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joycrispy · 1 year

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One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #unfortunately I do not have trains of thought #only long meandering strolls of thought #sorry about it #anyway tl;dr Crowley is a nerd #also I have a strange emotional attachment to the idea of 1500's Crowley...#...facedown in a pile of Mona Lisa sketches; drunkenly info-dumping about Aziraphale #and Da Vinci is just like. 'Ahhhh mio amico Antonio. You fucking simp.'

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mycartoonmonster · 18 days

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With the context of the Book of Bill and the characterisation of Bill, I ended up finding that all the members of the Zodiac have a thing or two in common with Bill Cipher.

Six fingered hand-Stanford Pines

-Both have a genetic mutation which they got ostracized for but made them interested in the worlds beyond.

- Both are egocentric and smart.

-Both have a thirst for revenge to prove the people around them they were wrong about them.

-Both didn't mean to endanger their dimension (Ford wanted knowledge and Bill wanted to show them the stars)

-Animals aren't safe around them (Ford set a bird on fire by mistaking it as a Phoenix and Bill ripped out a deer's teeth in his debut and in the storyboards of Weirdmageddon P1 he uses a deer to forcibly kiss Ford's statue as if they were his Barbie and Ken)

-Both have a weird sense of humor

-Both are considered criminals in the multiverse (Theft in Ford's case and Manslaughther, Murder alongside other stuff like mass property destruction in Bill's case)

-Both project onto others they see as similar to themselves (Bill with Ford-and on a minor scale Pacifica-and Ford with Dipper)

-Both ended up getting tricked by a conman (Ford by Bill and Bill by Stanley)

-Both are authors! (The Journals and the Book Of Bill, which are essentially diaries that talked about what their lives were, a bit about themselves and the creatures they found through their life)

Crescent symbol/Fish-Stanley Pines

-Both are scammers

-Both share mannerisms, one of them being referring to Ford as Sixer(which led to people theorizing Stan was Bill's reincarnation)

-Bad relationship with their parents but seem closer with their mom (Bill's parents tried to make him blind to the 3rd dimension but it seems Bill genuinely loved his mama Scalene while Fildbrick didn't value Stan as much as Ford and Caryn was the only one worried about Stanley and was one of the 2 persons that assisted his fake funeral)

-Both were seen as a bad kid growing up (Bill by the people on his dimension due to his mutation and the habilities this granted him while Stan was seen as lesser than Ford due to the latter's gigantic IQ and his rebellious nature)

-Both made one mistake that heavily affected the course of their lives and can never return home because of it (Stan ruining Ford´s project and Bill setting his home ablaze)

-Both didn't mean to push Ford away from them nor put their families in any danger initially(Bill wanted Ford to continue with the portal and got sad after their fallout and Stan did what he did in a moment where he wasnt thinking rationally and it cost him 30 years of loneliness and guilt)

-Both went to jail on different occassions (Stan on Colombia and Bill after going on a rampage in the bar while drunk after the fallout with Ford and the Theraprism if you wanna add it)

-Both tend show only 1 eye to people as well as a cane (Bill only has 1-although he can shapeshift and have multiples as seen in his demon form- and he uses the cane mostly in Dreamscappers, a bit in Sock Opera and in the intro for Weirdmageddon while Stan uses a patch and an 8 ball cane for tourists during his mystery man persona)

-Both used their art to influence people (Stan with the Mystery Shack's attractions and Bill using animation and figurines which failed, unlike Stan's works, unless you count the Lil' Stanley comic)

-Both have used a red demon costume once (Bill in the book and Stan in a picture in Gideon Rises)

-Both wanted to set the journals on fire (with Bill actually doing it in Weirdmageddon Part 1)

-They find Dipper's disstress/fear and annoyance hilarious (Stan teasing him vs Bill terrorizing him)

Glasses-Fiddleford McGucket

-Both end up going insane after a traumatic event (The destruction of his home dimension in Bill's case and McGucket taking a peek into Bill eating his own exoskeleton after crossing the portal)

-The times they helped/aided people it ended bad for them (In McGucket's case, Dipper with his new voice and the Gideon Bot that ended up getting destroyed in the scuffle with Dipper and in Bill's case; Dipper became Bill's puppet and Gideon didn't get the Shack's signature hence he had to use dynamite as a plan B and Weirdmaggedon only lasted 4-5 days for the Henchmaniacs while in McGuckets case's Shacktron didn't survive against Bill as they didn't consider protecting the arms and legs the same way that the Shack was protected)

-Both played a part in the creation of secret societies (Fiddleford by creating The Societyvof the Blind Eye and Bill by the Ciphertologists and inderectly creating the Anti-Bill Cipher society by terrorizing 4 persons)

-Underneath all that insanity and very deep in that broken mind, there is one very smart broken guy.

-Both lost their families (At least Fiddleford could reconciliate with some of it but Bill doesn´t have the same chance anymore)

Bag of ice-Wendy Courdory

-Both are rebellious and dislike authority figures.

-They like to do what they want with no regard for rules

-Both abused their power on more than one occasion (Wendy by stealing snacks and throwing water balloons at the elderly when working at the pool and Bill throughout his deals and in Weirdmageddon)

-They've had guts to face powerfull creatures (Bill the Time Baby and Wendy stuff like the ShapeShifter, the Unicorns or the Eye Bats in Weirdmageddon)

-Both lost a mom when they were young.

Questioning Mark-Soos Ramírez

-Both are smarter than what they look like upon first sight.

-Both lack a dad (Bill's died while Soos's left him)

-They have a funny side to them (Bill more leaning to sadism though)

-Both had their eyes damaged by Mabel (Soos by getting attacked with glitter in Stan Is Not What He Seems and Bill by getting sprayed with graffiti paint in Weirdmageddon Part 3)

Stiched heart-Robbie Valentino

-Both had their relationships ruined by their own arrogance, negligence and dishonesty (Bill being an abusive partner while Robbie was immature).

-They did not take the fallout with their partner well (at least Robbie would never dare to do anything similar to what Bill did)

-They tried to pursue their partner after the break up but to no avail (Bill with threaths and later on with offers of power and Robbie by using music as seen in Gideon Rises and both actually using messanges-Bill wasting Ford's Post-it notes and Robbie sad emails and texts to Wendy)

-Both are good with music (Bill can play the piano and xylophone as seen in his apology video and Robbie can play the guitar and both can sing)

-Both insulted Soos or referred to him in condescending ways (Robbie called him Big Dude and Bill adressed him as "the fat one")

-Both had beef with a 12 year old and wanted to harm them (Robbie wanted to fist fight a child aka Dipper and Bill planned to commit suicide in Dipper's body, turn the mystery twins into corpses, disassamble their molecules and almost kills Mabel in the series finale)

'Both got turned to stone at one point in Weirdmageddon (Robbie when it started and Bill at the end of it)

One eyed Pentagram-Gideon Gleeful

-Having too much power that they acquired at a young age which heavily affected them and began their rise to villainy

-Both have a hatred towards Stanley Pines for meddling with their plans to obtain absolute power and ultimatetly ruining their plans which ended with them in prison.

-Both burnt a picture of the object of their affections; destroying the section with the rest of their family and leaving their faces untouched.

-Both planned to use Mabel and Dipper to get one of the original mystery twins to give them what they wanted

-Both left the Pines Twin they were interested on imprisoned during Weirdmageddon.

-Both deep down craved adoration and attention.

-Both lead a gang of criminals but dont treat them with a much respect as the one Pines Twin they are pining on while hating the other twins for thinking they turned them away from them when in reality it was their actions that did.

-Both got punched in the face by a Pines Twin in a season Finale inside someone´s head (Gideon Bot's and Stanley's)

-Both seem to care about their appearance (Gideon worrying about his hair the most and Bill about his bowtie, given the scream he lets out when Dipper blasts him and him readjusting it a couple of times during Weirdmageddon)

-Both ended up in prison after acquiring a position of absolute power where they do art therapy

-Both are snappy dressers and use their charm to trick people

Llama-Pacifica Northwest

-Both had messy childhoods that turned them into who they are now.

-Both are pretty good liars and can trick people very easily (Bill with his deals and Pacifica in the Lost Legends comic)

-Both look down on people they see as inferior to them(Bill with humans and Pacifica with the working class, hillbillies and the Pines before the events of The mystery of the Northwest mansion and Weirdmageddon)

-Both see themselves as monsters that cause havoc no matter where they go or what they do (Pacifica in dreams and Bill due to what he did in his home)

-Both were forced by their parents to act in a certain way (Bill´s at least loved him and were good intentioned)

-Both are fighters (Pacifica by defying her parents wishes, facing against the ghost and the face stealer in Lost Legends and refusing Bill's deal in her dream and Bill could stand a fight with Shacktron which he ended up defeating and in his book its implied he can fight easily against demons or ghosts)

-Both have wore a crown (Pacifica in her debut episode and Bill in his portrait in the Penthouse suite of the Fearamid)

Shooting Star-Mabel Pines

-Both are agents of Chaos (Mabel being Chaotic Good/Neutral and Bill Chaotic Evil).

-Both enjoy partying and to have fun.

-Both have a wild imagination and a sense of style.

-Both like karaoke and have had a karaoke night with one of the original mystery twins

-Both have eaten stuff normal people shouldn't eat/gross things(Bill his exoskeleton and illegal punch and Mabel getting wasted with Smile Dip, a leaf, huge amounts of sugar that would end with her sick, Mabel juice and she once got hospitalized by eating sniff and scratch stickers)

-Both like makeovers (as seen in a part of the book of Bill where he talks about hiding the blood of his past)

-Both think highly of themselves (Bill's bottomless ego vs Mabel being secure about her talents, qualities and appearance)

-Both have social skills that made others attracted to them, mostly loners or freaks (Bill with his Henchmaniacs for their shared love of chaos and Ford with his smarts and cosmical knowledge and Mabel with Candy and Greta by being weirdos and not being as popular as Pacifica and her posse)

-Both adress Ford as "Fordsy"

-Both have rolled in the grass in Gravity Falls(Bill while possesing Ford during puppet hour and Mabel in Tourist Trapped)

-Both put their wants over other people's and/or their needs (Like in Sock Opera but even if Mabel is sometimes selfish at least apologizes and learns from her mistakes while Bill doesn't care who he hurts and would never apologize)

-Both use white out to exclude certain stuff they dont like from reading material to "fix it" or crayons/markers to cross them (Mabel with the dialog in the Comix Up story in Lost Legends or certain things such as her summer romances and in the Mabel´s guide to color with the picture and Bill with a section where part of The Great Gatsby is shown on his book where he mentions assigned reading or stuff like his exes and his former friend The Oracle/Seven eyes)

-Both became gods of destruction, first time by accident and the second with full intention(Mabel by accident with the rift and ending with MabelLand and Bill with the accidental destruction of his home and with Weirdmageddon)

-You could argue they're awfull when it comes to romance (Mabel's attempts always end in failure and Bill fumbled Ford so so hard)

Pine Tree-Dipper Mason Pines

-Both are good at decoding codes and solving mysteries and have good academic skills.

-Both didn't have many friends growing up and were picked on as kids (Bill for his mutation and Dipper for his birthmark)

-The times they wanted to prove themselves to others ended badly for them (Dipper caused a zombie apocalypse and Bill destroyed his dimension by accident)

-The names they use aren't their real names (Bill confirmed in an AMA years ago that Bill Cipher is just a name he picked so humans could converse with him without going bonkers upon first contact and Dipper's name is actually Mason but everyone refers to him as Dipper due to his birthmark)

-Has cloned himself (Bill's are a natural hability for him while Dipper made copies of himself via paper-rest in piece Tyrone)

-Both were adorable as babies.

-Both got obsessed with someone to the point of messing with their personal lifes (Dipper with Wendy during her relationship with Robbie and Bill with Ford and his relationship with McGucket)

-They changed hats at different points in their life; Dipper in Tourist Trapped changes from his green hat with a five point star to the classic blue pine tree while Bill sported a multicolor hat as a kid before changing into a tophat (if we take the theory that Bill's hat was originally his father's then both Dipper's and Bill's were owned by a family member before being passed on to them, Dipper's belonging to Stan)

I know this is probably just a coincidence (save the stuff with Ford as some were meant to highlight the bond these two had and establish parallels between the two, making them doomed soulmates and adding another layer of sadness over the toxic yaoi) but a fun one still.

Thanks for reading!

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valsdelulucorner · 5 months

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Imagine the brothers were mermaids

Ok but like, imagine instead of you going down to the devildom and meeting the brothers as demons, they were mermaids in the human world.

You were in a horrendous storm that completely destroyed your ship and killed all of your crewmates. You washed up on a deserted island and soon realized there were a few heads watching you from the water. After you calm down, Lucifer introduces himself and his 5 brothers, explaining that they saw you floating in the water face up and decided to save you. He then introduced you to his younger brothers, putting mammon in charge of taking care of you when your near the beach

There was a cove on the other side of the island that you were prohibited to go into, besides the only visible access to it was underwater, even then its blocked off by a large boulder. After hearing cries and begs from the cove, you looked around the top of the cove and found a small hole in the side of the rock, seeing another mermaid inside, Belphie.

After meeting him and making the pacts with the brothers, you manage to let him out by moving the large boulder infront of the enternece by using the powers of the pacts, and you know what happened when you let belphie out💀

Things happen after that, there was alot of tears and words but everything turned out well after the incident. Lucifer gave you a spell so you could breath after that though, hes not willing to have you suffocate and die after what happened with belphie

They all started to warm up to you after a while like in the actual story, growing a attachment to the pretty/handsome human they saved on the island. They may not be able to go onto land with you but after setting belphie free, you guys were able to set up a proper home that you all can share in the cove.

The cove is quite large with shallow pools littered around the area so the brothers can comfortably lay down without drying out but still allow them to be close to you. The dry parts of the cove is where they helped you make shelter by carrying in different resources for you to make a bed and stay warm at night. they are fascinated when you manage to find another way into the cove from land, fascinated by fire once your able to bring in dry wood

Once they start to grow more fond of you, you start to find more dead fish and shiny shells near your bed, not realising they are trying to court you more obviously. You still don't know why the others give each other the evil eyes for the day after you find a really shiny shell on your make shift pillow

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Lucifer had deep red scales and a tail with a mix of red and black scales. His nails are sharp and his hands were covered in scales, running up his arms and ending at his elbow. He had red gills on his neck and in between his ribs. His fins were sharp-ish and the end of his tail was a nice pattern of red and black scales. The whites of his eyes were black while his pupils were red, slit irises. His tounge was a deep red aswell, teeth razor sharp like sharks. He took a shirt from a shipwreck and wraps it around his waist, tailoring it abit to make it actually a waist wrap and not just a shirt. Lucifer calls you his love

Mammon had vibrant yellow scales with his tail being a beautiful mix of yellow and white. His nails are less sharper then lucifer but still sharp, beautiful yellow scales littering his hands and ending at his forearm. He had dirty white gills around his neck while his gills on his chest were directly over each of his ribs. His fins are more flowy along the sides of his tail, his larger fin at the bottom of his tail being a beautiful mix of yellow, cream and white. The whites of his eyes were a bright yellow while his pupils were blue, thicker irises but still slits. His tounge is a nice shade of cream and his teeth are more like vampire teeth but with his bottom teeth having fangs aswell. He is covered in bangles and treasure, he pierced his own ears and tounge so he could use some of the jewelry. Mammon calls you his treasure

Leviathan has deep blue scales with his tail being a fade of purple blue at his hips to dark blue at the end of his tail. His nails aren't the sharpest out of the brothers but are can still be used as weapons, deep blue scales covering his hands and ending at just below his elbow. He has some scales littering his neck that complement his blue coloured gills, uneven gills along the underside of his ribs. He has a sea snake type tail, his fins being a nice, deep, translucent blue colour. The whites of his eyes are a nice light blue colour while his pupils are a orangey colour, the slits of his eyes being diamond shaped. His tounge is a purply blue colour, his tounge and teeth snake like. He found a ruri-chan bracelet after it fell off the side of a cruise ship and that bracelet has been on his wrist since, he's been on the hunt for anything else ruri-chan after that. Levi calls you his charm {ruri-chan ref}

Satan has some vibrant green scales with his tail being a mix of green and sea green scales. His nails are the sharpest of all the brothers while his hands are covered in green scales, running up his arm and ending at his bicep. He has deep green gills resting near the back of his neck, his gills being more near his back but still on his ribs. His fins are the sharpest out of his brothers and are a beatiful green colour, the fins at the bottom of his tail a mix of sea green and green. The whites of his eyes are a dark green while his pupil is a nice green, the irises of his eyes are spikey but still vaguely resemble slits. His tounge is spikey and deep green, his teeth alot sharper then Lucifer's, his teeth are made for shredding. He wears some silver jewelry on the tip of his fins to be able to lure fish in for dinner, he wears it more as a hunting tactic then a fashion statement. Satan calls you his darling

Asmo has the most gorgeous pink scales with his tail being a mix of cherry pink and raspberry pink. His nails are the dullest of the brothers but they are still lethal, his hands are littered with pretty pink scales that end at his wrists. His gills are a bright pink colour that are closer to the front of his jaw, the gills on his chest resting right under his ribs. His fins are very flowy and are such a beautiful shade of pink, the fins at the end of his tale is a beautiful cherry pink fading into a deep raspberry pink. The whites of his eyes are a shade of apricot pink while his pupils are a nice orangy pink colour, his irises in the shape of hearts. His tounge is a raspberry pink and his teeth are really dull. He is like mammon with the fact that he loves to wear beautiful jewelry he finds on shipwrecks, they make his beauty stand out. Asmo calls you precious

Beel has some vibrant orange scales with his tail being a mix of sunset orange and mandarin orange. His nails are quite sharp but are quite short, beautiful mandarin scales covering his hands and end at his shoulders. His gills are a nice orange that are right above his collar bone, his other gills resting right under his pectorals, on his ribs. His fins are abit rough but are a nice sunset orange colour, his fins at the end of his tail a mix of mandarin and sunset orange. The whites of his eyes are a deep orange colour and his pupils are a beautiful purple, his irises in the shape of little suns. His tounge is a deep orange colour while his teeth are lion like, his teeth are MADE for eating meat. He got a piece of rope he found off of a shipwreck and made a necklace for himself, having made a tail bangle for belphie so they match. Beel calls you his guppy

Belphie has some beautiful purple scales with his tail being a mix of Lavander purple and deep purple. His nails are second to asmos in being dull but can still cause alot of damage, soft purple scales littering his hands which end at his shoulders. His lavender gills are also placed right above his collar bone, his gills placed right under his pectorals aswell, matching beel. His fins are nice and flowy, the fins at the end of his tail a lovely mix of lavender and deep purple. The whites of his eyes are a deep purple which match well with his purple pupils, his irises shaped like little moons. His tounge is a mix of deep purple with the tip being lavander, his teeth being quite sharp but quite unnoticeable at first glance. He loves the little thing beel made for his tail, he never takes it off. Belphie calls you squishy

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woo, its mermay! Im sorry if their designs aren't described well or fit your own head cannon but i will try and make some visual designs for them! I will probably come back and edit this so it can make more scene

The top part is so ass but im planning on doing actuall head cannons for mermay, so please dont loose hope on me just yet

What should I do next?

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slashify · 2 years

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We all love tattoo artist Eddie, but consider tattoo artist Steve.

He has an American Robin perched on a trumpet on his bicep for Robin. He gave her a brightly colored ice cream cone on her shoulder in different shades of pink. She rambled about cultural tattoos and the history of tattoos in America when she wasn’t bitching at him (‘Ow! For the love of all that is holy, Dingus!’ ‘Do you need a break?’) the whole time he was doing it.

He finds one of the kids (Max) attempting a stick n poke and gathers them all around for a lecture on safety and cleanliness. He promises the kids he’ll tattoo them for free when they’re old enough.

He and Will have art sessions where they’ll pick a subject and draw it traditionally and then Steve gives him pointers on how he would make the design better for tattooing. Will ends up apprenticing with Steve when he turns 18.

Steve still wears blue jeans and polos. His work is good enough that his customers don’t give a shit how he dresses.

He’s compassionate about coverups. He knows what it’s like to have changed so much that who you once were doesn’t fit anymore.

He’s very versatile, switching between outlines, black and grey shading, subtle highlights, and bold coloring with ease. He can do cartoon work as well as he can do realistic plants, or big cats, or lettering (he checks the spelling five or more times. He’s never messed up, but it’s one of his biggest fears). He has a whole list of referrals from people who like how he does scales. He’s lost count of how many fish, dragons, and snakes he’s done. He’s comfortable with a lot of styles, but he doesn’t do portraits. When Will starts at the shop he excels at portraits. Steve’s happy he’s found his niche.

Steve’s at a tattoo expo to network and check out new techniques when he finds himself stopping to watch an artist doing a tattoo of a demon. The artist has long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a grin like sunshine, and manages to make something grotesque and beautiful at the same time. Steve checks out the guy’s portfolio and sees a lot of fantasy stuff, dragons and wizards and a familiar looking set of dice, and he knows he has to go grab Will from the food court.

#steveddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tattoo artist Steve Harrington #I am not a tattoo artist #it’s a subject I’m interested in #but I am by no means an expert #please excuse any terminology or logistics that don’t make sense #I wanted to have Eddie doing biomechanical tattoos #and I feel like Steve would have a glow in the dark one but would hate anyone else getting one bc potential ink allergy #but I wanted to keep the time period ambiguous and I have no idea when some of these styles and techniques came to be #although I also doubt they had tattoo expos back then

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multific · 1 year

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Love As Deep As the Ocean

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Mermaid!Reader

Warnings: Simon's past, mention of blood, murder, abuse

Inspired by @halcyone-of-the-sea's work.

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Being one of the retired Knights of 141, Simon's only request was a small cottage close to the Ocean, when the King granted his wish, Simon hoped he could finally have the quiet life he longed for. But fate had other ideas.

Merfolk are incredibly curious and beautiful creatures.

Simon can recall hearing the stories about them when he was growing up.

Men warned each other about the creatures that lured men to danger and then killed them.

Simon heard stories as a young man that men hunted these creatures down. It was said that their scales are worth more than gold.

But then, as if they never existed, they disappeared.

Everyone assumed they killed them all, that every merfolk was gone.

Extinct.

Simon never believed in fairy tales.

He believed his eyes, not drawings or tales about creatures.

He believed what he saw.

And he never saw a mermaid in his life.

---

You thought he was a demon.

Always dressed in dark, covering his face.

You watched him as he walked along the beach every day. You saw him watching the sunset.

He was a strange man.

But again, all humans were strange to you.

Yet, somehow, this man captured your attention.

Every afternoon, he would come, walk along the beach to the rocks and sit there for hours, watching the sunset before leaving.

You heard that many humans enjoyed the sound of the water hitting the rocks.

You stayed far from him.

Always hidden, but you were also curious.

Then, one day, he arrived with a boat. A small fishing boat, you have seen many of.

He wasn't fishing, he was watching the water and the sky.

One day, you felt brave, you heard him snoring, which you knew meant he was sleeping on his ship.

You gripped the edge of the ship and pulled yourself up, Just below your belly button, your scales shined in the sun.

The man was lying on a chair, facing away from you.

You moved as quietly as you could, looking around his ship, you noticed something shiny not too far from you.

You reached over and touched the item before quietly falling back into the water with your newest item in hand. You quickly swam back to your underwater cave and looked at the item.

You have never seen such a thing before.

It was so shiny and weird.

You thought you had seen people with this item before, if you were correct they used it for eating.

A spoon?

Perhaps.

What a weird name for something.

The next day you found the man on his boat again, with the object in hand you swam up the surface and placed it back where you found it previously, or you tried to. It was difficult with him walking around the ship.

But you did give it back. And your mother taught you to not take things which don't belong to you.

Simon swore he had the spoon on top of the box, he swore he left it there before he fell asleep. And then, somehow, the same spoon appeared the next day on the other side of the ship in his basket.

He was going mad.

He bought this boat as a way to relax.

When he left the King's army, he knew he needed to take a step back and possibly stay away from people. So, he got a house with a small farm by the Ocean. The King gave him a piece of land of his choice, Simon found himself to be interested in the Ocean since he was young.

He often found himself wandering the sand as a child. Given how terrible his father had been with him, constantly abusing him, the Ocean calmed him.

Then he purchased the boat, giving him access to the deep blue.

He thought he could live his life like this. Quietly, in a nice secluded area.

But he kept noticing his things disappeared and then showed up on different parts of the ship.

One time he specifically tested it. He left a pair of glasses on his chair, the next time he saw them they were on the edge of his ship.

He suspected the birds, but the fact that his things got back to him was strange.

A week later, Simon was fishing from his boat near the rocks, it was a lovely sunny way.

He heard some water splashes. A weird sound, not the water against the rocks or his ship. It sounded as if someone jumped or dropped something into the water.

He recalled hearing this sound before, but now he was curious.

He quietly leaned back in his chair, looking at the back of his ship, he saw no one.

But then, the noise came again and it sounded closer. And this time, when Simon looked, he saw a young woman, leaning from the edge of the ship and reaching into his box, the box where he stores his tools.

He swore he stopped breathing and the woman looked at him, they locked eyes and she froze.

With her head stretched out, she just kept looking at him.

He caught her!

She was the one stealing from him all along!

But... how?

Then, Simon's eyes moved down her side and he saw the scales, and then he noticed the shine of her tail.

As if she sensed his thoughts, she moved quickly back into the water. Simon jumped up and rushed to where she disappeared, but he saw no one.

He swore she was only a fraction of his imagination. She had to be.

Simon never felt so confused in his life.

All those stories... were they true? Could they be true?

He looked at his toolbox and found nothing missing, then his eyes caught something shimmering on his boat.

A scale.

A beautiful, shiny scale.

He knew what it was worth. He knew what the King would give if he brought her to him. The King would give him his title back, he would be a noble knight.

Simon tried his best to remember her face. Hoping he would see her again.

He needed to be sure that he wasn't going crazy. The scale should have been enough, but no. He wanted to see her eyes again.

He put the scale into his pocket before heading home.

He couldn't sleep.

But neither could you.

This was the first time you saw his face.

It had been many many many years since a human saw you.

He was handsome, you concluded. But the fear in your heart didn't let you sleep.

You worried he would call people or hunt you down alone. You got too close and now, you feared the consequences.

You found yourself looking up at the surface of the water a lot.

But the next day, he didn't show.

Which really worried you.

But then, the next day, there it was.

The boat.

You debated swimming up or not.

It could be a trap.

You ended up going, very quietly you surfaced and looked at the side of the boat, you heard him wandering about, this is when you noticed an item on the very edge of the ship, the same one you tried to reach out for days before.

You looked around but saw no ships, no one was on the beach and he was alone on his ship judging by the footsteps.

You moved your hand and grabbed the object, swimming away, but staying on the surface.

As you swam back he came into view, he was looking at something in his box, now, he had his mask covering the lower part of his face, much like before.

He didn't seem to notice you for a moment but then he did.

You just watched him as he looked at your face.

"I'll need that for eating, lass." he said, his voice deep. He moved to the edge and you moved backwards. Keeping your eye on every movement, he reached out. "I need the fork."

You looked at the object in your hand then back up at him.

"Yes, that, now, give it to me, please?" you reached out your hand with the item and he took it. He moved back and grabbed his food, sitting down with his back to you, he started to eat.

What an interesting human he was.

You swam under his boat and grabbed the edge, coming up and looking at him, he stopped for a second.

"Can I have it once you are done?" you asked and you saw the shock in his eyes.

He didn't expect for you to speak.

"Why do you want it?"

"It's shiny. I will give it back later."

"And what if you drop it? It will go under the water and- oh, yeah, you could get it... Once I'm done, I'll wash it."

But then, you saw something better.

Around his neck. The shiniest silver you have ever seen. Simon followed your eyes and he soon realized.

"No, I'm not giving you that."

"It's a necklace. I like it."

"It's mine." you made a face of disappointment before going under. A couple minutes later you came back. He was now washing his dishes. You placed a beautiful shell on his deck.

"Trade me." you said and Simon almost laughed.

"No. It's not for sale." he said as he walked over, offering you the fork.

You thought about snatching the necklace but you rather not anger him, so you took the fork.

"Two shells?"

"No." Simon sat down and watched you admire his fork. "Are you not afraid of me?" he asked.

"Will you hurt me?" you asked and he shook his head, no. "I'm scared. But I feel like I could trust you."

"I thought mermaids were only a tale."

"Why?"

"No one has seen a mermaid before. Only the old stories lived."

"We hide, humans hunt us. They sent men like you, big, scary. The water was always red with blood. Every wave screamed with fear. Times changed, I might be the last one. I like you." you tilted your head before you handed him back the fork.

You turned to go back into the water when he spoke up.

"Will I see you again?" you looked at him and nodded.

Then, you left.

Simon looked at the shell on the deck of his ship before he looked at the water.

"Fuckin' hell." he said before he too, went home.

---

The next day, Simon found himself on his ship close to the rocks earlier than usual.

He wanted to see you.

And he didn't have to wait for long.

You showed up and sat on the edge of his ship, he nearly fell back when he saw you.

You talked a lot. He learned the fishes and sea creatures weren't much of listeners so you enjoyed talking to him very much.

This went on for weeks now.

Simon sailed out and sometimes, you were already waiting for him.

"There will be a big storm tomorrow. You should stay in your home." you said as he sat down on the edge beside you.

"How do you know, the fish told you?" he was joking but you had a serious expression, it was no joke.

"Not with words though. They swim differently when there is a change, which means a big storm."

"Will you be fine?"

"Of course. My cave is safe." he nodded.

"I won't see you tomorrow then."

"The day after, you will." you smiled before jumping into the water. "Stay safe," you said before swimming down.

Simon found himself watching the water after you left for longer each time.

---

The next day, it was indeed a huge storm with a strong wind.

Simon could hear the waves from his home.

He just hoped that you were safe.

Storms underwater are very different.

You felt the change in the weather, you felt the waves.

You worried for Simon.

You don't know what got into you, swimming out in such a storm was a terrible idea.

But your gut told you to go.

As you came to the surface even you struggled with the waves, thankfully there was no sign of him.

You wanted to head back to your cave when another wave pushed you and soon, you were too close to the beach. A huge wave pushed you against a rock which knocked you out.

You woke up on the sand with a terrible headache.

You sat up and looked around, you needed to head back to the water, you spent too much time out of it, your tail disappeared and now you had legs.

Legs you couldn't use and you were completely nude.

Instead of panicking, you took a deep breath.

You always knew that you could have legs, you could have learned and lived amongst the humans, you just chose not to.

You looked behind you and saw Simon's house.

With extremely wobbly feet, you walked over. But as soon as you stood up, you felt a pain in your ankle. You let out a groan as you continued, leaning against anything that came your way for support.

You stopped by the door and tried to open it but failed.

"I told you I'm not buying anything from you!" his voice came from inside and you wanted to laugh.

He thought you were someone else, the annoying man who came by every month, trying to sell him things.

"Too bad, I have great shells to sell." you replied as you tried the handle again. The door suddenly opened and you nearly fell inside. Thankfully you were leaning against the doorframe. "I think I broke my ankle."

Simon's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Since when do you have ankles?!" he asked as he scooped you up and walked you inside his house.

He put you on his couch before leaving for his bedroom, he grabbed some clothes and helped you put them on.

"You have a nice home."

"Since when do you have legs?"

"I always did, once I completely dry, I-"

"Why did you let yourself dry?"

"I didn't. Last night I got worried that something happened to you, so I swam up but the waves were too strong. I got washed out of the water and knocked out."

"You could have died."

"Why? I can't drown."

"What if someone saw you?"

"No one lives here but you. The man you complain about lives in the village near the mountain, he comes to the beach to collect shells." he finally looked into your eyes and you lifted your hand and placed your palm against his cheek.

"I will take you back to the Ocean. It is where you belong." he said as he stood up and walked into his kitchen.

"I belong with you." you said once he returned.

"You don't want to. I'm a terrible man."

"It can't be that bad."

"I killed people, for the King. I was one of his knights."

"Okay, so?"

"You are perfect. Your hair, your skin, your eyes, your shape, your tail... everything about you is perfection. You are so pure, I don't deserve something so pure."

"You told me you have felt a pull towards the Ocean ever since you were a child."

"So, you will tell me that I was drawn to it because of you? I was drawn because I had an abusive father who drank and beat me, not because of a fairy tale." he moved closer to you, it made you grab the silver around his neck. He could see the anger in your eyes as you stood up.

"What happened to you is terrible yes, however fairy tales keep people hoping, keep people going, believing. You rather see the dark in the world and people but what did you see in me? What made you come into the sea, day after day? What made you buy a house here? I was ready to give up the Ocean, give up my tail so I can be with you, but it looks like I misjudged you." you snapped the dog tags off of his neck. He was too stunned to speak or to move. "I love you. And I know you know that I love you. You can keep running away, calling yourself a monster, stuck in your past, crying over it." you walked out of his house, it took a moment for Simon to follow you, by the time he rushed after you, you were gone, he only saw the ripple in the water.

He reached up and touched his neck where you took the silver from.

You took a piece of him with you.

---

You cried your heart out.

You weren't even sure anymore why you took the necklace.

Simon Riley Knight Lieutenant 141

You looked at the engraved letters for hours. The pain in your chest never subdued.

A couple of days later, you heard his ship, the unmistakable noise of the metal and wood was loud and clear. You swam up.

"Are you here? Can you hear me? How does one reach a mermaid?!" he grew frustrated within the minute. "If you can hear me, I'm sorry. I truly think you are too pure for me. Every night, when I fell asleep I saw the blood, the bodies and the horrible things I had done. But not lately. Lately, ever since I met you, I dreamt of you. Your beauty and your scales, your smile and your excitement when I talked with you. I love you too. It's just... I'm afraid I will ruin you, I'm afraid that I will make you miserable. I cannot let myself ruin such an amazing thing like you." you heard him drop to the floor, you moved and pulled yourself up against the side, you found him sitting across from you, looking at the floor, you threw the necklace at him, it landed in front of him and he quickly looked up and looked at you.

"You have bad excuses. I forgot I have a tendency to lure men with my song and then drown them for fun. I'm not as pure as you say. I stole things from people, I sleep in a cave filled with gold and things I took. I stole men's hearts, making them fall in love and follow me into the dark depths of the water. I didn't know humans found their pasts so... important."

"You are right. I shouldn't find it so important. But I'm afraid I will end up like him." he said as he picked up the silver and ran his thumb along the letters.

"How many people did you help? When you were a knight, how many did you help?"

"I don't know."

"A few? A lot?"

"Probably a lot."

"Then why not think of them instead of the bad?" you had a point and he knew it.

After a minute of silence, you pulled yourself up and onto his deck, you crawled over to him, he pulled you into his chest, hooking his arm under your tail, he held you close as his head moved to your neck.

He took a deep breath.

"Can I still have you?" he asked and you ran your hand from his chest to his neck.

"I think you always had me. Even before we met. You might not, but I sure believe in fate." he squeezed you tighter as you moved your nose into his hair and smelled it.

"I cannot give you a bed of gold, but I can offer you my humble little cottage. I wouldn't force you to live like a human, stay a mermaid, please." he pulled back and you looked into his eyes.

"Then how would we make love?" his eyes widdened as you smiled and kissed his lips.

It felt so right.

So right to be with him, so right to kiss him and become his.

And you knew, that this was only the beginning of your life with your retired Knight.

A/N: Hi All! I really hope you enjoyed this piece. I left the ending open for potential continuation, let me know if you have any ideas. Please also check out @halcyone-of-the-sea's amazing piece with John Price! I did talk with her and she approved of me writing this piece.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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leonw4nter · 8 months

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Give Me A Star In The Sky and Promise To Be By My Side

Knight!RE4R!Leon x Mermaid!F!Reader

fluff, medieval setting, no use of super flowery words, mentions of death/dying (once or thrice i think)

SUMMARY : Leon's a knight in shining armor but he begs to differ because he swears God sent him an angel with a voice that outshines all that comes along with an even shinier mermaid tail.

Fighting. Killing. Coming back alive when men you considered your brothers are dead. This is all something Leon is used to ever since the royal family has taken him in as their knight; no compensation, no amount of pay could ever repair the damage that fighting mutant horrors beyond human comprehension has done to him. He has lost it all– friends, family, and the will to live. He has considered ending this torment with a rope around his neck but he never could bring himself to do so; someone has to do the job because if he doesn’t, then who will? He takes a swig of the strongest whiskey he can get his bloodied hands on, hoping to drown his sorrows and dissolve the faint image of his comrade’s mangled body that lingered in his mind like a taunt that he will never rebuild his life again and one day, he too will die like this and there will be no loved one to grieve his death; no one to lay flowers on his grave, no grave to be paying respects to but as if there was ever anyone in his life to visit him in the first place. He did not think that he would be deserving of praise or recognition; no matter how many times he scrubs his hands clean, there would always be blood on them. He zones out, dead blue eyes focused on nothing in particular as the voices that taunt him grow louder and sound as if they’re doubling in number. The grip on his glass falters, fingers trembling as tears flood the waterline of his eyes. Forcing himself to get a grip, he refills the glass and takes another long swig as he lets the drink burn his throat.

God must certainly exist because it’s as if He saw Leon struggling to keep the voices at bay and decided to send down an angel to sing solely to overpower the demons with her powerful voice; Leon thinks that maybe God still has some compassion to spare for a rabid stray like him. Leon keeps his head down, trying to keep himself grounded as a euphonious voice begins to sway his soul and move him gently. He finally looks up and sees a singer on stage, clad in a beautiful red dress; the color red never fails to make Leon feel a twinge of betrayal and hurt but this red is a shade he will always associate with silencing the raging screams in his troubled mind.

The peace is interrupted when a group of drunken men stumble to the front of the stage, filthy hands reaching out to touch her legs. Her voice weakens and trembles slightly, eyes widened and darting to and fro from the audience and towards the men. Leon decides that this is enough and gets up from his seat, walking over to the front of the stage and grips the wrist of one man tightly but the man does not give up easily; punches thrown, glass shattered, and noses bloody, guests pour out of the club, leaving you and him alone. He tells you his name and you offer yours, both of you knowing full well this is not the last time you two will see each other again. With a small nod, he turns around and heads out the door to retire back to his quarters. Swiftly, you grab a cloak and run outside to follow him. He hasn’t wandered too far off from the club so manage to catch up to him, placing a hand on his back. As a small token of your thanks, you give him a mermaid scale. Drawing him a little nearer, you place the iridescent golden scale on the pocket of his gambeson and give it a safe little pat before pulling away.

“What was that for?” he asks, gaze falling to his pocket.

“It’s a thank-you from me. I feel the need to repay you for defending me so I decided to give you my scale.” you respond, a small smile on your lips.

“A fish scale?”

“Mermaid scale.”

“I’ve seen large, rare fish sold to merchants with scales like these but thank you, I guess. I just did what’s right.”

All the singer does is laugh and look up at him with sparkly eyes.

Leon tries not to hide the bewildered look in his face. Mermaids are not real, they’re simply manatees that explorers have misidentified but she seemed a little too kind and eager to express her thankfulness so he takes it, not saying another word. It wouldn’t hurt to keep around a rare fish’s scale so he decides against giving it back or throwing it away on his way to his quarters.

“I’ll see you around, Leon.” you respond before giving him a small bow and heading back in. He looks back at you once but you look back three times, incredibly grateful for such a man to have stepped in and done something about the harassment.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Even after a few days of the charming singer giving him the scale, he still keeps it around and carries it with him everywhere. He doesn’t know why he does so but he just does, perhaps out of respect for the singer; maybe it’s in her culture to give a kind stranger something like that and he’s just respecting whatever customs she may have. Sometimes, he pulls the scale out and holds it up to the sun or whatever source of light there is to admire the scale. The scale is a lot thicker and bigger than the usual fish scale so he figures that it must have come from a bigger kind unknown to the region. He has also decided to frequent that club more, staying around not for alcohol alone but also the music; the club had two or three singers but out of all, he most preferred to hear you sing. You always looked radiant, making the room seem brighter than it is but whenever you spot him in the sea of spectators, he swears you seem to look a lot brighter. You two don’t talk, him being a man of few words and you being an introverted person but occasionally exchange glances that said enough. It is easy to admit that the man is attractive but she didn’t feel anything more than just the mere urge to offer the man some company and same goes with him yet there were times where he felt his heart thrum whenever he recalled the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you smiled, how your eyes squint first before a bright grin graces your red lips; the way your glossy hair would softly sway along to the song as if there were waves causing your hair to dance along to the melody. He found himself subconsciously looking around for any threat looming around to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you have effortlessly created and to keep you safe, of course. He also began to cut back on the whiskey he always got, making sure he only limited himself to a number of glasses in order to stay sober so he could rush in and protect you fast if the situation arose.

This night, being in the club would stay in his imagination as he is sent to roam the forests for threats of those crazy cultists running around and planting parasite eggs around; news of livestock and villages from more rural portions of the kingdom reached the town, causing the king to raise alert levels within the kingdom’s line of defenses. The evening sky is dark, littered with shimmery dots of white and silver moonlight that beamed through tall and dark trees. The gale is cold, a refreshing contrast to the hot afternoon; the wind gently blows, as if caressing Leon’s body like he’s made of thin glass and gently ruffling his slightly unkempt blond hair. He’s not wearing his usual bulk of armor tonight, opting for white long sleeves and a black leather doublet over it; a belt to contain his sword and daggers hang on his waist, causing a faint clanking noise with each stride. Despite being tall and muscular, his footfalls were trained to be as light and noiseless as possible to keep him undetected when he was on duty. However, light footfalls are nothing when you fail to keep yourself guarded and fall prey to who you are supposed to be preying on. An assassin sneaks up from behind him and renders him immobile, a handkerchief damp with a sedative substance clamped over his mouth which causes him to lose his consciousness. The assassin holds his heavy body, pulling it to some place else to effectively keep him immobile. Blade belt removed, hands and ankles tied, a black cloth covering his eyes, the assassin lugs him to a cart used for the transport of the dead and takes on, disguising themselves as someone assigned to pick up bodies and send them to a burial ground in order to properly execute their mission.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Leon! Leon!,” Chris calls out. The man walks and looks around, his booming voice reverberating through the woods.

“Where in the hell is he,” he mumbles softly. Leon is someone who always knows the way and would always come back; he could be set to drift out at sea with a blindfold to his eyes and his arms constricted but he would always get back, no matter what.

“No sign of Leon anywhere,” Luis responds. Luis, one of the palace’s scholars, had been called over by Chris to ask him about Leon’s whereabouts. When Leon was not hanging around the barracks, he could be seen in Luis’ laboratory flipping through books or observing Luis’ notes.

“Ran off with a certain lady friend of his, perhaps?” he jokes, a failed attempt at making the situation lighter. Chris’ forehead creases with worry, fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he left it at his chambers. “So much for trying to quit.” he thinks to himself. They continue discussing where Leon could be, occasionally calling out his name every now and then, wading deeper into the forest. Suddenly, they hear a child’s helpless screaming. The screaming sounded a little more reverb, as if he was trapped somewhere.

“You hear that?” Luis asks, to which Chris nods.

“We’ll help you kid! Hold on!,” Luis exclaims as he and the other brunette set off to find the source of the noise.

“Help us! We’re in a well!” the kid exclaims. Luis raises an eyebrow at Chris; We? What did he mean by “we”? Could it be that Leon is with the kid too?

The pair rushes to the source of the sound, the child’s voice growing clearer and clearer with each speedy stride. Finally, a well comes into their view and they sprint towards the well. They peer down and see Leon, finally conscious but his head is tipped up for if not, he would sink below the water and drown. On his shoulder is the child, legs untied but hands bound together. His clothes are wet, cheeks deeply flushed from all the crying he’s done. The way they are positioned looks odd; the kid, despite being much much smaller than Leon, is standing with the water up until his ankles whilst Leon looks like he’s struggling to keep his head up and it occurs to them that he’s letting the kid stand on his shoulders to call out for help despite his weakened state.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you chico!” Luis exclaims before scrambling off to find a rope, a vine– whatever they can use to get the kid and Leon out. Luckily, a portion of the rope was stuck on a stone that jutted out from the inside of the well and if Chris took a stick and brought a portion of the rope up, he could get them both out. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a stick sturdy enough to support the weight of a child but Luis piped up with an idea.

“Chico, can you jump for me?” Luis calls out. He smiles half-heartedly, trying to stir up some feelings of confidence in the kid.

“I’m going to need you to jump as high as you can and grab on to that stone,” he adds with a slender finger pointing to the stone that juts out.

“Think you can do that for me?”

The kid hesitates for a moment, looking down at Leon and back up. His bottom lip quivers and a look of fear flashes in his bright green eyes before shaking his head and breaking out into a new set of tears. A grunt could be heard coming from Leon, all his energy going into keeping his body up for the kid; he hasn’t even broken out of the ropes, more focused on getting the child out before himself.

Luis mutters something in Spanish and Chris considers shedding his armor to climb down and somehow try to get the kid and Leon himself, even if the odds are stacked up against everyone. Without warning, a yelp from the kid could be heard as he took a leap without warning, one tiny tied hand holding onto the rock.

“Help me!” the kid cried in a shaky voice and nasal tone. Chris bent down as deep as he could, his hand stretched and trying to get the kid’s wrist and lift him up.

“This might hurt a little but it’ll be fast, I promise!” he says before finally getting the kid’s wrist. Luis holds on to his waist to keep him from dipping into the well too much. With a few grunts, Chris finally manages to lift the kid out. Luis sheds his coats, wrapping it around the shivering kid as he tells the child to sit beside the well and try to stay warm. Leon, however, stays trapped and has gone beneath the water due to the downward thrust when the kid lept. The two men above the water consider shedding whatever clothing and dividing down, spotting a golden glow beneath the water. Golden? But the moon appears silver this evening; the faint light appears as if it’s beneath the waters. Interesting.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

She is backstage, gently patting powder into her face as she gets ready for tonight’s performance. She has her best pink dress on, silk embroidery casting a peachy sheen whenever golden candle-light struck the threads; long locks of her hair is kept away from her delicate face using starfish hair clips, strands defining the plumpness of cheeks the shade of tropical corals and framing her soft jaw. She spreads her lips into a wide smile, trying to get more of the product into her cheeks when she feels a sharp pain in the left side of her chest. She hastily returns the powder puff into the pot, a dainty hand flying to her chest and clutching it as she tries to catch her breath. The pain persists for a few more seconds until she realizes that someone may be in dire trouble. Hurriedly, she grabs her coat and runs out of the club. The ache in her chest could only mean one thing: a recipient of her scale needs her help right away, that recipient being Leon. Leon is the only person she’s ever offered her scale to, that tiny iridescent thing connecting the both of them in a way she didn’t quite expect. She has heard of what offering a scale could entail but she didn’t expect it to be like a map; she doesn’t know where he is but a connection to an item of hers just leads her there. She speeds through the thickness of the forest, legs pumping fast to get her to him as fast as possible. Not too long after, she spots a well and she feels the ache grow stronger. A hand flies up to unclasp her coat, hurriedly moving over to the clips in her hair to let it drop down to the floor. She spots two men and a child right by the well, the men shedding their shirts and vests. One of the men, the tanned and lean one between the pair, reaches out to her but she doesn’t pay them any mind. Stretching her arms in front of her and keeping them together, a shimmery flash of pink plunges into the well and hits the water with a loud splash. Immediately, her eyes adjust to the darkness and her legs shift into an opalescent gold tail. With a strong kick, she sets off to find Leon whose eyes are closed. She spots a muted gold glow in his chest pocket, her scale and sees his hands below his back. Hastily, she swims up to him and takes his arms; a broken piece of rope is attached to wrist and the same goes for his ankles. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she swims them both to the surface of the water but his eyes are still closed. Offering him some of her strength, she unwraps her arms from his wrist and places her tender hands on his face, she lets her lids drape over her eyes and brings her face near his. Tilting her head, her soft lips meet his lightly chapped ones; a surging tide of warmth and some miraculous strength courses through Leon’s formerly limp body, eyes slowly flying open only to be met by a blur of dark blue and a stinging sensation which causes him to shut them again. He could not see but he is certain that it’s her; an odd yet not uninvited swimming giddiness overrides his ability to reason logically and before he knows it, he finds himself pressing his lips back only for her to finally pull back and reach the surface of the well. Leon had always been the savior, the knight in the armor dirtied from war and he does not mind it– not at all but it is at that moment of nearly stepping into night’s Plutonian shore does he realize that maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t hurt to have someone save him for a change. As a man who has seen the face of war and smelt the stench of death, he has learned to raise strong walls to protect his heart from abandonment but through this moment, he comes to the realization that you’re slowly taking those walls apart but he doesn’t resent it– not one bit.

He wakes with a painful cough, sitting up and spitting out all the water from his lungs. With each jerk of his body, tears spring in his eyes from the sheer pressure he’s exerting just to get everything out. He feels a satiny touch fall on his back and he turns around; the singer from the club he frequents holds him in her lap and strokes his back from all those forceful coughing fits.

“You alright?” she asks in the most silvery voice he’s ever had the high grace of hearing.

“Yeah,” he responds with a hoarse voice. His throat feels weird and scratchy, a hand coming up to feel for his Adam's apple. He looks back at her and notices that they’re both drenched, her shimmery sleeveless dress clinging to her body and her long hair still dripping with water. His gaze falls on her cheekbones and drifts down to her arms and spots subtle opaline scales, similar to the ones on her legs. Her hands and feet look a lot more webbed, eyes appearing a little more bright than the average person’s.

“Thanks. For what you did. I mean it,” he softly says.

She smiles, still patting his back.

“It’s nothing. It’s sort of like me returning the favor for when you defended me back in the club.”

She coaxes him closer to her and he lets himself rest against her body, the weariness of the ordeal setting deep in his bones.

“How’d you find me?” he asks.

“The scale. My chest hurt while I was getting ready and I figured that you’d be in some form of trouble. I had this weird intuition on where you are and I ended up saving you.” she responds.

“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” Luis chimes in, which causes the both of you to look avert each other’s gazes and attempt to conceal the deepening glow of pink in your cheeks. Chris finally finishes putting his garments back on, a smile on his lips. Urging Luis and the child up, they go to move somewhere else but not too distant from the both of you. Leon lifts his right hand up, gesturing it to you and shows you a gold radiance wrapped around his ring finger like a thread. You tilt your head, bringing his hand closer to you until you notice that the luminescent thread connects to your own ring finger, which also resembles thread.

“Am I going to be a mermaid too?” Leon speaks up.

“N-no… I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing something like this.” you quietly say. The threads disappear, fading into shimmery moonlight that lingered on you two for a swift moment.

“You’re a mermaid.” Leon mumbles faintly.

“Yeah, I am.” you say.

“That explains the voice.”

“And not the scale, which you thought belongs to some kind of rare fish?”

“You aren’t entirely fish but you’re quite the catch if I do say so myself.”

“Oh?”

You turn your head to a side not facing Leon, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in a moment of pure glee as waves of excitement crash over your body, a coral tint adding more color to your face.

“Let’s get back. It’s getting colder.” you finally say as you try to fight back a smile.

“Sounds like a plan.” he says as he flashes that swoon-worthy grin.

NOTE - THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH EXAMS OH MY LORD. Fun fact: I started this fic when I was supposed to be studying for one of my tests and I finished this when I'm currently supposed to be practicing for a music class requirement :3 Making the fic look a lot more cuter took more time than I initially thought but I don't mind tbh. I'll be inactive from January 25 to 26th because I'll be on a day-long school trip. Hopefully I'm passing all my tests because I will be CREMATED if I don't. Also ordered my Leon photocards and they haven't arrived yet (baby come home) That's all and I'm really thankful that you've read my fics and enjoyed them :) I love you <///3

The animated pink divider and chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil x reader #biohazard #resident evil 4 remake #re4make #re4 remake #re4r

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humanpurposes · 14 days

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Karma is a God, Chapter 17: Blood is Unambiguous

The Dance of the Dragons begins on a lie, and Aemond owes a debt, one Lucerra will see repaid in Fire and Blood.

Aemond x Lucerra Velaryon (fem!Lucerys)

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Warnings for this chapter: 18+, spoilers for F&B and future seasons of HotD, canon divergence, descriptions of violence, angst, mentions of death and war

A/n: Realised I copy pasted the whole chapter rather than a snippet, and because I am that lazy, have the whole chapter.

Full chapter is on AO3

A white raven arrives from the Citadel at Oldtown; winter has begun. Luke has felt the shift of the season, the cold mornings in the training yard when she watches Joffrey swing a wooden sword under the guidance of Ser Lorent, the gloomy grey skies and piercing winds. Sometimes she can convince herself she is back at Dragonstone. Blackwater Bay roars as it tosses fishing boats and the ships of the Velaryon fleet on its surface, as it sends waves crashing against the cliff faces along the shore below the Red Keep.

In the early mornings, before she is due to rise for meetings of the Small Council, Luke watches through the eyes of her dragon as he dives for fish and eels. She feels that he is content with the familiarity of the mist and the harsher weather, and she knows that this is not merely a dream.

She’s found books in the library detailing legends from ages long gone by, of the First Men and the Age of Heroes, warring Kings, whispers of demons from the North, the children of the forest, skinchangers, greenseers, men who could see through the eyes of birds, rodents and wolves. She knows these tales from childhood; Harwin Strong knew all sorts of stories and saw lots of strange things growing up at Harrenhal, trees with faces and bleeding eyes, ghosts and living, breathing memories.

She feels the spray of the sea against her scales, the taste of fresh fish on her tongue, her wings steady through the wind as the Red Keep comes back into view…

In her moments of curiosity she hears the delicate voice of Alys Rivers in the back of her head. “Blood is unambiguous.”

When she sits before her mirror and watches her handmaiden twist her dark curls into braids, she tries to imagine herself with her mother’s silver hair, with Ser Leanor’s warm brown eyes and his sailor’s hands. When she looks at herself she sees Jace and Joffrey. She sees the man they were told not to mourn when he perished in his father’s castle. Blood of the dragon, blood of the Riverlands. A bastard in the eyes of some, a Princess in the eyes of others, now heir to the Iron Throne.

Jace had always said their parentage was of no consequence, but he had sounded unsure in that himself. Simply as a consequence of age he knew Harwin Strong better than she did and had clearer memories of him. He knew of the rumours whispered amongst the courtiers when they resided at the Red Keep. “It doesn’t matter what they think,” so long as they had their dragons, so long as they had the protection of the crown.

She’s searched the history books, mythologies and legends. Dragons are a different kind of magic, so maester Geradys says, bound to the Dragon Lords of Old Valyria with ancient blood magic, the likes of which Westeros may never know. Rhaenyra says dragons are a power men should never have trifled with, that they are not to be controlled outright. Yet Luke had been able to tell Grey Ghost to dive into the God’s Eye and pluck a body from the water. No command, no tug on his reins. She hadn’t even been sitting in the saddle, it was as if she was the dragon itself, acting on her own will.

Is that proof then? If she asked Rhaenyra if she has ever lived through the mind of Syrax would she understand? Or would she think she was mad? If she asked maester Geradys if the greenmen had ever seen through the eyes of dragons… it would be an impossibility.

Dressed in a black gown, rubies dripping from a silver necklace like splatters of blood against her skin, she determines she is ready to face the Small Council, Corlys, Geradys, Lord Bar Eammon, Lord Masey, Lord Celtigar, the Manderlys, and standing along the left side of the room, the Dragonseeds, Hugh, Ulf, Addam, Nettles.

She takes her place at the head of the table, standing above her mother’s seat. “Well met,” she says. “What news from the Reach?”

Vermithor and Silverwing had flown over King’s Landing this morning, returning from their errand.

Hugh takes a small step forward. “The Hightowers have Bitterbridge.”

The Lords murmur in concern.

“What of the Caswells?”

“Lord Caswell’s widow surrendered her castle easily enough; her children have been sent to Oldtown as captives.”

“And what of their army?”

“Some have gathered at Tumbleton, along with the Footlys. Our force there is little over half the size of the Hightower host.”

“But you did not fight?” Corlys asks.

“No,” Hugh says.

“I would have thought Silvering and Vermithor would be more than enough to match the strength of one young dragon?”

Ulf scowls. “And if the Northmen had marched when they were summoned, we might have a sizeable army by now.”

With a sharp look from Luke he is silenced.

Jace trusted Lord Cregan enough to think she would be safe with him when her body was still broken, enough to protect her. They swore oaths to each other sealed in blood. She must also trust he will come to her when the time is right.

Master Geradys speaks next. “Rather crucially, Princess, this morning I received a raven from Winterfell. Cregan Stark has begun the march south, with twenty thousand Northmen at his back.”

“At long last,” she says. It will take them a month at the very least, assuming they do not meet any resistance on their journey, which could be very well if the Riverlands are not secured. When Cregan makes it south their fates will be sealed. Armies will collide, the fields of the Crownlands will be watered with blood. The war will be won or lost. And in time she will be made his wife– the thought weighs heavily in her stomach. A month. Can we hold King’s Landing for another month?

“You will be grateful for our Lord’s support when his army comes,” Torrehn Manderly says with a pointed look to Ulf.

Luke turns to a map, upright, carved with the landscape of the continent. It marks King’s Landing, Bitterbridge, Tumbleton, Harrenhal, Casterly Rock, The Twins, Winterfell.”

“What footing are we left with in the Riverlands? Does Sabitha Frey continue to besiege The Twins?”

“She will make quick work of it now,” Lord Celtigar says, “Jason Lannister will receive no relief from the Westerlands now that the Greyjoys are attacking from the sea. By all accounts, Lady Joanna has locked the gates of Casterly Rock and will wait out the raids.”

“The path through the Riverlands should be clear then,” Luke says. While the Lannisters are overwhelmed and Criston Cole’s men are scattered, the Blackwoods and the surviving men of the Riverlands are regrouping, readying to march south.

“We’ll send a raven to Dalton Greyjoy and tell him that Queen Rhaenyra is thankful for his efforts,” Lord Corlys says.

“For raiding innocents at Lannisport?” Luke says.

“For keeping the Lannisters occupied, and so that we may focus our efforts where they are needed most.”

Her chest sinks. She cannot deny that the Greyjoy’s are doing them a service, and it surely cannot be worse than what the Triarchy did to Hull and Hightide. Fire for fire, blood for blood, an endless exchange.

She moves to the map. Her fingers ghost over Storm’s End and Bitterbridge. “Our efforts must go towards ensuring the city’s defence,” she says.

“So we will sit and wait to anticipate an attack?” Lord Celtigar asks.

Doing otherwise was Aemond’s mistake when he held King’s Landing. Without Vhagar, the city was theirs to take. She will not repeat his shortcomings. She cannot afford to. “The throne is ours to defend. We keep our strength here.”

“The dragons,” Hugh says. The eyes of the lords fall upon him as if he has stated some sort of insult.

One dragon remains against their own and armies will burn easily enough.

“Ulf and Hugh, you will go to Tumbleton and ensure the town is defended. Daeron is a capable dragonrider, but he will not make the mistake to challenge Vermithor and Silverwing together now that he is vulnerable.”

The men exchange a curious look.

“If I may be so bold, Princess,” Hugh says, keeping his hands clasped in front of him, still wearing his riding leathers from his flight on Vermithor, his silver hair pulled out of his face. “As Queen Rhaenyra now holds King’s Landing, and we all have valiantly continued to defend her throne, one cannot help but wonder about his own standing.”

“Your standing?” Luke says.

Ulf takes a step forward now. “The realm is full of traitors, Princess; Hightowers, Baratheons, Lannisters. Did Prince Daemon not say he would see an end to their lines?”

“Do you fancy yourself a new Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Ser Ulf? And you?” she says to Hugh.

His face is not so severe, a little hesitant, but he finds his boldness. “I would have Highgarden.”

“Highgarden!” Lord Celtigar cries. “Now that is an ambition, when the Tyrells have sworn to take no part in this war?”

“The Lord of Highgarden is a boy, and his mother has sat idly while her bannermen have taken up arms against the true Queen,” Hugh says, only ever looking at Luke. “Would it not serve you better to have Lords who are loyal to you?”

Now she feels the eyes of the council upon her, men who need to respect her orders, her authority, her legitimacy. She slowly traces her steps back to the head of the table. “It would disturb the order of the world,” she says.

“And is that not precisely what we are?” Hugh says, letting his insinuation linger for just a moment too long, “us Dragonseeds? The Queen has established a new order, she did the moment she called upon us to claim the dragons.”

“You would do well to remember your place nevertheless,” Corlys says.

Ulf scoffs. “What of the place of your own bastards, my Lord? Would you remind them of their place?”

Addam shifts on his feet, a man with a gentle enough disposition, a fighter nonetheless. Nettles meets his eyes and shakes her head softly. All the men at the table are getting restless.

“Only the Queen has the power to grant you what you seek,” Luke says, “and alas, I am not the Queen.”

Hugh is a man of formidable strength, a blacksmith, with well worn hands that have bent metal to his will. He rides what is now the largest dragon in the world, he has the silver hair of his mother’s house, some might say the image of a King.

Luke remains steadfast. She cannot afford to be anything less. If they all share the same blood then what distinguishes them? She is the daughter of the Queen. Out of right or circumstance, the gods, in their strange workings, have placed her at the head of this council.

Hugh’s shoulders soften. “When would you have us fly to Tumbleton, Princess?” he asks.

Luke ensures that he holds her gaze. “On the morrow. Perhaps the morning will be best.”

“Very well,” he says and strides from the room, Ulf trailing behind him like a dog.

Their business continues in a solemn quiet, as if they are gathered around a grave that no one dares to mention.

Once the council has dispersed, Corlys remains seated and catches his granddaughter’s eye. “I do not trust those men,” he says. “They will keep pushing to see their demands met.”

“They command dragons,” Luke says. He knows as well as her, this cannot be undone.

After breakfast, Luke leads Joffrey down to the entrance yard. He takes up a small wooden sword and puts all his might into swinging at a stack of straw, occasionally corrected by Ser Lorent. He often makes the promise to himself that he’ll be as fierce a fighter as Jacaerys or Daemon.

“You fight well, little knight,” Luke says when he has finally exhausted himself.

He frowns, knowing he’ll be wanted inside for his lessons, a venture he finds far more tedious than swordsmanship. “Couldn’t we stay out a while longer?”

“A Prince has other duties than battle,” she says.

“Couldn’t we go to the Dragonpit? Tyraxes must miss me terribly.”

The thought makes her heart sink. Tyraxes has spent his life on Dragonstone, by his rider’s side or roaming the Dragonmount. He is still young, grieved to be alone as all children are.

“Perhaps another time.”

“Why not now?”

It can be heard in the sounds of the city. The markets are desolate. No food has come from the Reach since the outbreak of war. The Velaryon blockade has been lifted and allowed trade in from Essos, but the sea is depleted of fish and many in King’s Landing do not have the coin to pay for food. Ser Luthor Largent of the City Watch says the people of the city are becoming like dogs tearing each other apart for scraps.

Luke leads her brother back towards the Keep. “It is safer for us inside the castle walls. These are dangerous times.”

“But you still get to ride Grey Ghost.”

“Grey Ghost is wild. I do not think I could command him to go to the Dragon Pit if I tried.”

Joffrey’s head hangs as they climb the steps to the entrance hall. “Tyraxes doesn’t like to be apart from me.”

“You’ll be returned to him soon enough, I swear it.”

A distant roar pierces the air. On the battlements and beyond the walls are cries of “dragon!”

Joffrey clings to Luke’s side. She turns her gaze to the sky, unsure of what to expect.

“It is Vermithor and Silverwing!” a voice cries from the castle walls.

There is a sense of relief amongst the men, the scorpions positioned towards the sky are eased in their aim. The panic has dispersed but Luke’s grip on Joffrey’s hand tightens. On the morrow, she said, but Hugh and Ulf have brazenly disobeyed her orders.

The doors open twice a day, once as Geradys enters, and again when he leaves. The guards watch Aemond from within their armour, hands on their swords. He stares back as if he knows he could kill them with his bare hands. At least they fear him.

Geradys sees to his wounds, brings him broth boiled from bones and gritty, dry bread. He has asked for proper meat only to be old there is none for him. He might as well starve, at least he would not have to have such a poor excuse for food pass his lips.

He is restless, pacing the room, lying in his bed, sitting on the edge of it and staring down at his hands. Sometimes he stands by the window to remind himself that there is life beyond the walls of this chamber. He counts the tiled roofs and watches people moving through the streets like Helaena watches her pets through the bars of their cages. By the time he left King’s Landing he was hated by the smallfolk. What of it? They are made to obey, to revere Kings and Princes. What sort of life can Rhaenyra offer them that he could not when he wore the crown?

Otherwise he has taken to tormenting himself to pass his hours of isolation, because all he can think of is Lucerra.

She is in the same castle as him, wandering the halls, making commands of those around her, her mother’s heir. Every time he hears footsteps outside his door he holds his breath, waiting to see if the door will open and if she will enter his room.

Days pass since that first night and she does not come.

At night, when he tells himself the gods will turn their eyes from him, he clutches his hand over his throat, imagining it is hers. He feels the weight of her on top of him and pictures her legs straddled on either side of his body. He traces his fingertips along the same path down his chest, over the array of bruises around his ribs, stomach and navel.

She had been so delicate, ghosting over his skin like a gentle breath. His lips had been so close to her. If he had not been so startled he might have kissed her. An unusual impulse, one he had entertained the night his father died, and then some.

He can picture that less clearly with time, her sighs of pleasure as she slowly gave into him, the heat of her tight, wet cunt around his fingers. It made sense, didn’t it? Everything she had taken from him, wasn’t he owed something from her? He supposes now they are far past the constant exchanging.

“How many dead?” Rhaenyra asks from her throne. She keeps her hands in her lap, shrinking into herself so no part of her skin can touch the blades she sits upon.

A matter of days into winter and the violence has already begun.

“We lost at least twenty men,” Ser Luthor says, helm under his arm and his gold cloak splattered with blood. “We anticipate perhaps a hundred smallfolk have lost their lives, either in the crush or at the hands of the city watch. There may be many more injured.”

Rhaenyra remains unchanged in the face of the tragedy, beautiful and cold.

The crown’s coffers were empty when they took the capital at the orders of Tyland Lannister, as he confessed under sharp questioning. He sent the gold to a number of Green strongholds and he is yet to admit exactly which. What does it matter where the gold is? If it is in the Reach or the Westerlands, they have no hope of retrieving it.

Daemon said from the outset, the city cannot be held without gold. The war cannot be fought without gold.

Under Rhaenyra’s orders, tithes have been taken from the people of King’s Landing and the rest of the Crownlands, gold, weapons and armour, food, livestock for the dragons, all in the name of protecting the realm, ending the war, defending the throne.

This is what it has come to. A cart containing stores of grain and enough gold to pay Rhaenyra’s men-at-arms had been brought through the city and the people descended upon it like vultures to a carcass, only there were more than scraps to be had, more than slivers of rotten flesh clinging to bones. Not even the horses had been spared, ripped apart for their meat in the frenzy.

“How can the captains of the city watch have allowed this to happen?” Corlys demands, standing at the foot of the throne. Luke stands beside him.

“My Lord, we are commanded to bring order to the city. Those who attacked the cart were not deterred by our threats. Something had to be done.”

“And you chose to deal them death,” Corlys says.

“We did what we could to protect the crown’s property.”

Corlys brings his hands in front of him in defeat and disgust. He turns to the Queen and says with no amount of subtlety, “this cannot go unanswered.”

Rhaenyra turns her head, her eyes full of fire. “I will put this right by ending the war.”

As the court is dismissed and disperses, Corlys leans into Luke’s ear and hisses, “a war she herself refuses to fight.”

An uncertain feeling flashes through her heart. Corlys’ doubt feels like a betrayal. “You would not suggest our Queen put her own life at risk, I hope,” she says gravely, carrying a warning in her voice.

He gives her a questioning look. “My ships still defend the city, my men are sworn to the true Queen.”

“And with your support, we shall prevail,” she says.

Rhaenyra descends the steps of the throne, the crown set upon her head, her gown heavy and scaled like the hide of a dragon, save for a cut of red fabric in the skirts, like a tear through flesh. “Come, daughter,” she says solemnly, reaching out her hand for Luke to take.

With a final look to her grandfather, and a check to make sure Ser Lorent was indeed out of earshot of their musings, Luke obeys her mother.

They walk through the castle and return to the Queen’s chambers. A handmaiden waits to remove Rhaenyra’s crown. She cannot get it off fast enough, nor her gold rings and her heavy necklace while Luke waits by the door.

“You sent Vermithor and Silverwing from King’s Landing,” Rhaenyra says.

“The Hightowers took Bitterbridge. They could be weeks way. Hugh and Ulf will hold Tumbleton and deter the approaching army.”

Rhaenyra says nothing, taking a seat at a desk by the window, facing the daylight.

“Seasmoke and Grey Ghost will defend the city well enough if Daeron tries to attack, but he will not risk it I think, not without an army.”

“What of our army?”

Luke hesitates, unsure of what Rhaenyra will know, how far she has been briefed by Corlys or maester Geradys. “Cregan Stark has left Winterfell, the Rivermen are regrouping. I thought I might send Nettles and Sheepstealer north to encourage our allies.”

Her mother has been silent for days, even a simple hum of agreement feels like a victory.

“And Baela remains on Dragonstone, we could easily summon her should we need another dragon.” In her mind it all comes together easily, as long as their allies do not delay, as long as the Baratheons continue to wait, as long as they have the dragons, as long as the city holds.

There’s a nauseating feeling in her stomach, the scent of blood lingering in her nose. Blood on a golden cloak. Blood stains at the foot of the Iron Throne.

“You are so like your brother,”

Something inside of her shatters, crumbling foundations. The space behind her eyes burns but her hands are cold and the grip she has learned to have on her own mourning slips through her fingers like water.

“He was like this too. When you were gone he knew what to do. How did he know what to do? He was scarcely a man, he had seen no battles or wars.” When Rhaenyra looks over her shoulder, the dying daylight burns like a fire behind her, catching in her silver hair. “The two of you, so pragmatic.”

Luke took no fall for Jace, no sword in her gut. No fire burned her to charred remains. Her skin was not left bruised after he died, but the pain has lingered for far longer than any other she has known. She can’t stand it, the anger it fuels. Why remind me? Why remind me he is dead?

“You should meet with the Small Council on the morrow, mother. Your Lords may begin to rue your absence.” They already have.

Rhaenyra’s silhouette against the light does not seem to shift.

Geradys comes as he always does. Aemond drinks the vile bone broth and forces stale bread down his throat. His bandages are changed, some strong smelling oil placed on his temples, honey lathered over the cut on his lip.

Then he is instructed to stand, to raise his arms as though a squire is about to dress him in armour. Instead he winces at the aching in his chest. Geradys pats his hands around the bandages. “You are making progress, I think. How is the pain?”

It is easing, little by little. “Tolerable,” Aemond says.

When night comes and he is alone, he waits for sleep to claim him so he can see the faces of his family, but even his dreams have abandoned him now. He is restless for hours, fading in and out of darkness until the first glimpses of sunrise.

What would Alys say to that, dreamless sleep? She might say the gods have forsaken him. She might say he is nothing now, a being of purely organic existence, mechanical like the life of an insect, an animal kept captive.

But what did any of his dreams mean to her? “Retribution will come with fire and fury,” she said, but in the end she meant it to come at the point of a knife wielded by her own hands. Why? Why taunt him with her visions? Why had he allowed himself to be tempted?

He had thought it meant Lucerra. If anyone should claim retribution in the ending of his life, surely it would be her.

He is not absolved and he knows this, but perhaps he has outlived his usefulness. Helaena and his mother are in the same castle as him and now their enduring lives are a matter of strategy, as Lucerra had made clear. In a silent prayer to the Seven, he wishes– begs that his brother can stay hidden, dead or alive. Just until Aemond can regain his strength, until he can fight his way out of this room, or to find some other advantage.

Since when did a locked door render him powerless?

There are two people left in the Red Keep who may know where Aegon is.

Alicent Hightower stays in her chambers. Rhaenyra allows her to keep a Septa in her company and the guards say she does nothing but weep and pray. Maester Geradys says her knees are bloody and bruised where she kneels on the stone floor, clutching a pendant of the seven pointed star until that too pricks at the flesh of her palms.

When Luke enters Helaena’s chambers the air is stone cold. No fire is lit despite the turning weather. Helaena sits on the floor amongst a collection of pillows and furs, deeply concentrated on a piece of embroidery. When she hears footsteps, her head lifts to the door, eyes are wide and more alert than they have been for months. “You’ve come to ask something of me,” she says.

The air of the room is fragile. Luke’s heart races in her chest knowing what her question will bring. She steps towards Helaena cautiously, smiling as kindly as she can, lowering herself to sit beside her.

Helaena’s hands are frozen in her work, sewing black thread into green and gold fabric, in a pattern like winged insects.

“I wish to know how you are,” Luke says.

Helaena tilts her head. Her lips are fallen and her brow is focused. Luke had never thought there was much of a resemblance between her mother and her aunt, and now she sees it. “Last night I dreamt that my son was in my arms. I rocked him though he was already sleeping and when I placed my fingers against his cheek, his skin was cold.”

“Do you know where Maelor is?”

Helaena presses her lips together. Her eyes have dropped to the fabric in her hands and she shakes her head.

“Did someone take him from you?”

“I cannot say,” she picks up her embroidery with trembling hands, tracing her fingers over the black thread. “He wasn’t with me. I couldn’t bear to look at him, not after– all I’d see when I looked at him was blood.”

After the twins, after she watched them die.

“Rhaenyra has called for his return to the Red Keep. It is our hope he will be returned to you.”

Helaena snatches her hand around Luke’s wrist. Her grip is fierce and unrelenting. It hurts and all Luke can do is look at her reddened, glistening eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Helaena, If it is in my power, I will see your son kept safe.”

“But I saw…” she frowns to herself, dragging her hands over her eyes to dry them. “Perhaps I have been mistaken.”

“Your dreams,” Luke says. Blood and water, green and black, blue and green, dragons and ghosts. The trail of blood.

“I cannot make sense of them sometimes. I saw the rats, I knew they’d want the boy but they took both.”

“When you dreamt of Maelor, where were you?”

“I saw Aemond’s death, I saw him swallowed up in the God’s Eye, and yet you tell me he is alive. I saw you at the Weirwood, with that woman, the Rivers woman.”

“Heleana please,”

“Do you think I would direct you to him even if I knew where he was?” she says sadly, sharply.

It takes Luke by surprise. “I swear, I would never wish harm upon him.”

“His life is a threat to your mother’s rule. Perhaps you would not seek to hurt him, he is only a child, he is your kin, but Rhaenyra has claimed the lives of two of my children already.”

“She never meant for them to die.”

“Should I not grieve them then?”

Luke can hardly find breath to speak. “Yes, yes of course you should. They were children.”

“But you didn’t come here to mourn Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. And if you seek Maelor then you seek his father.”

Luke knows she shouldn’t press her. She loathes herself, her own cruelty to torment her aunt in the face of her grief.

Helaena frowns, but then all the rage and sadness fades from her face. She looks to Luke with such honesty and sincerity. Her voice is a harsh whisper. “Aegon will be King again. He is yet to see victory.”

Luke had not thought Helaena capable of bluffing. She could be lying. Her dreams could have misled her. She could have said it in a moment of anger, of desperation. What does she have left? She doesn't even know where her last remaining child is, if he is safe, if he is dead or alive.

She leaves Helaena to her embroidery. The winged insects were flies, she realises.

What Helaena said cannot be true. Rhaenyra has seven fighting dragons at her disposal. Their allies are marching. The Hightowers may be inching closer to King’s Landing but the rest of the Green forces are scattered. Their King is missing, their Regent is her prisoner…

Her skin tightens at the very thought of seeing him again, braving that confining little chamber once more. To feel his eye burning into her.

But who would be able to make sense of Helaena’s musings better than her brother?

No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates <3

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x oc #aemond x ofc #aemond x fem!lucerys #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond x original female character #aemond x reader #fem!lucerys #lucemond #my fics #karma is a god

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ebonystarfall · 3 months

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Can I request a oneshot of Kui Mulang x Jade Maiden rencarnate except they're a demon with koi fish attributes (like the same color scheme as the Jade Maiden but with pretty scales and a flowy tail)

Wolf Fangs and Koi Scales

Kui Mulang x Jade Maiden Reincarnate (Koi Fish Demon)

Created by: Starlight, Owner 2.

Type of content: Oneshot

Point of view: Second

Word Count: 1,089

TW: Mentions of murder, small angst (I wasn’t aware that I had added that in), possible ooc (it could be in character, we just haven’t seen how he is around the Jade Maiden. After all, he was basically featured in one episode.)

A/N: Starlight here. Starbeam (Owner 1) put me in charge of this ask. If you notice a different style of writing for both of us, then you’re right. I get most of my writing styles from reading too many classic books. (Please save me) However, I don’t mind getting to be a little silly on my main account. You can definitely see the clear difference between us 😊

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

Silence. Irritating, lonely silence. It reverberated in the ears of Kui Mulang. In any other moment, the air would have been filled with screams—agonized, desperate cries of those whose souls he devoured, savoring their terror with a cruel smile. Yet now, only the oppressive quiet of the throne room surrounded him. A weary, disenchanted sigh escaped his lips. Perhaps he had grown weary of this existence. Was it truly so difficult to find his lost love once more? Had the relentless march of Time claimed her irrevocably? Was he merely clinging to a mirage of hope? No, he could not succumb to doubt. He had ventured too far down this dark path to consider redemption. He must press on.

Thus far, his guards had failed to present any new captives. No souls? Kui Mulang assumed that the denizens of the region had received the warning and chosen to keep their distance. Resolving to take matters into his own hands, he decided upon a solitary stroll beyond the palace walls. None would object, he reasoned. Moreover, it had been some time since he last ventured forth, and the diversion would serve to occupy his restless spirit.

A thought unfurled within his mind. What if he were to find the reincarnation of his beloved wandering about? A solemn sigh escaped him as he made his way toward the palace exit. It was a wild notion, indeed, but not one beyond the realm of possibility. Though it was a chance in a thousand, he would grasp it. Kui Mulang surveyed the palace’s exterior surroundings and commenced his walk along the dirt road, his gaze fixed solemnly ahead.

Memories of the Jade Maiden surfaced: her radiant smile in response to his words, her voice as melodious as a harp, and her laughter—that he missed most. It was her laughter that could banish the oppressive silence of his palace. In truth, he had never regarded that cold and dark palace as a home. Nowhere could he deem a home without her presence.

—

He had been walking for quite some time now. The moon had ascended higher in the sky since he last glimpsed it. Lost in contemplation during his quiet stroll, he unexpectedly encountered a river. How peculiar—it seemed unfamiliar to him. Could his memory of the outside world be fading? No, he must simply have overlooked it before. The demon approached the riverbank, determining it was an decent place to pause and rest briefly. Yet, from the corner of his lavender eyes, he detected a movement…or was it a figure?

He tensed, squinting at the disturbance in the water. It might have been a mere fish, but few fish boasted scales so elongated. Kui Mulang called out, his voice tinged with both curiosity and a chilling edge.

“Who lurks there? Reveal yourself, or face... consequences.”

He was greeted by the sound of splashing—yes, unmistakably splashing, farther downstream. Stealthily and with great caution, he traced the source of the sound, and his eyes widened at the sight before him. There you were, a demon resembling a koi fish. Your fins and scales cascaded elegantly, reminiscent of flowing robes in hues of white and sunset orange. He was struck with astonishment. What manner of power did you possess? Who were you, truly?

"You appear troubled. But fear not. I'm y/n, and you must be the owner of the palace not far from here," you said, your smile warm and kind.

He was taken aback. His guards had never mentioned finding you, and if they had, they certainly hadn't brought you to the palace. Your smile seemed innocent, brimming with joy. He felt an urge to shatter your soul and consume it on the spot, yet found himself unable to proceed. Why? Not even a cruel demon like him could answer that question.

“Are you aware of the fact that I could kill you right now?”

“Of course.”

“But you won’t run- or, well, swim away?”

“If you were going to harm me, you would’ve done so already.”

The wolf demon had paused, contemplating your words. You were correct, he realized. He could have struck the moment he spotted movement in the water. Even if you were merely another demon, he couldn't fathom why he had refrained from devouring your soul. Was it because you reminded him of... her? No, that couldn't be. You could never be the Jade Maiden, despite the unsettling resemblance in your smile and the way your fins and tail resembled her elegant attire. The parallels were uncanny.

“Are you aware of who I am? Truly, do you know my name, or what I have done besides being the cause of demise for the creatures in the area?”

“…I was planning on asking you the same. You feel like a stranger I’ve crossed paths with before. Many times, in fact.”

Kui Mulang took a surprised step forward, disguising it with a throat-clearing cough. It all seemed too good to be true. You didn't appear to remember him entirely, but there were hints of familiarity in your manner. Even one memory would be enough. If you truly didn't recall... he would gladly bring you back to the palace and assist you in any way he could. Hope surged within him, albeit tinged with desperation. Part of him wished you would deny knowing him at all, so he could get rid of this false hope and consume your soul. Yet, it felt like you were being sincere. And that genuinely frightened him. Fear gripped him—the fear of losing the Jade Maiden, of losing what he had just found.

With utmost gentleness, he took your hands in his and gazed into your eyes. He detected a hint of surprise in your expression as your hands rested in his grasp, along with a touch of fluster. He whispered softly in your ear, his voice slightly hesitant yet filled with hope, “Who was I to you in those memories?”

“…you were someone that I felt like I cared about, it felt like I loved you. Isn’t that strange?”

A small, hesitant smile crept onto his face as he suddenly enveloped you in his arms, drawing you close in a tight embrace, indifferent to his robes becoming damp from the river. He almost felt as though he were hallucinating from the sheer joy of the moment. Closing his eyes, he buried his head against your shoulder.

“Dearest, I could never think it was strange…”

“It still seems surprising, of course.”

“Ah, still as humorous as ever, I see.”

#kui mulang x reader #lmk x reader #lmk kui mulang #jade maiden reincarnate x kui mulang #lego monkiekid x reader #lego monkie kid x y/n #writers on tumblr

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applepiesinajar · 2 months

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demon slayer swap au: pt1 Gyokko

So a couple ideas to note. Hes kinda like shinobo in this au in the sense that her butterfly mansion girls and kanao are instead the demon vase fish he summoned during the swordsmith arc. (I saw a tiktok with a similar idea and really liked it) He uses water breathing obviously. I haven’t counted how many hashira there are so idk out of them all where he’d land power-wise. Design wise I made him black (or blasain) with vitiligo. I figured it would be a cool way for his face to be pale white and for his hands to be a different color like how in his og design it fades to blue. I think in his og design his “hair” was supposed to be like fish fins, but i thought they kinda looked like dreads or box braids. (Another reason I decided he’d be black/blasain) He has scars all over his body that look similar to fish scales so lots of people joke he’s the “fish hashira” even though he is the water hashira. He’s not the fish hashira that’s stuipd ok.

Back to the children thing. He is not the bio father to any of them, but because when he was a child his parents died in a demon boat accident he has great sympathy for orphans. (Unlike in cannon where he hates kids and kills them) (also the demon part was added on idk) I think he has 4 different fishy guys so it’d be four kids too. Likely all of various ages. (I still need to think through them)

so I think after his parents died (he didn’t know it was a demon that killed them he was just told an accident accrued at sea), he was left on his own. People thought he was bad luck bc his parents died and racism probably. Later in life (8 when parents died 12 when this happened) his parents died more people he knew were killed by demons and at that point is when he also learned his parents where actually killed by demons. So he joins the demon slayer corps (he does finally deletion when 16) and eventually becomes hashira(mid-20s). Present day mid-30s.

I can’t think of other ideas rn but when i do I’ll edit/add them.

#demon slayer #kny #kny spoilers #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer swap au #kny hashira #demon slayer hashira #gyokko #upper moon 5 #kny fanart #hashira #backstory

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pinejayy · 1 year

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Art piece~ Gyokko x F!Reader smut

this is mostly for my pleasure and dirty minded head, and you can judge me all you want I won’t mind uwu my boyfriend already judges me for simping for this demon <3

warnings: dirty talking, oral (f!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, abit of degenerate, gyokko is the master of praising, orgasm, two mouths so twice the pleasure 😩, strip tease, master

just to clarify that gyokko is gonna be in his final form because yes daddy

~ Gyokko was a busy demon, he hardly had anytime free time. He was either busy making/selling his beautiful vases or doing Muzan’s bidding. But today he surprisingly he had the ‘day off’ and he wanted to spend his free time with you. You were a beautiful delicate human women who belonged to him and yes he could have killed you by now but he loved having a play toy. Gyokko saw you as an Art Piece, you had the right curves, your chest was the prefect size for him. But what he really loves about you is your smile, your smile adds everything together and he can’t get enough.

Nightfall was the current time, and Gyokko had plans for you tonight. Lovely plans~

As you were in your home, cleaning around. Mostly cleaning the vases your boyfriend gifted you. You made sure to take good care of them, but as you were cleaning you heard a voice behind you.

“Oh my! Look at what I have here!” Gyokko said, coming out from a vase that was besides the window. “It’s my little precious art piece~.”

Your head turned towards him and you smile, walking towards him. “Hello pretty boy, I haven’t seen you in so long.” Looking at him, you smile. Yes he was unique looking but something about him drew you close to him. It was as if you were under a spell. “I missed you, so much.” Placing a kiss on one of his lips.

Gyokko giggled slightly and retuned the kiss, he pulled away soon after and looked at you. “Oh I’ve missed you too my precious work of art.” He looked down at you. “But I have a surprise for you sweetheart!!

Looking at him, you raised an eyebrow. “A other vase?” You joke around. He shook his head, giggling like a maniac. He was clapping his infant like hands together. “Then what is it.”

“Hmm. Pick me up and take me to your room then you’ll find out. It’s a good surprise~.” He said huskily. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You just nodded and picked up the vase he was in and walked towards you room. Once you were in your room you set him down gently. “Ooh look away my dear Y/N~.”

You rolled your eyes and turn around. Gyokko just giggled. He watched you and made sure you weren’t looking. He smirked to himself. This was the night he was going to show you his true form.

“You can look my sweet Y/N~.” He whispered softly.

You felt your stomach drop, something was off. Slowly you started to turn around and saw Gyokko. But he seemed different, he had big muscular arms that were covered in fish scales, and he had a snake like tail. Just standing there, he looked at you. A slight redness across his face.

“Come here~” He told you, moving one finger indicating you to move closer. “I won’t bite you, unless you want me to.” Licking his lips, he patted his snake like thigh. “Sit.”

Without thinking about anything, you walked towards him. Sitting on his thigh, you look at him. “What’s with the new look?”

“It’s my true form, don’t you like it?” He pouted softly, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer against his body. “I’ve only showed this form to a few people but they haven’t lived an other day to tell anyone.” He whispered, he began placing gentle kisses across your neck. “But don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you. Oh no no no, I’m going to do the opposite.”

Gyokko kept kissing your neck, you just sat there. Biting your lip. You were enjoying this, he smirked against your skin. He soon looked at you and kissed you with one of his mouths. You immediately kissed back. The kiss was filled with passion and lust. And Gyokko was enjoying every moment of it. He licked the bottom of your lip asking for permission. You gladly gave him that permission. He slid his cold wet tongue in, roaming around your mouth. Moaning into the kiss, he the pulled away making you whimper.

“Ah don’t be like that sweetheart, my other mouth also needs kissing.” Kissing your lips with his other mouth, but this time the kiss was more rough. His hands were roaming around your body. Slowly they started to roam lower and lower until they reached your butt.

“You are truly an Art Piece Darling ~.” He said between the kiss. You just moan softly. He the pulled away from the kiss. Looking at him you smile, but soon after you smirked at him. You lean in and started to place kisses all over his neck. He was surprised, but he giggled slightly. “Oh my!”

As you were placing kisses all over his neck he couldn’t help but moan slightly. This made you go crazy, it made you wet honestly. And you wanted to feel something. Then you slowly started to move you hips against his thigh. He was surprised by your actions but he didn’t complain either. He just sat there and enjoyed himself.

Moaning softly, you kept rocking your hips against his thigh. It felt so good, the fabric of your underwear and bottoms rubbing against his thigh. It was the perfect friction and movement your womenhood needed. Gyokko was getting excited, he watched you please yourself. He watched you ride his thigh and it was beautiful. He began to lick his lips.

“Mm Gyokko~.” You moan out. Kissing his neck softly, you ran your tongue on his neck. “This feels so good.”

“Mm and the view of this is beautiful. You’re doing a great job darling.” He whispered against your ear. Feeling his breath against your ear. He grabbed your butt and helped you move against his thigh.

“Oh, I’m close. I’m close Gyokko.” You moan out. Before you could reach your climax he stopped you. He stopped your movements, making you whimper softly.

“Tsk tsk tsk…not yet. I’m not done with you yet. Now strip for me.” He said. Gripping your hair roughly. “Do as I say.”

“Yes Master~.” You say, the word master rolled off your tongue so naturally. He just smirked and let go of your hair. You stood by and look at him. Oh you were gonna give him a show.

Slowly you started to strip. As you began to strip he watched you so intensely. Smirking at him you blew him a kiss. One by one your clothes started to fall to the ground. And when you got to your underwear and bra you took them off and threw them at him.

He groaned and looked at you. “Come here Darling.” He said. You walk slowly towards him, but before you could do anything he grabbed you and pinned you into your bed. He was on top of now, he didn't put his weight on you. “You’re so beautiful darling.” He whispered. Placing kisses on your chest, both mouths giving you kisses. As he was kissing your chest he couldn’t help but run his tongue on your nipple. Making you moan softly. “You’re so beautiful, I love your body. It’s the most perfect body I’ve ever seen. I love every freckle and spot, it makes you perfect. And the way your skins shines is wonderful. You're truly beautiful darling~."

As he was talking to you his kisses got lower, and lower until he reached your thighs. They were close. “Open up sweetheart, I want a delicious treat.”

You blush and slowly open your legs. He smirked as he saw your wetness. “Naughty little thing, already so wet. By just riding my thigh.” He laughed softly. He leaned in and with one of his mouths he placed a kiss on your clit. “You’re such a dirty girl, my dirty girl..”

And with that he leaned in, his tongue moving in your folds. He moaned softly, he loved the way you tasted. “You taste Devine darling.” He whispered softly. You just moan in response, he smirked. But he kept eating you out as if you were his last meal. He kept on switching mouths, because like how he says both mouths need love. And both mouths wanted to taste you.

As you laid there moaning, you whimpered. The way he moves his tongue against your folds made you feel good.

Gyokko looked at you. He watched you moan. He really loved this sight. You truly were beautiful to him, he then placed a long lick on your clit. It made you moan even louder and he just smirked. With one of his mouths he decided to focus on your clit. Licking it and sucking on it.

While his other mouth was talking to you. "My these beautiful nosies you're making." He chuckled. He watched you moan and he was getting excited. "I love the way you move around, I love every little noise you make. You're prefect darling. You're beautiful as an Art Piece."

You throw your head back moaning as he was playing around your clit. His words made you melt. "I'm cumming Master...please." You whimpered loudly.

He smirked and pulled away making you whimper but before you could tell him anything he shoved two fingers inside you. Gasping loudly. He smirked at your reaction. "Oh I'm sorry Sweetheart, but I'm not done playing with you."

He moved his fingers in and out of you. You were so tight against his fingers. "Wow your a mess by just my tongue and fingers. How weak. How are you going to take the real thing sweetheart."

You moaned softly and look at him, biting your lip. "You make me feel so good Master."

He just chuckled and smirked. "Of course I do!! No other Men or Demon compare to the great Gyokko."

Your walls clenched around his fingers. He smirked, he started to slow down the pace making you hiss. "Beg for it.. beg like the weak human you are."

"Please~ Please Master. I'm so close please grant me the pleasure of cumming." You moan out.

He smirked at your words and just nodded. He began to move his fingers faster. And with his thumb he began to rub your clit. "Come on Darling. You can finish. I grant you the permission."

That's all you wanted to hear, and when he finished his sentence your walls tightened against his fingers and you moaned loudly as you reached your climax.

Gyokko smirked at himself. He pulled his fingers out of you and placed them in his mouth. Sucking his fingers. "Mm better than human flesh."

You blush and just lay there. Panting softly. You close your eyes for awhile.

He looked at you. He then started to trace a finger across your body. "Have I ever told you that your beautiful darling. I can't get enough of you. I'm thankful that you're blessing me with your body. You're my favorite kind of Art Piece."

You open your eyes and look at him. Sitting up you placed a kiss on his neck. "And I'm also lucky to have you. The great and powerful Gyokko." You say, and lay back down. Closing your eyes.

"Ah ah! Who says you can rest sweetheart? That was only the warm up." He began saying. And slowly he began wrapping his snake like tail around your body. But not to tight, he didn't want to crush you.

"I hope you're ready for tonight sweetheart. You're gonna be screaming my name. Everyone is gonna know my name~." He said. Smirking down at you.

"Everyone is going to know the name Gyokko~"

Taglist: @toni69kune

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #smut #gyokko x reader #gyokko #gyokko smut #kny #kny smut

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