Twisted Wonderland Master List

"Prefect, have you seen Rook anywhere?"

Epel looked distraught. He had spent the last three hours searching for his upperclassman, only to come up empty handed. He was now searching the courtyard again to no avail and was hoping you could give him a hand.

"Oh, yeah. He's been following me around all day," you answered.

"What?" Epel looked doubtful. His eyes scanned the empty paved path behind you. "How do you know?"

"Watch this."

You raised your hands above your head, forming a nice ring shape. No sooner did you lock your fingers together in the air than an arrow whizzed between your arms. It struck the ground right in front of Epel and chipped off part of the sidewalk.

Epel let out a swear and stepped back. "Wha' in tarnation was that!?"

You let your arms fall back down. "I think it's some kind of game. Rook hasn't actually spoken to me since he started doing it, but it's kinda fun. We've been practicing."

Halour, I'm kinda curious... What crimes have Cale done, exactly? I see a number of "crime list" videos about him but the wiki don't really confirm anything💀

— 🌄

...The Time Has Come. 😌

I have long promised this list, so perfect timing! Thank you very much for this question! Allow me to introduce you to:

Cale Henituse's Crime List

(Just for the fun of it, I tried to give a different example for every single one of these. Some events repeat, but not the crimes!)

1) Accessibility of Records for Tax Department

Cale looted significant amounts of money from the Magic Tower and many other places, without leaving any legal trace.

2) Affray

Multiple occasions, like pretty much everything that happened in the Molden Kingdom.

3) Aggravated Assault

Cale rarely gets physically involved in a fight, but I think suddenly strangling Prince Adin qualifies.

4) Aggravated Burglary

Every single time "Real Arm" is in business.

5) Allowing Dog or Cat To Be a Nuisance

How else would you call encouraging your animal shape-shifting kids to be involved in criminal activity? Also Fluffy the Puppy was under Cale's command even if he technically belonged to Princess Jopis, I say it totally counts.

6) Ammunition – Possessing, Acquiring or Carrying

Cale intentionally pocketed magic bombs from the Plaza Terror Incident and used them later on.

7) Animal Cruelty

...Does Cale subjecting On to his "nice act" in front of Litana counts? Oh it definitely counts. That poor child.

8) Armed Robbery

That time Cale & co. robbed the Mercenary Guilds in Leeb-An City, for instance.

9) Arson

Setting the Wind Island on fire.

10) Assaulting or Resisting Police

That time Cale & co. went to Sez Kingdom. Pretty sure the knights trying to stop them from kidnapping the king counts as "resisting law enforcement".

11) Being Disguised With Unlawful Intent

Priest Cale in a nutshell.

12) Blackmail

That time Cale talked to Antonio Gyerre.

13) Breaking and Entering

Cale coming to the Sekka Estate.

14) Careless Driving

Debatable since a fantasy world doesn't own cars – but. I count Cale breaking through walls of a maze on a mother-effing Stone Imugi as "irresponsible driving". Just think of what kind of example you're setting for the kids, Cale!

15) Carrying a Loaded Firearm in Public

Cale has Raon following him everywhere, so.....?

16) Carrying Out Plumbing Work Without License or Registration

Cale has an underground villa in the Forest of Darkness. I'm pretty sure whatever construction work they did there would count as illegal.

17) Carrying Out Work Without a Building Permit

Cale had Dragons teleport an entire castle into the Forest of Darkness. Yet again, involves a building with no legal paperwork.

18) Causing Injury Intentionally

Obviously. Like making fiery lightning bolt strike in the middle of an Elf Village attack. Or hitting a radish with a rock.

19) Collecting or Making Documents Likely to Facilitate Terrorist Acts

Everything involving Knight Rex after he became a terrorist.

20) Conspiracy

Cale and Alberu talking about anything.

21) Control of Body Armor

After reading it up, I decided that mana disruption device ABSOLUTELY falls into this category.

22) Control and Use of Dangerous Articles

Cale adopting pretty much everyone on his team.

23) Corrupting Benefits Received By Commonwealth Public Official

Cale using Alberu's golden plaque to trap the White Star with Embrace. I mean, if being infected with that clown doesn't count as corruption, I don't know what does.

24) Cultivation of Narcotic Plants

Cale letting Hong eat plants in the Forest of Darkness. It IS, in his own words, his own backyard.

25) Dangerous Non-Guard Dog Attacks or Bites a Person or Animal with Person in Control

Cale letting Choi Han beat up Adin. ...Well, Choi Han COULD be counted as a Guard Dog, but. They never formalized the paperwork? I say it counts since Choi Han isn't legally registered!

26) Dealing With Property Suspected of Being Proceeds of Crime

Cale renting a house from Odeus Flynn.

27) Dealing With Property Which Subsequently Becomes an Instrument of Crime

Cale buying the Magic Tower before he proceeds to kidnap Mueller.

28) Delaying the Entry of Police

Cale not letting the law enforcement know about the Plaza Terror Incident beforehand. Also, activating the mana disruption device, knowing it would hinder their efforts to stop terrorism. ...Yes Cale & co. prevented said terrorism better on their own but it still counts.

29) Deliberately Omitting Information

Cale making an Vow of Death to Choi Han claiming that he can't tell him anything.

30) Destroying, Damaging and/or Interfering with Any Works of a Water Corporation

Setting the Lake of God's Tears on fire.

31) Destroying or Damaging Property

Cale destroying houses in the Gyerre territory.

32) Destruction of Evidence

Cale and Raon blowing up Hais Island 5 to cover up Ron's infiltration.

33) Directing the Activities of a Terrorist Organization

Cale's entire career in a nutshell, really.

34) Discharge Missile to Endanger Person or Property

Cale blowing up the whirlpools in the Ubarr territory.

35) Dishonestly Cause a Loss

Cale tricking the White Star into the abandoned underground city.

36) Disturbing Religious Worship

Cale messing with the Sun God's Church for being mean to Mary.

37) Driving an Unregistered Vehicle

Cale & co. using Mary's bone Dragon.

38) Drunkards Behaving in Riotous or Disorderly Manner

Cale pretending to be drunk in the Gyerre territory.

39) Endangering Safety of Aircraft

Cale letting his allies abroad an airship during the Jungle battle.

40) Entering a Place Without Authority or Lawful Excuse

Cale rescuing Raon.

41) Extortion With Threats to Destroy Property

Cale threatening the slave traffickers in the Gyerre territory.

42) Failure to Notify the Authorities of Criminal Activity

Cale doesn't notify Alberu of crap, unless it's to make him clean-up the aftermath.

43) Failure to Register a Pet

Pretty sure Cale registered exactly none of his allies. ...Except maybe the Tiger Tribe that one time they moved into Harris Village with Deruth's permission. Everyone else? Not a chance.

44) Falsifying or Concealing Identity

Cale acting as Naru von Ejellan in Endable Kingdom.

45) Forgery of Documents

Cale and Taylor faking an ancient document to fool the White Star.

46) Fraud

Cale promising Plavin Singten benefits for siding with the new Sun Church.

47) Getting Funds To, From, or For a Terrorist Organization

Cale sponsoring his allies, like giving Rosalyn magic stones.

48) Going Equipped for Stealing

Cale making Real Arm uniform.

49) Handling Stolen Goods

Cale using Divine Items.

50) Identity Theft

Cale introducing himself as Bob.

51) Indecent Assault

Cale telling Choi Han to strip that one time. (Yes, it actually happened. ...Not the way shippers wished for, obviously.)

52) Inducement to Be Appointed Liquidator

Cale helping Princess Jopis overthrow her sister on the condition of benefits for the Roan Kingdom.

53) Insider Trading

Cale selling Alberu dead mana from a Dragon.

54) Intentionally or Recklessly Causing a Bushfire

Cale setting that bush monster on fire in Xiaolen.

55) Introduction of a Drug of Dependence Into the Body of Another Person

Cale letting Rosalyn drink coffee on Earth 3.

56) Kidnapping

Cale & co. capturing Venion Stan.

57) Leaving Children Without Supervision

Cale letting the kids look for Mueller.

58) Lighting of Fires in the Open Air

Cale using Fire of Destruction against Sky Attribute.

59) Loitering Near Schools

Cale & the kittens in the Sez Kingdom.

60) Loitering With Intent to Commit an Indictable Offence

Cale letting Clopeh Sekka spot him that first time.

61) Manslaughter

Cale letting Choi Han, Rosalyn and Lock go and destroy the Archduke's Estate.

62) Membership of a Terrorist Organization

Cale making up Real Arm.

63) Murder

Cale killing the White Star.

64) Negligent Manslaughter

Cale letting Ron go on a vacation.

65) Non-dangerous Dog Attacks

Cale letting Choi Han spar with Hilsman.

66) Obtaining Property By Deception

Litana giving Cale free stuff.

67) Offences Connected With Explosive Substances

Cale commissioning Eruhaben to create Dragon's Rage.

68) Other Acts Done in Preparation for, or Planning, Terrorist Acts

Every morning Cale drinks lemon tea.

69) Possessing More Fish Than the Catch Limit

Cale dealing with Whales. ...Whales are fish, what are you talking about?

70) Possessing Controlled Weapon, Housebreaking Implements, and Things Connected With Terrorist Attacks

Everything Cale owns in the Super Rock Villa.

71) Possession of Precursor Chemicals

Cale making Billos buy alchemy ingredients.

72) Prohibited Weapons

Cale utilizing the Dragon Bones in battle.

73) Providing or Receiving Training Connected With Terrorist Acts

Cale letting his people train in his backyard.

74) Public Nuisance

Cale letting Choi Han act.

75) Reckless Conduct Endangering Life and/or Endangering Serious Injury

Cale every time he uses his Ancient Powers.

76) Recruiting for a Terrorist Organization

Cale adopting the Tiger Tribe.

77) Robbery

Stealing magic stones from the Alchemy Towers.

78) Sabotage

Cale going behind the Empire's back while he helps out the Whipper Kingdom.

79) Setting Traps to Kill

Cale Ghost Operation during the sea battle against the Indomitable Alliance.

80) Smuggling

Cale helping Cage and Taylor into capital.

81) Stalking

Cale entering Alberu's bedroom whenever he wants.

82) Stating False Name When Requested

Cale never letting anyone know about the transmigration and calling himself Cale Henituse.

83) Tax Evasion

Willful tax evasion for sudden wealth increase.

84) Terrorist Acts

Cale & co. detonating a bomb at Maple Castle.

85) Theft

Cale obtaining the blood drinking crown.

86) Threats to Inflict Serious Injury

Cale & co. threatening King Bakehe.

87) Threats to Kill

Cale cheerfully informing Adin he's going to personally kill him.

88) Torture and Interrogation

Cale ordering Beacrox to deal with the Magic Spearman.

89) Unauthorized Access to Restricted Data

Cale & co. coming to the Directory. ...Yes Bud was the Mercenary King so technically it was legal, except from the Mercenary Guild's perspective, it was break and entering.

80) Unlawful Assembly

Cale hanging out with Dragons.

81) Unlawful Oaths to Commit Treason

Cale promising to destroy the Alchemy Belltower to Rei Stecker.

82) Unlicensed Driving

Cale riding Dark Tiger Alberu.

83) Willful Damage

Cale employing Archie to destroy Duke Sekka's statues.

Any other crimes I forgot to list? Let me know!

***

BONUS CONTENT

With the help of others, we've expanded the original list of Cale's crimes!

84) Aiding and Hiding Fugitives

Cale helping out Hannah and Jack.

85) Aircraft Hijacking

Cale & co. taking over the Empire's airships.

86) Being an Accessory to Crimes

All Cale's deals with Billos in a nutshell.

87) Child Labor Law Violation

Cale making children work for their meals. Even if he's actually just adopting strays under the guise of formal work, said formal work is still illegal. Just admit you care, you weirdo.

88) Defamation

Cale spreading recordings of Adin being evil acros the Empire.

89) Deliberate Damage and/or Destruction of Currency

Cale happily throwing coins into lava.

90) Ecoterrorism

Wiping whole islands off the map counts as severe destruction of the environment.

91) Fly-tipping/Littering

Cale casually defenestrating Adin. Watch where you throw garbage, Cale. There are trash bins for a reason!

92) Harassment

Cale ordering Beacrox to beat up mountain bandits.

93) Illegal Detention/Imprisonment

Capturing prisoners of war, like the Dragon Half-Blood or the Flame Dwarves.

94) Illegal Goods Trade

Cale selling and buying items at the Caro Kingdom Auction.

95) Impersonation

Cale pretending to be different people in the Indignity Test.

96) Intentional Destruction of Cultural Heritage

Cale setting the Lake of God's Tears on Fire. Also, blowing up the Magic Tower.

97) Plunder of Public Property

Cale & co. destroying the walls of the capital of the Empire.

98) Trafficking Endangered Plants Accross Borders

Cale transporting the Fake World Tree in his badge.

99) Treason of the Crown

Cale treating his Hyung-nim with utter disrespect, such as comparing the Shining Sun of the Kingdom to a squirrel.

100) Trespassing

Cale in Endable Kingdom.

BONUS BONUS CONTENT

Not technically illegal, but:

101) Crime Against One's Well-Being

Cale abusing his health in such horrific ways even a regeneration power cannot keep up with him.

102) Crime Against Fashion

Cale preferring only black and plain clothes when he could look good in anything.

103) Crime of Self-Delusion

Cale thinking he still has a chance at slacker life.

104) Spreading Misinformation

Cale's track record of causing misunderstandings everywhere he goes is frankly terrifying.

105) THAT FACE

Cale's fabulous looks are a crime in of itself. It deserves a spot on the list.

The Beginning pt. 2 (Failed Awakening Au)

Betraying the Gods in Three Easy Steps || Malleus Draconia

Step 1: Befriend the Demon King.

Step 2: Fall in love.

Step 3: Quit your hero job.

The first thing you learned upon being chosen as the hero was that the gods were, in fact, morons.

This revelation came to you as you stood in their grand celestial court, bathed in holy light, staring at the pantheon of divine beings who had just bestowed upon you a sword that actively whispered threats into your ear.

"Go forth, O Chosen One," boomed the god of war, his six eyes burning with sacred fire. "You must slay the Demon King who lurks in his cursed lair atop the Black Hills!"

You shifted your weight and cleared your throat. "Okay, so... question. Just a tiny one. What, exactly, has the Demon King done?"

The gods exchanged glances.

"He is evil," the goddess of fate offered.

"Uh-huh. Examples?"

"He... exists," the god of light said, waving a golden hand vaguely.

There was an awkward silence. You rubbed your temples. "Right. But, like, has he pillaged villages? Enslaved kingdoms? Kicked a puppy?"

"He has refused to die despite our many attempts to kill him," the god of judgment said gravely.

You squinted. "So you're mad that he’s alive."

"YES," they all said in unison.

Fantastic. You had been chosen to carry out a divine grudge match.

Still, you weren’t in any position to argue. The gods had given you a bunch of ridiculously overpowered artifacts, including a holy sword, an indestructible shield, and a cloak that supposedly made you invisible but mostly just made you look like a very blurry ghost. They also kind of expected you to die like all the previous heroes, but that was a problem for later.

So here you were, standing at the edge of the Black Hills, staring up at the Demon King’s lair—a suspiciously well-maintained castle that looked less like a fortress of darkness and more like the summer home of someone who enjoyed gardening.

This whole thing reeked of bureaucracy.

With a deep sigh, you tightened your grip on your murderously sentient sword and marched forward, fully prepared to commit deicide if this entire mission turned out to be as dumb as you suspected.

You had braced yourself for a dark, ominous fortress filled with twisted creatures, rivers of lava, and at least one chandelier made of bones. Instead, you walked into what could only be described as a cozy study.

The room was warm, lit by a fireplace that crackled gently in the corner. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with neatly arranged tomes, some of which looked suspiciously like romance novels. A tea set rested on the table, next to an open book. And sitting in an armchair, casually flipping through the pages, was a man.

A very tall, very elegant man with sharp green eyes and black horns curling from his head.

He blinked at you, clearly just as surprised as you were. "Oh," he said. "Hello."

You stared at him. "Uh. Hi?"

There was a long pause. He looked at your very dramatic hero attire, then at the glimmering, divinely blessed sword in your hand, then back at you. "I assume you’re here for a reason?"

You shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, so, the gods sent me to kill the Demon King, but like… lowkey? I don’t know what he looks like."

The man nodded, as if this was a completely reasonable statement. "I see." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Would you like some tea?"

You squinted at him. "I feel like you’re not taking this whole ‘assassination attempt’ thing very seriously."

"Should I?" he asked, pouring tea into a cup with unnerving grace. "You don't seem particularly invested in it yourself."

You couldn't exactly argue with that, so you sat down, placing your god-blessed weapon awkwardly on your lap. The man slid a cup toward you. The tea smelled… nice. Suspiciously nice. You sniffed it. "This isn’t, like, drugged or cursed, is it?"

He looked amused. "Only if you consider chamomile a powerful sedative."

You took a cautious sip. It was delicious.

"So," he said, leaning his chin on his hand. "Tell me about the outside world. It’s been a while since I last left these hills."

You shrugged. "Nothing much. The gods are idiots, as usual."

His lips curled in interest. "Oh?"

You leaned forward conspiratorially. "Okay, so get this. When they summoned me, they gave me this holy sword, right?" You tapped the weapon resting on your lap. "Only problem? It won’t shut up. The gods literally forgot to turn off its voice function, so now it just screams battle cries at all hours of the day. I had to wrap it in three layers of cloth just to get some sleep."

He let out a chuckle, eyes gleaming. "That is… incredible."

"Right? And that’s not even the worst part. The god of wisdom—actual title, by the way—accidentally set fire to their own temple last year because they miscalculated a lightning spell. They blamed it on ‘mystical forces’ but everyone knows they just got their math wrong."

The man—who, now that you were really looking at him, was ridiculously attractive in a dark-and-mysterious way—laughed. It was a rich, deep sound, the kind of laugh that made you feel like you’d just told the best joke in the world.

You grinned, feeling oddly comfortable. "Oh, and don’t even get me started on the god of fate. She got into a brawl with the god of harvest because she made a prophecy that all the wheat fields would burn down, and then the god of harvest was like, ‘You know that’s literally my job, right?’ and cursed her with hay fever. Now she sneezes every time she tries to predict the future."

Your new tea-drinking companion actually had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter.

You took another sip of tea, feeling very proud of yourself. "Anyway," you said, stretching your arms. "By the way, have you seen the Demon King? Because, like, technically, I’m still supposed to be doing that job."

The man calmly pointed to himself.

You stared at him.

He stared back.

You blinked. "I'm sorry. What."

"Malleus Draconia," he said, setting his teacup down with the kind of elegance that made you feel like an unwashed peasant. "And you are?"

You were still reeling from the realization that you had spent the last half hour drinking tea with the exact person you were supposed to kill, so it took you a second to answer. You introduce yourself. "Hero chosen by the gods. Here to, you know…" You made a vague stabbing motion.

Malleus nodded, completely unfazed. "Ah. Yes. That would explain the weaponry." He glanced at your holy sword, which had mercifully remained silent for the past few minutes. "Though, I must say, you don’t seem particularly enthusiastic about your mission."

You sighed and set your cup down. "Yeah, well. I don’t really get why the gods have it out for you. I mean, do you actually do evil stuff? Are you stealing souls? Raising the dead? Kicking puppies?"

Malleus tilted his head, considering. "No, no, and—well, I suppose there was one incident with a puppy, but in my defense, I was trying to return it to its owner, and it misunderstood my intentions."

"That’s a really vague way to say 'I accidentally terrified it.'"

He sipped his tea, saying nothing.

You squinted at him. "So you’re telling me the gods declared a holy crusade against you for… what? Vibes?"

Malleus shrugged. "I assume so. They don’t seem to like my existence very much."

"Wow. Must be nice not giving a shit."

"It is quite freeing," he agreed. "Would you like a tour?"

You blinked. "A tour? Of your evil lair?"

"My home," he corrected, as if you were the unreasonable one. "I assume you have never seen it before."

"You assume correctly." You rubbed your chin. "Eh. What the hell. Show me around, mighty Demon King."

And so, instead of assassinating him, you spent the next hour wandering through the halls of his "evil lair" (read: very fancy castle), learning about his book collection, admiring the admittedly cool-looking stained-glass windows, and getting distracted by a particularly fluffy cat lounging on one of the rugs.

Somewhere along the way, you had fallen into easy conversation, sharing more absurd stories about the gods’ incompetence while Malleus listened with increasing amusement. You barely even noticed how natural it felt, how quickly you forgot the whole "mortal enemies" thing.

It wasn’t until you were about to leave that you remembered why you had come in the first place.

"Ah, right," you said, gripping the hilt of your holy sword. "The whole… uh, slaying thing."

Malleus lifted an eyebrow.

You exhaled and held the sword out to him. "Here. Take this."

He looked at you, then at the sword, then back at you. "You are giving me your divine weapon?"

"Look, man, I don’t know if you can tell, but I am very bad at this job."

Malleus took the sword, examining it with mild curiosity. The moment his fingers curled around the hilt, the weapon, which had remained blissfully quiet all day, suddenly came to life.

"FOUL BEAST! UNHAND ME AT ONCE—"

Malleus flicked his wrist, and the sword immediately went silent.

You gaped at him. "You can do that?!"

He hummed. "It appears so."

You put your hands on your hips. "You know what? Yeah. You can keep it. I don’t want it anymore."

Malleus smiled. "How generous of you."

You waved him off and turned toward the exit. "Anyway, this has been fun and all, but I should probably get going before the gods smite me for treason. I’ll, uh… I’ll get the job done next time."

Malleus watched you with that same unreadable expression, something like quiet amusement playing at the edges of his lips. "Of course. Next time."

You nodded, totally believing yourself, and left.

The gods were getting suspicious.

You could tell by the way they kept summoning you more frequently, their celestial faces lined with divine skepticism, their glowing, omnipotent eyes narrowing just a little more each time you gave your mission report.

So you did what any responsible, chosen-by-the-heavens hero would do: you doubled down on the lies.

“I’m gathering intel on the enemy.”

A few gods murmured in approval, nodding at your strategic foresight.

(The truth? You had spent the last four days sprawled across an absolutely sinful couch in Malleus’s absurdly cozy castle, debating whether a dragon could, theoretically, play the lute. Malleus had very strong opinions about claw dexterity and string tension. You were just trying to figure out how to smuggle the couch home.)

“I need to study his weaknesses.”

More nods. One god even stroked their beard, looking impressed.

(The reality? You were currently studying how many cookies you could consume before he started looking mildly concerned for your well-being. The number was high. Concerningly high. You were probably committing a sin against your own digestive system, but that was Future You’s problem.)

“He’s probably planning something evil, so I need to keep an eye on him.”

Now the gods were practically glowing with approval. One clapped you on the back, nearly knocking you off your feet.

(Meanwhile, in the demon king’s lair, Malleus was sitting in his massive library, sipping tea like a distinguished nobleman who had never even considered jaywalking, much less world domination. At one point, he sighed dramatically and looked out the window, the very picture of a wistful poet pondering the meaning of life. You had watched him do this for ten whole minutes, waiting for a sign of villainy. Nothing. The man was the least demonic demon king you had ever seen.)

The gods, thoroughly convinced that you were hard at work, dismissed you with a vague warning to “stay vigilant” and “not fall for any demonic tricks.”

You barely made it back to the castle before collapsing onto your new favorite couch with a groan. “They think I’m doing such a good job,” you mumbled, stuffing another cookie into your mouth. “I could probably ask for a raise.”

Malleus looked up from his book, amusement dancing in his emerald eyes. “A raise? What exactly would they be paying you for?”

“For my noble heroism,” you said around a mouthful of cookie. “My unwavering dedication. My strategic mind. My—” You gestured vaguely. “—efforts.”

Malleus hummed, setting his book aside. “Ah, yes. Your valiant efforts. Lounging on my furniture. Eating my desserts. Entertaining me with tales of divine incompetence.”

You wagged a finger at him. “You say that like it isn’t an important job.”

He smirked. “Oh, I quite enjoy your company. But I do wonder how long you plan to keep up this charade.”

“As long as I can,” you said without hesitation, grabbing another cookie. “At this point, I think I deserve an award for Best Hero in the Field of Procrastination.”

Malleus chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you with what was definitely, absolutely, 100% not fondness. Probably. “Indeed.”

Getting Malleus out of his lair was easier than expected. Getting him to wear the disguise, however, was a battle of wills.

“It is absurd,” he said flatly, staring at the comically large hat in your hands.

“Absurdly effective,” you countered.

“It looks like it belongs to a—”

“Fashion icon?”

“A cursed scarecrow,” he finished, unimpressed.

“Okay, rude. But listen, if you walk into town looking like that—” you gestured vaguely at his horns, “—people will either think you're about to declare war or host a very dramatic poetry reading. The hat helps.”

Malleus gave you a long, contemplative look, then, to your eternal delight, sighed and took the hat. It sat atop his head with the solemn dignity of a royal crown, though the sheer size of it made him look like he was about to start selling potions out of a roadside wagon.

“Very well,” he declared. “Let us proceed.”

Thus began the grand adventure of sneaking the Demon King into town.

Turns out, no one even noticed.

Which, to be fair, was kind of expected. This was a town where a man once tried to pay his taxes in live chickens and where the local bard wore sunglasses at night “because it added to his mystique.” Some guy in a huge hat? Not even in the top ten weirdest things people had seen this week.

Still, you felt an odd sense of pride as you dragged Malleus through the bustling streets. The Demon King, who had spent untold centuries isolated in his ominous gothic estate, was now watching a juggler toss flaming batons while a street vendor tried to sell you “cursed amulets” that were clearly just painted rocks.

He was fascinated.

His first stop was the bakery, where he became personally and spiritually invested in the concept of croissants.

“These are quite remarkable,” he murmured, carefully inspecting the flaky layers. “It is as if the very essence of light and air has been woven into dough.”

“You’re making it sound way fancier than it is,” you snorted. “It’s just bread.”

“A divine bread,” he corrected.

“You’re literally a demon.”

“I can still appreciate divinity when I taste it.”

Next, you took him to the bookstore, where he spent an unreasonable amount of time debating which tomes to purchase. At one point, you caught him flipping through something called One Hundred and One Curses to Ensure Your Enemies Remember You Fondly, which felt both deeply specific and incredibly on-brand.

While he was distracted by a book of poetry so dramatic it might as well have been personally written for him, you slipped away for a moment. A nearby flower stall caught your eye, and on impulse, you picked up a delicate bloom, its color strikingly similar to Malleus’s eyes.

You returned just as he was still deep in thought over which book to buy. Without a second thought, you reached up and tucked the flower behind his ear.

Malleus froze.

His expression didn’t change immediately—he just stared at you, his usual unreadable gaze flickering with something… complicated. His fingers hesitantly brushed against the petals, and for a moment, he looked genuinely baffled, as if no one had ever done something like this before.

You grinned at him. “Looks good on you, Your Evilness.”

Malleus exhaled a short, amused huff. “I must admit, I do not often receive accessories from my sworn enemies.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” you said, already dragging him towards the next store. “Now come on, I still need to introduce you to the single greatest achievement of human civilization.”

He tilted his head, intrigue sparking in his expression. “Oh?”

“Fried food.”

For the first time in centuries, the Demon King of Darkness, Terror of the Gods, Eternal Wielder of Unholy Power… was genuinely excited.

You were not bringing Malleus more books because you liked him. Obviously. That would be ridiculous. You were simply executing a strategic maneuver—an information-gathering mission, if you will. The more books he had, the more he would talk, and the more he talked, the more you learned.

This was all very professional. A tactical decision. Absolutely nothing to do with the way his eyes lit up whenever you brought him something new or the fact that you may or may not have started associating his lair with peace instead of doom.

So, with arms full of books that were definitely not handpicked to match his interests (including one on celestial phenomena, which was coincidental and not an attempt to make him happy), you strolled into his lair like you owned the place.

And that was when you met him.

Lilia Vanrouge.

You knew the name. You’d heard it whispered in the temples, spoken with the kind of reverence usually reserved for plagues and natural disasters. The Scourge of the Battlefield. The War Demon. The Dark General Who Consumed Kingdoms Whole.

You had also heard it from Malleus, who described him as eccentric, mischievous, and one of the few people he respected.

And the moment you laid eyes on him, you realized once again that the gods were complete and utter morons.

Because standing before you was not a nightmarish harbinger of destruction. No, the man currently floating upside down in the air, cheerfully snacking on something, looked more like an impish uncle who would absolutely teach children how to commit tax fraud for fun.

He looked at you. You looked at him. He grinned. You immediately braced for impact.

“Well, well! So you’re the fabled Chosen Hero,” Lilia chirped, righting himself mid-air and landing gracefully before you. “How fascinating! I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“I—” you began.

“I must say, this is not what I expected!” he continued, completely ignoring you. “From what I’ve heard, heroes usually barge in with righteous fury, divine proclamations, and very little self-preservation! Yet here you are, standing in the Demon King’s domain, casually handing him books.”

You turned to Malleus, who looked completely unbothered, still examining the latest tome you had brought him. “You told him?”

Malleus, without looking up: “He asked.”

You turned back to Lilia. “And you’re not freaking out?”

Lilia tilted his head, amused. “Should I be?”

“I don’t know, I just assumed one of Malleus’s generals would take issue with me being, you know, the divinely ordained slayer of your king?”

Lilia snorted. “Oh, please. Do you have any idea how many so-called ‘heroes’ I’ve seen storm in here? You’re already my favorite.”

“…Thanks?”

“Of course! It’s just so refreshing to see one of you actually using your head for once.” He floated up again, upside down, resting his chin on his hands. “Though I must admit, I was expecting something a little more… impressive.”

You blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lilia smirked and gestured to the table where you and Malleus had been previously engaged in very serious discussions. Your stomach dropped. You had left out your papers.

Specifically, the ones where you had been doodling different armor designs and asking Malleus for his fashion advice.

Malleus, the traitor, casually picked one up. “I am partial to this one,” he said, holding up a particularly elaborate sketch. “The embroidery detailing is quite striking.”

Lilia laughed.

You buried your face in your hands as the War Demon, the Living Nightmare of the Battlefield, the Eternal Scourge of Kingdoms—wiped away tears of laughter over the fact that instead of slaying the Demon King, you had apparently made him your personal stylist.

It was, all things considered, not your proudest moment.

It had been months since you first stepped foot into Malleus’s lair, and, well… things had progressed.

Not in the way the gods wanted, obviously. If they had their way, Malleus’s severed head would be mounted on a sacred altar by now. Technically, you were still on your holy mission to vanquish the Demon King. Technically, you were gathering information. Technically, you had every intention of fulfilling your duty.

But, if one were to take a completely unbiased look at your current situation… it might appear that you were just hanging out.

A lot.

Like, a lot, a lot.

Malleus now made your drink exactly the way you liked it—sometimes before you even asked. You didn’t even have to tell him anymore. You’d wander into his lair after a long day of doing absolutely nothing related to demon slaying, and he’d already have your favorite drink ready, at the exact right temperature.

And you? You, the so-called “Divine Champion of Justice,” the god-appointed warrior of destiny? You had, against all logic and reason, started bringing him gifts. It wasn’t even a conscious decision at first. But every time a merchant came through town, you found yourself idly picking up little trinkets or books that looked like they’d interest him.

You told yourself it was just diplomacy. A strategic bribery effort. It had absolutely nothing to do with how much you enjoyed seeing his face light up whenever you presented him with something new.

You weren’t even sure when the shift had happened.

One day, you were the brave hero, standing before the terrifying Demon King with divine orders to smite him. And now? Now, you were practically living in his lair. Casually.

You’d gotten comfortable here, a fact that you refused to acknowledge out loud. Malleus’s lair was peaceful, quiet, and—to your horror—pleasant. The enormous gothic windows, the soft candlelight, the bookshelves stacked high with ancient tomes… It was all just so much nicer than the gods’ temples, which were always cold, sterile, and filled with divine bureaucrats who asked too many questions.

And worse—worse—when you weren’t here, you were usually thinking about what to do for Malleus next.

Should you bring him something from the next merchant caravan? Maybe take him to another festival? He liked those. Maybe introduce him to the weird little bakery in town that sold those oddly-shaped pastries you kept seeing. He might find them amusing.

You were planning surprises for him.

Like a friend.

No. Not just a friend.

A best friend.

You slammed your head onto the nearest table with a thud.

The gods could never find out about this.

You were having an existential crisis. A real one. The kind that made you stare at your reflection in a soup bowl and wonder if you had any meaningful purpose in life beyond being the divine equivalent of a glorified errand runner.

Lilia, of course, noticed. Because he was an agent of chaos and probably fed off emotional turmoil like some sort of tiny, ancient demon bat.

“You seem troubled,” he had said, watching as you slumped dramatically over Malleus’ very fancy dining table, exhaling the world’s most pitiful sigh. “Why don’t you and Malleus spar?”

Your head lifted slightly. “What?”

Lilia smirked, clearly pleased that he had successfully baited you out of your misery. “It’s been months, has it not? If the gods ask, you can tell them you’ve been honing your skills, preparing for the final battle.”

That… actually wasn’t a bad excuse. The gods had been getting nosy again, demanding updates. Maybe you could make this work.

Which was how you ended up here.

Standing in the grand, sprawling courtyard of Malleus’ lair, stretching out your limbs while he calmly removed his cloak, draping it over a bench like he was about to have a casual stroll instead of engaging in combat.

“You sure about this?” you asked, gripping the hilt of your sword.

Malleus tilted his head, looking amused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You smirked. “Just saying, if I win, I demand tribute.”

Malleus chuckled. “And if I win?”

“… Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Lilia was off to the side, grinning like this was the best form of entertainment he’d seen in centuries.

You inhaled deeply, grounding yourself. Okay. This was it. You were going to fight the Demon King, and it was going to be serious. No more cozy tea parties. No more lighthearted book shopping trips. It was time to—

“Would you like me to go easy on you?” Malleus asked.

You scoffed. “Pfft. No. Give me everything you’ve got.”

Malleus hummed, looking almost pleased at your confidence. “Very well.”

And then, without warning, he disappeared from sight.

You barely had time to register the movement before a gust of wind slammed into you at full force, sending you flying backwards like a poorly thrown ragdoll.

You crashed into a bush.

For a moment, you just lay there, staring at the sky, contemplating every choice that had led you to this moment.

Then, groaning, you rolled out of the shrubbery, shaking off the twigs as you picked up your sword. “Okay,” you muttered, adjusting your grip. “That was just a warm-up round.”

Malleus was still standing in the same spot, looking entirely unbothered.

And his hands were behind his back.

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you—” You took a deep breath. “Are you fighting me with your hands behind your back?"

“Of course,” Malleus said pleasantly. “You told me not to go easy on you.”

You could hear Lilia choking on laughter in the background.

You squinted at Malleus, wondering if you should feel honored or insulted.

Fine. You could work with this. You charged again, ducking low, aiming for his legs. A flicker of green magic intercepted you, sending a harmless but powerful shockwave that knocked your weapon out of your hands.

You stared at your empty hands.

Malleus looked mildly impressed. “Good attempt.”

You retrieved your sword. Tried again. And again. And again.

Malleus never used his hands. Never lifted a finger. He just sidestepped your attacks with casual ease, occasionally flicking his magic at you, like you were a mildly annoying housecat trying to pounce on a much larger, much more powerful predator.

Somewhere along the way, you stopped trying to win and just started having fun.

And then, eventually, your energy gave out. You collapsed onto the ground, spread-eagled, arms outstretched, staring up at the sky as you caught your breath.

Malleus stepped closer, looming over you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“I do believe you’re my favorite hero,” he mused.

You groaned and slapped a hand over your face.

The gods were going to kill you if they ever found out about this.

You couldn’t sleep.

Which was fine. Heroes probably weren’t supposed to sleep. Heroes were supposed to lie awake at night, tormented by the burden of their destiny, haunted by the weight of their mission, plagued by—

"What if I let him win?"

You bolted upright so fast you nearly knocked yourself unconscious on your headrest. You slapped a hand over your mouth like you had just spoken a heresy so foul the gods would strike you down immediately.

That was not a normal thought for a hero to have. That was the most absurd, blasphemous, outrageous, morally reprehensible—

"Am I technically dating the Demon King???"

NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO—

Your hands went to your temples. You squeezed your eyes shut. Maybe if you just thought hard enough, you could physically remove this thought from your brain. Or maybe, if you focused, the gods would finally smite you like they had always threatened to do.

You flopped back down onto your mattress, dragging a pillow over your face, as if that would smother the absolute nonsense your mind was generating tonight. But the problem was, now that the thought had entered your brain, it had built a home there. It had a mailbox. It was paying taxes. And now it was decorating with even worse thoughts.

Because now you were remembering the way Malleus had smiled when you let him talk for two whole hours about gargoyles. How his eyes had lit up like you were the first person to ever listen. The way he carefully, deliberately made your tea exactly how you liked it, as if he had memorized it from the very first time. The way he always tilted his head when he listened to you, genuinely fascinated by even the stupidest things you said.

The way he let you exist in his space. Not as an enemy. Not as a hero. But as…

… oh no.

OH NO.

You slapped a hand over your mouth again. Your other hand clenched into the sheets like you were physically trying to hold onto your sanity.

You were NOT—this was NOT—

You rolled over, kicking your legs violently under the covers. Maybe if you shook your entire body hard enough, you could dislodge this thought from existence. Yeet it into the void. Purge it from reality. But all that happened was that you pulled a muscle in your back and now you were lying there, in agony, emotionally and physically, because you were starting to realize something terrible.

You weren’t just fond of Malleus. You didn’t just enjoy his company.

You liked him.

You LIKED him.

YOU LIKED THE DEMON KING.

You sat up again, legs crossed, hands clasped together in front of you. “Dear gods,” you whispered, voice trembling, “please smite me where I sit. I have failed you.”

Nothing happened.

“…Cowards,” you muttered.

You flopped back down, staring at the ceiling in pure despair.

You were going to bed. You were going to sleep, and when you woke up, you would not be in love with the Demon King. You would be normal. You would be reasonable. You would be a good hero.

You closed your eyes.

Five seconds passed.

You opened them again.

Gods help me.

Literally.

You were having the time of your goddamn life.

Malleus' lair—again, as usual. You were halfway draped across his lap, leisurely popping fruit into your mouth while Lilia spun some absolutely deranged tale about the time he tricked a king into believing he was a vengeful forest spirit. Malleus sipped his tea, vaguely amused, and you? You laughed so hard you nearly choked on a grape.

The atmosphere? Immaculate. Life? Good. Everything? Perfection.

And then the door SLAMMED open.

You flinched so hard you nearly tumbled off Malleus’ lap. The tea cups rattled. The room’s easygoing tension evaporated as you stared at the figure in the doorway—some guy, just some guy—storming in with his sword drawn, looking like he was about to say the most dramatic thing you’d ever heard in your life.

“I HAVE COME TO SLAY YOU, DEMON KING—”

He stopped.

Because you—the actual hero—were very much not slaying the Demon King. You were, instead, sprawled across him like a spoiled house cat, eating his fruit and giggling like an idiot.

A horrifically long pause followed as this budget hero—who was not chosen by the gods, by the way—took in the scene.

Scrambling upright, you waved your hands frantically. “This—this is not what it looks like—”

“It is exactly what it looks like,” Lilia corrected, taking a dainty sip of tea. “Please, continue.”

Budget Hero looked insulted. Absolutely offended. “You—you’re supposed to be a hero! You’re supposed to be fighting him, not—” He gestured at you and Malleus with a face of pure betrayal. “—whatever this is!”

Panic surged. “I am fighting him!”

Budget Hero squinted.

You cleared your throat. “It’s just—” A vague gesture at Malleus. “A mental battle.”

Lilia snickered. Malleus lifted a brow, deeply entertained.

Budget Hero wasn’t buying it. His face hardened with righteous fury as he turned his sword back on Malleus. “No matter! If the gods will not choose a proper hero to strike you down, then I shall—”

And that’s when it happened.

Before Malleus could even think about obliterating him, you moved first. Instinctively. Violently. Viscerally.

Budget Hero never saw it coming. His weapon went flying in a single fluid motion, and before he could process it, he was done. Just absolutely demolished.

Silence.

Then:

Lilia. Wheezing. “Oh, that was brutal.”

You stared down at Budget Hero’s crumpled form, still gripping your weapon, stunned.

Because here’s the thing. That wasn’t a calculated attack. It wasn’t self-defense. It wasn’t even to protect Malleus, exactly.

It was pure, unfiltered spite.

Who did this guy think he was? Marching in, sword drawn, acting like he was Malleus’ sworn enemy? That was your job. Your dynamic. The thought of anyone else trying to take that place—trying to take any place in Malleus’ life that wasn’t yours—was so disgusting, so offensive, that your body moved before your brain did.

…Oh no.

Quickly sheathing your weapon, you coughed into your fist. “Welp. That’s enough murder for today! I should get going!”

Malleus blinked at you, unbothered. “You only just arrived.”

Lilia, still recovering from laughter, wiped a tear from his eye. “Stay! We haven’t even finished discussing your new armor—”

“Nope!” You laughed—too forcefully. “Nooope! I just—I have to, uh—cleanse myself. Spiritually. From, um. Today’s events.”

Malleus tilted his head, intrigued. “You’ve killed before, haven’t you?”

You sweat. “Yeah, but this one was just, uh, really emotionally charged. You know how it is.”

Lilia’s grin was so knowing it made you ill. “Do we?”

You needed to leave immediately.

“Anyway, see you later, besties!” Backing toward the door, you threw up a hand. “Malleus, you’re great, Lilia, you’re also great, I’m normal, and definitely not in any sort of crisis! Bye!”

And then you fled. Like a coward.

You had been avoiding him.

Technically speaking, you had only been gone for a week. But considering you usually barged into his lair daily—arms full of books, or pastries, or some weird trinket you thought he’d like—it was an absence that did not go unnoticed.

After all, you had never run before.

Even when you first met him, when you had been sent to kill him, you had walked right up to him and said, "Hey, so the gods told me to kill you, but honestly, I don’t feel like it." And he had smiled, slow and intrigued, and offered you tea. That had been the beginning of everything.

You had stayed. You always stayed.

But yesterday, after that absolute disaster of an encounter with that third-rate hero, after watching yourself cut him down before Malleus could even lift a hand, after realizing with gut-wrenching horror that you had reacted viscerally to the mere idea of someone else claiming that they were destined to fight him, to be his rival, you had fled.

Because what the fuck did that mean?

Because why had your stomach turned in disgust at the thought of someone else standing in your place?

Because you had looked at Malleus, and something inside you had snarled mine, and the weight of that realization had nearly knocked you off your feet.

So you ran.

Cowardly. Embarrassing. You, the so-called chosen hero, the one who had spent months dragging Malleus through town, shoving hats over his horns, feeding him sweet treats, listening to him ramble about gargoyles with the fondest expression on your face—you had panicked and run away like a flustered maiden in a fairytale.

You didn’t even have the excuse of battle wounds. The only wounds were entirely self-inflicted, entirely emotional, and entirely stupid.

So today, after daysof pacing and telling yourself to get it together, you forced yourself to return.

You spent the entire week gaslighting yourself into thinking nothing happened.

That reaction? Not weird. You were just… caught off guard! Maybe a tiny bit possessive. Maybe incredibly deranged about Malleus to the point where you instinctively obliterated someone for even thinking about taking your role as his arch-nemesis—but that was normal. That was just healthy rival dynamics!

So when you walked into Malleus’ lair the next week, it was with the confidence of someone absolutely not having a mental breakdown over their supposed mortal enemy.

“Yo,” you greeted, hands in your pockets, a casual whistle leaving your lips. “What’s up, big guy? Ready for some classic, good old-fashioned, not-at-all suspicious hero vs. villain conflict today?”

No answer.

It was silent. Too silent.

Usually, Lilia was there to greet you with some teasing remark. Usually, Malleus could sense you the moment you entered his territory, and you’d be met with a soft “You’ve returned.” Usually, there was some kind of warmth, a quiet hum of life in these ancient halls.

But today, there was only cold stone.

Your stomach twisted as you searched for him.

You found him by one of the enormous windows, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the sky with an expression you’d never seen before. His shoulders—usually poised with an almost arrogant regality—were slack. His jaw, tight. His eyes, distant.

For the first time since you met him, he looked exhausted.

“…Malleus?”

Your voice came out softer than you expected. Almost hesitant. As if part of you already knew what he was about to say.

He didn’t turn, didn’t shift, didn’t react right away. Just stood there, gazing out at the vast horizon like he was searching for something.

Finally, after a long, slow exhale, he spoke.

“…I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Your breath caught.

You had been gone for a week. You figured skipping a few visits wouldn’t matter much. That you could collect yourself, sort out whatever this was, and return once you weren’t a flustered disaster.

But standing here now, staring at him, it hit you just how much he had felt your absence.

His fingers curled a little tighter behind his back. His voice, barely above a whisper—

“If someone were to kill me,” he murmured, “I think I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

The breath whooshed out of your lungs.

Because suddenly, you understood.

He wasn’t just speaking in hypotheticals. He wasn’t musing about battle. He wasn’t challenging you, wasn’t provoking you, wasn’t setting the stage for a dramatic clash between hero and demon king.

No.

Malleus had lived centuries watching heroes march to his doorstep, brandishing divine weapons, shouting righteous declarations, vowing to end him. And yet, he had never once fallen. Never once faltered. Never once let a blade even graze his skin.

But yesterday, when you hadn’t returned, he had thought—ah. So this is how it ends.

If he had to be slain, he wanted it to be by your hand.

If he had to see someone for the last time, he had hoped it would be you.

You broke.

Instantaneous. No hesitation. No rational thought. No clever quip or theatrical deflection. No last-minute is this a good idea? self-reflection. Just a sharp inhale, a rapid closing of distance, and then—

You kissed him. Hard.

Not soft, not slow, not gentle. Desperate. Raw. Months of pent-up feelings, of endless late nights spent thinking about him, of hands brushing and shared laughter and quiet understanding and—fuck. You were so gone for him.

Malleus stiffened—but only for a second.

Then he melted into you.

His hands rose—one tangling in your hair, the other curling around your waist, pulling you so close you swore you could feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest. He kissed back just as desperately, just as fiercely, like he’d been waiting just as helplessly as you had.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he stared like he’d never seen you before. Wide-eyed. Lips parted. His grip on you so tight, like he was terrified you’d vanish if he let go.

“…I suppose that was your way of saying you refuse?” His voice, unsteady.

A breathless, shaky laugh. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah, I refuse.”

His forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your lips. His hands didn’t loosen their hold.

“…Then don’t ever leave me.”

You closed your eyes. Gripped his shoulders.

Nodded.

“Never.”

The celestial being—divine embodiment of justice and order, an ancient force revered throughout history—descended upon Malleus’ lair in a blinding display of light and holy power.

Wings of pure radiance unfurled. A golden staff crackled with divine energy. A voice, imbued with the might of the cosmos, boomed across the chamber:

“CHOSEN HERO. DEMON KING. IT IS TIME FOR YOUR DESTINED BATTLE.”

You blinked. Looked up from where you were curled against Malleus, sipping tea and reading a book titled 1,001 Architectural Wonders (That Are Not Gargoyles, Please Stop Asking).

Malleus glanced up from the game of chess he was currently losing against Lilia. “Oh?” he said, perfectly unbothered. “Has it truly been that long?”

“Yes, it has been that long!” the celestial being thundered. “You were sent here to vanquish the Demon King, not—” their eye twitched as they took in the scene, “—play house with him.”

You frowned. “Okay, first of all, rude.”

"Rude? RUDE?!" The celestial being practically vibrated with fury. "YOU LIED TO US!"

“I did not lie,” you said, deeply offended. “I gave you very detailed mission updates.”

“‘I’m gathering intel on the enemy’?”

“I was!” you huffed. “Did you know Malleus actually prefers honey in his tea instead of sugar? Crucial information.”

The celestial being sputtered. “You literally wrote, and I quote—” they conjured a glowing scroll and read aloud, “‘I need to study his weaknesses.’”

“Well,” you said, nodding toward Malleus, “he is weak to compliments. Call him ‘awe-inspiring’ and he gets all flustered. It’s very endearing.”

The being looked one breath away from smiting you. “AND ‘HE’S PROBABLY PLANNING SOMETHING EVIL, I NEED TO KEEP AN EYE ON HIM’??”

You pointed at Malleus, who was currently sipping tea with perfect elegance, staring at you like you personally hung the moon in the sky.

“Look at him,” you said dryly. “He’s clearly up to something.”

Malleus delicately set down his teacup. “Indeed,” he mused. “I was just plotting whether to have scones or biscuits with my tea tomorrow.”

The celestial being’s golden aura flickered like a candle in the wind. “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KILL HIM!”

Malleus frowned. “That seems excessive for a difference in snack preference.”

The celestial being inhaled sharply, hands trembling. You were pretty sure you just heard them whisper I hate my job.

“Enough!” they roared. “FIGHT! NOW!”

You and Malleus exchanged a long glance.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, with all the excitement of two overworked employees being forced into another useless meeting, you both sighed and reached for the nearest decorative swords.

You lifted your sword. Malleus did the same.

And then, with all the enthusiasm of two toddlers being told to pretend-fight for Grandma’s amusement—

—you both half-heartedly tapped your swords together.

clink.

“There,” you said, monotone. “We fought. Can we go back to cuddling now?”

The celestial being screamed.

The celestial being didn’t so much escort you to the heavens as haul you there like a parent dragging a misbehaving child to a disciplinary hearing. You barely had time to adjust to the blinding light before being unceremoniously dropped onto the cold marble floor.

Above you, the gods loomed from their gilded thrones, their divine radiance pulsing with something that was not quite anger—because gods did not feel anger, only divine disappointment, which was so much worse.

The celestial being, standing smugly beside them, crossed their arms. “I told you they weren’t taking this seriously.”

The first god spoke, voice like rolling thunder. “Chosen hero.”

Another voice, this one like a windstorm, joined in. “You were sent to slay the Demon King.”

A third, calm and cold as deep water. “And yet, you have done nothing.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the celestial being snapped their fingers, and suddenly, an image materialized before you. A glowing vision of you, fully reclined across Malleus’ lap, popping fruit into his mouth while he read a book.

You stared.

“…Okay,” you admitted, “this looks bad.”

The celestial being glared. “Because it is bad!”

The gods ignored them, their voices deepening into something more final.

“This war against the Demon King has lasted centuries,” one intoned.

“You were our last hope,” another added. “If you do not complete your duty, there will be no other hero for another hundred years.”

“Without a hero,” the celestial being hissed, “there will be no one to protect the world from his inevitable destruction.”

Their words should have shaken you. You should have felt the weight of them pressing into your spine, the consequences of this moment sinking into your bones.

Instead, you just felt tired.

Tired of this war you never understood. Tired of the gods, who sat safe in their gilded heavens, while they sent hero after hero to their deaths.

Tired of pretending that Malleus was something he wasn’t.

You took a slow breath. Then, you reached up and began unbuckling the divine armor. The metal rang loud as it clattered to the ground, reverberating through the silent chamber. You ripped the sacred amulet from around your neck, tossing it aside like an afterthought. The enchanted boots that carried you here? Gone.

The gods watched, speechless, as you stripped away everything that bound you to them.

Then, you stood taller than you ever had before.

“I quit,” you said simply.

The chamber erupted. The celestial being choked. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” you interrupted, stretching your arms, reveling in the freedom of it. “And I am. You want a hero? Find another poor fool. I’m done.”

The gods stared, as if they truly couldn’t comprehend your audacity.

“There will be no other hero for a century,” one god reminded you. “Do you understand what you are forsaking?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Unnecessary slaying.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, the celestial doors parting effortlessly before you. The gods did not stop you. Perhaps they couldn’t.

You returned to Malleus’ lair lighter than you had ever felt.

He was waiting for you when you arrived, standing near the entrance, his expression unreadable. His eyes—those impossibly green eyes—watched you carefully, searching for something.

“You’re back,” he said softly.

You stepped closer, meeting his gaze. “Of course.”

Something flickered in his expression—something relieved, something like hope.

You exhaled, the weight of everything lifting off your shoulders. “I’m free now, Malleus. No more gods. No more divine duty. Just… me.”

For the first time, you saw it—true joy in his gaze. He stepped forward, closer, until there was nothing between you.

And then he kissed you.

It was not hesitant. Not questioning. It was certain, like he had always known this moment was inevitable, like he had only been waiting for you to realize it too.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his lips curling into a smile.

“I was hoping you’d choose me,” he murmured.

You smiled back, fingers threading through his.

“I always would have.”

It happened over tea, as most of your most life-altering conversations with Malleus tended to.

You had been lounging on his absurdly comfortable sofa, sipping something floral he had brewed just for you, feeling very much like a person who had absolutely no idea that their entire life was about to be rearranged.

Malleus, ever composed, set down his own cup and regarded you with something almost too fond.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, “about how long we’ve been together.”

You blinked. “How long?”

He hummed, tilting his head. “Since you gave me your sword, of course.”

You continued blinking, because surely, surely you had misheard him.

“…My sword?”

Malleus nodded, utterly serene. “Yes. It was an elegant proposal.”

You made a sound. It wasn’t a word, exactly, but it conveyed your confusion well enough.

Malleus watched you, waiting patiently for what he must have assumed was joyous realization.

You, meanwhile, were still trying to process whatever the hell was happening.

“…Proposal,” you echoed, because maybe if you repeated it, reality would shift into something that made sense.

Malleus offered a rare, knowing smile. “A symbol of devotion. Offering one’s most treasured possession to another—it is an unbreakable vow, a declaration of lifelong commitment. The moment you placed your sword in my hands, you became mine.”

A long pause.

You stared at him. He continued to look pleased.

You, meanwhile, were experiencing an entire existential crisis.

“Hold on,” you said slowly. “So you’re telling me that, in demon culture, giving you my sword meant—”

“A proposal,” Malleus finished, nodding. “It was quite romantic.”

Your brain short-circuited. You thought back to that moment, a year ago, when you had so casually handed him your holy sword, thinking haha, maybe he can make this thing shut up.

In reality, you had apparently gotten engaged like an absolute moron.

You set down your tea with the careful precision of someone trying very, very hard not to spiral. “Malleus,” you said, voice deceptively calm, “why didn’t you tell me?”

He blinked, puzzled. “I thought you knew.”

“Malleus, I’m human.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Ah. I see the problem now.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply. “So, in your mind, we’ve been betrothed this whole time?”

“Yes,” he said, utterly unbothered.

You stared at him. He stared back, composed as ever.

And then you just—laughed. Because of course. Of course you had accidentally proposed to the Demon King like an idiot.

“Well,” you said between snickers, wiping at your eyes. “Since we’re apparently already engaged, wanna just go ahead and get hitched?”

Malleus’ grin was blinding.

“Absolutely.”

Masterlist

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Twisted Stories Masterpost

Heya, this is going to be a silly little series about Yuu and their friend Finn (by @the-fab-fox) getting in trouble and (hopefully) falling in love with their respective assholes love interests. There's technically a story/timeline but sometimes it is just random slice of life. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Arc 1

1. A Meeting

2. "How to motivate the troops" - A plan by Cater Diamond

3. Two seconds memory

4. Shipnames are hard to create

5. Baking Hell

6. Rule overlooked

7. Suboptimal situation

8. A strange phenomenon

9. Two seconds memory part 2

10. The Forever Question

11. A weird feeling

12. (Coming Soon)

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“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry... I’ll be good I promise, I’ll change I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Please I can’t live without you, you’re my savior, my goddess please don’t throw me away I’ll die without you”

“I hate being alone, it’s so cold here without you. Not being able to see you scares me, I feel so uneasy. I exist for you, I won’t leave this room unless I’m with you, I won’t even talk to anyone b-but you are able to do those without me, because you don’t need me. I can smell other people whenever you come back to this room, I know I have no right to complain about such things but it breaks my heart I can’t help it. I exist for you, I breathe for you, I live for you. This worthless life belongs to you so please keep it, don’t throw it away don’t neglect it”

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Ooooh careful, Alastor! Your line between manipulation and genuine care is getting blurryyyyyyyyyy 👀!

I missed drawing them man! Miss Sweet and mister Scary in situations together is my favourite! ❤️ (but did it have to span 9 coloured pages I almost died?!)

(No I won’t do a part 2 😘!)

Types of kisses (w/ Baizhu, Childe, Dainsleif, Thoma)

Something entirely self-serving because I'm having a funky mental health day.

Tags: Kissing, touches, slight hair pulling, neck kisses

mentions of nsfw/ more suggestive

Baizhu: Gentle kisses. Maneuvering around eachother at the pharmacy, only pausing for him to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. His hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you into him so he can kiss your face gently. It's a small, silent 'I love you' in the middle of a busy day. His gentle eyes looking at you from across the room beckoning you for another silent 'i love you'.

Slow and passionate kisses. The moment you two have an actual moment to yourselves, his hands are holding your face and making sure he has your full attention before kissing you. His lips soft and gentle against yours, you can even slightly taste some herbs on his tongue. His hands always move to your hair, toying with the tresses and tugging on them gently. If time permits it, he'll tug your top down to expose your shoulder and kiss down the skin to leave marks for only him to find.

Childe/Tartaglia: Playful kisses. He's the type to cover your eyes and have you guess who's behind you. It's always him and you know that but you like to play along and sometimes for shits and giggles you answer with someone else's name. When he shakes his head disapprovingly, he'll peck your lips sweetly. Other than that, he likes peppering your face in kisses as he tickles you and makes you laugh. Your laughter is his favorite thing in the whole world, so on a day to day basis he just keeps the affection light and sweet.

Playful kisses don't just stay wholesome, chasing you to the bedroom with laugh before pinning you to the wall. He likes making things a game up until he catches you. His smile turns slightly sinister before kissing you deeply, thigh wedging between your legs as he pulls your hair to expose your neck.

Dainsleif: Goodbye kisses. When you're out and about, it'll be a miracle if he pulls you to the side for a kiss. It's incredibly rare. With all he's been through, the worst fear in his life is losing more people he loves. So when you are about to go your seperate ways for whatever, he pulls you to the side and looks you in your eyes. His hands holding your face and stroking the skin before telling you to be safe and kissing your forehead/lips/cheek. He also likes to remind you that if you need him, he'll be right there.

Feverish kisses. When he needs you, he absolutely needs you. Kissing you like his life force depends on it. Walking you backwards and pressing you into the nearest surface. Every emotion he has is put into kissing you, savouring you. His hands map out your body to make sure he never forgets a single curve or bump.

Thoma: Sneaky kisses. Thoma loves to steal a kiss while he's working, pulling you to the side behind a corner to kiss your lips quickly and then get back to work. The kisses leave him giddy the rest of the day and the more he manages to steal from you, the more he can't stop smiling. He thinks it's just so fun to do almost like it's a game to see if you can kiss without getting caught.

Gentle kisses. In contrast to how he is around others. When it's just the two of you, he treats you like glass. Not kissing you too roughly to show you how much he cherishes you. He smiles alot inbetween kisses, pausing to look at you only to smile even more. He kisses down your body with the same energy, taking time to make sure you feel cherished.

A/N: Just wanted to write something for me! Will work on the new requests I received now, I had a busy week.

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Homocipher has gotten me in a choke hold right now i wanna right a twist fic for it

Would people be down if I wrote one with the Mc being the same as the homocipher Mc?

like maybe after escaping instead of going back they end up in twisted wonderland. if I do that would it be cool if I made a language barrier? Cause that was the Homocipher!Mc’s thing(among other stuff). That they could figure out the ghost/monster language.

Best part of could make this all one sided. The twisted cast could all end up liking the Mc but they already have this scrunckly monster/ghost guy waiting for them.

Like maybe during the ghost bride event Homocipher!Mc is just chilling with Eliza. Playing along and everything. (I have to double check the lore here)

Or or when people talk about how scary/intimidating some of the twist cast.

First years telling Homocipher!Mc the dos and don’ts: “Malleus is so scary..”

“Leona is so intimidating when he’s mad..”

“Vil is to intense when he’s serious..”

“Remind me not to angers Riddle..”

“Them? Oh they aren’t scary at all. I mean I’ve met worse. I’ve fucked worse.. I’m not sure why you guys are scared of them. They’re cute even..”

many concerned looks when Homocipher!mc through a themself into fight and like fights really dirty.(serial killer coded Fr)

Edit: so I did it. I made the fic there’s only one chapter so far, think of this as a teaser. The prologue to the whole story really.

it’ll be on both Wattpad and Quotev. If people really want till figure out AO3 too.

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