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😠 Everything You Wanted | Leona Kingscholar & Malleus Draconia

>> requested: no >> a/n: i was listening to we hug now by sydney rose..

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: leona and malleus both cant see what the other one can >> reader prns: n/a >> warning(s): none

Leona is jealous of Malleus. He can't stand his stoic demeanor and how he can't be bothered to treat everyone else like they're even remotely human. How Malleus treats everyone else, how he treats Leona like they're just specks of dirt and he's the sun. He envies how people trail after him like he was everything they aren't.

He thinks every day about how he's always one-upped by someone else. When he first got into NRC, Leona didn't think that he would be a 20-year-old third-year who could care less about graduating. He thought he would soar, finally getting out from the shadow his older brother cast over him. He didn't.

Meeting Malleus was Leona's greatest downfall, second only to being born. The first, second, and third time they dueled, Leona still somewhat believed in himself. After that, he only fought because of the bitterness he had.

He wishes he was as strong as Malleus;

Malleus doesn't understand Leona. He doesn't understand how someone could fight for themselves for so long. He's confused at how people could still want to be around him, despite being irritable all the time. He's jaundiced by how people can bear his attitude, and how people aren't as scared of him than they are of him. He's bitter that those same people will grow and laugh with him.

He still remembers their first encounter like it was yesterday. He was still seventeen, and yet Leona was not. Looking upon his young features for the first time, he was confused by how someone so young looking was so strong. Fighting him was slightly amusing for Malleus; he's dealt with worse, and yet found this entertaining. It wasn't a bad fight, it was decently matched, but he would end up winning. He always did.

The next year, when he looked at Leona for more than a minute, he noticed the differences. The hair length, the crease in his brow, the frown grazing his lips, the entourage that followed him. And the year after that, the cortège this time with even more people. When the year after that hit, and Malleus was still there, but so was Leona, he was confused. He had spark, or at the very least a drive. He'd overhear the talk and concern from teachers about Leona. The humanity was lost on him.

He wishes he was as human as Leona.

>> twst taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @strawberry-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @wisteriainslumber | @villaim | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @ezr4n | @l1vyatan | @savanaclaw1996 | @enigmatic-pers | @queerlordsimon | @kyraxiyn | @rayisalive | @ravenlking | @nem0-nee | @cupids-chamber

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𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊

a/n: back again for ur monthly scheduled smaus!! merry christmas to all who celebrate (ig this post is like a lil early gift or sum lol)

when you're asking for a favour

incl: Malleus Draconia, Idia Shroud, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit

cross-crye © 2024

no reposting, stealing, copying, translating or feeding my works into AI

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

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Hey umm, what the fuck???

Ig i know where all this year's luck went?

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BRO JUST TURNED GREEN WHAT

THERES DIFFERENT COLORS???

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:)))

THERES DIFFERENT COLORS???

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𝖚𝖑𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖗𝖎𝖟𝖟

(funny tittle for a silly, lighthearted smau!!)

a/n: i'm back again baby!! if there's any spelling mistake pretty please pretend they aren't there and the formatting needs some work but shh, my phonecase makes it impossible to take screenshots so this was the best i could do

or where pickup lines get used and romance might blossom?

inc: Azul Ashengrotto; Epel Felmier; Ruggie Bucchi; Deuce Spade

cross-crye © 2024.

no reposting, stealing, copying, translating my works or feeding them to AI

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

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👟 Casual | Ace Trappola x Reader x Deuce Spade

>> requested: definitely not >> a/n: this post made me so fucking sad

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: your casual relationship with ace and deuce >> reader prns: they/them >> warning(s): none.

was it casual when he thought of me during his trip home and got me something

was it casual when we were described as never seen without each other

was it casual when him and i ran back to nrc to save you from jamil

was it casual when we all met through arguments but became best friends less than halfway through the school year

was it casual when he made a crude nickname for me but it turned into an affectionate one

was it casual when i asked to sleep on your couch when i got kicked out

was it casual when you saved us from azul's mind control contracts

was it casual when i had a breakdown in front of you over eggs

was it casual when i forgot that you have to go back to your home world

was it casual when we were best friends through out the entirety of school and yet we saw each other as more.

>> ace and deuce taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @strawberry-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @wisteriainslumber | @villaim

@pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin

@ezr4n | @l1vyatan | @savanaclaw1996 | @enigmatic-pers

@queerlordsimon | @kyraxiyn | @rayisalive | @monochromepalette

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𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙

TW: some graphic descriptions of pain and just result of overblot violence?? idrk how else to phrase it

hurt/comfort

wc: 2.2k

first person pov; reader is yuu

vil schoenheit x reader; takes place after book 5

also on Ao3 -> read here

"To be loved is to be changed" is a saying I heard rather often back in my world, but hadn't quite grasped the meaning of until recently.

I mean, just how can some half baked gestures of affection and an possibly faked fondness truly change a person?

Or at least that's what I used to think.

And all I have to thank for changing my mind is him.

――――

Initially, I couldn't have imagined how life could become any worse. Just how can you top being transported to another universe with no hope of finding a way home? The crushing feeling of despair that comes with the prospects of having to come to terms with such a predicament outright suffocates any figment of positivity you could hope to grasp.

Then the overblots started.

And that was so much worse than anything I could have imagined. I never knew what it was like to choke on the same air you breathe just because the blot in your immediate vicinity was so thick, that it had even started building a layer inside your lungs due to the continued inhalation. I never knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of magic so unrestrained and powerful that I felt its impact on the bones inside my body, even before they were finished breaking. And all I can wish for is to forget those feelings.

I wish I can forget the fear and desperation that controlled my body during Riddle's overblot. I wish I could've done something to actually help. While I couldn't have possibly been expected to be able to deal with the situation, sometimes I still felt guilty about it. First time (and supposedly only) I’d witnessed an overblot and all I could think of was how bad I had felt for riddle. While at the time I didn't quite like him much and we certainly weren't friends, and I had no obligation towards him, I couldn't help but feel guilty. I was complaining at having been a victim of an overblot but couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of pain he’d been in when that thing took over his bodily autonomy. Did he choke on his own blot? Did his bones break and shift as the blot expanded and changed his body? Did he still remember what he did while in that form controlled and erased his will?

After Riddle’s overblot I started to go to Coach Vargas outside of classes in order to learn some basic self defence tehniques.

Then the spelldrive tournament came round. And I went through the worst experience of my life a second time.

I wish I can forget the way in which I lost touch with my senses during Leona's overblot. Despite being more prepared to deal with it that time around I remained virtually useless. I could barely see through the thick cloud of swirling sand. Even though I desperately wish I could forget, I still remember how I could feel the rough sand scratching at the back of my neck as I spoke, hoping to talk Leona down that ledge. Again I had found myself feeling bad for the house warden. I wouldn't say I pitied him, as any student at NRC would be too prideful to do anything but take offence to such a claim, but rather that I felt dismay in his place. I once again felt haunted by questions I shouldn't have been asking myself. How did Leona live with the guilt of almost ending Ruggie's life? Did he even feel such a thing?

After Leona's overblot I started to spend my weekends learning first aid.

Then my idiot friends got wrapped up in Octavinelle's ‘deal with the devil’ sort of crap. And dragged me down with them.

I wish I could forget how suffocation feels. But I cant. Sometimes I wake up feeling like those tentacles are still wrapping around me and squeezing around my neck until my airway closes. Sometimes I still feel as if all it takes is the tiniest of pressure and my bones will break. Seems it didn’t matter to the Great Seven just how desperate I was to forget, I couldn't shake the feeling of drowning in somebody else's blot. Unsurprisingly, I had begun to feel bad for Azul as well. I could empathise with him, which made it all the worse as I could, for once, truly tell just how little I'd help him. The questions followed once again. Seems like my own thoughts would damn me if they could. Seeing as how I ended up almost drowning in his blot; Did Azul breathe through it? Did he, in all three of his (alleged) hearts not hold a shred of guilt for what he'd done to me? And to so many another? Did he know how many potions I had taken to fix my crushed rib cage? And if he did, why did he refuse to address it and pretend as if nothing happened?

After Azul's overblot, I found myself visiting the Octavinelle pool every so often, practising both my swimming and holding my breath. (The offer to access the pool undisturbed was an indirect bribe from Azul to buy my silence about the picture)

Then the winter break rolled around and I had thought I finally got a break. Only I was wrong.

I wish I could forget what it felt like to be stripped of my own free will. My stay in Scarabia was the most terrifying thing I had faced. Living where I had lived, I was terrified of loosing my freedom. It was the only thing money couldn't buy. So when I was controlled so easily and forced to act unlike myself and against my wishes I was stuck inside my own mind accompanied by a terror unlike anything I could've imagined. This was why Jamil was the one with whom I’d struggled the most to patch things up with and why he was the one it took the most time to be open to trust again. Despite all this I still felt bad for him. It was undoubted that life had dealt him a bad hand of cards that he sure wasn't going to win any poker games with. (Unless he's the smartest person at the table and fools everyone with a good bluff; But life isn't poker and the only way you win is by getting a good hand or cheating) I just had to wonder about him too. Did he feel any better when he overblotted? Did it finally grant him the freedom he craved? Could he remember the feeling of finally being the one to hold the power and call all the shots?

After Jamil's overblot I started to research magical artifacts. I worked diligently for months at Sam's shop to finally afford one that would prevent me from being controlled again.

Then the VDC was announced. My initial excitement was squashed like a bug by the fifth and hopefully final overblot.

For once I don't have anything I crave to erase from my memory. Its rather tragic if true, but after a certain ammount of overblots there are some things you just get used to. Which is why I might not outright wish for oblivion. The only question that remains is: Did I get used to the pain, or did I get used to the hopelessness of trying to forget it?

Upon further consideration, it might be that the reason as to why I didn't want to forget Vil's overblot was because of what it did to me. Unlike all my prior experiences, this overblot had actually resulted in a positive outcome albeit in an extremely roundabout way.

Throughout his time living at Ramshackle for VDC prep, Vil and I had formed an unlikely friendship. I would be delusional to claim that we were each other’s confidantes, but that didn't mean we had no concern for one another either. Vil had been a great help to me, and someone whose company I greatly enjoyed. I admired him beyond his looks, I found his drive, ambition and ideals to be inspiring. In the short time we'd gotten to know each other he'd quickly become a person I looked up to. And even if he wouldn't outright say it, I know he started to value my opinions.

In the beginning it was merely curiosity. I came from a different world after all. While at first his only interest in my views and beliefs was only fuelled by his own inquisitive desire my insight earned me his respect. He begun to show his appreciation for my contributions in the VDC prep his own way. What to others sounded like a judgemental comment, I knew was a nudge towards bettering myself. And that's how my now most valued relationship started.

What had really brought us together though, was, ironically enough, seeing each other at our most vulnerable.

――――

It was just another ordinary night. The VDC was still a week away and everybody was in high spirits. Except for me that is. It was supposed to be her birthday. My friend's. From back home. My real home, outside of twisted wonderland. Seeing the date in the calendar was only a grim reminder of the life I could never get back. I don't think I had ever missed home as much as I had in that night. The feeling of home sickness was too much to take. All I could do was pity myself and eventually resign to the hopelessness of it all.

Despite having held on to it for so long, my last remaining shred of hope had died that night. I foolishly thought that I could comfort myself, if even temporarily with a familiar sight. Rather than spend my restless night staring at the run down ceiling and slowly spiralling into an even more fragile mental state, I had decided to go outside on Ramshackle’s front porch and watch the stars. It had always used to calm me when I felt poorly back home.

Only when I went outside and really focused on the shining night sky, I couldn't recognise a single star.

It was that realisation that finally broke me. I was alone, and no matter what I’d do or how much I’d hope, home was something I wouldn’t have again. My reactions were outside of my control in that moment, and I felt my eyes start to water as I begun sobbing silently, all my desperation and depression manifesting itself unrestrained for the first time since I had come to Twisted Wonderland.

It was how Vil found me, tears streaming down my face and an overall wreck. He’d initially planned on scolding me for disregarding his rules, similarly to how he’d done with Ace, Deuce and Grim when they went for a midnight snack. Upon noticing the state I was in, that plan had been completely thrown out the window, as instead he’d talk to me and comfort me. Despite what others would think, his efforts were genuine, and while his words didn’t directly convey it, the fact that he’d been willing to stay outside with me a little longer (effectively sacrificing his own valuable time and strict sleeping schedule) before convincing me to return to my room to sleep and rest properly showed just as much.

I noticed that things had started to change after that night. He’d keep a slightly more attentive eye on me, taking an even more direct role in my well-being. While his newfound dedication was subtle, he set me on a path of pursuit of self-improvement.

In return, I had extended him the same curtsy. Following his overblot I’d offered to be a sort of shoulder to cry on. I had confessed to him to just what extent my admiration of him ran. And it ran deep. I’d told Vil how I thought his drive for improvement was inspirational, how his morals were commendable. I’d even followed it up with a sheepish joke about how it would probably serve me well to be at least a bit more like him.

Things started to work themselves out from there. Vil and I had begun to grow closer and spend more time together, eventually becoming romantically involved. Things had finally started to look up for me after all those months in this strange world. When I’d first come to NRC I had been haunted by those memories and feelings. I couldn't escape the doubt and the questions that always lingered in the back of my mind. But Vil had helped me with that. He’d helped me regain hope for my future, and while I still couldn’t find it in me to dream about returning home, I gave myself a chance to hope for a good, successful future free of torment. One where I could finally be truly happy again.

Many people didn’t understand this, but Vil wasn’t obsessed with people being beautiful, but rather with them being the best version of themselves. And despite it all, he was helping me do just that.

cross-crye © 2024.

no reposting, stealing, copying, translating my works or feeding them to AI

reblogs, comments and likes are all highly appreciated

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Malleus eyes hhghjjhggghhhh

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My friend: Any advice on writing?

Me: Act like you know what the fuck you're writing about. Bullshit your way out. Don't let them know. Readers can smell fear.

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im an idiot and did it again and got burned again and the tea is still hot and it didnt cool down and and and ajshajsha

me when i try to write but me tea is too hot and now my eyes r tearing up cuz i was dumb and my top lip is burning

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me when i try to write but me tea is too hot and now my eyes r tearing up cuz i was dumb and my top lip is burning

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mixed cola and pepsi in the same glass cuz i had so little left

it feels so illegal that its like i violated the geneva conventions

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"Who are you outside of the media you consume" I am not "consuming media" i am watching or playing or reading I am expiriencing stories. Who would I be without making stories or listening to music or playing with dolls or eating food? Maybe I'm not doing these things to drown my brain with them so I wouldnt have to deal with me but because I like them. Because I like stories. Because even if I lived in a time without the internet I'd still be reading books and gossping with friends and humming to songs I like. And even furhter before that before books Id still be sitting around with people hearing the stories they make and making my own!

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DONT LMAO ME YOUNG MAN (but in the posh brit school headteacher screaming at u way)

i still love and appreciate u very much but damn if u dont test me sometimes

we have beef. we are beefing.

TF DO U WANT ME TO DO U WENT IN UPREPARED NO PROTECTION NO NOTHING FOR A 'they left' R U FR U KILLED A PART OF MY SOUL

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we have beef. we are beefing.

TF DO U WANT ME TO DO U WENT IN UPREPARED NO PROTECTION NO NOTHING FOR A 'they left' R U FR U KILLED A PART OF MY SOUL