#twist writing

[ramshackle-dweller]

Don’t mind me, having a Malleus-thinker moment...

I’ve been in love with the idea that Malleus knows way more about other students than they expect (and far more than anyone knows about him.) Like he’s never invited to things and spaces out on attending stuff but also he’s still at the school, you know? Like he’s still very much watching and listening while in class and around campus, even if he’s rarely approached. 

So he knows people’s names even though they’ve never spoken to each other before and despite what everyone might expect of the high-and-mighty Prince of Briar Valley, he’s genuinely invested in what he learns about others and commits it all to memory. 

Maybe he even develops the habit of recalling these facts, hoping it will aid him in building a rapport with his fellow students. Like it’s really kinda sweet, but like many of his quirks it often backfires into making him seem that much scarier. 

Then once he’s befriended the prefect it gets so much worse. Like he’s obsessed with spending time with his wondrous little child of man, who tells him all about their shenanigans and what the others around them are up to. So suddenly he knows even more about everyone else and his passing mentions of scenarios and conversations he wasn’t present for start to seem like ominous threats or proof he’s keeping tabs on others with malicious intent. 

Coming out of an interaction with Malleus feeling confused is a pretty standard occurrence but once there's an uptick in frequency and specificity the phenomenon goes from occasional head-scratcher to full blown campus-wide conspiracies regarding the fae prince.

“Good afternoon, Duce Spade.” The dragon fae’s low tone rumbled. Deuce’s head shot up so fast he nearly clipped it on one of the bookshelves in front of him. He whipped around, desperately trying to recover from his moment of panic. 

“Erk! Oh h-hey there Dorm Leader Malleus, sir!” He chirped respectfully, trying his best to maintain his latest attempt at his new honor student demeanor. The taller man was almost comically relaxed looking by comparison- shoulders back, gloved hand leafing through the books on the shelf beside where Deuce had been hunting through the bottom shelf. The fae’s dark eyebrows had shot up at the first-year’s energetic reaction and his face still wore a look of honest curiosity. 

Instinctively, the blue haired boy started to readjust his stiff posture to look more casual under the assumed judgment of Malleus’ electric green gaze. The dragon tilted his head, about to speak when he noticed the paper in Deuce’s hand. 

“History of Animal Magic?” 

“Oh- uh- yeah the next paper for Terin’s-” Duce froze as the dark haired man reached near where his shoulder was resting against the bookshelf. Malleus pulled a book from the shelf, his gaze never leaving the other’s face. 

“It’s up a few shelves from where you were looking.” Malleus' somewhat otherworldly features seemed to show the slightest hint of a smile as he held the book out. 

Deuce, who was admittedly still adjusting to being up-close with the fae folk, snapped out of whatever fascinated stupor had overtaken him and took hold of the book, bending slightly at the waist, ‘thank you’s and apologies falling from his lips in a jumbled mess. Malleus let out a small, almost unnoticeable noise of frustration. He wasn’t about to give up though, it’s not like the boy had run screaming yet… 

“Sebek mentioned that assignment, it was only just issued to you and yet you're already on top of it, I see. I commend you for your dedication to your assignments. I’m sure your mother is quite pleased with your progress here at the college. I know how eager you are to make her proud.” Malleus felt the slightest tingle of nervous energy- he was really doing quite well this time! He was being so friendly and having such a nice chat with this human underclassman!  

“Oh! Uh th-thanks! I’m glad it seems that way!” the younger man beamed a bit at the complement. Then his blood ran cold- wait what did the dorm leader know about his mom? How could he mention something so specific? Malleus seemed about to speak again when Deuce shuffled a few steps backwards, “Well! I better get on it now that I have the book! Sorry to rush off Mr. Malleus sir! Thank you again!” he chimed frantically. Malleus simply nodded and waved him off calmly,

“On your way then, Deuce Spade. Take Care.” The prince dismissed the other gracefully as Deuce hotfooted it out of the library. 

Later that evening, he recounted the run-in with his friends…. 

“I dunno man, maybe he’s psychic?” Ace threw his hands up in surrender. 

“Is that something fae can do?” Deuce breathed, hugging the book to his chest as he walked. Grim’s ears lifted slightly as he rode on the prefect’s shoulders. 

“Woooah if they can I wanna learn!! Human, we must find a fae student who will teach me! The great Grim demands it!” He announced, thumping his padded paw on his ride’s forehead. 

“I dunno, maybe he just listens? I mean, you do talk about your mom to us a lot. I know it’s one of the first  things I would mention when talking about you.” the perfect assured Deuce with a smile.

“Ooooor He’s got super spooky evil spies all over campus that watch us all and report back to him.” Ace grinned, elbowing Deuce in the ribs.

“Oh come on, Ace…” 

“What? It’s not like you’ve ever met the guy, right? Trust me, Prefect, everyone says he's like, super scary!” 

“Still seems kinda rude to accuse people of having evil henchmen.” The perfect sighed. 

“Bold statement coming from a henchman!” Grim snickered, pawing at their face again. 

“Bold actions from someone who can’t open a tuna can without a pull tab.” They replied with a threatening squint as the four arrived at Ramshackle dorm.

“Well, goodnight! Don’t spend all night out walking around with your weirdo Diasomnia friend! He might be one of Malleus’ spies!” Ace called with a wave as he and Deuce turned to leave. 

“Hornton isn’t a spy, he’s my friend.” the perfect huffed, shaking their head as they retreated inside the rickety old building, Grim hopping off their shoulders. With a rattle, the old door shut and the prefect stretched a bit, already watching the window for the first sign of little green fairy lights.

[darknetneopets]

Me: chilling, in my lane, having a relaxing evening

The evil demon that lives in my brain: ooo you wanna write stuff for Twist so bad ooo

Me:

The evil demon that lives in my brain: you wanna try writing little scenarios and start an ask blog so bad it makes you look stupid!! How long are you gonna read everyone’s cool writing and go ‘oooh if I was writing for this prompt I would have done it like this!!’ before you break?

Me: how did you get in here?? who let you in??

The evil demon that lives in my brain: *strangling me with my own adhd* return to the you that used to rp and write fanfics. Return to your rootssss

[floral-poisons]

kind of wanna reinforce this here. because i’ve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.

ai writing is not okay.

it’s literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. it’s using authors’ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.

writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.

seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.

genuinely don’t know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.

[firedragon1321]

[cursingtoji]

“hm hello? do you need help?” yuuji approached the lady walking the hallways so slowly she seemed lost.

“huh?” you turned and he smiled, thinking how gorgeous you looked. your uniform was a lot like nobara’s, although it was lighter, like it was slightly bleached or just worn a lot, “no, i… i go here.”

“oh are you gojo-sensei’s student too?” he was excited to meet another student, it was such a big school for just a few people.

“gojo… sensei” you repeated confused.

“oh you must be utahime-sensei’s student then? from kyoto?” he tilted his head, like a puppy.

“utahime…” you whispered, “is geto here?” you asked with a certain urgency in your voice, “geto suguru.”

“who? geto?” he scratched his head, trying to remember if he heard about a sensei called geto suguru, “i don’t think i—“

“itadori!” megumi called from outside, yuuji saw him die below through the open windows of the second floor he was at, his classmate probably saw him as well.

“ah fushiguro!” he greeted his friend and turned back to you, “i’ll ask megumi, he’s been here for longer than me.”

“who you talking to?!” megumi shouted.

“her!” he pointed, you were in front of him, right by the opened window too, he couldn’t see you?

megumi even moved a bit, “itadori, there’s no one there. stop playing, we got to leave!” megumi scolded him before entering the building.

“eh?” yuuji was frowning.

“sorry, i think i’m in the wrong place” you bowed and turned away running.

“wait!” he ran after you, turning corners he thought you could’ve gone but after a few ones he reached a dead end.

“hm? yuuji?” gojo emerged from a classroom.

“gojo-sensei! there was… someone…” he looked around.

“oi, we’re waiting for you, let’s go” megumi came from where he was, grabbing yuuji by the hood of his uniform and dragging him away.

gojo watched through a window as they walked down the staircase until both boys walked out of the building.

“that was weird” you murmured from inside the classroom he was in, “that boy called you sensei” you put more rice into your hungry mouth, “does yaga know you’re pretending to be a teacher here?”

satoru closed the door, lighting another incense on the table that you used to sit. where every year on the anniversary of your death he built a shrine with food you liked.

“i thought haibara was in a mission but i saw him by the tree” you pointed behind you with your chopsticks, where, outside the classroom and behind the building remained the tree you always had lunch underneath during hot summer days.

he undid the blindfold, letting his hair fall as he sat in front of you, admiring how you never aged a day. after all, you couldn’t.

in fact, it seemed like you didn’t realize how much time has passed. every year you appeared and every year you thought it was still 2006, when you had two kouhais that did everything you asked, a girl best friend that insisted you smoked with her and two boys that were helplessly in love with you. the last year you were alive.

“is suguru not coming?” you asked with your mouth full.

gojo swallowed hard, “no, angel. it’s just us.”

[new-kit-on-the-block]

How I think I look when setting up twists

How I actually look

[bluerosefox]

Of Tiny Tots, Mistaken Identities, and Reunions

Seventeen year old Damian Wayne is dragged to a business deal outside of Gotham (along with his father and Drake), mostly to keep up appearances that the family does work outside of Gotham, networking, and because Damian does need to learn the ropes of the company, he decides to head outside the meeting with the Manson family to get a breather (mainly cause the Manson's were annoying him fully, it was like they were trying to suck up towards Damian and trying to push their daughter on him but at the same time he caught them almost insulting and hostile towards him before they would stop and correct themselves) when out of the blue a three year old toddler with black hair comes running over with a cheerful "Daddy!" and latches onto his leg.

Damian is stunned in place but feels frozen when he hears a voice, older and almost identical to his own but he can detect a familiarity in it, a voice he only hears in his dreams nowadays say.

"Ellie, no! That's not me Starlight! I'm so sorry dude-"

When Damian turned his head towards the voice he's meet with an near identical face, granted there were some minor differences, but very, very familiar pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. Eyes that were somehow full of life, which shouldn't be possible because the last time he saw those eyes they had been dim and milked over years ago. The speaker had become startled at the his sudden turn and the words that he had been saying had quickly died out when he too took in Damian's features.

"D...Damian?..." the name came out so soft and small that Damian almost didn't hear it but he did.

And before Damian could stop himself, he spoke a name he hadn't dared utter in years.

"Danyal."

His twin looked like he had just seen a ghost, and Damian was sure he looked the same. And given the last time they had last saw each other it was no wonder they both looked like death warmed over them for a moment.

After all... Damian had failed to protect his brother, Danyal al Ghul all those years ago on a botched mission.

His bother who... wasn't dead.

His brother who was looking like he wanted to run but was keeping himself rooted in his spot.

His brother whose eyes were glancing downwards and seemed so nervous.

His brother who knew the little girl, Ellie, still hugging his legs.

His brother who had... responded and corrected her mix up when she had called Damian 'Daddy.'

And oh, she's looking up at him and making grabby hands wanting to be picked up and she has Danyal's eyes and his nose and-

Oh... Damian.... Damian's an uncle it seems.

[glasshouses-and-stones]

Do you ever just start writing and then it's a few thousand words later, and you're just like, 'Where the hell did any of this come from? This was not the plan. Wtf?'

[fullofbees]

Fanon pet peeve is when u see a man that is a submissive and breedable brat but everyone writes him as a sadistic daddy dom. I'm so sorry king u deserve better and as many fingers as u want in ur ass 😔

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Feelings Thawed

Character; Cater Diamond

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.

“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.

Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 

He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.

You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.

He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”

Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”

You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”

Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.

“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 

The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”

Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 

It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[yyokkki]

The Prefect's Laugh

Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.

First Years x gn! Prefect

Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?

Divider by @saradika

It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.

The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.

While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).

“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”

“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”

Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.

“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”

“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”

“Pfft-“

Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.

He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’

Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.

Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.

He felt wronged.

And flustered.

…Shit, why are they kinda cute.

Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.

Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.

“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”

“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”

Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.

“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”

While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…

And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”

He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.

It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…

They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.

It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.

It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.

Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.

Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.

Truly the mom and dad of the group.

They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.

It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.

Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.

It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.

“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”

“…Well, we are at the library.”

“I mean at other places too.”

Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.

“Why? You find it weird?”

“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”

They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”

Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?

“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”

Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.

“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”

After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.

"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“

“…”

Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.

…It may be a little too late for him.

It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.

Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.

It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.

So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.

He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…

That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.

Well shit.

He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.

Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.

He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.

‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.

Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.

Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.

As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.

He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.

First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.

Then they smiled warmly at him.

“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”

Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?

Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.

Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.

The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).

Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.

“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.

But also absolutely effective.

The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.

“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“

He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.

On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.

It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.

Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.

In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.

All except for art, that is.

Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.

After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.

And he really really needed it.

His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.

“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…

Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.

The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.

Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.

The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.

With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.

An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…

And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.

“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.

“…”

“Human..?”

“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”

“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”

If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.

“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”

The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.

He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.

…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!

[ramshackle-dweller]

Finding out Hornton is Malleus

I know this isn’t how it’s gonna happen/has happened (I’m still getting caught up on the game) but I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all the different fun ways the prefect could find out that their weird friend Hornton is actually Malleus Draconia and all of them are delightful.

Imagine if the prefect said something kind of derogatory out loud (just something like a snide comment or a harsh joke), not thinking anything of it because they’ve never so much as seen the guy- only to be overheard by the Diasomnia crew.

Just Sebek standing there about to combust while Lilia is trying to clamp down on a fit of giggles as they watch Malleus just loom behind the prefect looking kind of stunned…

~☽ ♡ ☾ ~

The color had left Silver’s face, Sebek was so horrified that even he needed a moment before he could speak. All that had managed to escape Lilia was a sharp sudden noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. The looks of donning horror on the other first years was more than enough to prompt the prefect to look over their shoulder. They started slightly at the tall figure,

“Oh-!” They turned to greet him, beaming immediately, “Hey Hornton!”

Every human soul present was suddenly holding their breath. Malleus was gonna smite them where they stood and the poor ramshackle prefect didn’t stand a chance. All of that was lost on the prefect of course, who just quirked their head at the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Of all the insolent-“ Sebek’s first attempt at speaking was swiftly subdued by Lilia’s hand over his mouth.

“Good afternoon prefect!” Lillia chimed, earning an unfiltered look of bewilderment from Silver and Sebek. Then his eyes glittered mischievously “Well Malleus, are you not going to greet your friend?” He was obviously getting a kick out of this.

“Malleus?” the prefect echoed the name moments before their brain began to play the worlds fastest game of connect the dots. “Ah.” They breathed, looking dumbfounded as they recontextualized their entire friendship with Hornton. Malleus, who’s face had not yet betrayed the rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions he had embarked on, folded his arms lightly.

The prefect smiled nervously, “Ssorry I uh- If I had known- that is if I knew I knew you-“ they shifted awkwardly. Everyone was a breath away from doing or saying something when Malleus finally allowed a look of pure delight to spread across his features.

“Oh no, no! I quite appreciate hearing all of your thoughts about me! It’s not everyday I’m treated to such boldness, child of man.” It might not have come through to anyone but Lilia, but the prince was downright giddy as he offered his hand, “May I escort you when you make your way to your next class? I would like to hear more of your thoughts in detail….” he leaned in slightly to even out the difference in heights, eyes lidded in the smug sort of look he wore on the rare occasions he decided to tease someone else.

The prefect’s shoulders relaxed, a sighing sort of chuckle escaping their chest as they gently shook their head and shrugged,

“Yeah, sure Malleus. Why not.”

“Hornton, if you please…” He pouted.

“Sure, whatever you prefer.”

[darknetneopets]

Oooo you wanna give me writing ideas so bad oooo !!!

I caved and made a Twist writing blog then completely stalled out on what to write about! I’ve had no luck finding prompts I like so if you wanna bounce some ideas off my little adhd cat brain I would happily accept them!!!

@ramshackle-dweller

Im still kinda working on making it look nice but yeah!! All works depict the guys as 18+ college students and have no specific format or style in mind (fics, hcs, reader insert, character ships etc)

[twstowo]

Would He Catch You If you Jumped At Him? [Twst]

♡︎Help, I have fallen and I can't get up

♡︎Includes: NRC, RSA and Rollo

He sees you coming towards him, aware that you are plotting something. As soon as you jump in his direction, he catches you, twirls you around, and even kisses you.

⋆⋅☆Malleus, Silver, and Rook

He's probably minding his own business when he sees you running towards him. He catches you and scolds you, but he isn't mad. Just don't do it again; imagine if he can't catch you in time.

⋆⋅☆Sebek, Riddle, Vil, Jack, Jamil and Rollo

Oh, by the Seven, he almost died when he saw you jump towards him. He still manages to catch you at the last minute, but don't do that again to his poor heart!

⋆⋅☆Trey, Deuce, Ruggie, Ortho and Neige

His eyes widen as soon as he sees you jump towards him, but his mind and body seem to disconnect as he is unable to catch you in time. He apologizes millions of times.

⋆⋅☆Idia, Azul, and Kalim

He didn't even move, just stood there the whole time, watching as you fell to the ground.

⋆⋅☆Grim, Epel, Leona, Jade, and Ace

Beatboxing over your fallen body.

⋆⋅☆ Floyd, Che’nya, and Cater

Uses his magic to make you float before you reach the floor and starts talking about how young people are, blablabla....

⋆⋅☆Lilia

[egophiliac]

another one that I'm not super happy with, but continuing to mess with it isn't going to help! so here he is! 🦇 there was a lot I was trying to get across in this one, so uhhhhh hopefully it reads.

we're almost out of unique magics now...just Ace (and maybe Grim?) left!

[calcifiedunderland]

Shrimply Yours~

In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.

Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~

—————

“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”

Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.

You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?

In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.

At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.

“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.

“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-

“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”

One second passed. Two. Three.

Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”

He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.

“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”

He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”

Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.

“…Hey, is something burning?”

“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”

———