser than them. 
Feeling a gentle and familiar tapping, Kore looked down into Grim’s eyes. He seemed just as apprehensive as she was, glancing in Ace and Deuce’s direction occasionally and it suddenly dawned on her that she had once again missed the main point. She wasn’t doing this for herself. 
wip: mirror marchen
fandom: twisted wonderland
wc: 3602
next chapter sneak peek
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brebug242posts · 2 years
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live action monster high has no flavor
like we all know what’s going to happen in the movie..We all know
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trestole · 10 months
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"Wait, do you need help grocery shopping?" He blinks, giving Dana a concerned look. "I can help, if you need someone to carry your bags and put stuff away. And I don't mind helping you look for sales, while we're at it."
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" Ah don't worry too much, i can carry all my things " it was not really physical help that she needed but like hell she will say any word about how poorly she manages her already very little money she gets. She doesn't need to embarrass herself more than she already does on a daily basis
" B-But today you can actually come with me to help with that because today i'll have more bags to carry than usual since i will be stocking up for the month. So if you are free then you can come with me. We'll meet with Ruggie at Sam's and start there with the basics and then move to Azul's, oh and don't eat anything before it, i'll treat you to something nice when we get to Azul ok ? " since Leona if paying.
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blind0raven · 5 days
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Even Jade is curious of what the tsums merforms would look like lol
It could be possible the octo trio tsums do have merforms, but we'll never know sadly
Let us have Azul tsum have extra lil stubbies PLEASE!!!!
As for the tsum tweels' merforms.... sadly there's no Flotsam and Jetsam tsums either to picture it (or I couldn't find it which is possible)
The closest we could possibly get is this
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I can likely see they would keep their front lil stubby legs only and the back is similar to this one
Lil tails oh so cute~
The one tsum appearance I am curious about though...
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Delinquent Deuce Tsum
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wolken-himmel · 8 months
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In which (Y/n) finds a doll that bears a strange resemblance to Vil. The two enjoy some tea until Ace and Deuce show up to cause some ruckus.
The doll turns out to be the real Vil when (Y/n) accidentally kisses it.
Requested by @akemiozawa.
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"(Y/n)? What are you doing?"
You turned your gaze to the door of the Ramshackle living door as if you had been caught red-handed at the crime scene. Your eyes fell on none other than Ace and Deuce, whose gazes were trained at the blond doll seated across from you. They continued to stare at the two cups of tea on the coffee table, a steaming pot in between them.
"Having afternoon tea with my friend," you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Ignoring their presence, you took another sip from your cup.
Ace stared at the doll owlishly, then he broke out into laughter. "That's a doll, (Y/n)," he wheezed and almost doubled over.
"Shut up," you said with a roll of your eyes. "Don't hurt Vil's feelings like that."
Your words prompted the most confusion-laced gaze you had ever received from Deuce. "I hate to break it to you, (Y/n). But that's not Vil. That's a doll." The blue-haired boy hesitated for a moment as his eyes scanned the doll curiously. He quirked an eyebrow in realisation. "Although... that doll does look a lot like Vil. Did you make it yourself?"
The doll possessed the same brilliant blond hair with purplish tips that the Pomefiore dorm leader was known for. And its eyes were a soft lavender hue, too. But what was most unnerving was the way the doll carried itself: It possessed the same confidence and elegance that Vil himself exuded. Shoulders not slouched at all and with its chin raised high, the doll seemed to look down upon Ace and Deuce.
"I found the doll in one of the classrooms," you explained fondly. "And since Vil is too busy to spend time with me like always, I've decided to entertain myself with this mini-version of him. He has quite grown on me. So adorable and soft!"
"I've always found dolls creepy..." Deuce began to shudder, averting his gaze from the doll.
Slowly but surely, Ace's lips morphed into a smug grin. The red-head crossed his arms and began snickering. "You take better care of that doll than of Grim."
"That's not true!" An offended huff escaped your lips. "I just sometimes need a break from Grim," you murmured under your breath. Then you took another sip from your cup, planning to ignore the two troublemakers for now. You still had hopes to have a lovely time with the doll Vil.
Yet your plans were thrown out of the window when Ace suddenly let out a frightened shriek. "Ew! The doll just bit me!" he yelled in fear and, unable to stop his reflexes, threw the doll at the wall.
An unimpressed frown appeared on Deuce's face as he watched his scared friend. "Dolls can't bite, Ace..."
"No, really. It bit me," Ace insisted, trembling. "Are you sure it's just a regular doll, (Y/n)?"
"Now that you say it, Ace... The doll does emit a strange aura of magic," his blue-haired friend muttered after a while.
The doll lay motionlessly on the ground after having been thrown at the wall. Although it faced the ground, the doll seemed to be at least in one piece and without any other notable damage. You immediately rushed over to the doll and picked it up into your arms like a worried mother hen.
"Stop throwing around my little boy like that!" you yelled at the two Heartslabyul students. Meanwhile, you cradled the doll in your arms. "Come now, Vil. You're okay. I'll protect you."
"Stop coddling that cursed doll!" Ace sneered, trying to hide his fear.
A soft sigh escaped your lips while you ran your fingers through the doll's silky hair. Within a few seconds, the doll looked like new. But still, its expression seemed to have morphed into an angry scowl when before, it was a confident smile. "Did your face hit the wall when Ace threw you?" you asked as you noticed the doll's sour expression. "My poor baby, come on... I'll kiss it better..."
You carefully brought the doll to your eye-level. Your two friends were about to call you a freak for kissing a doll, but as your lips made contact with the porcelain of the doll, you felt its small body shift and twist into something else. Your lungs constricted when a puff of violet smoke filled the living room of the Ramshackle dorm. Violent coughs escaped your lips.
A round of gasps echoed around the room once the smoke had cleared up. You three first-years couldn't help but stare at the tall blond male standing there in all his glory. His hands rested on his hips as he stared down the two Heartslabyul students, blaming them for the red bruise on his forehead.
"Vil?!" you three cried out in unison.
Ace let out a cheer despite the precarious situation he was stuck in. "Hah! I knew the doll was cursed."
Embarrassment heated up your cheeks, and you couldn't help but avert your gaze to the ground. All the hours you had spent cuddling the doll and taking care of it, he seemed to remember. You gulped, unable to face Vil. "You... were that doll?"
"What were you thinking, throwing me around like a rag doll, potato?" Vil hissed out like a venomous snake that was about to devour Ace.
"I didn't know it was you! You were a rag doll literally!"
Deuce still couldn't even begin to understand the situation. His eyes kept darting between the three other inhabitants of the room. "How did this even happen?"
Vil let out a sigh, but his frown lessened when you brought him a pack of ice. His long fingers pressed the soothing coldness to his bruised forehead. "I don't know. Epel must have slipped something into my water to get away again. I never realised he was capable to something this potent though... I am quite proud of him," he explained and sat down in the chair the doll had previously occupied.
"Uhm... But I hope you still enjoyed the tea time, Vil..." A nervous smile graced your lips as you finally managed to summon the courage to look him in the eyes.
A little chuckle escaped the dorm leader's lips. "I did, dear. We shall repeat this again some time. It was quite nice to be forced to take a break from my hectic schedule." He took a sip from his previously untouched cup of tea. His tense muscles relaxed immediately. "Your presence is quite soothing, I must admit. Everything was okay until these two potatoes showed up."
"Hey! You bit me!" Ace huffed in dismay.
The room suddenly grew cold when Vil cleared his throat threateningly. "Perhaps I should turn you two into dolls and throw you around, too?" the Pomefiore dorm leader asked coldly.
"Vil, it's okay," you whispered and placed your hand on his arm. "Stress isn't good for your skin, remember?"
At your words, Vil's apprehension towards your friends seemed to die down. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his shoulders tiredly. "Fine, potato. But only because it's you. Now, I'd like more tea, please."
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 months
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MC: Okay, guys. I actually love here!
Ace: *has been finally able to connect to them* The fuck you're talking about? Grim needs you!
MC: Nah. Fr bro. I've got myself a baby goat. *moves the phone at Rollo*
Rollo: ...
Rollo: I'm not the goat they're referring to, but this. *showing the baby goat to the camera*
The baby goat: MEEEEHHH!
MC: *moves the phone back to them* Guys here are so mentally healthy.
MC: Except Rollo.
Rollo: *in the background* Excuse me?
Ace: Ohh... Okay, okay. I think I get it.
Ace: So you need to fix him?
MC: Yeah... I think? I mean, the Bell of Solace can't talk so I don't really know what she wants from me.
MC: Either therapy or marriage, right?
Rollo: What?
Ace: Bruh? What's with your obsession of emo boys?
MC: BWAHAHAHA!
Rollo: You should end that call now.
MC: We still have a few minutes before the class starts?
Rollo: The student council starts working before the classes even start. You should know that by now.
MC: I'm not part of the student council. The heck-
Rollo: You are now. *grabs the phone and hangs up*
Ace: ...
Epel: So...?
Ace: Yeah. We need to go there.
Deuce: How can they be convinced to stay there when it hasn't been a week?
Ace: They got tired being our therapist.
The secretary: You'll be doing my job from now on! Good luck! <3
MC: Ayo- Why?
The vice president: President Rollo wants you to learn the student council's tasks immediately.
MC: ...
MC: *looking at Rollo* Really?
Rollo: Yes.
MC: ...
MC: Or you just want to have an alone time?
The vice and the secretary: Pft-
Rollo: *frowns*
Rollo: You're disappointing me with your behavior.
MC: Your depression is a shame. Speak for yourself.
The vice president: Now, now. Fighting isn't good.
The secretary: That's right! Besides, you two always get along!
Rollo: *scoffs* Start working.
MC: Tch. Fine.
Lilia: I'm glad you're not mad that MC is studying in Noble Bell College.
Malleus: Why would I be? When they are sending me updates.
Lilia: Wait. Really?
Malleus: Yes. *shows him their recent chat*
MC: Find some free time so we can troll Rollo. :D
Lilia: ...
Lilia: *laughs*
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merakiui · 2 months
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never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.
An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.
It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.
But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.
Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.
Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.
Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.
The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.
Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.
You can be loved.
Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.
Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.
Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?
Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.
He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.
But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.
Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.
Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.
Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.
Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.
Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.
A mother.
You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.
Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.
There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.
He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.
The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.
“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”
He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.
These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.
Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.
Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.
Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.
Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.
In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.
He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.
Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.
At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.
He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.
You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.
Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.
“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”
Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.
Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.
He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.
He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.
This is love.
Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.
You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.
He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.
You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.
A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 
Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.
Oh, he came inside.
Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.
An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.
This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.
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