#MyWritings

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hi, sorry to bother you but I would like to ask for a post from Leona, where Cheka is trying to get her two favorite people married (ie Leona and the reader)

Hi! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but over all I had fun too. I hope you enjoy!

Duly-Noted - Leona

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ sfw/ featuring Cheka/ request

Word Count: 1790

Leona huffed out a sigh as he watched Cheka play with you on the floor of the Ramshackle dorm from his relaxed lounging on the couch.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out his nephew’s scheme when, as soon as the little fuzzball had appeared, he’d cheerfully stated that he wanted to come and play with you. Of course, Cheka had given himself as soon as he’d included his demands that Leona come along with him, even though he’d been to visit you at Ramshackle dorm plenty of times on his own.

Cheka was definitely fond of you, and Leona couldn’t really blame the kid considering how you patiently played along with the child. But that wasn’t what was really going on here.

What was going on here had more to do with Cheka’s pressing questions about why Leona so often told family members that he wasn’t particularly attached to anyone at school.

He could still see Cheka’s bright eyes looking up at him with an insistent frown on his face, “You know that is true, Unca! You like Y/n!”

Leona had snorted at his nephew, shaking his head at the child and, for once, was genuinely amused, “And what makes you think that?”

“You look at them the same way Papa looks at Mama. And Y/n likes you too! Why don’t you just take them home with you? Then you don’t have to worry about leaving them here while you visit us!” Cheka was as determined as Leona had ever seen him, but it was a drastic misreading of the situation.

Leona had plenty of reasons to not want to visit home, and none of them had a thing to do with you. But the moment he’d told the child that, Cheka had smiled. 

He’d been all but beaming up at Leona from where he sat on his lap, hands fisted in Leona’s shirt like he thought his uncle would run away, “But you do like them.”

There were moments, like right then, when Leona almost wondered if Cheka was more intelligent than his father. Perhaps he’d taken after his mother in that sense. But then Cheka’s hare-brained plot for tricking you and Leona into a relationship certainly hadn’t been well schemed.

After all, Leona wasn’t the only one who'd caught on. You had, too. Though, to be fair, Cheka wasn’t exactly being stealthy with his questions about how, “Wouldn’t it be great if we all lived together?”

Leona had fully planned on handling it, but you'd only smiled, shaking your head and saying you’d talk to Cheka about it, “He’s just a kid after all, and he doesn’t mean any harm. There’s no need to come down on him so hard.”

Leona had only eyed you with rising eyebrows before shrugging, “Have it your way. But he won’t drop this easily. He’s a stubborn little thing.”

You’d snorted, elbowing him lightly as you went by to rejoin his nephew, “Must run in the Kingscholar family.”

And that had been that.

Truthfully, Leona hadn’t known what you’d told his nephew, but Cheka had fallen largely silent on the matter of a possible romance with you after that. 

In hindsight, though, Leona really should have known better to think that was all there was going to be to it. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially when you or his nephew were involved.

He had to hand it to Cheka, though; he’d been completely caught off-guard when the child had suddenly questioned him about his wedding plans. Especially since it happened during a trip to Sam’s with Ruggie.

Cheka held up the little ring-shaped lollipop, and before Leona could even start to refuse to buy the treat for him, the child spoke with innocent curiosity, “What kind of ring are you going to get for Y/n when you two get married?”

Leona blinked, his eyes widening as he stared at the child who just stared up at him while Ruggie did a spit-take and Sam’s eyebrows lifted. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional beep as Sam continued to scan items.

Leona finally frowned, crossing his arms as he eyed the child, “What makes you think I’m going to marry the Herbivore?”

Cheka frowned almost immediately, as if he were trying to mirror his uncle’s expression, “Y/n and you like each other. But Y/n said they couldn’t move in with us until you two had gotten married. They said people would talk since we’re royals and they aren’t if you didn’t.” 

Cheka’s expression slowly shifted to one of concern, his tiny hand reaching out and grasping Leona’s pants leg, “You are going to marry them, aren’t you, Unca? Y/n’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Ruggie only barely managed to contain his laughter in an ugly-sounding snort that had Leona shooting him a look while a smile began to creep across Sam’s face.

“Did they?” Leona’s gaze shifted back to his nephew as he spoke, his tone careful as he eyed the child. But he was already putting two and two together without Cheka having to say anything.

You certainly had talked to Cheka about it, but now Leona was going to have to talk to you about this.

Ruggie wiped his eyes lightly before kneeling, humor still flooding his voice even as he eyed Cheka, “Well, marriage is a pretty big deal, Cheka. Leona can’t just go proposing without putting some real thought into it.”

Cheka frowned, but Ruggie only titled his head, reasoning with the child easily, “Y/n deserves the best, don’t you think?”

Leona watched, eyebrows raised, as Cheka frowned thoughtfully before his tiny face cleared like a sun coming out from behind clouds, and he nodded, smiling widely, “Oh! I see! Leona wants to sweep Y/n off their feet like those princes in the stories Mama likes so much.”

Leona didn’t even bother hiding his groan as Ruggie snickered mischievously, nodding and egging on the child, “Exactly, so you’re going to have to give him some time to do just that.”

Ruggie paused, glancing up at Leona with a grin that had Leona glaring at him warningly. But the hyena beastman was hardly even phased as he looked back at the child seriously, his eyes sparkling with poorly disguised mischievousness, “We’ll both have to support him, Cheka.”

Cheka’s expression turned determined as he nodded before looking up at Leona, “Good luck, Unca!”

Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an annoyed, “Uh-huh,” as he watched Ruggie lead his nephew out of the store.

 He would get Ruggie for what a mess this was inevitably going to end up being, as well as deal with whatever the little mercenary wanted in exchange for his assistance later. First, he had a certain herbivore to find.

And he couldn’t complain that you were hard to find. But then you never were.

You were, as ever, at Ramshackle. Working on upkeep for the run-down building on your day-off, just like you usually did on the weekends when you weren’t working at the Mostro Lounge.

Leona didn’t even have to call out since Grim handled letting you know he was here for him.

You turned, blinking up at him in surprise, before a smile split its way across your face. Leona wasn’t really looking at you, though. Instead, he was staring at the busted chair you were apparently working on with a frown. 

How the crossbar had wiggled its way out, was beyond him, but that was evidently enough, what had happened.

“Leona! No little prince with you today?” Your voice was bright, and Leona found himself looking back your way as he propped himself in the doorway.

He crossed his arms as he looked down at where you were seated on the floor, tilting his head at you, “Nope, but a certain little prince did tell me what you told him the other day.”

You blinked in confusion before your eyes slowly cleared, and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head slightly, “Oh, that. He bought the marriage excuse pretty easily, and at least that way I didn’t have to lie or something like that to him.”

Leona felt his eyebrows rise at your words as you twisted to go back to work on the chair, seemingly unconcerned by what side effects your words might have had.

“Yeah, but now that he’s found out we’re dating when no one else has, he’s going to report directly back to either Falena or his wife,” Leona pushed himself off the wall as he spoke, walking over to where you were.

You simply shook your head at his disgruntled words, a smile on your face, “I still don’t see why it would be so horrible for them to know. But even if he does tell them, they probably won’t believe him. Not if Falena is as concerned about your love life as you say he is.”

Leona frowned as he watched you before kneeling and reaching around you to help you support the chair while you fought the crossbar into place, “No, he’ll call and ask all sorts of questions or, worse, have his wife ask me all sorts of questions.”

You hummed, tilting your head slightly, “You’ll be able to handle it if it comes to that. But, like I said, I really don’t see why it’s a big deal if they know or not. I’d like to meet your family.”

Your words caused his eyebrows to lift once more as he glanced over at you, watching as a frown crossed your face.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, confusion accenting your voice as soon as you spoke, “How did you find out what I’d told Cheka anyway? Did he just tell you?”

Leona let out a huff, his ears twitching as he glanced off to the side, “He saw one of those lollipop ring thingies at Sam’s and asked me what sort of ring I was going to get you for the wedding.”

You laughed aloud, earning yourself a look even as you shook your head in light-hearted amusement before glancing at him, “Hopefully nothing like a Ring-pop. That would be hideous.”

Leona grinned, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t want something big like that?”

You snorted, shaking your head, “No. I think a rock that size, even a fake one, would be a little heavy.”

He let out an amused huff, turning his eyes back to the chair as he idly considered what sort of ring might actually be best, “Duly noted.”

After all, your thoughts on it all mattered too, even if you didn’t know that held actually had been looking at some rings already.

[jiosoull]

Imagine Doctor Zayne trailing his fingers along the side of your neck. It was cool to the touch and a soft sigh left you, fluttering your eyes close before he softly kissed your lips.

Angling his head slightly and leaning into you a bit more, savouring the taste of your lips on his. Slow and meticulous, unraveling you bit by bit.

His hand cupped your cheek. The ticklish sensation of his fingers at the back of your neck before he held you there, slowly massaging it and coaxing a soft moan out of you.

He was relishing the warmth of your body pressing closer to his chest and he lightly bit your bottom lip in response. It made you whimper.

An amused chuckle left his lips. You seem to enjoy that.

His tongue darted out and gave a teasing lick on your lip before pulling back, smirking at the sight of your pout and whining as he stopped you from going any further.

"We will continue this another time," He mused, rubbing his thumb over your lips and staring down at you. His intense gaze made you blush, tilting your head away shyly and avoiding his stare.

He didn't let you ignore him for too long before he gently pulled you back to face him again. Eyes widening in surprise when he was much closer to you now, his forehead resting against yours. That doe-eyed look makes him want to tease you some more.

His hooded eyes were twinkling with interest, glancing down at your parted lips while he held back the growing urge to taste more than just your lips.

No, not now... There was no need to rush. He will take his time with you, figuring out your weak spots and teasing you while he's at it. It will be entertaining to see how long you'll last before he takes you.

[welshoot]

Theory/Analysis of Malleus's Signature Spell and The Nature of Happy Endings

So, with the various information that’s been slowly coming as updates roll out, I’ve been thinking about the events of the Diasomnia chapter thus far, Malleus’s signature spell, and the nature of happy endings. For fear of spoilers, the rest of this is going to be under-the-cut, and, fair warning, it has spoilers for the Diasomnia chapter (both English and Japanese spoilers) and gets kind of long.

Alright, so Malleus has asserted that, via dreams, he is going to give everyone their happy endings and thus give them a perfect life they won’t want to live, right? In comes his signature spell, “Fae of Maleficence,” that puts everyone to sleep and seems to grant him some level of control over what they dream about. Supposedly, it makes everyone dream of a wonderful life where everything is just how they would want it. This supposed real happy ending is a sort of callback to the Twisted Wonderland slogan “Let us show you the real happily-ever-after” or “I’ll show you a real happy ending,” depending on the translation you look at. Now, I’ve already done an entire analysis of that slogan here, so we won’t get into that here. Instead, I’m more interested in whether or not Malleus can actually construct a dream where everyone has their ‘real’ happy ending.

The thing is, what makes a person happy is very subjective, and it can be very difficult or even impossible to tell what that thing will be. And, to make a long story short, I don’t think Malleus is omnipotent or all-knowing enough to be able to do that for the entirety of NRC, the cast of the game, or all of Sage Island, much less everyone in the world of Twisted Wonderland. Instead, I think the dreams people have are Malleus's best guess at what their version of happily-ever-after would look like.

Let’s look at Idia’s first, because right now that is quite possibly Malleus’s strongest one. In Idia’s dream, we see a world where Ortho didn’t die and is going to RSA. Idia is still housewarden, and the dream is taking place during the first day of the semester, when new freshmen are coming in and being placed in dorms.

Now, I’ll be honest, this is a good guess as to what Idia would want most. Bluntly put, Idia will forever regret what happened to the original Ortho because he is at fault for his little brother’s death, even if it was an honest mistake that was made when he was only a child. 

However, this dream does not account for some very simple facts. First, Idia is the way he is, largely because of what happened to Ortho. He would quite possibly be very different if Ortho hadn’t died the way he did. Second, what about the current Ortho? Say what you like, but Idia has been shown numerous times to genuinely love the robot, who is his little brother. Yes, he regrets what happened to his little brother, the OG Ortho, but he also loves his current little brother. In no way is Idia ever shown to hold himself back from Ortho because he genuinely views the Ortho we know, our Ortho, as his brother. The fact that our Ortho is a robot does not matter to Idia because, in Idia’s eyes, that’s his little brother just as much as OG Ortho was. 

Because of that, I don’t think Idia’s happy ending would remove the Ortho we know and love from his life, because I don’t think Idia wants that. In fact, it would quite likely be like losing yet another brother to Idia. And that is where the flaw in the dream Malleus has shown him is. Because, bluntly put, Malleus doesn’t know Idia well enough to realize any of this and has been shown to not entirely view Ortho as human. And that is fair. Ortho is technically not human, but even then, he is still Idia’s brother, who is as close to human as a robot as one can ever hope to reach. In fact, Ortho is a wonderful example of the entire argument about what really makes someone a ‘human’ because if it's a soul and emotions, then Ortho has those. He received them at the very end of Ignihyde, but that’s a discourse for another time.

Moving on, we have Epel’s dream and the ordeal that is buff Epel. This is currently the most amusing outcome of these supposed happy endings. From a totally cold, logical point of view, Epel has what he’s always wanted. He’s tall, he’s strong, both Savanaclaw and Pomefiore want him in their dorm, and the list goes on and on. But, when one looks at this dream Epel’s appearance, the problems become pretty obvious. Because, let’s be honest, there is no way Epel would ever want to look like that. The entire thing looks exactly like Malleus trying his best to give Epel what he wants while not thinking about how some adjustments need to be made in order for this particular happy ending to come true. Interestingly, it ought to be noted that Malleus has shown some curious insight into Epel, though, in that Epel still has his pretty face in this dream form. Because, as Epel has grown as a character, he seems to slowly be getting attached to the unique power that comes from being quite so cute. Specifically, that people will underestimate him, and he can use that to his advantage. Nonetheless, in Epel’s dream, just like in Idia’s, we see that the happy ending is flawed and shows that, if Malleus did engineer to keep people happy and not wanting to wake up, Malleus’s understanding of the characters is too flawed for him to make a flawlessly happy ending tailored perfectly to them.

Onwards to Rook! Much like with Epel and Idia’s dreams, this one has echoes of the truth. Rook would no doubt love for Neige and Vil to be friends, and it is incredibly interesting that, rather than being the quaffed Rook we know, dream Rook is rougher around the edges in terms of his appearance. However, there are glaring issues with this dream too, though. The thing is, Rook adores Vil the way he is, and even though he would love to see him befriend Neige, he knows it's wrong to try and force Vil’s hand. In fact, doing such a thing would mean changing Vil, which would lead to him not being the Vil that Rook knows and loves anymore. In many ways, the beauty that Rook sees in Vil is Vil’s ability to keep pushing himself even after a loss and the way Vil is constantly striving for greater heights. Making him friends with Neige would damage this, though, because Neige is one of the reasons Vil always pushes himself. He doesn’t want to fall behind and lose to Neige, so he constantly works to improve himself. So here, the flaw to the supposed happy ending is that Rook cannot have this dream and still have the Vil he loves and respects.

Finally, we have Vil’s dream, and this is one of the uglier examples. Vil’s dream is kind of messed up, after all. So we have a super popular Vil with Neige as Vil’s notably downtrodden assistant that Vil is bullying. As Vil’s dream starts to fall apart/get shattered by the dream-hopper squad, stuff starts to go awry very quickly with the dreamscape shifting and taking us back to Vil’s overblot at the VDC stage. Except this time, Neige really does die. Stuff naturally spirals from there, but it is in this that the supposedly happy ending is flawed. Because yes, Vil does want to be popular and recognized for his hard work, and yes, Vil does want to triumph over Neige. I’m going to go out on a limb here that I’m sure some won’t agree with me about and say that Vil doesn’t want it to happen this way. In fact, I would say that Vil would never want it to happen this way. And the main reason I say that is actually because of Vil’s overblot. When Vil was overblotting, he described himself as hideous and stated that he could never forgive himself. Now, there is a lot to unpack in just those statements, but the baseline is that Vil was horrified by his own actions. Not only had he sunk to the lowest of lows, he’d become the very thing everyone had always typecasted him as and the thing he’d never wanted to be. The villain. Killing Neige is the last thing Vil would ever want to do, which is probably as far from his happy ending as one could ever get. Now, it could be argued that the dream was already fraying and that it was doing its best not to crumble, but even then, this doesn’t make sense. Because taking Vil back to that moment actually helped him wake up, because that wasn’t a happy ending. That was a nightmare and it actually helped jar Vil back awake because it was just that upsetting for him.

But would Malleus realize that when he doesn’t know Vil that well? His interactions with Vil have been limited at best. It is quite possible that all he really knows is that Vil wants to be popular and hates Neige, who is in his way. And if that is the case, Malleus, in his overblotted state, might have assumed that the disappearance of Neige would be a truly joyful thing for Vil.

Now, while they came earlier in the story, I’ve saved Sebek and Lilia until the end for a reason. Simply put, Malleus knows them. Sebek’s dream was well-put together as a happy ending because he knows Sebek well. For Sebek, Lilia getting to go on a trip and being honored by everyone would be a happy thing. Especially since Sebek didn’t realize the exact reasons for Lilia’s going away.

As for Lilia’s dream, it is interesting. Because it is less of a dream and more of an amalgamation of Lilia’s memories all leading to the moment of Malleus hatching. In it, we see some hard times for Lilia. Moments that would hardly be described as happy. But it all culminated in the moment he saved Malleus’s life. And that would be a joyful memory for Lilia. Because Malleus, the only son of Meleanor, who’d entrusted her son to Lilia, and he was still unhatched at the time, had been dying in his egg, crying out for help, and Lilia saved him. It would be a difficult moment to triumph over in terms of importance and happiness. Because while I’m sure Lilia has many happy memories of Silver, Sebek, and Malleus growing up and his times with Meleanor and Revan, this would be a big one.

It is worth noting here that neither Lilia nor Sebek’s dreams are really endings of any sort. Which quite possibly reflects the fact that they are important to Malleus. Malleus doesn’t want an ending here. He wants things to continue forward in a happy, perfect manner for these people he cares about.

So, in conclusion, I think Malleus is crafting what he believes will be everyone’s happy ending and that these dreams are less of an insight into each character and more of an insight into how Malleus views them. And it’s understandable that he can’t perfectly craft a happy ending for everyone. Like I said, I imagine happily-ever-after is very subjective for everyone and that, even if you know someone well, you might not know what their perfect happy ending would be.

Anyhow, this is just my theory, and I look forward to seeing how things move forward through the story. I would love to hear everyone's thoughts on this because I’m sure I missed some points. After all, I only play on the English server and so I used translations from the Japanese server, and I wrote this very quickly.

[definitelynottony]

Starker High School AU wip

(Peter is a sophomore and Tony a senior. Peter is a somewhat new kid, too smart, too anxious, and too pent up. Tony understands him the most and knows exactly what the kid needs. BDSM, Daddy kink, underaged, angsty)

"Bad boys get punished, Pete." Tony rumbled lowly.

"...holy shit." Peter panted, out of breath. A bolt of heat shot through him, an electrical shock that left him tingling. "Fuck. Yeah, punish me then Daddy, please." Peter didn't realize he had whispered it out loud until after it was said. Until after it was too late to take it back.

... The whole time, Tony had been corralling Peter to the closest wall available. When they got close enough, Tony shoved the younger teen against it. Peter winced; more from the shock of the cool, pale toned sheetrock against his back than the force itself. Tony kept firm against him. Chest to chest, pressing Peter's arms above his head, pinning him to the wall.

"Say it again." The darker haired teen demanded in a rough whisper against Peter's ear.

"Punish me... Daddy." Peter's tongue felt heavy. The tension was heady, and the younger teen had no idea what was happening, but he never wanted it to stop.

"Fuuuck" Tony drawled out. His head dropped to the crook of Peter's neck, like the air was too thick and he needed a second to just breathe. That thought alone turned Peter on almost as much as the mouth that was licking its way to his ear.

"God." Tony huffed out, irritated. Why was he irritated? Peter was feeling amazing! "Alright, sweetheart, if we're doing this, then we need to get a couple of things outta the way first."

"Holy fuck…" Tony groaned, head back, eyes closed. He was on some cloud nine shit. "Jesus! You're so fucking good, baby. Sound like a spoiled little princess." Tony crooned, feeling that familiar bullet of heat going straight to his cock. It was honestly starting to hurt at this point, the way it strained against his jeans. "But I need you to shut up-"

"Yeah. I thought that's what we were doing?” Peter gestured down to their very noticeable situations. “Come on, I thought you were gonna punish me? Punish me! Please, Daddy." He whined like a brat because Peter Parker is a brat. A bossy brat and Tony fucking loved it.

"Bu-"

"I said shut it."

[disastersteps]

i think anita, as a coffeestep, would def loose their mind over a coffee machine that was def gifted, and. over time, it had became part of their favourite routine.

i think anita does it every morning, without a missing beat, themmy teases neets for just getting the coffees on time before everyone even come in, the sound of sizzling, the machine roars, and the way neets roll their eyes saying they're not just cooking, they can brew coffee. (and maybe a thousand attempts at latte art in the progress)

---

Everyone that step into the break room in the Rangers HQ will hear that machine. It is annoying but it had always been a sign that Sidestep was here. That everyone's thoughts were "Oh, Sidestep's here." And Julia walks in with Sentinel, she sees Anita. Finishing it off with two drinks, they gave these two a confident grin and turn to look at Sentinel. Saying "Dark roast, Sentinel?" knowing that was exactly what he needed after a long night patrol mission. And. Julia is watching with a amused look. She was just happy that someone that was so shut off had grow into so confident, comfortable. Maybe she was falling for them. Maybe. But eh, she's in denial.

Then Heartbreak happened, and then.

The machine never make a noise. No one is making that coffee with it. And there was no one to cook with. Julia Ortega had stay away from the break room or the kitchen in her place. She avoid it, like it was haunted there. It was too quiet. Too eerie. Both of these places. There was no jab of comments, and no one to run that machine. No one. ( Not that she was aware that Chen had been maintained Anita's coffee machine. He didn't have to. But he does. He still need coffee after all, but it just feel wrong to use it. It had been Anita's favorite thing. He could still hear the echoes of Anita Lee complaining that it need to clean everytime Ortega used it. He keep it intact. Not even when newly Ranger Argent raise a eyebrow and asking why he hadn't replace it. Chen says it's part of the Rangers' property. That was a lie, but Argent doesn't bother and roll her eyes, walking away. Not that he will say it was Sidestep's since. They are not here. They're dead, after all.)

And some day, Anita would be back in the very break room they hadn't seen in years. Some day, they will look over and see the covers. It covered something. That some day, they pull it off and their chest clenched tightly at it. Some day, they want to say that it's old. It need to be replaced. But some day, Anita seen to it, and realized-

It's still working.

---

Julia Ortega had step into the break room the first time when she first found Anita. The coffee machine was then covered, she didn't want to pull it off and see if Anita remembers it when they were tired from helping with Argent.

But the next time she did, it was the first time she heard the sizzling sound that was coming from that room.

Just like the good old days.

[crystalsenergy]

The worst part of self-imposed pressure is wanting to finish a sculpture in one day,

forgetting and failing to recognize that the beauty of any work comes from repeated effort, not from the rush to complete it.

Every day, we have a unique palette of colors 🎨, according to the fluctuations of our moods and our own vital energy. And that’s normal.

It's important to understand that each day, our different color palette helps us see what has already been done and what we can improve.

We float, our color palette floats, and that's exactly why one day we add brown, another day purple, another day orange and yellow, until the work is fully composed with the colors it needs.

And that's how we get there.

Of course, we should always avoid self-criticism and instead look forward, not backward.

Much of what is done in haste, simply to finish a task, lacks appreciation, presence, and self-recognition.

Beauty lies in the step-by-step process, in the lightness, and in the small investments!

Little by little is how we get there.

Trust in that! 🩷

Understand that the most productive things in your life are not those you finish quickly, but those you dedicate yourself to little by little. In your own time and with consistency. In your time.

So, right now, look at the things you’ve done until today with appreciative eyes, rather than focusing on what is lacking.

You're on a journey!

Tomorrow is another day. Calm down 🩵

[igzsatelier]

Even though you've only recently met him, Death was so kind to you. Probably the most polite wolf you've ever met, compared to the least pleasing encounters with humans.

Aloof to some extent, but he has interesting stories. You watched his annoyed and unfiltered hatred for an orange cat in boots. You giggled at his exasperated sigh.

In return, you shared a few stories of your own. The nightsky moving idly as you two sat there casually conversing between yourselves.

His compliments combined with that intimidating snarl was charming in its own right. A little unnerving with his eager gaze on you, but you know he was enjoying your company.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

But you were aware of his job, right?

His duty to greet the souls who have passed on and help guide them into the afterlife. Whether it was naturally or by force.

Why'd you think he was here for?

[sysba]

cal x edith – two pages (high school verse)

the infinite joys the hs au brought me today especially... they are just two little guys!!! they're so silly and stupid about each other!!! and they are sooo dramatic!!!!! and i wld kill for them <3 anyways this was brought to you by, edith never speaks abt her dyslexia and cal is so cute they have to kiss instead of doing homework. *shrug* i am addicted to writing first kisses in every universe what can i say. pov u are the preppy perfect child of a demanding family with a lot of suffocating expectations on your shoulders and i'm the unloved unwanted eldest daughter of an absent mother, wyd

2.1k words (damn who are u @ me); cal says 'fuck' is that allowed? @night-triumphantt get your son, he's saying bad words and kissing the hot goth girl from school

“I was thinking you could take a look at this part? I’ve already got most of the research done, so we only have to comb through it.” 

Cal doesn't lift his eyes from the papers scattered on the table, a small crease between his brows, the one that appears whenever he’s focused. That’s why he doesn’t notice Edith staring at him instead of what he’s handing her, not until his arm starts to feel heavy. He misreads her expression, though. 

“It’s two pages.” An encouraging smile that is completely wasted on her.

Only two pages. He’d gotten an early start on their project as soon as the teacher paired them together— something about ‘making sure Edith had at least one graded project for the class’ and ‘being a good influence on her’. It had bothered Cal to no end, the way they had talked about her as if she wasn’t even there, but then she’d sneaked a playful smile at him and Cal had stopped worrying about it… he’d stopped thinking altogether, to be honest.

Still, it didn’t seem like she enjoyed this kind of thing, so he had tried to handle most of the work in advance. He was only now starting to think it hadn’t been enough.

Edith finally glances at the papers, only to raise an eyebrow at him. “Or, you could enjoy my two pages while I go get us something to drink.”

“We have coffee, though?”

Two steaming cups sit in front of them, a half-drunk milk tea and an abandoned americano which Edith completely discards as she leans towards Cal and flashes him a toothy smirk (Cal didn’t even know smirks could be toothy).

“Then I can sit here and look pretty. What d'you think?”

He almost splutters. I don’t think that would be much help, he thinks, because with her this close (so close he could see the faint, sparse freckles on her nose if only he dared to look) he can barely breathe, let alone focus on a detailed research project that would earn them a passing grade. He can’t say all that, of course.

“Alright,” he yields, leaning back until there are enough inches between them that he can think again. The pages are a bit crumpled in his hand. “I’ll handle it, don’t worry. You can, uh, you can leave if you have somewhere else to be.”

Of course she would. Cal is self-aware enough to know he makes for very tedious company. It’s surprising enough that Edith already spends this much time with him as it is, but homework doesn’t help his case. He gets it. He gets it, but it still stings, and he can’t look her in the eye as he dismisses her with as much gentleness as he can. 

She snatches the papers from his hands only a second later, and Cal doesn’t know which is more startling— the fact that she actually chose to stay and help, or the odd expression on her face as she grumbles. 

“You’re not supposed to be this easy.”

She’s probably scolding him, he realises, but he can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face and makes his cheeks ache as he thanks her. 

Edith stares at him for a moment longer, a sun-like warmth in her bones that has definitely nothing to do with how luminous Cal’s smiles are, nothing at all. The sun just watches her back completely unaware. 

Swallowing a sigh, she lowers her head to the page and watches it (for real, this time). It catches her off guard, the wall of ink now in front of her. The words are printed so tiny that they almost seem jumbled into a single page-wide stain that makes Edith’s head throb in pain just looking at it.

“You got stingy with the font size, huh.” Keep your tone light and do not look at him.

“Sorry, I figured fewer pages would make it more motivating,” he chuckles, rubbing his neck a bit sheepishly, and it would be infinitely endearing had the joke not been lost on Edith. 

Cal turns back to his notebook, leaving her to that jet-black nightmare and the burn in her throat as she silently takes a deep breath and starts detangling the words. 

One word at a time, steadily, but fast enough that he doesn’t notice her struggle. She’s not sure how far she’s gotten before the frustration starts making her antsy. 

It’s only because of that that Cal loses focus on his work to glance at her, and frowns at what he sees. The disarray of her expression and the way her lips frantically take the shape of whatever word she's getting stuck on. Edith thinks she’s been still, until Cal calls her and then she freezes entirely. 

“Edith?” 

The unfinished homework gets thrown back on the table with unbridled heat, but the look she gives him is one of cold boredom. The mask is flawless enough to nearly make Cal flinch in surprise.

“This is dreary. Can’t we do something else? Watch a football game, get a lobotomy, anything works.”

Are her eyes glossy? Edith swears to herself that if she starts crying now she’ll leave town and change her name. Maybe she’ll join the circus, or a cruise line.

Cal would miss it all; the light trembling in her right hand when she pushes the papers towards him, or how she angles herself away from him even though she’s the one who sat so their thighs were near touching. He’d miss all of it, had he not been paying excruciating attention to her for the last few months. At any other moment, he might even feel embarrassed about it.

But it clicks for him now, that maybe it’s not getting stuck doing a school project with him that had Edith so on edge, and maybe she had liked that class when she’d first picked it. 

“You can’t read it?” he half-guesses, half-asks, making sure to maintain the distance she put between them.

I can! She almost yells at him for asking. She can, she could read it. It might take her a bit longer than average, but she could read it just fine. Except the text is very dense and Cal is sitting next to her, and waves of panic cross her whenever she thinks about him pitying her. Illogical fear, as all fear is, because he would never think less of her for something like this.

“I can read it,” she sneaks a glance at him, but his expression hasn’t moved from that unnerving patience. “Just, not with you hovering.”

Cal nods twice, and they both pretend she wasn’t lying about him ‘hovering’. 

“Here.” 

Edith blinks in confusion before noticing he’s handing her her own coffee cup. It’s probably lukewarm at best, now, but it feels scalding when she takes it from him out of reflex, fingers brushing together and a faint blush painting Cal’s smiling face…  

“I read and you listen? I’ve been told my reading voice is dull, so you might want to hang onto that.” 

Painstakingly gentle, that tone of his, so much so that Edith can feel some sort of fight-or-flight instinct kicking in her chest. But she finds herself nodding instead.

Whoever called Cal’s voice dull needs to be checked in at the hospital. That’s pretty much the only thing going through Edith’s mind as she listens to him read, the content of his research completely eluding her. He has a nice, deep voice, but the softness of his tone makes it sound lighter. The way breeze would sound on a sunny day, smooth and sweet and kind— Edith vaguely wonders, and not for the first time, if it would taste like honey (if he would taste like honey). 

She’s still dazed to the point where it takes her a moment to notice he’s gone quiet, that familiar dimple on his brow showing up as he pouts slightly. Cute, cute enough to eat.

“This really is hard to read...” Cal’s displeased mumble shakes Edith out of her thoughts, or lack thereof, and she doesn’t miss the fact that whatever he’s saying is entirely for her benefit. She calls him out, or well, intends to, before he smiles at her and at that point she’d rather chew her own tongue than make him stop. “Sorry, I need a break, is that alright?”

‘Is that alright?’ he asks, as if she’s worked hard enough to make her the boss of him. What a liar he is, and not a very good one, but he looks so pretty and he’s so good to her that Edith can only breathe a quick yeah as she leans forward.

Whether it all happens very fast or in slow motion, Cal can’t be sure. He barely feels the pull on the lapel of his blazer as Edith tilts him towards her, but he follows obediently. What was it that she said to him earlier? That he didn’t have to be so easy? He usually keeps her words in such high regard, but right now Cal can’t find it in him to care. Edith’s lips are warm against him and he feels malleable, like she could reshape him if she touched him a bit more, and he’d be enthusiastically compliant as she did. He likes this, likes being easy for her.

She draws back to let him breathe, her hands sliding from his neck to cup his cheeks. Her palms are a bit cold, he only now notices.

“Good break? Or bad break?”

Edith tilts her head to the side as she scrutinizes his every move. Cal doesn’t feel like he can move at all. His nervous system might be fried, after all. He might collapse, he’s not sure, but it’s fine if Edith catches him in her arms.

He swallows down the flurry of thoughts and tries to answer, but he trips on his words.

“You– this is–” How does one speak, again? Cal could swear it was easy a few minutes ago. But that was before and this is now, and now Edith has kissed him and there’s a faint static noise buzzing in his ears.

At least whatever is showing on his face seems to amuse her.

“Should I do that again? Might help clear your mind.” Oh, he chokes at that, and has to watch her expression go from teasing to horrified. “Jesus, Cal, I was joking, relax.”

“No!” He shouts it, or at least he thinks he does (it felt way too loud, especially for someone this quiet) but he has to explain to her that he liked it, he very much liked it, and the only reason why he’s not making any sense right now is that he can only think about kissing her again, “I didn’t mean– You, ah, didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“Sure, okay. Good.” Edith is looking at him as if she’s wondering whether to call an ambulance or just leave him there, and he wants to laugh, mostly in panic.

“You should.”

“What, do something wrong?” She snorts, doubt still pulling at her pretty features, “I think I’ve got that covered.”

“Do it again,” he blurts the words once again, racing to some kind of finish line as he mentally curses his inability to express himself without looking like a fool. Then he realises what he just said and he’s sure he stops breathing altogether. “If you still want to, you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything. I– fuck!”

“Did you just curse?”

That does it. Even whispered under his breath, the word is so unexpected coming from him, a stark contrast with— well, with everything about him, really; it steals a laugh from Edith, who’s giving him a look that’s two parts lovestruck marvel and one part trying not to mock him to oblivion. 

Cal could die now, but he chooses to kiss Edith again instead. He moves slowly, giving her ample chance to pull back, and his heart does a somersault when he realises she won’t, no, she’ll kiss him back.

Ah.

Edith grins as he leans in, not pulling away but waiting for him to reach her. And when he does, she kisses him for every time she’s wanted to but couldn’t, and for every time she thought he wanted to but wouldn’t. 

Definitely honey.

She only interrupts the kiss because she’s sure Cal won’t even though they’re out of breath, and then she’d have to reanimate him— a waste of time, now that they can kiss all they want. He takes the hint, though, panting against her mouth, their foreheads resting against each other.

“You cursed.”

He did. He’d probably apologise if it were someone else, but he can hear Edith’s smile in her words and can’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

“I’m not good at this.”

Edith hums at the confession. Her thumb is tracing small circles over his pulse.

“I’m not good at school projects.”

It feels less vulnerable, saying it now, with her arms around him. His hand finds hers without missing a beat.

“I’ll help you.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

[beautopia]

One-off MyBeauty script. Enjoy!

[musicmyxiii]

Tyannie + ty reveals his feelings in an argument

Thanks for the prompt, here is the story. Quick note that there might be some mistakes in it so sorry about that! Enjoy!

“I simply don’t want you to go, how many times do I have to repeat myself?!” Ty was almost shouting out of frustration. He was at Annie’s place, because she had asked him to come over to ask him for a favour. If he had known what it was beforehand, he would have stayed home.

“I don’t get why you’re so against it. Who do you think you are? My mom?! I’m not going to let you tell me what I should do and what I shouldn’t!” Annie said. She was tired being treated like a kid by everyone surrounding her. It was bad enough that her mom treated her like a ten year old, but now Ty?!

“I don’t even get why you’re asking me! I thought I made it very clear that I didn’t want to drive you to Jackson anymore” Ty said, remembering very well the moment he had told her and their hands had touched on the handle of the door and sparks flew. Unfortunately, this argument was kind of the opposite. The room was filled with tension, but it wasn’t a romantic one.

“I know, but I thought that maybe you would have changed your mind. And I get that you don’t want to do it because you’re afraid to get into trouble with his mom again but-“

“That’s not the reason I don’t want to go, I don’t care one bit about what his mom thinks” Ty interrupted her.

“Then what’s the reason? Because I don’t get it.” Annie said, getting tired of this fight. All she did was ask Ty for a ride to Jackson, because he wanted to talk to her. She thought it was a good idea to ask Ty to drive her since they had been on way better terms these last couple of months.

“Because I love you Annie”

Annie didn’t realise the gravity behind these words: “I know you’re my best friend too, and I know you want to protect me and you think he’s going to hurt me again…”

“No, Annie. I love you. I am in love with you and I don’t want to drive you there because I don’t want you getting back together with Jackson. Just the thought of you two alone drives me insane.”

Silence. Ty could die right now. Annie’s mouth was a little bit open, while she was trying to process what Ty had just blurted out. “You… You’re… in love… with me?” She said very slowly. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

“Yes, I am” Ty softly said and he took a step closer to her. “I am in love with you Annie Sullivan” He took her head between his hands and kissed her. He kissed her like he had never kissed someone before.

So this was the first story. I hoped you enjoyed it. I'm working on the other prompts as well (so don't worry these are coming, also the Quogan ones).

[sluggybasson107]

Random thoughts but I’ve been building an adventure AU based around the idea of the dark masters plotline being longer after the group separated.

Minor details of the warped Digital World have been changed but the story is mostly the same. So far in the story only Metal Seadramon has been defeated.

Of course, this idea continued till evolve into its own “failed” storyline where without everyone’s help. The main group (Taichi, Koushirou, Takeru, and Hikari) cannot seem to defeat Mugendramon and Piemon. They’re the ones trying to fight against the Dark Masters and their followers (more on this later) the most. With two members being younger, they move slower and are a bigger target than the other groups.

Due to the war continuing for so long, there have been a good amount of Digimon who have started siding with the Dark Masters and wanting them to fully take over and rule the world, as they promised less violence and more stability if resistance from other Digimon were to decrease (they blamed the fighting and patrol like Lady Devimon on the Chosen Children).

The major reason why so many Digimon are willingly following the Dark Masters now is because of Mimi. Unfortunately, due to a losing battle against a one on one with Lady Devimon, Mimi begged her not to kill her friends. Piemon, who knew her influence in the Digital World, ordered Lady Devimon to take her in with the Digimon. She’s furious about working with the Dark Masters, but she knows Palmon isn’t strong enough to fight against Piemon. This causes a dynamic of wanting to save as many Digimon as possible and being ordered to kill them or convince them to join “her” side.

Jyou, perhaps the most unique case in this storyline, met up with Leomon after Mimi was captured and both of them have been traveling for some time. However, after finding an injured Ogremon and patching him up, he decides to take refugee in the nearby Village of Beginnings. With Elecmon’s help, he unintentionally builds a small community in the area similar to a small clinic to help Digimon recover. He’s hoping to gain information from nice Digimon passing by who knows the whereabouts of his friends. A part of him wants to leave and start searching, but he feels guilty about leaving the injured Digimon behind as there’s a huge amount of Digimon who needs help.

Finally, there’s Yamato and Gabumon. There’s little known about him and his partner ever since he left the group as they were fighting Pinocchimon. Most Digimon aren’t sure if they went rogue or if they opted out of fighting. Regardless, most Digimon are scared of the duo.

Edit: I found this in my drafts from writing this at five in the morning and thought I’d share. I hope to develop this idea further as this AU would hopefully contain all Ultimate evolutions and more world building of the Digital World.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Steal Away - Malleus

Author Notes: I wrote this fic a little while back and its just been gathering dust in my documents until now. I guess you could say this fic is a bit of a callback to simpler times pre-Diasomnia chapter, though it doesn't have to be specifically set at that time. This fic was written while I listed to the song “Steal Away” by Robbie Dupree. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ fluff/

Word Count: 979

I slipped quietly out of the front door and onto the porch of Ramshackle Dorm. My eyes quickly finding the shadowy figure that had drawn me out of my warm bed and into the chilled night.

Most people would probably be distressed by seeing a tall, horned figure out in their front yard in the dead of night. But I wasn’t concerned. After all, I happened to know the young man whose lilting humming currently filled the otherwise silent darkness quite well.

“Hornton,” He turned at the sound of my voice, bright green eyes widening slightly as he spotted me before he relaxed once more.

“Child of man, I wasn’t sure if I should expect you after you didn’t come out to greet me last time….”

And there it was. His signature pout. It was hard to believe that anyone could find this man terrifying when I was looking at him like this. Especially considering that he let me call him ‘Hornton’ of all things.

“Sorry about that… I guess I must’ve been really tired the other day,” His expression softened as I explained my absence from whenever his last visit had been.

There was a slight smile on his face as he tilted his head, “Is your daily toiling so great that you fall into such a deep slumber when the evening comes?”

I laughed slightly at his odd way of phrasing before shaking my head, “Well, Crowley and school together do keep me pretty busy, but I think I was just sleeping really well.”

His smile turned amused as he continued to gaze at me, “And what of tonight? Does sleep evade you, Child of Man?”

I blinked up at him before shrugging, “Maybe a little? I just saw you and wasn’t really that tired, so I came out to chat.” 

And it was true. Up until the moment I’d seen Malleus’s glistening faerie lights, I’d been curled up in bed listening to Grim’s soft snores, feeling totally incapable of falling asleep.

He hummed in response before turning to glance into the distance before looking back my way with a distinct frown, “It seems I shall not be staying long this evening.”

His pout had returned, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Sebek and Silver were no doubt out looking for him, and that meant he would either be returning to Diasomnia or giving them slip yet again.

I reached out, patting his arm affectionately as I grinned at him, amused by his sulking, “Hey, it’s okay. I doubt this will be your last evening escapade.”

His eyes widened in an almost comical fashion as he echoed me, “Escapade?” His gaze turned thoughtful, and he seemed to look past me, at some distant point of interest, before reaching a sudden decision.

A grin that I could only describe as evil crossed his pale face as he looked at me and held out a gloved hand, “A splendid idea, Child of man. Shall we steal away?”

I blinked up at him, startled and with widened eyes, before fumbling out a reply, “Wha- What?”

He chuckled, a low sound that, accompanied by his gleaming, unnaturally green eyes, made him both appear and sound distinctly villainous. 

Maybe I actually could understand why some of my classmates were wary of him. Just a little…

“An escapade. Would you like to come with me?” His explanation confirmed my suspicions. 

The great Malleus Draconia, heir to the throne of the Valley of Thorns, was asking me if I wanted to help him avoid his bodyguards and play hooky.

It was an impulsive decision, and I honestly wondered if Ace’s troublesome ways were beginning to influence me, but I found myself slipping my hand into his nonetheless, “Just for a bit, we don’t want to worry them too much.”

His grin was now positively devious as his fingers curled around my hand as if he were claiming some sort of prize, “They would be fine even if I stayed away all evening.”

I squeezed his hand slightly and grinned back at him as I teasingly scolded him, “Behave.”

He chuckled again before tugging me over towards him and wrapping an arm around me. I stumbled slightly but managed to catch myself against him before I looked up at him as the strangely firefly-like green lights began to float around us. A signal that he was just about to use his magic and teleport to some place.

In the distance, I could hear Sebek calling for his lord, but I ignored him in favor of questioning Malleus, “Where to?”

His gaze met mine, and he squeezed me ever so slightly in a half-hug before turning his bright-eyed gaze towards the sky with a truly villainous grin, “Where else? Into the night, of course.”

There was a floating sensation and flash, and then we were gone. Leaving the front yard of Ramshackle dorm empty as both knights came walking up. One, perfectly calm even as the other one agitatedly scanned the area.

“LORD MALLEUS?” Sebek’s yell shattered the silence of the night as Silver shook his head.

“It looks like they’ve already left,” His voice was distinctly tired sounding as he trailed off in a yawn that had Sebek looking at him irritably.

“Who are they? The only person I’m concerned with is Lord Malleus!” Silver sighed almost immediately at Sebek’s intonation before looking at him meaningfully.

“Malleus and Y/n. We should leave them be. Father said having friends was good for Malleus,” And with only those words, Silver turned and started to stroll away. Leaving a sputtering Sebek to follow him.

“Bu- But… A HUMAN?”

“Quiet Sebek. You won’t want to wake the ghosts like you did last time,” Silver hardly even missed a beat as he continued on his way. Leaving you to spend time with Malleus for as long as your shared escapade lasted.

[jiosoull]

POV: You look adorable and he needs to pet you. Now.

🐼

"What's the matter?" You finally asked him after noticing his restrained movements as you turned your head up at him. The dark, fluffy bangs covering his eyes made it hard to guess his normally aloof demeanor, but the way he had been fidgeting lately was enough to tickle your confusion.

"...It's nothing." He replied, although you noted the forced control in his strained tone while he acted nonchalant. You doubted him, eyeing him up and down.

He nearly took a step back at your narrowed gaze and stubbornly stayed silent, refusing to elaborate on his weird behaviour.

You lightly shrug in response, failing to realize that he was actually focusing on your hat. The panda hat... It looked too cute not to notice!

The knitted panda hat comforts you and it kept your head protected from the chilly day. Your hand patted the black, wooly ears after you readjusted it, completely oblivious to the tall man's inner struggle at your actions.

He gritted his teeth and clenched the fabric of his sweater in frustration. His pointy ears reddened slightly as he heavily fixated his gaze on your adorable knitted panda hat resting on your head.

By sheer impulse and an aggressive urge to express his feelings, he cleared his throat and grabbed your attention. Once he caught your gaze, his lips parted. Closing them awkwardly and grunted sharply in annoyance before he spoke up.

"May I... pet you?"

He muttered out hesitantly, his fingers trembling by his sides with a frown on his face. A flicker of emotions was shown on your face— bewilderment, thoughtful and finally understanding. A small realization and a small grin widened on you.

Without a word, you stepped closer to him and lowered your head, showing more of your knitted hat to him.

His breath hitched quietly at how easily you went along with his request, gulping dryly as he reached out to you slowly with a trembling hand.

You stood there patiently. Until a comforting warmth was laid on the top of your head. It moved carefully and gently as his big hand stroke your head. The soft wool beneath his palm sent a shiver down his spine as he imagined himself petting a real panda, and the sight of your knitted panda hat was encouraging it.

The two of you stayed there for quite a while, and you were stifling back your giggles as you watched his body trembling with excitement. His lips quivered at this tender moment and a small blush dusted his cheeks.

[welshoot]

Talent and Overblots: An Interesting Relationship

So I read an analysis about Leona and his overblot and it has gotten me to thinking and, only just realizing that talent is a bit of a theme for Twisted Wonderland. Or rather, talent in a more negative lighting than it is often portrayed in. 

Simply put, everyone who has overblotted is also talented and said talents (+ the side effects of being talented) really seem to be a large part of their trauma, stress, and varying issues that culminate in their overblot. I’m going to put the rest of the analysis under the cut for fear of any spoilers and due to length (and it is long), but this is something that is incredibly fascinating to me since this portrayal of talent is so wildly different from what is typically seen.

Starting with Overblot #1, Riddle is obviously talented. He became a housewarden in his first year, has an incredibly powerful signature spell, knows all the rules of Heartslabyul, and is a top student in a school filled to the brim with geniuses. We know from his overblot backstory that his mom held him to strict rules and pushed him too far, always demanding he be better than the best. Talented wasn’t enough. He had to be perfect. And that is, quite simply, what led to his overblot. He was holding others to that same horrifying strict regime. Talent isn’t enough, you must be perfect. But Riddle’s talent(s) is what made this drive for perfection truly frightening. That talent of his is what helped to lead to the pedestal that he (and others) placed himself on. And then his view was an incredibly simplistic, and even relatable one. If I can do it, so can they. But that viewpoint is what led  to  him pushing too far and breaking down when he realized exactly what he’d done. Ace quite possibly put it best when he informed Riddle that he was, “An extension of her”. Her, being Riddle’s mother. Realizing that he’d become that same tyrant, constantly pushing that talent wasn’t enough and you had to be perfect, was a big part of Riddle’s overblot. Because what is worse than becoming the very thing you’ve feared and toiled under since you were a child?

Leona is obviously talented. He is one of NRC’s geniuses, implied to be a very physically strong beastman, possesses an incredibly powerful signature spell, and has the cleverness to think his way out of any situation on top of the fact that he can power his way out of most problems due to his incredible persistence. But those talents were little more than weights around his neck when nothing he did mattered. He would never be king no matter what he did. But how much of Leona’s overblot was ever really being about king, when the crown that just the image that stuck with him? After all, the crown was the first thing that he was probably told he could never have no matter how talented he was. So kingship became a symbol of all he can never succeed in, despite his many talents. In the Savannaclaw chapter, story vignettes, and even in events people are constantly telling Leona that if he just tried he could do it. He is talented after all. And how much must that sting? You’re talented, and you have tried, but no matter what anyone tells you, it doesn’t seem to matter. The words of encouragement others give him are just like a slap in the face because failure keeps rearing its head. Thoughts like that can easily lead to or worsen depression and self-loathing. Especially when he gets his hope up once more that maybe he can do something, he keeps getting dragged back down, either by life’s machinations or his own occasionally self-destructive behavior. As a culmination of this, we find Leona exactly where he was in the Savannaclaw chapter. Failing once more and finally breaking apart as it occurs in front of those who have placed him as their head, the leader of their Pride. Not only has he failed himself, he has failed those who place their faith in him. To Leona, it no doubt looked like his greatest fears were true. Even with all of those talents, Leona feels worthless because he can’t succeed even once.

Azul is talented even if he himself doesn’t see it. Not many can say they have a successful restaurant business, and have hoodooed both the headmage and a good number of one’s fellow students at his age. Azul’s talent isn’t the one he wants though. He wants something more flashy and easily seen. Something that will make others not bother him. He never wants to be a silly little octotwerp who gets made fun of again. And, at this point, Azul can’t seem to see his knack for business for what it is. A talent. Being surrounded by so many obvious talents at NRC is bound to crush him, because everywhere he looks there is someone better than him in some way. So Azul gets greedy. He won’t let them make fun of him and look down on him like his previous classmates did. He can’t take that again. But then all of his carefully calculated actions come crashing down around him. Leona destroys his contracts and asserts, no less, that Azul has been beaten by a magicless prefect. And that is when Azul truly starts to crumble to pieces. He can’t even beat someone that he no doubt viewed, at that point, as a nobody. His actions turn desperate as he fears that Jade and Floyd, the two who’d actually taken a look at young Azul and saw talent there, are abandoning him because he’s been beaten at his own game. In Azul’s eyes, he has no talents, so why would they stay? All those feelings come racing back and Azul really does feel like a nobody. Just a silly little octotwerp even despite all his efforts. And so he overblots. Because obviously if you aren’t talented, then no one wants you and it doesn’t matter.

Jamil is talented in numerous ways and, unlike Azul, he knows it. But Jamil’s talents consistently get ignored or downplayed by everyone, even his own family. And it’s all because of the fact he works under another family so in the eyes of those around him, Jamil can’t and shouldn’t be better than Kalim. So he blames Kalim, even though he knows it isn’t Kalim’s fault that they were born in the positions they are in. Even though Kalim is someone who has always lavished praise on Jamil’s talents and never downplayed them. Even though Kalim is his friend. It’s too much. Because each time Kalim, the source of Jamil’s woe (at least in his eyes), praises him, it’s like a slap in the face. A reminder that even though you’re talented, you aren’t allowed to reach the full height of your abilities. All because of this fellow, who is your friend and greatest supporter. When Jamil’s grand scheme is foiled, it breaks him. It’s a hard hit to his ego and probably feels like yet another reminder that he can’t outdo Kalim. And, to top it all off, there’s the guilt. Because like it or not, Jamil knows it’s not Kalim’s fault because Kalim, for all that he doesn’t understand or realize about their situation, would never put Jamil in the situation that he has found himself in. And so Jamil overblots. His talents don’t matter because he isn’t allowed to show them. He’s restrained, and all of that frustration is suddenly coming out.

Next is Vil, whose troubles are so curiously (and perhaps amusingly) similar to Leona’s. Because for all of Vil’s talent as an actor, he can’t get the role he so desperately longs for. To be the hero, standing on stage till the very end where people will notice him. But it is Vil’s talent (and beauty) that weighs him down and makes people speak of how special he is. And isn’t special so similar to being unrelatable? So talented is he, so special is he, so unrelatable is he, that he must be the villain. Because no one wants a hero that seems so otherworldly, perfectly beautiful and talented. No, they want a hero they understand. A more relatable type of attractiveness, a more mundane level of skill. A villain is, as Vil’s dad asserts in the overblot flashback, a hard role to play. But Vil knows that it’s also the role everyone hates. No one wants to be the bad guy. And how often do people actually pay attention to the villain? Everyone’s eyes are on the star of the show, the good guy. Getting typecast because of his talents is a big part of what leads to Vil’s overblot. He is so weighed down by how inescapable the role of villain seems that he quite literally becomes a villain. And, mirroring Riddle, the realization that he has become that thing he so loathes and maybe even fears is what causes his overblot. The golden child that he was has finally fallen and become mired in the hideous filth that remains when one’s talent becomes a set of shackles that makes you ‘special.’

Idia is, like the others, talented. But interestingly he seems to loathe his talent just as much as he loathes a crowd. Despite his amazing technological achievements, Idia doesn’t want the recognition of fame that comes from his talents. In many ways, he almost behaves like he wants to be free of his talents. As if that talent is a chain. And perhaps it is, that talent makes him well-suited to the position he was born into is yet another chain that binds him to the Island of Woe. His wishes don’t matter. Idia is doomed to his position by both his family name and his talents. The stress of such a truth paired his past with Ortho’s death, and the constant reminder that he is at fault for it (or so he constantly tells himself) is what causes his overblot. Because at least this way, maybe Idia can use his talents once more to do something he wants. To save his brother, and atone for what he has done.

Finally, there is Malleus. Another individual with undeniable talent. Someone who is already listed amongst the most powerful of magicians and who comes from a long line of talented people. But Malleus’s talent, skill, and power for magic is what causes others to fear him, worship him, and avoid him. No one wishes to approach someone so fearsome and talented, because how could they? He is a royal who seems so far beyond them, they cannot comprehend such talent and power. Surely he is beyond them. And when they can’t understand him, perhaps it is better to fear him. It’s only natural to fear that which we can’t understand, so that is what happens to Malleus and his incomprehensible power. The isolation that stems from other’s fear and misunderstandings leads Malleus to do what is only natural. To cling to those few people that remain near him. Those who don’t fear him and instead accept him. And that isolation, paired with the need to cling onto those precious few while all others continue to stare at him in awed horror, is what contributes so greatly to his overblot. Because if those few leave him, what does he have left in his ivory tower of talent?

Anyway, I just find it fascinating that Twisted Wonderland has portrayed the darker side of talent and how it can lead to so many issues for those that hold it. Talent is a blessing in many ways, but there are two sides to every coin and it appears that talent can just as easily be a curse in the wrong situation.

[definitelynottony]

Could you do starkercest? But fem!peter? 🥺 pls?

Her there nonny. Fem!Peter isn't something I've done before, but I gave it a shot because you asked so nicely~

TW: Female Peter, incest (Daddy x daughter)

Tony thought he's been a good father. He's spoiled his baby girl rotten over the years, sure, but she's perfect. And when she gives him those big bambi eyes, like hell he'd ever say no to her. Except when it comes to boys.

"Daddy! Everyone else has a date, why can't I? There was at least three guys that already asked me to the dance!"

"Because, princess, you're not old enough to date yet." That has been Tony's excuse for the last four years. It's even getting old to his own ears.

"That's bullshit and you know it! I'm seventeen, Dad! Most of my class have been dating since they were twelve!"

"I'm sorry you're going to school with a bunch of heathens, but i'm raising my little girl with some class. You can date when I'm dead!"

"But that'll take forever!!!"

"Brat." Tony rolled his eyes at her.

"Meanie!" Parker pouted out to her Dad. Tony can't stand that.

"Come on, tesoro. Don't be like that. Daddy bought you that pretty dress you wanted, bought you all new makeup, and you're going to go get your hair done. Why do you need a boy bringing you down when you're going to be the bell of the ball?"

Parker's eyes started to shine with tears. She was good... too damn good. She knows how to play her Dad's heartstrings. Crying, without fail, always got her what she wanted. She learned that by age five. Tony never had the heart to say no.

"Parker Maria Stark. Do not cry over a boy. I taught you better than that."

"Who am I going to slow dance with, Daddy? I'll look like a loser... everyone already thinks I'm weird."

Tony pulled his little girl into a tight hug. "No one thinks that, baby. You're the prettiest girl in that whole school."

"You have to say that! You're my dad."

"I'm also a man. I know what I'm talking about."

Parker's face flushed at that comment. She turned away and pouted, trying to hide her face. Tony saw it, though. Felt it. How his little girl clenched her thighs... he's just a man. God. A lonely man with a gorgeous seventeen year old daughter. These intrusive thoughts aren't the first time they came to the old man.

Honestly, they've been happening more and more. Even more sinful after Tony saw what his little girl bought herself with her Daddy's credit card. Tony had to dig a bit. Had to threaten the company with the fact that they sold over a five hundred dollars worth of products to a minor. But it was worth it. To see all the lingerie that now sits in his little girls dresser. The dildos and vibrators she's hiding under her bed.

Yeah. There's no way he's letting his little girl with an awakening sexual appetite go off with a teen boy. Tony was a teen boy at one point. He knows how they are. What they want. The only thing they want. The joke is that thing doesn't go away with age. When he's holding his little girl like this, thinking about what she might be thinking about... okay. He should probably let go now.

"Daddy?" Parker asks in a shy voice as her Dad let go of her and stepped back.

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Why don't you want me to have a boyfriend? You know, statistically, kids with strict rules tend to do worse things when they're legal..."

"Are you threatening me, princess?" Tony's face gets serious. Eyes small in a glare, eyebrow cocked.

"All I'm saying is if I don't get to date boys my own age now, maybe I'll end up dating an older man next year when I go off to college." She shrugs.

"Excuse me? You will do no such thing. You're my child, you'll follow my rules."

"No! If I want to go date a forty year old when I turn eighteen in a few months, I will! And you can't stop me!"

Tony's never felt this possessive before. He sees red when he grabs his girl by the wrist and pulls her in against him. When he growls out, "if you're so desperate for a man to fuck you, sweetheart, let Daddy show you exactly what you're asking for."

He might not win "father of the year award," especially after this. But he made his little girl scream and pass out after her third orgasm and you know, that's enough for him.

[disastersteps]

mans i wonder how mortum get to hear anita playing guitar for the first time. julia had always knew and points out that they can sing which mortum scoffs, doesn't believe it because if anything aoyun had said had before, especially "oh no, i don't sing that much." to be from anita themself.... she would've assumed that maybe anita's bad at it.

but anita looks sheepishly and julia encourages them.

"dont laugh." was anita's warning and mortum feel amused at that.

"bring it on, cheri mwen." she teases, smiling, and thinking that she doesnt care that anita sing bad. but her smile drops slightly, her eyes widen in shock and surprise as anita begin to play the guitar.

and their voice.

for all the talking, the discussing, the laughing, the sacrastic comments, the everything.

they sing so beautiful.

and julia nudges mortum's shoulder with a "told you so."

and mortum is. simply. frankly. stunned. loss of science.

if you told her a few years ago that a regene could sing beautifully, she have to believe its artificial. they are trained. but here in the living room, watching someone who sings so differently from what she had thought to be artificially and a case of 'i'm bad at it.

and absolutely not of these fits anita.

mortum is smitten. she had always been with anita, but she truly, very, and just warm in her chest to hear it lovingly.