#or my friend canceled the lobby briefly and the game let him go. leaning toward the latter

[picorimori]

the crazy thing about this big run is that I'll see so many snatchers with eggs flying towards the egg basket and so many people will shoot them down far from the basket. they are literally doing our work for us if you let them !!!!!!!!

[harfanfare]

I saw this post and I was wondering if you write Malleus' too, is okay for you to make that?

How to win a heart of Malleus Draconia?

a/n: I started posting my writings here because I want to improve my English — so I technically wouldn't make this request. But! Someone on Wattpad (where I take requests) asked for the same thing, so I rolled up my sleeves and wrote this guide today in both languages. Enjoy~

1. Don't be afraid of him.

It is said that the first impression is the most important.

So when you first saw this guy walking through the corridor of Diasomnia, it was hard for you to get rid of that view from your head.

Illuminated both by the green magic flames set in the lobby, as well as by the moon, which eventually managed to break through the dark clouds and with a bright glow appear in the windows of the dormitory, he seemed... lonely and beautiful.

You shuddered as you took a step down the hallway and the dark-haired man turned to you. He measured you with his emerald eyes. And then you recognized him; all the conversations about the mysterious and fearsome Malleus Draconia flew through your head.

Everything told you to rush towards the hallway and run as far as possible, but a piece of you found it inappropriate. Or rather, no one would want to chase everyone away from themself... right?

When you realized you were looking at him for a while, you took a deep breath and nod slightly.

"Good evening, Draconia-san," you said quickly. After a while you added, "The moon is beautiful today, don't you think?”

 2. Smile a lot.

Today was a really wonderful day: the test was postponed, your favorite dish was given in the canteen, and for some reason, the last two lessons were canceled – your class had to make just a quick note about a topic and it took less than fifteen minutes.

"Something happened?" Malleus asked, seeing how almost in the jumps you walk past him. When you looked at him, he added, "You smile a lot.”

"I can stop smiling if you want," you made a sad face, but after a while, the corners of your mouth began to tremble uncontrollably and twisted up again. "Oops, I can’t. Today... it was such a good day... that I think I'm slowly using my life's happiness.”

"I didn't say that smiling is bad," he said. "You look so much better when you smile.”

"Oh," you sighed with apparent surprise. "Is it a compliment?"

"It’s rather a fact..?"

 3. From time to time visit him during club activities.

"Is this a class of the ‘Gargoyle research society club’?” with a deaf knock you opened the door. Malleus turned to you, making a break from browsing through the materials gathered in the library about the history of each of the gargoyles on the school grounds. And there were a lot of them.

"Yes," he replied briefly, getting up. "Do you need something, [Name]?"

"Not at all, my club don’t have a meeting today," you said, closing the door behind you.

You looked around: the room was as clean as ever, except for one desk, where were laid several huge volumes about statues in NRC.

“Are you here alone?” You said before you thought. You lowered your eyes to see Malleus nodding unconcerned slightly. You blinked several times trying to think of what else you could say. "This room... could be a secret base," that was the first thing that came to your mind. Malleus turned his head to one side, uncertain of your response.

“A secret base..? Why?”

"I have no idea," you admitted quickly. "But the very existence of a mysterious point is interesting, isn't it? Doing normal things, such as watching movies or just talking, seems more interesting in places like this,” After a moment of silence, you sighed. "You know what, this idea with the base is stupid”

"We can try," he replied with serious tone. You raised your eyes to see how he looked around the room. "But you'll just have to explain this idea to me in more detail. We can also tell Lilia, Silver and Sebek about it...” he smiled as if seeing your five together in his thoughts was a pleasure. "It will be surely... fun.”

 4. Get yourself a Tamagotchi.

"Look!" you spin a new key chain on your finger. You finally stopped and showed it to Malleus. "Now they are matching!”

A small electronic toy, in a dark green screen that, when it flashed, showed a virtual, pixelated animal. You were impressed with how good quality it was made, especially since you only gave the Shroud brothers a sketch of a toy that Malleus owned.

Your keychain was exactly the same, just a different color and with another pet.

Malleus pulled out his own device and put it on the table. He pressed one of the buttons and a small pet appeared on the keychain – a dragon.

"They can now be friends," you brought your toy closer to so-called Gao-Gao Dragon-kun.

"Do you think so?" He asked in a very surprised tone, but it sounded as if in a moment he were about to burst out with an inexplicably joyful and surprised laugh.

"Of course. Everyone needs a decent friend, no?”

 5. Gain the trust of Lilia, Silver and Sebek.

Lilia, one of Malleus' closest people. It is much more likely that you will meet him before Malleus. He will be very proud when he learns that Malleus has found a friend. If you become a taster of Lilia, in terms of his pastries, he will 100% like you, and at 20% you will leave the kitchen alive and well.

Silver, who has mastered the art of sleeping in any conditions. It's easy to get him into your plans, although with the craziest ones he will hesitate. Rather well-disposed towards everyone, he can cover for you when you are not in class— but he usually inadvertently falls asleep and both of you often have penal assignments after school.

Sebek, faithful to Malleus, if he doesn't like you, you won't have too many opportunities to stay by Malleus's side without a thunderous glances at you. He will recognize you if you will listen carefully to his monologues about his master and as a sign of your friendship, he will teach you by heart of all the titles and achievements of Malleus so far.

With this trio by your side, you can get a lot further than you might have imagined...

 6. Be a master in hide and seek.

You’d give your right arm that your breath was too loud.

You pressed your hands to your mouth as you crouched in the corner of the room.

From whose voices you already heard, you knew that Lilia had already found Sebek. This meant that you or Silver would still be helping cook dinner since Malleus didn’t come at the start of the game.

This may seem silly, but the ability to play classic games was one of the elements of the art of survival in Diasomnia.

It was thanks to games like ‘stone-paper-scissors’, hide and seek or tag that household chores fell on the shoulders of the losers. Lilia loved the idea, and there was always a proud smile on his lips when he saw his beloved children play together.

You heard the steps behind you and shivered.

Very slowly you turned around and looked up to see Malleus standing over you and wondering what you were doing, crouching in the darkest corner of the room.

Puns were also included in the survival pack.

Fearing that Lilia would hear your whisper, you put your finger on your mouth, asking him not to say a word. You put a begging eye into it – all but not cooking with Lilia. Not again.

Malleus nodded, recognizing the gravity of the situation, although he smiled.

Really, no one would want Malleus to be an enemy.

Or at least in such a situation.

 7. Do not hesitate to ask him for help with learning.

"In theory, you should focus on the space around you," Malleus pulled a wand in front of him. It flashed, and almost at the same time, a thin but incredibly strong protective barrier was created around him. “Weaker spells can be reflected. In turn, the stronger ones are better to block”

You nodded understandingly.

Defensive magic was not something easy to understand. Most depended on the person against whom the counter spell was being prepared. And there are countless people who walk on this Earth and want to start fights.

"Unique spells block or avoid physically," he continued. You nodded at every subsequent sentence, slowly feeling like all the lessons are eventually gaining transparency. “Using unique magic against unique magic, the stronger will win, both will lead to explosions or completely reduce.

He looked at you when you wrote down the last sentence in your notebook.

"I sincerely hope that you will only need this information in class," he said with a sigh. "If you need help, call me. I will come. I promise.”

 8. Sometimes be persuaded to wear extravagant clothes.

"Do you really think it suits me?" you turned around, looking at yourself from every possible angle in the mirror.

You were going to the theater in a few classes to see some era-related play that you've been discussing now in history lessons. Everyone, respecting the reputation, actions and achievements of theatre, dressed in their best clothes.

Malleus stood next to you.

He was already wearing a black and white outfit with green accessories. They all worked so well together and fitted him like a glove that you were sure that the whole outfit was made especially for him.

"Yes," he replied. "Everything you put on today suited you very well.”

Once again, with critical eyesight, you looked at the outfit, face and hair, before you quickly turned off the lights in the room and closed the door behind you.

Then you smiled at Malleus.

"We can go now," you said. You made your way through the portal to the main NRC building. "And... thank you for your help.

"My pleasure," he said. Under no circumstances was it just a polite formula. He really loved looking at you.

 9. Invite him to your birthday/party.

"Another break from school soon, huh?" — you muttered, leaning against the railing.

You took a deep breath and let the fresh, pleasant air refresh you.

"Are you going to home, [Name]?" Malleus asked. Green lights were still flying around him, so you guessed he’d just appeared here.

"I haven't decided yet," you sighed. "It would be nice to go home, but the break won't be very long... Ah, that's right!” you straightened up and turned to him. "How about spending another break together? As soon as I can, I will contact my family... although I cannot promise anything.”

Though he did not show it, Malleus' heart beat a little faster.

Spend free time? With someone? With someone he likes?

"Of course," he sounded less calm than he thought. He wasn’t often invited anywhere, even for the things he should have been on, so there was a lot of excitement growing in his body. "I don't see anything against it.”

 10. From "The Great Malleus Draconia-sama" to "Love".

"Ah, The Great Malleus-sama!" you sighed theatrically, taking from him a box of chocolates with a joyful smile. You could promise that because of this dark-haired boy here, you slowly become pampered. "Thank you for your generosity!”

Malleus frowned.

"The Great Malleus-sama"..?” he pondered, putting his fingers to his chin. "Did Sebek told you again to call me with this title?"

"No," you laughed softly at his reaction. "I did it out of curiosity. Maybe I could call you some cute nickname, hmm?" you smiled mischievously.

"For example?"

"By adding ‘-chan’ to your name?” you turned on your phone and typed something related to the nicknames. You started reading suggestions and struggled to hold back from laughing. ” ’Sunshine’, ‘star’, ‘flower’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘love’...

"I like the last one," he said, and the invisible force stung you to the ground.

"Would you like me to call you like that? Out of curiosity or out of love?" You laughed, but your cheeks were all red with blushes.

He smiled sincerely at your reaction.

"Hmm, I wonder..?"

[padawantimelord]

A Painting Speaks a Thousand Words (Bucky X Reader)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warnings: detailed paintings featuring gore, mentions of abuse and mental illness. Eventual smut in later chapters. Rate: Mature Summary: You are an artist who likes to show the darker side of humanity. Bucky comes to your school’s art show and is drawn to your paintings.

You curse as the putty refuses to unstick from your fingers. As you finally manage to smear the devil stuff onto a piece of cardboard, you could <em>feel</em> several layers of skin peel off along with it. You were well past the point of caring, as you were seriously considering amputating those fingers after ten minutes of picking. Victoriously, you stick the small figure cutout of Captain America onto the welcome sign.

“Ah, good, you’re done,” a caramel skinned girl sidles up next to you, looking over your accomplishment, “But the coloring could be better.”

“Cosema, I’ve been working on this since three in the morning. Get out of my face,” you respond teasingly.

Cosema a nudges you playfully, “It really looks great. Thanks for stepping in for Sammi.”

“Sammi can screw herself right in the ass,” You grumble, “She had two weeks to figure something out. You can’t last minute cancel with nothing done.” You begin to set your brushes aside to be washed before putting them away, then move onto your tubs of acrylic paint. Your joints crack in a thousand places and you have to shake your foot awake.

“True. But hey, look on the bright side!” Cosema cheerfully says as she helps you wash out your jars of paint water, “One less person means more time for us to be with Captain America.” She sighs dreamily, “Have you seen his butt in that spandex?”

You roll your eyes. Cosema has a fantasy revolving around seducing and then marrying the Star Spangled American Icon. It started off as an inside joke at first, but then it grew like a tumor, and now she’s obsessed with him. Just reading her self-insert smutty fan fiction can make your average porn star blush.

“Captain American can wait. I need a caffeine boost.” You retort as you slide your paint tubs back onto the shelf. You know that Cosema can almost spiritually divine any coffee shop within an eight mile radius. She senses it in her soul, the way animals can sense tsunamis.

“There’s a Starbucks around the corner,” Cosema states as you throw your paint splattered apron onto the rack. The two of you climb the winding stairs, exiting the art museum’s basement and entering the lobby. Cosema’s heals click pleasantly against the pale marble floors, the entire lobby decorated in a flawless white. Even the abstract art behind the receptionist desk is white, more of a textured wall then actual art. The security guards smile at you both as you leave the building through the large revolving doors, something that the child in you always enjoys.

Within a few moments Cosema had led you to your special haven. You resist the urge to fight the people in line so you could go first, but just barely. Once it’s your turn, you and Cosema order and then head to the Student Center inside the Art Museum. “T minus two hours and counting,” Cosema says after checking her phone, “Nervous yet?”

You smile, “Wait for the caffeine to kick in.

:-:

The crowd thickens as all the VIPs came in. The lure of Captain America would have attracted 90 percent of the country, so the management created a strict invitation-only party. It is absolutely fantastic, because that means that representatives from all the best art guilds on the east coast are here. That means that eighty potential bosses are here. That means steady job for a good future. The entire room goes dead silent as your professor comes in, followed by the good old Captain himself. Everyone stares, yourself included. He is gorgeous, though you don’t see where Cosema’s obsession comes from. You absently glance over in her direction to see how she’s doing. Her eyes are almost boggling out of her skull, looking like she’s on the edge of a panic attack.

You almost don’t notice the red haired woman in a pantsuit and a well dressed man with a five o'clock shadow walking behind Captain America. Two hang back in the crowd as he steps up onto the stage and approaches the podium. He taps the microphone, and for a moment you think he’s… nervous? But then the moment is gone and he looks as confident as ever.

“Uh, hi,” Steve Rodgers clears his throat, the everyone crowding around him. As soon as the man opens his mouth, everyone in the room is equal, from the poorest student looking for a big break to the east coast’s most elite, “I don’t usually speak at events like this- I usually do military graduations. However, Mr. Stark decided it was a time for a change in pace, so here I am,” he smiles and you can practically hear Cosema’s panties hit the floor. “Now I’m not exactly an art expert, but from my humble opinion, these paintings and sculptures are good, really good. These kids have serious talent, and there is no reason they shouldn’t be walking out of this building without five job offers. I personally can not wait to see where each artist in this room takes their careers, I am absolutely sure that they accomplish amazing things. "Now I’m not really one for speeches, so… everyone have a fantastic night. Please enjoy yourselves as much as I know so will. Thank you all for coming.”

After the applause, you wink at Cosema, then take your place by your setup. Since you are closer to the front, a wave of people immediately flock towards you. You put on your game face and greet them all individually. Some of them take as little time as necessary to look over your things, others take a brief interest and then begin gravitating towards the more cheerful paintings. You tried not to take it personally, your art isn’t exactly for the faint of heart. You try to explain your theme as clearly as possible so they understand, and some people do in fact do another take.

“The things most people don’t like talking about, death, depression, anxiety, etc. I try to recreate those feelings-” you trail off as people glide away, and flush when you realized that they were talking to your neighbor artist.

You turn around, looking for someone new to seduce with your darkness, but no one has come by… however… someone caught your attention. He had been quietly walking to each of your paintings, taking long periods of time to painstakingly observe them. You recognize him as as one of Steve Rodger’s buddies.

“H-hello,” You say, the tentatively approaching him. Famous or no, he was one of the few people who actually <em>looked</em> at your paintings, you need his honest opinion. Kicking the butterflies out of your stomach, you add, “Enjoying tonight?”

He turns to look at you, and you drink in his appearance. Just saying his eyes were a blue-gray would be spitting on your career as an artist. They weren’t just…. gray. Imagine a glacier slowly melting in the spring, streams of water trickling down a cliff side. The water finally comes to rest in a pool on the edge of a forest, sun beating down, layers of gray and silver pebbles surrounding the shore. His eyes are a paradise, a paradise you are willingly drowning in.

“Your work-” His voice snaps you out of your daydream, “It’s very… um, dark.” He pauses, looking for words, “What makes you want to paint… things like that?”

You smile faintly, turning to look over the painting he’s currently at. Speak no Evil, you call it. A girl with dead eyes faces the viewer. Her auburn hair frames her face in dirty strings, her skin smudged with dirt and bruises. Her mouth is sewed shut with seven black stitches, the loose thread leading to a hand holding a needle. The body of the hand and arm is unseen, but it’s clear that it belongs to an adult.

“I want to show people the darker side of humanity,” you say softly, “I want to make people feel what my subjects are feeling. And maybe change how people view abuse and mental disease.” You turn to him, and he’s staring right at you with a burning intensity, “People haven’t been abused have a hard time understanding why abuse victims don’t speak out. I want them to see that the kind of mental hold the abusers have on their victims.”

He nods, almost eagerly, in understanding of what you say. You relax considerably. He looks back at the oil painting for a few more minutes with new eyes, and you could see the empathy pouring from him. He breaks away from the painting almost hesitantly, moving on to the next.

“Seven Devils,” He reads the nameplate out loud. The woman in the painting is facing the sky, her face screaming in agony. Seven hands are grabbing her, their nails scratching gashes into her skin, leaving trails of blisters in their wake. You wonder briefly if you went overboard with this one, the details in it are incredibly fine. You think that people probably don’t want to see close ups of horrifying injuries. He turns to you and asks, “What does this one mean?”

“It could mean several things. Anxiety. Schizophrenia. Maybe even depression,” You open your mouth to explain it in more detail, but he’s already nodding in agreement.

“I see it.”

The room quiets as more people finish going to the gallery and begin to get hammered down in the reception hall. Even some of the other artists have already begun to trickle out the exit to disappear for the night. You take this time to study him a little harder. His hair is kind of shaggy, but a well-kept kind of shaggy that was beginning to grow on you. And oh, to any gods listening, his arms. You are standing at a respectful distance but you can feelthose biceps. It takes all of your self control not to let your eyes wander past his waistline. “Hey!” Cosema surprises you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, “Friend. Comrade. Pal. Buddy… um, Amigo…”

“What layer of hell do I need to pull you out of?” You interrupt her before she runs out of synonyms.

“Not me,” She nervously leans in and says, “Gabriel got a little tipsy and spilled tamper paint all over the basement studio.” “He didn’t.” You choke, trying not to burst out laughing. You never liked Gabriel much, always so full of himself. “How?”

“Knocked the bottle off the shelves. It burst open everywhere as soon as it hit the floor.” She glances over at the mysterious stranger (he is your mysterious stranger, you decide), then adds, “Please help.”

“No way,” You scoff, “He can take care of it himself.”

Cosema closes her eyes and huffs, adjusting her straight ebony ponytail impatiently, “If Professor Crabapple finds out, she’ll make him replace all the damaged stuff without giving him a chance to clean it up.”

“And?”

“Just come with me, please.” It isn’t a request, it’s a demand.

You point to your mysterious stranger and say, “I’ll be down in a sec. Just let me finish up here.”

Cosema smiles brightly at you and heads to the basement stairwell, leaving you with him. Before you turn back to him, you notice that the gallery is almost completely empty, with only two other people at the opponent end of the room.

“I’m really sorry, but I need to go.” You smile apologetically, “But I really enjoyed our talk. I’m truly happy that you like my art.”

His beautiful eyes are sad, you notice just now. Have they always been that way or is this a brand new development? He nods in understanding, his right hand fidgeting nervously. He’s acting as though this is the most conversation he’s had in awhile. You turn finally to leave when-

“Ca-can I talk to you some more? Later?”

You do a 180 to face him. A grin spreads across your face as you reach into your pocket to retrieve a pen. Slowly, careful not to startled him, you reach for the hand that’s not shoved into his pocket and scribble your phone number onto his palm. As an afterthought, you add a little heart at the end.

“What’s your name?” You ask. He pauses for a moment.

“James.” He finally says, a brief hint of a smile on his lips.