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leslie057 · 2 days

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rating things owned by nancy elizabeth wheeler

because she’s got a lot of little things. mostly they are very cute and strange little things.

starting off strong we have the prettiest tissue box in the world. 9/10, i think if i were sick it would make me feel better to have such a nice tissue box.

i’m fairly certain this is her diary beside it because her diary looks pink in the upside down version of her bedroom. so this is probably it? 11/10, i want to read it so bad. and very sweet pic with mom—7.5/10.

next up these pinstripe pants !! 10/10 i love them so much. oh and the index finger ring is there obviously, 8/10, such a consistent piece of her character.

a ribbon for being the bestest girl ever in the world. 10/10. also the card of cardinals: 6/10, probably just a christmas card or something rather than a symbol of her love for birds. but i still like it.

mr rabbit gets 11/10 for the name alone. and why does he look dead. i love him. he’s me.

descent from xanadu: QUITE LITERALLY 0/10. at first i was SO excited to cheer her on for reading a sex and drugs book at school but as it turns out? bizarre and gross. seems to go heavy on nonconsensual stuff. i snagged a free pdf and command f’d for whore and bitch. lots of results obviously (one use of c*ck crazy bitch…lovely). it seems men in this book say a lot of sexist stuff that the women pretend to hate but love which i can’t imagine is great for a teenage girl to consume. also just not sexy at all.

literally so bad, and this is not the worst of it.

sooo bad. the author was what 70 (??) writing that his female character got clinically DIAGNOSED with being a slut for every guy she comes in contact with. i know options for sexy literature were probably limited at this time but…please go check out something else. i wanna bonk her on the head with this book (paperback) and hug her. you don’t need to read this to be cool and sexually aware. moving on.

on the other side of that, the blondie calendar gives us a sense of the GOOD media she’s consuming!! a 10/10 no questions asked. we don't really get to see many of her hobbies or interests outside of investigation so this is a much appreciated detail.

of course like all good things in life the blondie calendar does get replaced. its replacement is what i will call Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #1 seen in her room in s4. i give it a 4/10 because idk what’s going on really.

and here is a very crunchy screencap of Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #2 from s4 which i will give a 5/10. note the boyfriend typical photography above it, for sure a 10/10.

there is also Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #3 which gets an 8/10 because i like the composition and the piano player. where did she get this and why. interior decoration is her passion.

the sleeping bag and crochet pillow setup. 7/10. would take a cat nap here.

pluto!! 15/10, the best mickey mouse character i would say. i hope her cousin is taking good care of him.

bulletin board 10/10. i love how obvious it is that she has had this up for forever. probably a nice constant in her life.

and my favorite pic up there is this precious one. look at herrr. 5000/10.

her floral weekender bag. 6/10, i like it, but not as much as i like the speedwalk and the toss into the backseat. she was SO ready for her lab takedown road trip.

trapper keeper is a 9/10 because they probably put anything and everything on trapper keepers back in the day and yet still she chose this lovely understated hot air balloon. elegant.

tom cruise poster is 1000000/10 actually. she is so loyal to that man. actually though not a great pic of him all things considered so maybe i give it a 999999/10. (i love it so much because i know for a fact that jonathan byers works proactively to never acknowledge this poster, because he is more mature than that.) (he is not more mature than that, in fact he is a little pouty about mr cruise.)

KITTY FIGURINE. 10/10. i thought it was just in s4 but i found it on her other nightstand in s1. very very adorable. i imagine it is now one of the first things she sees in the morning (well that and her blue telephone: 8/10) which is bizarre and cute. the mixtape drawer gets a 10/10 for reasons that i don’t think i need to get into.

white fingerless gloves! 10/10. so chic for monster hunting.

black fingerless gloves from s4. hmmm 3/10, they're cool i guess but they don’t feel very nancy and the white ones are so much better. especially because you may get the splatter effect of monster blood on them in a battle scenario, which would be badass.

piggybank (with her name on the side). 2/10 unfortunately i don’t like him. he looks at me like i took out his whole pig village and i just need some quarters. also did she paint this herself? in that case, 3/10 for customization lol.

pastel underwear drawer: 10/10. her committment to the hollistic aesthetic and color palette of her room is impressive here. it was a good idea to use this drawer as a deterrence against her little brother and a money hiding place but clearly he has no manners and is a THIEF.

STRIPED SOCKS. 10/10. i realize it's hard to see because she's moving so fast (slow down he is not going anywhere) but they are indeed stripey even though i would have guessed solid white. and wow what good sleeping socks. stripes are just cozier. hope she got lots of sleep in those.

#long post #bedroom analysis #stranger things #nancywheeleredit #character analysis #nancy wheeler #karen wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things details #jancy #< target audience #jonathan byers #jonathan x nancy #screencaps #ballet slippers necklace coming in part 2

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the-s1lly-corner · 17 hours

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Screw it the sillyness won, could I pretty please request Gummigoo being absolutely smitten for the reader headcannons? No rush to write this tho! :) (I'm cringing so bad while writing this lol)

Gumigoo being head over heels for the reader

still mad that i cant play my spotify playlist on browser- its not private or anything, i just cant access it maybe its because im not logged in on browser. which sucks because it wont let me log in on browser- grrrr notes: reader is GN, brand new established relationship, au where gummigoo gets to stay at the circus CWs: edit

its all so new for him, hes sure he may have fallen in love at some point in his old life... if the narrative called for it- but did that count as something real? to him, he wasnt sure... but that didnt change the fact that you were here now

its all so weird, experiencing all of this with you- its like he wasnt awake before he met you... which to be fair... he kind of was, wasnt he?

despite being totally new to it, hes still pretty confident with you. he isnt afraid to kiss you or hold your hand. at worst he might not know exactly where to put his hands, but its not long until he gets the hang of it

he sees you like you were the best thing to come into this universe, like hes constantly falling in love with you all over again every time you interact with one another

its actually a little funny to see!

his tail sways a little as he talks with you, sometimes you can hear it thump against the wall or floor, or really anything that gets too close

oh his eyes definitely turn heart shaped when he sees you, it sometimes only lasts for a few seconds but its still something that happens

dies a little when you wear his hat/pos

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #tadc x you #tadc imagine #the amazing digital circus x you #the amazing digital circus imagine #gummigoo x reader #gummigoo x you #gummigoo imagine #gummygoo x you #gummygoo x reader #gummygoo imagine

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xileonaaaa · 3 days

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Thinking of a lonely Sukuna who finds you entertaining…

Heien Era Sukuna x sorcerer!reader

Please refer to this if you are confused.

Sukuna’s cursed technique involves 2 types of slashes, cleeve and dismantle, and he can use them separately, or combine them.

Sukuna has mastered RTC, meaning he can heal himself, and others! (He healed megumi during the shibuya incident.)

Imbuing a weapon with cursed energy just means to enhance its overall strength.

He isn’t a possessive maniac who calls you “Woman.”

➽──────────────❥

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

!RyomenSukuna who has been alive for longer than he can even care to remember.

!RyomenSukuna who is by no means a fool, and is not a force to be reckoned with. For he is, without a doubt, the king of all curses and curse users alike.

!RyomenSukuna who bears the burden of being infinitely strong, but lonely, and only has a mere servant by his side to keep him some form of company.

!RyomenSukuna who would often find himself aimlessly strolling through the charred remains of what was left of the once flourishing villages he’d burnt to smithereens.

!RyomenSukuna who was desperate for some form of entertainment, someone he could battle for at least a little while before they ultimately died. (Every lone sorcerer either tried to run from him, hide or wouldn’t even be able to get a single attack out. It was pathetic.)

!RyomenSukuna who felt your presence before he even saw you.

!RyomenSukuna who was rather displeased by how weak and pathetic you seemed, trying your absolute hardest to sneak around behind him by hiding yourself amidst the rubble and sut like he was some sort of sick joke.

!RyomenSukuna who scoffed before pausing in his walk to casually toss a cleeve back behind him, in your direction.

!RyomenSukuna who eagerly waited to hear the satisfying sound of your flesh hitting the ground, but when that never came, a menacing grin formed on his face.

!RyomenSukuna who tossed a few more cleeves your way, even tossing back a dismantle at one point, but still never heard the sound of your body getting split in half. He was sure you could handle him, right? After all, you survived the bud of his technique, so why not play with you a little?

!RyomenSukuna who spun around with haste to face you, and initially was a bit stunned at your utter beauty, having never seen anyone as ethereal as you before. However, he didn’t let his moment of awe phase him, and to the untrained eye, his bloodlust was the most apparent thing etched onto his inhumane features.

!RyomenSukuna who took his time sizing you up, his eyes widening as he felt your cursed energy suddenly surge. His smile increased ten fold when he realized you were actually stronger than you’d originally let on. He was going to have fun ripping you apart.

!RyomenSukuna who engaged in a ruthless battle with you, learning different things about you as you gave it your all against him. He noticed that you seemed to have some sort of limit on your cursed energy, and that quite literally was your downfall.

!RyomenSukuna who stalled, and blocked your attacks for as long as he could, halfassing you in the worst way possible.

!RyomenSukuna who eventually, just as he’d previously predicted, could feel your cursed energy start to dwindle, and he knew you were reaching that point where you’d be rendered powerless in a matter of seconds. He was curious to see what you’d do.

!RyomenSukuna who watched as you put some distance in between the both of you, before using RTC (reverse cursed technique), and pulling out some sort of interestingly shaped katana. He didn’t bother attacking you, far too interested in watching how you split your remaining cursed energy into healing yourself, and imbuing whatever was left over into your weapon.

!RyomenSukuna who had a smile of pure elation as he watched you charge at him, faster than the speed of light. He was absolutely livid.

!RyomenSukuna who thought that you were fast, but he was faster. Unfortunately, with the absence of your cursed energy, your basic movements had become repetitive, and without a moments notice, he ripped you clean out of the air, and slammed you down into the ground with so much force, a crater formed.

!RyomenSukuna whose initial feeling of elation faltered a bit when he didn’t see you moving. He took a step back, readying himself for another go at it, and hoping that you’d get back up. Hoping and maybe even wishing that this fight wasn’t over just yet.

!RyomenSukuna whose eyes widened as you surprised him yet again. He watched on in glee as you shakily pulled yourself to your feet, before raising your katana at him and glaring down your sword. The unwavering look of determination in your eyes is what set him off.

!RyomenSukuna who felt his non functional heart beat for the first time, in a long time. His sadistic grin returned to his face, and this time he charged at you first.

!RyomenSukuna who easily knocked you off your feet time and time again, and watched with awe as you kept on getting up, each and every time. He admired your determination, but one misdirected cleeve was all it took to render you immobile.

!RyomenSukuna who normally would’ve scoffed and walked away, found himself briskly walking over to your limp form in what one would call a rather “worried manner”. To him, he just simply wanted to know if you were still alive.

!RyomenSukuna who healed you himself, and, with about as much care a monster like him could muster, lifted you up into his lower arms.

!RyomenSukuna who ended up taking you back to his home, where he was the one to watch over you to make sure you recovered just fine.

!RyomenSukuna who was there to see those gorgeous eyes of yours flutter open, and bear the softest gaze anyone has ever shown him.

!RyomenSukuna who lost his train of thought the moment you started to sit up, and adjust yourself in the soft mattress he’d so kindly placed you on.

!RyomenSukuna who was taken aback at how polite and respectful you were towards him, despite the fact he’d almost killed you. (He seemed to forget that he was also the who saved your life???)

!RyomenSukuna who actually took a liking to you, even though you were in no way close to him in strength, nor did you share the mindset.

!RyomenSukuna who didn’t find himself becoming bored or annoyed the more you told him about your past and upbringing. In fact, he was always subtly nodding along, taking in your every word.

!RyomenSukuna who actually listened to you, and didn’t space out like he normally did whenever someone or something was talking to him. Whenever you seemed to get angry or frustrated at a certain topic, he would get frustrated too. Whenever you’d be happy about something, he’d let a little smirk find its way onto his lips. (It was almost like he mirrored your reactions.)

!RyomenSukuna who began to doubt his initial reason for bringing you back to his home, as the weeks went on. He ends up letting you stay anyway, because you technically did still serve a purpose to him. You were his form of entertainment.

!RyomenSukuna who never really spoke much around you. Usually opting to silently observe you while you trained, or just listen to you as you talked enough for the both of you. Besides, he figured he never really had anything interesting to say anyways. (His voice would only be heard when explaining anything dealing with jujitsu. Other than that, he was as silent as a ghost. The most you’d get from him were the head nods, and soft grunts to show his approval.)

!RyomenSukuna who found himself feeling a bit strange when you told him one night over dinner that you would be leaving soon, and that there was someone out there you wanted to get revenge on for wronging your family.

!RyomenSukuna who spoke up for the first time since he’d brought you back to his home to actually protest against you going out alone. He even volunteered to do the deed for you, to rid your hands of any blood, but you insisted, and he didn’t have it in him to fight you. He could never deny you of what you wanted.

!RyomenSukuna whose face remained neutral, as you waved goodbye to him, before setting off on your journey.

!RyomenSukuna who would never admit, even to himself, that he enjoyed your company, even if it had only been a few weeks.

!RyomenSukuna whose boredom quickly returned, and within a few days, he was back to his daily walks around the ruined village.

!RyomenSukuna who never really took the time to think about just how much your presence really affected him. Nowadays, he was easily agitated, and just as quick to blow a fuse at some of the most trivial things. He wasn’t his normal calm, and collected self, and it bothered him. It bothered him that you weren’t there with him anymore.

!RyomenSukuna who, deep down, feared that you would never return, and that he’d never get to hear your voice again, sweetly chirping away at whatever memories that came to mind. Giving him endless entertainment, something that he found himself desperately craving now.

!RyomenSukuna who never really dwelled in pointless things such as feelings. However, there were times when his restless mind would wonder about you, and if you were okay.

!RyomenSukuna who realized that he was at his calmest and most peaceful state whenever you were situated in his presence.

!RyomenSukuna who found that he just couldn’t fall asleep one night, and opted to take a midnight stroll through the forest to get some fresh air, to maybe even cleanse his mind of the slight worry he was feeling.

!RyomenSukuna who thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he could’ve sworn he saw your smaller form limping towards him from the treeline. After all, he was going on his 8th night of no proper sleep.

!RyomenSukuna who felt a part of him return when he realized that it was in fact you. He let you come to him, and due to the moonlight, he was able to see the horrific state you were in.

!RyomenSukuna who immediately healed you with a gentle touch, before ushering you into a warm embrace. It was the first time he’d ever done something of the sorts, and to be honest he didn’t hate it. He was just glad that you came back.

Glad that you came back to him.

#sukuna #fypシ #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #soft sukuna #heien era Sukuna #tumblr fyp #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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tragedyslut · 3 days

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Surrender yourself to me `nsfw`

a/n : Christian!abby. religion play. anal, dacryphilia (i ain't spelling that right) and freaky shit like that. dom!reader. 🫢 creds @atyourmerci since i got the idea of Christian!abby from her fic 'repent' its amazing, so go read that🧡

you had been apart of the wlf for a bit less time than most people. most people had years under their belt, but you hadn't been there that long. there was this girl that caught your eye, Abby Anderson. her muscles, that braid. whats not to love about her? except that she wouldn't look at you. not even for a second. you had tried to befriend her, in hopes to maybe get her under the sheets but you were met with a glare every time.

during a completely normal patrol, you had been wandering and found an abandoned church. you weren't Christian, to be fair, you were the opposite. but still you found yourself wandering inside, to your surprise, and amusement you found none other than abby in there. on her knees, begging for gods mercy. she looked so pitiful doing that, and you loved it. you stepped closer, the years of sneaking around abandoned buildings filled with clickers paying off. you then started hearing some of what she was mumbling about.

" please.. lord forgive me. i have a boyfriend.. im- im devoted to you! i wpuld never have sex with that girl.. y/n- i only looked at her once. ill cleanse my soul of her sins and unholiness... please lord. "

she was repenting, about you. her love for you, or some weird kind of crush. you decided to get your amusement out of this. you leaned down next to her, getting into the same position.

you started praying, or was it praying? more like a chant. you said your love to her, and somebody heard. maybe god, maybe someone else.

you locked eyes with her, smirking as she blushed, and repented even louder, begging. it felt so good too see her beg. once you were done, you stood up, angling over her. " go on, read me a verse of that bible. spill it out that pretty mouth of yours. " you teased, as she shot you a teary eyed glare. " go on darlin', give me your worst. "

you hadn't locked eyes or said a word to each other since that day.

until you were on patrol again. you knew she would be at that damn church again.

you were right.

she was desperately praying, nearly sobbing.

her voice was like liquor. if you'd have heard her praying that desperately, you would've returned quicker.

you appeared behind her.

" come on, surrender yourself to me. no amount of praying is gonna change anything.. or will it? " you teased. her tears were suddenly dry, as she looked up at you pleadingly, awaiting your touch.

" awhh, you want me now huh? " you said, your sultry tone evident as you maneuvered yourself to sit on her lap. she nodded crazily, like a wild animal. " what'll your poor god say about this huh abby? " you mumbled, running your hands down her neck and back.

" i don't.. i don't care what he'll think- i just.. i need you " she mumbled, giving you a pouted look.

you tugged on her braid, pulling her down to the christ monumental in front of the church, the podium staring down at you both in displeasure as you made abby get on her knees, stripping her completely. her perky breasts on display as she stared half lidded at the podium. you slipped off your own clothes, reaching your back and bringing out the dildo you had brought along, just for the occasion.

you began pounding into her from the back, hearing her moan loudly and whisper out prayers under her breath. with each word she uttered, you only got rougher with her. spanking her ass, and pulling on her braid, telling her how much she'd sinned.

eventually, she was in tears. begging her lord for forgiveness as she moaned pathetically. you finally pulled out of her, she was soaked, her cum leaking all over her bare thighs.

" are you gonna repent now hmm? " you said, grabbing her hips and roughly pulling her to sit on your bare lap. you gripped her ass, giggling as you heard her whimper.

" i need.. i need more. " she mumbled, seeming to utterly ashamed, but desperate.

you only chuckled, pushing her onto her back as you spread her for you to see everything. you plunged your sinful fingers inside of her pretty pussy as she moaned, throwing her head back and meeting the eyes of her disappointed god. but at this point, you were basically her god.

she moaned your name as you continued to plunge sin into her, but her sinful acts were the last thing on her mind. the only thing she was possible of thinking about now was you.

she felt you tugging her braid, as she only got louder and more pathetic. her muscles and strength were nothing now.

as she had her second orgasm, she threw her head back, moaning your name loudly.

her eyes were half lidded as she was roughly pulled up by her braid, meeting your eyes.

" you're mine. you aren't the property of gods, your my property. i am your god, you got that hmm? " you whispered seductively.

" yes.. yes.. i promise. im yours. " she moaned out.

#Spotify #ellie tlou #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou smut #ellie williams smut #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby is scary as fuck #abby being the dom bitch that she is #sub abby #sub abby anderson #abby angst #abby x fem!reader #abby x dom!reader

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radiaurapple · 19 hours

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Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Chapter 3

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH Lucifer makes a choice he is likely to regret.

The last time Lucifer saw his father, he was granted a fragment of His divine power — a punishment in the guise of a blessing — that he might serve as steward of the wayward souls cast down into Hell. It is a cruel gift, designed to ensure that he will always be haunted by his mistakes; Lucifer has endured the past seven thousand years by avoiding its use at all costs. But in the aftermath of the fight with Adam, Alastor's worsening injury threatens the foundations of his daughter's dream. Lucifer does what any good father would do: he uses his long-forgotten power to deliver Alastor's soul from the brink of destruction. In turn, knowing Alastor — with all his sins, past lives, and heartbreaks — teaches Lucifer a little more about what it means to be human.

[AO3 LINK]

Hi! here's the latest chapter of my radioapple fic!! things are gettin crazy!! Im very excited about this chapter so I attempted a drawing to accompany it as well ❤️ As always next chapter will be posted in 1 week. 📻🍎

Chapter preview below!

Charlie is still a little girl on the night of the first extermination. When the screaming starts, Lucifer is in her room, curled around her tiny body, his wings a cocoon around them –– he sings softly in her ear, even as she cries and bangs her tiny fists against his chest.

“Daddy,” she sobs. “Help them –– please!”

I can’t, he doesn’t say. She hasn’t learned, yet, that there are no correct moves in this game –– that he is a pawn locked in Heaven’s trap, always three steps behind.

It is Lilith who oversees the exterminations. In those years, she often returns with a scrape or two from an angelic weapon. These are a joy to heal –– her soul is made of Lucifer’s most treasured memories. It feels less like a curse, then, to crawl into her arms –– to press his forehead to hers and dive back into Eden.

When he touches her, it is easy to forget that Eden was an age ago.

When Charlie is thirteen, the Exorcists arrive six hours early; the denizens of Hell are unprepared, still out drinking to their own impending doom. It is a massacre.

When the rift opens, he is at Lu Lu World with Charlie. He brought her there to cheer her up before the extermination. The Exorcists swarm the park in seconds — Lucifer pulls Charlie against his chest to whisk her away, but not before she catches sight of a ticket-taker with an angelic arrow in his heart.

She struggles in Lucifer’s grip, her hand outstretched, as if there were anything she could do — and then they both dissolve in a red shimmer of light.

They materialize in the parlor.

Charlie snarls — her horns sprout from her forehead. “Let me go!” she yells.

Lucifer releases her instantly. She stumbles forward; Lucifer reaches out a hand to steady her, but she rounds on him and bats it away.

“I can’t believe you!” She says. “I know you heal Mom when she comes back from the exterminations. If I had that power, I’d be out there right now, trying to save as many lives as I could. They’re our people, dad!”

Lucifer frowns, removes his hat, and runs a hand through his hair. “Come on, Charlie. You know I can’t do that.”

Charlie squares her shoulders in defiance. “Why not?”

Lucifer sighs. He crosses into the dining room and sits at the table. He’s tempted to tell her the entire truth –– but of the host of indignities that come with his sentence, the worst has always been explaining each punishment to his daughter. Her naïve confusion when she learned he once lived in Heaven still haunts his nightmares.

He drops his head in his hands.

Charlie’s soft footsteps –– she pulls out the chair next to his and sits down.

Lucifer sighs and settles for a partial truth. “You and I are very alike,” he says. “It is sometimes more natural for us to … care.”

Charlie’s hand lands on Lucifer’s back. He looks up at her.

“One day you’ll understand that caring is part of our punishment here,” Lucifer says. “The more you care for these sinners, the more it hurts.”

[AO3 LINK]

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor #lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #appleradio #duckiedeer #fanfic #mine #ao3 fanfic #ao3

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chernabogs · 20 hours

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ames you are COOKING (or should i say, planting???lol) SO HARD with the flower language prompts, 😭💖💞💖💞✨✨am really out here sobbing and crying over them like im watering these flowers with my Tears lol

so here i am requesting for these prompts: rosemary, begonia, pink camellia, dark crimson rose, purple hyacinth, blue salvia, zinnia

i picked these based on your initial tag about Maleficia and zinnia flower,,,, I SEE THE VISION so im requesting it now lol but also picked on prompts that reminded of Meleanor and Malleus,,, 😭i think therapy bills should be forwarded to Draconias instead, istg all they ever do is be in grief and loss /lh😭

if its too many, please feel free to choose whichever prompt you like and take your time in writing !! ☺️💞🌹✨✨

Ohhh I did my best here I promise LMAOOO. I tied in some easter eggs with other works i've done (namely Monody, Stasis, and Labours Gained). I hope you enjoy my absolute monstrous dump about Maleficia, whom I will die on a hill for tyvm

EMPTY CHAIRS

Inc: Maleficia, Meleanor, Levan, Lilia, Malleus (whole gang wow) WC: 4.2k :))) Warnings: Just some death, but I swear it ends on a happy note this time. Flowers: Begonia (How ghosts help the living live a little), Pink Camellia (Where I notice your absence the most), Dark Crimson Rose (The grave I visit everyday), Purple Hyacinth (The worst pain of my whole life and how it healed… multiple times) , Zinnia (The seats at the table and how they eventually became empty… multiple times) Summary: Moments where Maleficia was convinced her family was cursed, and a few times she truly wished this to not be the case.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

Their family may be cursed.

For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of such a matter in her mind. It had first passed briefly with the death of her father—the second monarch to take over after the initial uprising—and the subsequent death of her mother a few weeks later. No one was surprised when she went. Her grief for the loss of her love had been so profound that it had flooded Briar Nation, drowning both cattle and crops in her dismay. Maleficia had postponed her own coronation as the cleanup occurred. It felt ill-boding to be crowned while bodies were floating down the mountain pass.

The thought had returned once more when her husband vanished at sea, leaving her with a newborn hatchling on her own. Her love had been a strong headed man with adventure burning in his blood—it had been what drew her to him to begin with. That, and he was the only ex-sailor she knew who was bold enough to try and hold her for ransom. Wiping the deck with him had captured his heart—and the fact that he had been a dragon settled the Senate to a degree. But the sea is a fickle mistress, and although her love had skill and he had drive, even the most knowledgeable of sailors can never predict its next move.

She had not flooded Briar Nation like her mother had, and she had held herself together before her people, although the empty space in her bed and at the dinner table deepened the wound nightly. It was in the quiet moments alone when it was just her and Meleanor that she felt his absence the strongest.

In the beginning she loathed him for leaving her. Whenever she cradled their daughter as the hatchling shrieked and protested, blowing flame, and biting for flesh, she loathed him. Whenever she dealt with the Senate or another disaster befalling the Nation, she loathed him.

But when Meleanor learned to fly, learned to run, and shifted into her two-legged form for the first time, the hatred began to fade. Because although he had vanished into the mists on a voyage destined to fail, he had left her with the greatest treasure she could ever have—and for that alone she could hold no ill will.

Perhaps this sentimentality is why when Meleanor dragged a thin, sickly-looking bat into the halls of Black Scale, Maleficia heard her out.

“Please let him stay!” The princess had asked, green eyes wide as she grasped her mother’s skirts. “Please, mother!”

The other child had shrunk behind Meleanor, but shadows could not hide the burning defiance in the boy's eyes—a gaze of confrontation, and one that nothing truly innocent should hold. This is why she lacked the heart to say no. She quietly hoped that Lilia, as she would name him, would be the one to slay whatever reaper was following them—that the burning anger she had seen would ignite a fire that would cleanse the family of its suffocating misery.

With the presence of Meleanor, Lilia, and eventually Levan, the silent table Maleficia had sat at for so long soon became a place of raucous conversation again. Although she found herself scolding the three children more than once (especially Levan for his non-subtle attempts at discarding food), the lingering warmth she would feel as she gazed at the trio made her confident that this family curse was on the bend.

Naturally, it didn’t last.

The first time she heard of the Silver Owls, Meleanor was 200 years old and more focused on warding off suitors than an unmarked ship. Maleficia had allowed her daughter to indulge by instead consulting with an advisor alone in the dark of her office. The concern lingering in the advisor's words would grow to haunt her.

“Perhaps it is temporary?” She posited, trying her best to remain optimistic on the matter. Plenty of people came and went from Cape Sunrise. A single unmarked ship with a few scraggly sailor’s was not something she felt the need to stress over. The advisor seemed doubtful on the matter.

“But they have tools. Items designed to dig up our soil,” they had insisted, but Maleficia dismissed the concerns with a wave and a blase response.

“Let them try. They will not be able to break the first layer of our land.”

___________________________________

The first one to leave the table had been Levan. There were many soldiers and nobles who vanished before he did but, selfishly, he was the first one that Maleficia really felt the absence of. Levan had grown up from a non-confrontational child to her son-in-law, a general of the princess and a father to the future heir. His compassion had not faded despite the years of war that now tore the Nation apart. Maleficia knew this by the way she came across him one night, cradling his egg so gently while murmuring against its shell.

When he had noticed her, he had not corrected himself; if anything, he held the egg even closer. They had not exchanged too many words that night, but she sat next to him on the bench in the gardens, the silence speaking volume of her support to his decisions.

“You will return.” It was not a question—it was a demand. Her voice held the authority of a queen who had seen many, many losses in her long life. Levan had remained silent for a moment longer as his lips brushed against the shell of her grandson's egg.

“Always,” was the promise he made, and the last words Maleficia heard from him. When they didn’t receive notice for several days after he left, the conclusion was drawn that he was either dead, or the closest one could be to it. Meleanor held herself well in lieu of this information, as had Maleficia.

But the empty seat felt an ill omen.

___________________________________

The next one to leave the table had been Meleanor. When she was younger, she used to rest her head on Maleficia’s lap as her mother had fixed her hair. She would ramble on about her day and what she got up to with the two boys in the nonsensical fashion that many children do. Maleficia had listened with amusement, although her mind had always been half-focused on what she needed to do for her meetings the next day.

The regret of not giving Meleanor her full, undivided attention sunk in deep when she felt her daughter’s magic cut off. The bond in their family was intrinsically woven to allow them to get a sense of whether the other members were still alive. If asked, Maleficia might say it’s something of a dragon trait. Most of the time it served to be a blessing to allow her to know her family is alive and well.

When it cut off mid-emergency meeting, the abruptness had been so profound that she nearly collapsed then and there. Her breath had hitched, her words stuttering to a stop as she stared wide-eyed at the Senate members surrounding her. At first, she hoped it was simply a fluke—a disruption in the magic—until she didn’t feel it return and the horrible, tar-like panic of a mother when her child goes missing welled up in her heart. She was tearing out of the room before any of the Senate members even had a chance to speak, screaming for her guards and her soldiers to tell her what was going on at Wild Rose.

Her daughter, who spent her childhood running through the forests and laughing in the face of suitors. Her daughter, whose hair she would braid and then re-braid again when the girl somehow got burs in it. Her daughter, who was set to become a mother herself and experience all the precious moments Maleficia had.

Her daughter, whose body wasn’t even recovered at the end of it all.

___________________________________

The final one to leave the table was Lilia. In wake of the princesses passing, Malleus’ egg was put in the cradle tower, and Maleficia was designated to spirit him into hatching. She felt the faint connection of their magic from within the thick shell that guarded his body. His warmth, the subtle movements he made; they were all indicators that he was still alive and well despite his tumultuous arrival.

But Maleficia didn’t know if he would oblige. Hatchlings often needed the love of both parents to be shepherded forward—and Maleficia, now over eight hundred years old, already felt the strain of her magic from the conflicts going on in her Nation. There was no doubt that she held love for her grandson—but a lingering fear that her love wouldn’t be enough burned in her mind. This is what made her turn to Lilia, to send him on his quest around the world to try and find an additional means to bring the young prince forward.

For the first few decades, it worked well. Maleficia held the egg on a nightly basis and poured as much of her love and magic into it as she could. The egg consumed it all in a greedy fashion, demanding more every time she returned to the tower. One would think that Malleus was starving within by the way he pulled, and tore, and ripped at her powers to fuel his own development.

Then he ceased feeding. She recalls the first night it happened; everything had been going well, until the connection was suddenly severed, and the green glow within the egg dulled back into a faint tint of color. Maleficia had initially dismissed it as a one-off event. Until it happened again, and again, and again.

There’s a curious sense of panic that fills someone when they do everything they can to no avail. The panic she felt came in the form of a privatized breakdown in the tower. For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of a curse in her mind. Now, she was beginning to consider that it was not her family who was cursed, but rather just herself.

First it came for her father, and her mother shortly after. Then, when it grew hungry again, it ate through her husband and that of her daughters. Then it came for Meleanor herself, and now whatever reaper followed them was looming over her shoulder as she held Malleus’ egg and begged him to take something.

Pleas fell from the lips of a monarch as she rocked the egg, stroked its shell so softly, whispering to just eat a little more, just take a little more. But the egg had remained as cold and aloof as it had for several nights now. Her desperation mounted in an order to Baul to summon Lilia back—to slay whatever reaper was following them before it pried the last of her bloodline from her hands.

Her hopes of his role as the vanquisher of death came in an explosive hatching that she was informed of after it occurred. When she requested for Lilia to be brought to Black Scale to be reinstated in his role in his efforts, the Senate had then informed her that Lilia Vanrouge would never step foot in the capital again.

And so, in a span of mere moments, the final seat was emptied—and Maleficia found herself alone once more.

___________________________________

Grandchildren are the best reminders of the beauty and innocence of childhood.

When Malleus was first brought to her after he hatched, she didn’t want to touch him. The purple hue of his stomach and the way his green gaze darted around, drinking in the new world he emerged to, reminded her so much of Meleanor that she wanted to laugh at the cruel irony. The hurt that smouldered in her heart ignited back into a flame that found her turning a cold shoulder to the hatchling.

“Go clean him. He has amniotic fluid all over.” She remembers ordering, voice deceptively calm for the turmoil happening within. The wet nurse that was hired obliged as the hatchling shrieked and protested the frequently changing environment around him. His cries made Maleficia clench her jaw tighter as she stared resolutely at the battle plans drawn before her, her hands gripping the table enough to turn her knuckles white.

A few times she went to him in the beginning. The encounters lasted only as long as Maleficia could tolerate seeing how similar he looked to Meleanor before she would depart and leave him in the care of his wet nurse once more. Guilt fought with anger in her heart about the circumstances that she found herself in and her inability to overcome them. She could feel the ghost of her daughter chastising her in the corner for being so cowardly in her approach.

The breakthrough arrived when Malleus became ill. Grieves—a fever-like condition that affected fae children in particular—resulted in Maleficia sitting with her grandson one night as the exhausted wet nurse was excused for a long overdue break. She held him on her lap in the dark as his small form fought his fever, whispering how the stars that looked down from above were the eyes of the people who loved him, keeping him safe in this world. Her voice had cracked as she spoke, and it was only when a small whine left him did she realize she was hugging him tight to her body.

“I am so sorry,” she had choked out, unsure if the apology was for the hold she had or the neglect she had given so far. “Please forgive me.”

Malleus had twisted in her arms, small wings fluttering before he settled himself down and began to doze. He had already forgotten what upset him to begin with. She wished it would always be that way—but she knew that was nothing but a vague hope.

She loathed Meleanor for leaving. Whenever she cradled Malleus as the hatchling threw his tantrums, blowing flame, and biting for flesh as all children seem to do, she loathed her. Whenever she dealt with another part of the war or signed another treaty alone, she loathed her.

But when Malleus scrambled onto her lap mid-Senate meeting, chased after courtiers, and flew for the first time (admittedly, into a flock of pigeons), Maleficia loved her. Because although like her father she had vanished in an ill-fated decision, she had left a small reminder that she was never truly gone. Maleficia could comfort Malleus, could see the ghost of his mother in his clever little eyes, and for that alone she could hold no ill will.

Meleanor’s death had proved to be far worse than anything else—but her gift of the small dragon in her lap felt like the first steps towards recovery again. So, she had kissed between his horns that night and promised to herself that she would do all that she could to give him a future free of the misery that plagued their family thus far.

___________________________________

In the aftermath, she spent time with him whenever she could. Via dinners, via having him sit in on meetings, via walks in the gardens—whenever she could, she would be there. However, despite her newfound presence changing some things for the better, she remained unable to quell the curiosity that burned in her grandson's mind.

She found him in the mausoleum once. He was standing on the toes of his mother with his small hand touching her stone-carved face. Maleficia had not been to the mausoleum since the boy hatched so many years ago. The raw memories still stirred in her heart and seeing him look up at his mother with such a gaze of innocent adoration did nothing but unsettle her more.

When he noticed her, his face had lit up into a smile as he hopped back down and pointed up to one of the other statues. “This is grandfather?”

Maleficia’s gaze slid to where he was pointing. A strong jaw, a dangerous glint in stone-etched eyes, and a faint smirk painted the picture of the man she had once loved and held so dearly many years ago. Maleficia nodded. Malleus, taking this as encouragement, then ran back to the other statue he had been touching with his small hands.

“And this is mother?”

Again, Maleficia nodded. The painful similarities between Malleus and his mother were more apparent when they were side to side. If Maleficia were to squint, she could mistake Malleus as a younger Meleanor: the same horns, same hair length, even the same streak of mischief that got both into so much trouble.

Malleus had hummed thoughtfully before stepping down again. “Do you miss them?”

A deceptively innocent question. Of course she missed them. All she had left of her family was one grandson and three empty coffins: a husband at sea, a daughter in the hands of humans, and a son-in-law somewhere in the moors. “I do,” she offered back. “I miss them greatly.”

Malleus had asked her why, then. Children like him were filled with innocence and wonder about the world. He had no knowledge of the bodies that were lost, or the tragedies that had predicated his birth. Her reply did nothing but fuel an unease in the boy, for moments after she offered it, he ran back to her and threw his small arms around her waist.

When he hugged her, he clung with a ferocity that was baffling for his size. Her hands rested on his head and stroked his hair soothingly as she had done with Meleanor many times before she guided him away from the tombs and the memory of family he never met.

She should visit them more often now.

___________________________________

She rediscovers that there’s a privilege in watching someone grow. Lilia’s gradual return into their lives helps ease the stress of raising a child again in her older age, which is partially why she turns a blind eye every time Malleus slips out of the palace to visit the man. She’s honoured to observe in a more passive manner the way her grandson changes and grows as a person. She watches him go from spiteful towards humans to more amiable with the arrival of Lilia’s adopted son. As he grows before her eyes, she begins to see less of Meleanor and Levan in his features and more of just Malleus—the quiet, albeit arrogant, boy that was hers.

Time goes by faster as she ages alongside him. One moment he’s clinging to her skirts, and the next he’s off to NRC, and then finally, 178 years have passed like the blink of an eye. She used to bemoan how slow time was—and now she wishes it to ease off a bit.

She’s sitting in the gazebo in the gardens for reprieve, a novel in hand as the screaming of insects choruses a song for her amusement. The aroma of flowers surrounds her and for a moment she feels utter peace in the world. The summer is ending and there are no celebrations or events to concern herself with. For the first time in what feels like eons, Maleficia Draconia can breathe.

The sound of someone approaching puts a pause in this.

She lowers her book to peer over at whoever is coming, hoping silently it isn’t an advisor or a courtier seeking out an audience on the sly. Fortunately, the sight of two horns and a scowling face turning the corner nullifies this as she turns back to her book.

“Finally decided to see the sun?” She muses as she hears him stepping onto the gazebo platform. She waits for his response, but only comes to feel surprised when Malleus kneels by where she sits and does something that he hasn’t done in a long time now—he places his head in her lap. At his age, his body is too tall now to really kneel efficiently at her side, but by the gods does the boy try as he hits his head right down. Her hand comes up on instinct to brush strands of his dark hair behind his ear as he looks over the gardens, his shoulders tense with stress.

They’re silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of screaming insects from beyond before Malleus speaks.

“The gardens look atrocious.”

Maleficia raises an eyebrow as she lowers her book to look at where he’s staring. Her hand continues to stroke his head soothingly as she huffs a soft laugh. “Our groundskeepers are going for a more ‘untamed’ look this season.”

“I have counted twenty-six thistles in the minute I have been here.” Malleus shoots back as his hand comes to rest by his face. “It’s late in the season. They might be growing lazy.”

“Nonsense. You know how hard working they are. You spent ample amounts of time with them when you were younger.” She fails to hide the smile teasing on her lips with this comment. Malleus’ temper tantrums had landed him in more than enough problems in his youth. Problems which were often rectified by a gentle lesson of how hard it is to fix up his messes—garden destruction included.

Malleus deigns her with a unprincely snort in response. They fall back into a warm silence as she keeps her hand on his head and returns her attention to her book. She knows that something is on his mind, but she retains her silence both to give him an opportunity to speak, and to enjoy the moment that they’re having. In the privacy of the garden, they can get away with this rare display of familial affection.

She feels him sigh as his eyes flutter close before he speaks up. “Do you ever feel… unease?”

“Unease?” She hums quietly as she turns a page. “On many occasions I have, yes. Unease tends to go hand in hand with some of the things I have dealt with.”

She knows he doesn’t mean in the sense of his royal duties. Malleus is an unusually quiet and introverted boy—but she had noticed him being more so the past week as summer began to inch towards its end. He opens his eyes and sighs again before withdrawing to sit back on his knees.

Maleficia wisely closes her book and sets it down before affixing him with as stern of a look as she can muster without chuckling. “Sighing and moping in the corners does little to aid me in providing advice.”

Malleus’ gaze goes upwards to stare at the ceiling of the gazebo before his expression drops to a pout. “I am feeling reluctant to return to NRC.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Maleficia quietly reaches her hand out to brush his bangs back from his forehead, revealing the scale pattern beneath. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut at the gesture as his pout remains present.

“Three years have passed now, and I have yet to feel included in the school environment. Spending my days with those I already know from here hardly feels like an efficient use of time.” His jaw clenches. “Every effort I make to form any sort of connection to others feels like it’s a pointless endeavour at this rate.”

“Malleus, you must be patient with these things. It takes time for people to warm up to the likes of us. You must simply continue being yourself, and the right people will make the effort to get to know you. I understand it may seem upsetting right now, but you must simply keep trying your best.” A faint smile touches her lips despite the worry gnawing at her heart. She wishes she could do more, but she also understands that these are things he must figure out himself. “You’re going to this school to gain new experiences and see the world beyond our little Valley without the Senate looming over you. Things will work out in the end.”

Malleus’ body seems to relax at her words as he opens his eyes again. His expression eases to his usual neutral look as he nods slightly. “... yes, I suppose you are correct.”

“I often am.” She pinches his cheek lightly, causing the scowl to immediately return to his face as he jerks to avoid her grasp, making her laugh in turn. “Besides, are you not excited to see Lilia, Silver, and Sebek more often again? Well. More often than you do already.”

A pointed look has him averting her gaze as she picks her book up again. His demeanour reminds her of Meleanor, but the similarities no longer ache when she considers them. This was Malleus—her grandson, not his mother, nor his father—and she was eager to see the person he was still destined to become. “Now, you should be packing, should you not? We don’t need the crisis we had last year where we were all hunting down books for you last minute.”

Malleus groans softly before rising to his feet and brushing his pants off. He presses a brief kiss to her forehead, coaxing another smile from her lips before he pulls away.

“Yes, grandmother,” he grumbles with all the moodiness of an embarrassed teenage boy, and Maleficia can’t help but feel happiness at seeing it. Cursed or not, she will continue to enjoy these moments of joy as long as she may have them.

#twst #twst fanfiction #maleficia draconia #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #meleanor draconia #levan draconia #40 min spent on deciding a header alone #'hey amy she hasnt even been in the game yet' and?#listen maleficia may be 0% in-game but she is 100% in my brain thank u #obviously some flexibility with the facts here idk who malleus' grandpa is or what maleficias thoughts were during malleus' upbringing #but AAAAAAA listen... her.#lian i hope i did u proud i even made it a happy ending LMAO

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