#enchante brain rot has returned

[justafriend-ql]

Sorry I kept you waiting. ENCHANTÉ | Episode 8

[peachesofteal]

I can’t stop thinking about witch!reader x Fae!Johnny ✨

Previous here. Original fic here.

What if you did do something when you pointed your finger at him? Not a hex, not a curse either… but a binding. Maybe you didn’t do it on purpose, had no idea you fused a piece of your magic with his, wrapped a thread of your soul around his, the power in his very touch entangling with yours the moment he wrapped his fingers around your wrist.

Or maybe you did do it on purpose.

And Johnny has no idea.

He returns to his realm uneasily, the day after you corner him. A headache, something surprisingly mortal, blooms behind the back of his eyes when you advance on him, and an ache settles beneath his ribs when you snatch your hand out of his grasp and stomp away, red and purple magic angrily arcing off from you and tainting the air with a tart, burnt aftertaste.

He tries not to think about how enchanting you were, standing before him raging like a storm at sea, adorable and violent, just as he’s already tried to burn the memory of his evening in your bookshop from his mind. He tries not to remember the way the you practically glowed when you spoke of your power, your connection with the mortal elements that allowed you to feel so much more than he ever imagined, or the way your smile notched to the side when he sloppily tried to imitate the way you wove together the web of blood magic.

A distraction, that’s all you would be. A creature of lesser magic in a far away realm, something that’s not meant for him.

He thinks it will pass, once he returns home. He imagines it’s just a side effect of frequent realm to realm travel, too many trips in too many days, and he can practically hear Price telling him he needs to stay in Faerie for a while, at least until his magic settles and his body adjusts to it’s rightful plane. After all… his kind doesn’t take sick like others. They can suffer magical ailments, wounds from weapons or other Fae, but to fall ill is incredibly rare. And only usually happens to those of them who are incredibly stupid. Still, the headache rots and spreads throughout his brain, festering in his magic until it becomes an unruly, ungovernable thing that barely recognizes him, and his muscles are unbearably sore, useless in his body when he tries to exert himself in any way. All the while, something else aches in his soul, a unbearable yearning that builds and builds like a dark cloud growing heavy with rain.

“Soul sick.” Simon’s Nereid tells him, the day he drags himself to their door for help, her expression rife with pity. “Someone has bound themselves to you. Your soul mourns for theirs, their magic now woven into the threads of your own.” The image of you pointing at him flashes through his mind, your gaze enraged, and haunted while you cursed him up and down. Surely… you did not mean for this?

Simon watches him knowingly when he describes the night he met you, the interaction in the bookshop that led to you disclosing the key secrets of blood magic, the way he sat with you for hours, mystified by your ability and passion, entranced by your beauty. A bonus, he tried to tell Simon, that’s all it was, but when he thinks about the way you looked when you thrust your finger into his face, fiery and full of rage, he realizes it was much, much more than that.

“Perhaps she planned this, Johnny.” He intones, hand laying possessively on the thigh of his wife while she sits in his lap, and Johnny shakes his head in denial. Did you? Were you capable of such a thing? Your words are burned into his mind, the venom in your voice playing on repeat.

You tricked me, you Fae bastard.

Had you tricked him in return?

He returns to the mortal realm in a fury and breaks down the door of the flat above the bookshop, snarling your name down the hall to no avail.

“Do not hide from me.” He calls, sugaring his voice with honey, trying to draw you out from where you hide. “I know what’s happened, little one. Now-“ His sentence dies in his throat when he pushes your bedroom door open, a peculiar numbness sweeping through his body when he finally sees you where you lay.

Fear is the unknown sensation that pours through him, that paralyzes him. It’s fear that anesthetizes him when he finds you crumpled on the floor, your magic drained from your body like someone has bled you dry, eyes peeled wide in agony and a rasping breath on your lips.

“Oh, little witch.” He murmurs, kneeling slowly by your side, wide palm slipping behind your neck gently. “What have you done?”

[genichisojo]

Today I will be breaking down Kagurabachi's Chihiro’s age and why he’s a great 18 yr old protagonist and acts his age. Please forgive if my current DC brain rot bleeds into this.

I think Chihiro’s core can attributed to growing up being loved and respected by his parents. One of the first conversations is Kunishige telling Chihiro if he wants to be a blacksmith like him and carry the burden of the role’s consequences, “…If that’s how you feel, all that’s left, is for me to believe in you.” I think when you grow up with a loving parent like that, that loving voice is always in your head. He reminds me of that joke that the reason Superman is so good is because both of his parents loved him unconditionally. But who do we get when you have loving parents who get killed in a traumatic way in front of you? Batman, hi! Hi, Batman! Hi! AKA “that nut from Gotham city” and Chihiro already has such a reputation. Not as a psycho, but he’s deemed dangerous and strong. He’s someone to keep an eye out for now. He’s been underestimated before this arc because of his age.

I personally think that had Kunishige never been murdered, Chihiro wouldn’t had ever chosen to wield a blade unless it came to a time of war. But he adapted to the idea easily because he’s been preparing himself his whole life to be responsible for deaths as a blacksmith. What’s the difference anyways when you’re the wielder? Probably a lot, but you’re a teenager and want one thing, and it’s the right thing in your mind so let’s just start moving.

He has assigned himself the responsibility to get the katanas back and get revenge, and he’s very set on it in a one track, 18 yr old way. When Char got taken, his mind was on getting her back. When Sojo was doing his shit, his mind was on taking him down. Then he immediately moves back into getting back the katanas, not really taking time to process literally losing a limb after already not fully healing from a hospital visit. He’s reckless with his physical health- typical for his age.

Older characters around him also treat him his age. Shiba doesn’t really leave him out of his sight if we’re real about it. He lets him fight on his own trusts that he has a handle on things because he knows him and probably trained him. He would’ve gone in during the first fight with Sojo had Azami not stopped him. He is willing to hop in when things get bad, and he will always be there to catch him, but overall, he knows he’s old enough to handle physical strain. Still, there’s that famous moment in the train at the beginning where Shiba does warn Chihiro all the hatred he’s been carrying is “…gonna break you.”

Chihiro asks in return, “So you wanna stop me?” And neither of them says anything and continue to go about their mission. Shiba respects Chihiro and his choices, understands he’s an adult and this is what he wants, but he looks out for him because at the end of the day, he’s still eighteen. And his best friend’s baby.

We also have Azami who summoned the Kamunabi because although he he’s been told Chihiro can fight, he also knew that he had never fought another enchanted blade wielder before and knew the city damage could get crazy. In a way, I think it was also a way to keep an eye on him because he doesn’t want him to get hurt, either. Azami has been proven to be sentimental with his phone lockscreen. He kept Chihiro’s existence a secret because until KB’s starting point, he was a child. He’s barely an adult, and Azami who hadn’t seen him in a while, is still like I guess he can handle it, if Shiba says and then absolutely not.

FINAL POINT SORRY THIS IS 867 WORDS: Chihiro treats children well. He talks to children in a way kids like to be talked to but rarely are because honestly, kids aren’t seen as real people at times. Kids say crazy things, but he still took time to feed and talk to Char and take her seriously even before they were attacked. The same thing just happened in today’s chapter. He gets down to their level, listens to them in the way his father listened to him, and he goes along with what they want while making sure they’re not going to die.

Chihiro was shown to have been a responsible child and he had to grow up quick to be able to accomplish his goals. In a way, an indirect goal of his is to protect the innocent- children. He knows what it’s like to be a defenseless child and to have nobody run to your aid, so he acts the most rational when other people’s lives are on the line. And when it all falls on his life, he lets himself get a little bit reckless because that’s just what allegedly blood thirsty 18 yr old boys do. I’ll come back to the allegedly later.

[taybatwo2]

I have been LOVING the new Bad Batch season (and it looks GORGEOUS). I have just been having complete brain rot over all of these clones!!! Spoilers under the cut!!

This season has really made me appreciate Crosshair SO MUCH! It was great to see returning faces (Chuchi! Wolffe! HOWZER!!).

Some random spoilers/thoughts for the newest episodes:

I’m just thinking about how poor Echo left Teth feeling pretty good about himself. He gave his kid a new toy that she’s pretty psyched about, he’s going to pick up Gregor, their insurgency is growing, Fireball is making some kick ass soup….

….and then he comes back, and like EVERYONE IS DEAD, their hide out is destroyed and they’re all on the run again, and he didn’t get any spicy soup!!

Why do they HAVE TO NAME ALL THESE CLONES!!! I already get attached and then they TAKE THEM AWAY! Aaaaand Hunter…he is/was my favorite of the Bad Batch, but the writers kinda forget about his “enhanced abilities/sensing electromagnetism field” A LOT. Maybe if he offhandedly said, the current stress was messing with his senses or one of his brothers startles him by just walking up behind him and he’s like: “later I can’t seem to sense anything around me…” or something like that!

Like, he doesn’t hear/sense Sniper CloneX2 AT ALL (Crosshair actually sees him TWICE before Hunter), the RHO-Class Transport Shuttles (Batcher senses them before he does), the troopers coming up the stairs…

I mean, Batcher has pretty much taken over his “enhanced senses” roll and Crosshair has bonded SUPER well with Omega (I barely categorize him as the grumpy Uncle anymore, he’s more like the begrudging Papa now). I wonder if all the sudden bonding with Crosshair and Omega is foreshadowing just the two of them and Batcher surviving….

….but I’m sure everyone totally will live, and AND Tech is actually still definitely alive on Eriadu camping out and trying to contact Phee/his brothers to pick him up…..

Then there is that theory that Sniper CloneX2 is Tech…I could see that, maybe it’s Cody (I’m less certain); I’m starting to think that it is a Clone that has been enchanted to have many of the Bad Batche’s powers or a clone similar to that of Crosshair…

[on-stained-glass-wings]

Headcanon: The Tangled Mess that is Miquella’s Age

No matter how you parse it, Miquella is brilliant, regardless of physical appearance. Despite being trapped in the body of an 8-10 year old in canon, he’s mastered marvels of alchemy and engineering unseen in the rest of the Lands Between, even finding a way to enchant unalloyed gold to block the influence of outer gods. Let’s not even talk about growing a new crucible tree with his own blood and then using it to house a sanctuary for the minority groups of the Lands Between.

However, many children can be geniuses, as countless stories about children under 10 graduating from college and law school and such. That doesn’t change the fact that these children, like Miquella, still have the general brain structure of children. This means that Miquella would still struggle with areas of cognition and mentation that only fully develop at an older age. In fact, one of the many reasons he made the decision to metamorphose into an adult--despite the tragic vulnerability of such an act--is not only to ascend to full godhood, but to obtain a fully adult brain that would allow him to more easily comprehend the mechanics of unalloyed gold and his own power. Basically, he hit a metaphorical wall when it came to the limitations of his own brain, and he knew he needed to finish growing up in order to save his sister and the neglected of the Lands Between.

This also means that Miquella is constantly in conflict between being so adult in so many ways and yet so very young in others. He gets tired easily. He still enjoys play. He needs comfort and reassurance more than someone in a proper adult body. He has forced himself to understand social nuances and niceties on a logical level but has trouble grasping them emotionally. However, because he’s so smart and so much like a little adult in speaking and deportment--and because he has so much resting on his shoulders--he’s often forced to play an adult around others--especially when returning to Leyndell for official business and family matters. Pretending to be a complete adult when you’re not is extremely physically, mentally, and emotionally draining, and it’s one of the numerous reasons he and Malenia keep their visits to the capital few and far between.

Malenia is the only person in his life that understands how to balance Miquella’s unique needs and wants without patronizing or belittling him. Her brother is her twin but is simultaneously older and younger than her. He is her equal yet is also vulnerable. He has a wisdom most adults will never achieve but is not an adult himself. He is the most fearsome Empyrean of all, but he needs care and protection in ways that many in the family struggled to grasp when they grew and he remained in stasis. For him she is sister, protector, advisor, companion, best friend, collaborator, and mother, and she is happy to shoulder the burden. There is no one Malenia loves more than Miquella--even her beloved Finlay--and there is no one he loves more than her.

Tldr; Miquella may have achieved alchemical marvels, masterminded a plan to ascend to godhood and expel the outer gods, staved off the scarlet rot in his sister and the Cleanrot Knights, and designed an entire treehouse civilization, but he still gets fussy when he’s tired and likes to play pretend with his sister. Malenia can go from political and strategic discussions with her brother to reading him a bedtime story in the span of a few hours without batting an eyelawsh. He likes to survey their kingdom while riding on her shoulders because he is small and more likely to slip and fall. Miquella has terminal baby disease and Malenia is just happy to be here.

[shoezuki]

piglin techno confusing the fuck out of ranboo hcs

i jus be doin some shit sometimes n then my brain is like ‘hey think a this’ and i been tryin to type this out but my internet is so bad rn i couldnt even Open a new post what the fuck. anywayss. this ran so long. so fucking long

started with ‘i wonder how piglins act’ and now technoblade is doin some shit, ranboo is so confused, and philza is a delighted bystander who is having the time of his life

technoblade is 100% piglin. many people think he’s part human to some degree but hes Completely and Utterly piglin

most assume as much since he doesnt begin to rot in the overworld. but short answer; he’s Built Different

long answer is a blessing of the bloodgod but shhhhhh

techno never corrects anyone or talks about being piglin or Anything. he just doesnt care what other people think and assume. the only one who Knows is phil

phil had first thought it was out of some sort of shame or desire to Hide it but. yeah. no. techno jus doesnt care. build; different

although more Notable piglin traits come to like if he’s close to people

piglins are both social and anti social. kinda. they can be hugely independent, do well without ‘proper’ socialization for a Long while. but they group together for Lifetimes. once piglins find a family or friends and expend Full trust to them. its all or nothing you Cant break them up

how tommy betrayed and turned his back on techno just. its like a physical pain. once he trusted and respected him, the mere Idea of betrayal was nowhere in question. it never occurred to him

philza is now the only person that techno consciously and subconsciously considers him a part of his ‘pack’ (i cant figure out a better term but that one doesnt Fit)

techno never realizes when he acts piglin traits out towards those he trusts. he never does so in company outside of what he considers family. philza notices though.

phil tends to study and research other races and cultures a lot. he’s been around a long while, has met many people of all different backgrounds. he likes knowing and understanding what he can. its just fun too.

it mostly started when he first met techno because he wanted to figure out what the FUCK techno was doing without asking and therefore embarrassing him

but phil knows techno well. and he knows piglins well enough. and he Knows techno doesnt ever seem to be self aware of his more inhuman habits

but Phil knows. and he Notices when techno starts to consider ranboo a part of the pack

First, it’s gifts.

surprisingly, its ranboo giving techno the axe first

he wasnt there to see it. but phil might as well have been present, considering how Horrifically in depth techno ‘ranted’ to him bout it

but techno reciprocates it and Then he really starts to notice more and more

first, it was giving the enchanted apple to ranboo. sure it Technically had been swiped by techno out from under ranboo but it was still Something. techno wasnt one to give up valuables easily

then techno starts ‘complaining’ about ranboos living area. and his eating habits. phil looks away when techno smuggles golden carrots into ranboo’s shack 

eventually technoblade is crafting ranboo a cloak to match their own and he’s freaking out about ranboo’s height and his dimensions and how much cloth he’ll need but he refuses to ask ranboo and phil is holding his head in his hands

(phil forces techno to gift him the cloak in person rather than stash it under his pillow and run like he’d planned. techno bitched about it but after ranboo practically lit up, burying himself in the cloak and thanking techno so hard his throat mustve hurt, techno was so practically purring the rest of the day)

after gifts, its noises. 

techno is seemingly silent. he doesnt speak up much, moves so quietly people tend to jump when he appears. 

in reality, he talks to himself constantly. either when alone or when in phil’s company. philza knows that aspect is the ‘voices’, and also just technoblade’s tendency to fill the silence and wonder his own thoughts aloud

but the snorts, squeels, grumbles, and other sounds he makes without realizing are some phil knows are piglin

its often guttural, a noise he makes in the back of his throat that rumbles and reverberates through his bones. 

itd sound terrifying to anyone, but after years of techno trilling deep when phil enters a room, when he returns from some sort of journey, when he says hello or makes his presence known in anyway, phil realized its more like a greeting. excitement to see him. it became something sweet

long story short ranboo nearly jumped so high his head went through the ceiling when he’d first walked into the home, said hello, and some gruff purr sounded from the techno’s chest

theyd both jumped so hard, stared at each other as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the other 

phil was physically pained as he held back his laughter to the point he was crying. that changed the subject to him quickly

it didnt happen again for a while, but phil didnt say anything and just watched. it was too entertaining

techno would make his small squeals between breaths when he remembered something, muttered to himself, snorted and huffed even as ranboo was around

ranboo got used to it. he stopped jumping or even looking confused when techno trilled some sort of deep purr when ranboo would join them for dinner

lastly, techno was tactile

or, as tactile as he could be. techno wasnt touchy even on a great day. he was selective, reserved, would lean into phil or loop an arm over his shoulders but would never say anything about it

phil didnt question it and would just pat techno on the arm without saying a word

but. sometimes. when phil would be gone for a long time, techno would rest the entire weight of his head on phil’s shoulder, practically encapturing him, rumbling and grumbling so harsh it shook phil’s whole body

phil still wasnt certain on this one. he couldnt find much in the way of what it meant. piglin’s tended to stay with their own, and they never reunited after long periods of time because they never would dare to separate for long

 he was kind of guessing here, but the way techno would drop his shoulders and practically melt made phil think he was just missing him and wanted to confirm phil’s presence. 

it wasnt like he complained. it was sweet

ranboo had been gone a while. he was vague on why, or where. phil had a suspicion or two but ranboo kept a lot of secrets

neither techno or phil pried too far, but phil could tell it was disconcerting to techno. he was tense and kept himself almost deathly busy for two weeks

(piglin rarely if ever kept secrets from one another, phil had read once. omitting a few things here and there, maybe. but lying or deception was out of the question)

phil hadn’t been there when ranboo returned. he’d been gathering firewood after techno was insistent they completely top up all of ranboo’s stores

he’d heard the muffled growls techno made as he walked towards ranboos shack, before even seeing him. 

when phil found them techno had ranboo nearly completely obscured in his cape, and definitely he’d have been out of sight if he was any shorter. 

techno’s head was lofted heavy in the crook of ranboo’s neck, forcing ranboo to hunch with arms wrapped tight around ranboo. his arms were pinned. 

ranboo caught his eyes, looking so scattered and tired and confused and maybe even terrified. he might have spoken or maybe he just mouthed ‘help me’ but the gruff purr-like sound techno made was too loud to hear him anyways

philza shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing

later that night ranboo asked phil if techno was going to kill him. phil wanted to scream

even later then, techno had admitted to phil that, yeah, okay, maybe ranboo was growing on him. phil had never felt so violent

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Dragons’ Biggest Treasure

Yandere dragon shifter erasermic x reader

Fantasy AU

Here’s a long one for you guys! (10k) FINALLY WROTE A FIC AGAIN! YAY!(hahaha I’m so exhausted)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic fights and scenes, multiple character deaths (not EraserMic or reader), harm towards reader (again, not by EraserMic. Well, mostly), burn mentions (with dragons it’s gonna happen), and a handful of times about eardrums bursting (the harm towards reader by EraserMic). As well as dragon abuse. This does have much darker stuff than I usually write. Also a slow start for the yandere stuff. Pretty happy with the details in it. Hope you guys like it!

dragonerasermicdragonerasermicdragonerasermicdragon- *gets smacked*

These two as yandere dragons will now forever rot in my head. Hng, why have I not thought of it sooner!? Just THINKING of them as yandere dragons makes brain go brrr. Obviously going to write them as yandere dragon shifters again at some point. More than once too.

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I’m close to the entrance gates to the kingdom ruled by a man that calls himself All For One. No one knows his real name. He’s a sick bastard that no one wants to be around, but no one can do anything since he’s a lot smarter than he looks with that damn mask over his head. My job by him is to heal dragons after their fights he forces them into, like the most recent one who is incredibly injured in front of me. He likes them by the entrance to torture them with the taste of freedom they will never get from the enchanted chains wrapped all over them. 

While using my natural healing abilities that are actually a pretty rare thing, there is a commotion over towards the gates. The large metal doors open to reveal many men on horses and even a few on their feet holding ropes, pulling something large behind them. I sadly already know what’s being brought in. A saddened sigh escapes me at the sight of two new dragons that are heavily wounded being dragged in through the gates at the end of the ropes. More dragons that are bound to reach their unfortunate fate until they die. 

Looking a bit closer, there are arrows sticking out of the two of them, and blood trailing on the ground. Both of their bodies are black, but one has everything black but a grey underbelly. Instead of spines, it has a feather-like long mane that is also black. The skin on their wings matches the grey of their underbelly. It’s impossible to know the eye color since they’re asleep for the moment. 

The other quite possibly has the largest yellow spines I have ever seen. The same with his horns, they’re curved upwards at a slight angle. Their underbelly, as well as their wings match the color of the spines and horns. There are odd scales around their eyes with orange closer to the center, and a white outer rim, almost like it’s wearing sunglasses. 

The dragon I was tending to just curls itself as much as it can away from me after healing it a small amount. I was ordered to only heal them enough for their wounds to not need stitching so they will still be rather weak to even try escaping. Why he would need enchanted chains then I have absolutely no clue. He takes a sick pleasure in his favorite dragons having such an advantage in the arena. 

I lock eyes with Masura who gives me a giant sadistic smile in return. He enjoys hurting dragons way too much. A few have even ended up dying on the way here from wherever he and the others keep finding them. 

“Brought some fresh meat for you to take care of. These two put up an incredible fight. Can’t wait to see what they will do in the arena.” 

He and the others go to the line of chains near me and hook them all over the two dragons, including the specially created muzzle. Specially created by it having holes so they can dip their snout in the trough of water and get it in that way, and fire can’t get through. Feeding is still a bit of a problem though. Especially since I’m stuck being in charge of that as well. So many times being bitten or burned from having to remove it for that time. 

I gently rub the scarred burn on my right forearm from a problem with an incredibly feisty and almost explosive yellow dragon before. Miraculously, he was the first and only dragon to escape alive. Then again, it was the turn of a different caretaker that night who ended up sentenced to death for it. 

They quickly leave to let me tend to the injured duo. I sigh and quickly finish up the one in front of me with a rather large wound on its right hind leg. The bucket of healing water I enchanted helped the wound close up to a point. It can sadly easily be ripped open, which it obviously will tomorrow in its next fight. I would love nothing more than to be able to heal them better than I have to. There are serious consequences if it’s found out I did though. Emi was proof of that. Despite her joking personality, she really cared for the dragons. That was her downfall when a dragon was healed too much and almost overpowered one of All For One’s most prided dragons. Can’t remember which, but I’m pretty sure it was the female dragon named “Toga”. She- no. Don’t think about Emi’s final screams of pain. 

I scan over the two dragons to see who is worse off. By far it seems to be the black one with the mane instead of spines. The most concerning is the arrow that seems to be in one of its lungs. It’s going to die if I don’t do something. I don’t want it to die so soon. Well, I do, yet I don’t. Do just so they don’t have to suffer fighting in battles, but don’t since they have such a long life to live yet. I just wish they’d be able to really be free after being caught. 

Damn it, I might get into so much trouble for this… 

A bright green glow comes from my hands as I wrap one around the arrow and one on its underside right next to the arrow. A quick and firm tug is able to get it out. I quickly enhance my healing power further to fully heal this one wound. 

Not even a scar is left behind. Hopefully, they forgot the arrow was around there when they brought the dragons. I lean on the wall to steel my groundings from being exhausted from it. Ugh, it’s been too long since I’ve done that. My body is no longer used to my own powers. How sad. I’m the only one known for being born with such power. Emi was gifted it by enchantment by All For One. How he has the power to do that no one wants to know. We all just know he does, and he gets whatever he wants since no one can stop him. 

After collecting myself for a moment, I scan the rest of their injuries and find out both of them are male. The maned one has more slashes on him than arrows, but the other has an incredible amount of arrows. Luckily, none of them are in vital places though. 

The already reddened bucket shows it doesn’t have much more healing capabilities. I’m going to have to get a new one for healing. As long as it’s clear, the water covers the rag in a way it can close wounds. It’s an odd thing that somehow works and helps the healer keep more of their energy. 

I decide to leave for a minute and refill the bucket. After dumping out the blood water, I refill it from the rather clean river that runs through this place. Using my healing ability, I stick my hand in the fresh freezing water and stir it around to leave a green glow for a moment. It will quickly warm up in this rather hot weather. 

I go towards the two again to finish up their wounds. What surprises me is both have already woken up and are glaring at me greatly upon entrance. The maned one has the most piercing steel-white-like eyes I’ve ever seen. The other has bright green with an odd circle swirl in them I’ve never seen before. Have to say they almost seem a bit hypnotic. 

The wonder doesn’t last long though as the green-eyed one lets out a noise that greatly hurts my ears. With that sound and this close proximity, my eardrums more likely than not just burst with the severe pain that came with it. A few tears threaten to escape with a pain I’m not used to.

The mask wasn’t made for dragons with a sound ability! We’ve never had one of these! Why didn’t Masura warn me!? Or more importantly, how wasn’t he heard before being dragged here with how loud he is!?

With my hands instinctively on my ears to try preventing it from bursting my eardrums again though it would be useless, All For One enters right after. Out of nowhere he summons another enchanted chain that wraps around his snout, preventing him from doing the same… Screaming? Shouting? Whatever that ability is to be used again. 

He waits for a minute for me to heal my eardrums before attempting to speak to me. 

I nearly start shaking as his head turns towards the non-wound area on the maned one. Masura must have informed him or slipped up talking about it. 

Quick, I have to save my own skin! “I had to remove the arrow and fully heal it, otherwise it would have died from the arrow puncturing its lung, as you most likely knew already. I understand that’s no worry for you, but it would have been rather annoying if he died before being in even one fight to watch, right?” Oh please tell me that works! 

A dead silence looms for a second before All For One turns towards me and gives me a curt nod. I almost heaved a sigh of relief. Almost being the key word. I held it in to make sure it wouldn’t annoy him. Probably wouldn’t, but it’s safer to not take a chance. 

He creates another muzzle that’s more fitting for this dragon. He removes the chain around the snout and puts it on before he can get snapped at, or possibly screamed at? By said dragon. The belt part is wrapped rather tightly around his snout, making it look impossible for him to even move his jaw. At least the other has a bit of loose room for it to open ever so slightly so it doesn’t become stiff. That one is going to be a lot harder to take off for feeding them.

As if All For One could read my thoughts, which is terrifying to think, he glances at me. "You have a healing ability. If it screams with the muzzle removed, heal yourself. Don’t disappoint me." He then walks off. Probably to his dragons that he treats like gods to keep them loyal to him. Even one of them being obsessed with blood getting a human a week to feast upon. Usually, it’s prisoners that have tried to kill All For One or “dragon liberators” that caught wind of how he treats most of the dragons and tried to free them. Obviously with no succession. 

I let out the unknown breath being held. Man, he’s terrifying and can suffocate someone by just his presence alone. The maned one looked almost worried at the other one while he almost seemed to be panicking with the tight muzzle around his snout. Can’t blame him. Imagine being in something similar. I’d be scared too. 

His glance shifted from the still-panicking dragon towards me, glaring ten times worse than before. I sigh. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want you two to be here anymore than you do.” Can dragons even understand human speech? The explosive one that burned me before almost seemed like he did, but maybe it was just my imagination. The other turns towards me and tries to scream, or whatever it is again with no succession. Makes me wonder if he hasn’t had a similar experience somehow in the past. Ugh, thinking of that just makes me feel worse. Finally free only to be dragged back to somewhere that will probably be worse. 

Saying “probably” because there are no branding marks or dents in their wrists from ropes that are usually on dragons from other places.

They’re probably already going to be fighting in the arena tomorrow. Thinking about that reminds me of how exhausted I am from healing the maned one. It’s going to be good for them to get names tomorrow in the arena. Already tired of trying to think of what to call them separately. 

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I was right. Miraculously, All For One wanted it to be the last fight of the day involving those two. He wants me to be there to take off the loud one’s muzzle for every fight now and in the future. Starting to hate my healing ability now. 

The chains are still wrapped around the two, and they’re led into different stalls for the arena. Of course, I was left alone with the loud one. Don’t know how that could POSSIBLY go wrong. Note the sarcasm. At least All For One was able to make it where the chains are held on the sturdy walls until he can let them leave. His sound should be plenty enough signal for All For One to release him. 

He looks at me as I reach up to take the muzzle off. He stays quiet for a moment once it’s off, moving his more than likely stiff jaw around. There’s already a slight dent around his snout and jaw. 

I shake my head disappointedly. “This is beyond fucking inhumane.” Leaving him waiting, my body goes towards the doors in front of him and opens them. They lead into the arena, which has a net high up in the air so dragons can’t fly away. Not like they could anyway with how fast All For One can summon chains to drag them to the ground. 

The peace wasn’t kept long though as he uses his ability again. The chains snapped free off of him and he immediately charged out into the arena, where the other already was. Wait, he’s having double dragon fights? That’s new. He’s never done that before. On the other side of the arena, The wounded one from yesterday and a very feisty solid white one were on the other side. The white one looked like it was too eager to try to kill. The two closer to me were more on edge and almost seem like they really don’t want to fight the other two. 

They didn’t get the chance to reject though as the white one immediately lunges towards them. They separate and dodge out of the way of it. It keeps snapping and blowing ice towards the maned one. He slams his front claws on the snout of it to prevent the ice from freezing him or the other. He screams at the ice dragon. It’s not as loud as it was when he yelled at me yesterday. 

It’s almost as if… They’re more humane? This doesn’t make sense. Dragons are usually down to fight to the death, even when not healed much. At least, that’s what seemed to be until these two. 

I look towards the other one who doesn’t seem to want to fight, but it knows as well as I this fight will go on until at least one dies. 

As the two new dragons kept easily dodging and not striking too hard back, the crowd watching are not too happy with the lack of injuries. Some booing, and others even attempting to throw their held items like food at the dragons. The loud one snaps and uses his ability towards the crowd, almost or possibly even louder than yesterday. At least that shut them up. 

I lean against the right door and snicker. “Serves them right.” For a quick second, the loud one turns his head towards me. There’s no way he could have heard me, right? Especially with that ability. Or maybe his body was born with being able to stand it? Super hearing yet super loud yelling doesn’t make sense to have though. Dragons are incredibly strange in the ways their bodies work. It’s also quite possible to just be thinking too much. 

Fuck it, don’t think too much about that. 

The wounded one from yesterday half-heartedly swipes at the maned one.  Even he seems to notice the odd behavior of the wounded dragon. Then again, three out of the four are acting a way I’ve never seen before. I look up towards the “throne” All For One has. He’s shaking his head and points towards the other side of the arena. The male with glasses sitting next to him nods and lifts one of the levers next to him. 

Oh no. Not already. 

Two familiar dragons exit the cell they were comfortably kept in. They’re not his top ones, but still get the job done in killing dragons when given the chance. He calls them Spinner and… I think the other was Moon something if remembered correctly. He’s not used as often as others, so his name isn’t exactly remembered. Calling him Moon is enough for me. 

The crowd goes wild for the two. They know things get messy when Moon gets let out because of his freakish weird teeth ability. And… How he eats parts of dragons he kills. 

In speaking of killing, immediately those two go for the kill. The wounded one didn’t stand a chance and had its neck snapped instantly by Spinner. Moon something lashes its teeth out and almost punctures the ice dragon. 

Just watching the moon one move is quite unnerving. He’s so insanely fast and agile. Still wondering why he’s basically bound in a way. Then again, he’s at least twice as unhinged as Toga. I fear how fast he might be if he wasn’t bound. 

In the blink of an eye, these two were much more defensive as the teeth blades went to strike them again. The ice dragon stopped going for them, and tries going after Moon Something. Ugh, what was that something? MoonFresh? No. MoonFlesh? I don’t think so. 

He makes his teeth curve like a hook and tries again towards the ice dragon. It dodges again. Wait, hook… Fishing… MoonFish! That’s what it was! 

I feel like slapping myself stupid for forgetting that. 

Spinner jumps onto the wall and tries to use that to sneak up on the loud one. It doesn’t work as he was focused on Spinner as soon as the two new ones entered. He moves out of the way and instead of screaming, screeches this time. It’s much higher and worse than any sound he’s made yet. The maned one doesn’t even flinch, but the other three definitely do. Spinner was right beside the loud one. He recoils in obvious pain and stands there shaking his head. 

It hurt my ears as well, but this time it didn’t make them burst, surprisingly. I don’t think the same could be said for Spinner. They have internal ears, so I’m not exactly sure if they burst, or whatever it is their species’ ears do. 

I look up to see All For One leaning a bit forward in his chair, now taking slight interest. Moonfish recovers incredibly quickly and lunges his teeth again. This time it punctures right through the ice dragon’s chest as they did a final ice breath. At the same time, a few land on the other two, causing some decently deep cuts. The ice breath freezes the rest of MoonFish’s body. 

The maned one wastes no time in swiping his tail towards the frozen body, shattering it upon impact. 

The crowd goes eerily quiet. Looking at All For One, he remains indifferent. It’s too hard to tell his emotions about what just happened. Spinner tries again to sneak behind the two and breathe his fire. The two seem so focused on the death of three dragons in one fight. Are they not used to it? 

They still haven’t noticed Spinner on the wall. At least I thought. The loud one instantly turns and rears onto his back legs and slams Spinner onto the ground with an almost punch-like move of his right talon. 

Before anything can be done, these two are chained again. The loud one being yanked off of Spinner, who instantly retreats back towards the open gate he came from. I’m honestly a little disappointed he wasn’t finished off as well. 

I sigh and go towards the stalls again, preparing to heal them. An already created healing bucket sitting in the same spot I used for them yesterday. 

It doesn’t take long for the two to be dragged in again by Masura and the bunch of… well, meatheads to say the least. I swear none of them even think half the time about anything. The two are definitely fighting and struggling with the men. 

The loud one goes to use his ability again. “Pipe down you overgrown lizard!” Masura punches the dragon in the jaw as hard as he can. It makes a sickening “crack” noise. 

The maned one gets pissed and starts snapping at him as well. The only reason I can think of why he’d do that is he knows the other one. Why didn’t I make the connection sooner? These two must know each other! 

Masura rolls his eye at them. So glad some good dragons before were able to take out one of his eyes. If only they could have taken out both. The chains get put where they were before, making the two unable to move much again. 

I’d put the muzzle on the loud one, but with his now broken or dislocated jaw it wouldn’t be the best and needs to be healed first. I can tell Masura is itching to punch one of them again. 

He stands there and smirks with his arms crossed as I dip the rag into the bucket. The loud one’s jaw is first. That’s now by far the most concerning injury. Looking a bit closer, it is definitely dislocated. I shake my head in disapproval at Masura while remaining eye contact with the dragon. It almost feels like he’s able to read me. “Did you seriously have to dislocate his jaw?” 

“Heh, the damn thing deserved it for trying to use their voice at me,” I roll my eyes at his comment. Of fucking course he’d try to use his ability. We kidnapped, or more like dragonnapped him and are forcing him to fight other dragons. I’d use anything I could too. “Not everyone has a goody-perfect healing thing like you either,” he continued. 

I shrug, then gently try to grab his lower jaw to try setting it back in place. “I’d just have to heal your sorry ass.” 

“Tch, my sorry ass? You’re the one who always seems to get all buddy-buddy with dragons. You heal them too gently. You’re the one with a sorry ass.” 

Cue my sarcastic mode. “Oh, I’m sorry for calling you a sorry ass. I must so clearly be the worst one since I’d rather not have dragons fight me all the time like you,” There was another sickening “crack” as its jaw was put back into place. The dragon hisses in obvious pain. I bring up the rag to the side of his jaw to try quickly relieving it. “Easy bud,” I try to whisper to make Masura not hear. Thankfully he didn’t seem to since he didn’t comment on it.  “We can’t all think with our muscles rather than with our brains. Nothing would get done right,” I continue, but this time out loud. The loud dragon lets out a snort. 

His footsteps go away, indicating he left. Probably upset. Good. I roll my eyes at him as I look over the dragon’s jaw. Good as new. Good thing about that is there’s not really any way to tell if I healed it all the way or not. Broken or dislocated bones are crazy enough easier and faster to heal than wounds. How that works with leaving the layer right under cut open and easily able to tear open again, but heals bone instantly is beyond me. 

Looking around and closing any other wounds, I then go to the maned one. He nips at me to try getting my hands away. It’s far more gentle and human-like than the others that have tried to bite me before. Almost like he’s telling me he doesn’t want to be healed by human hands. Understandable. 

… wait a minute. Bite, or opening jaw… I look towards the loud one and flinch, preparing for his voice. Of course I can heal, but it still hurts. My shoulders even tense upwards. It never comes. Looking at him, he still just looks at me. 

Well, now I’m in a dilemma. Do I put on the muzzle now, and possibly break this trust or whatever he seems to somehow already be giving me, or leave it off and possibly get yelled at later by him, or even someone coming in to see him without his muzzle? 

Ugh, I might regret this. Might as well risk it for now. I can just lie that it was forgotten to be put on if someone asks about it. Turning back to this one, I heal him anyways. He makes a slight hissing fuss but accepts it after a moment. After finishing, I leave to get them some raw meat to eat. Sadly, the biggest thing available is some moderately sized fish. They don’t seem like river or ocean dragons, so chunks of deer will have to do. It gets placed down not too far from them. They look at me warily for a bit. Maybe they don’t want me to watch them eat? It’s time for me to leave anyway. 

Ugh, but the muzzles… Hopefully, they’ll eat when I’m away for a bit. I have a stupid idea I’ve never done before. Sleeping beside the dragons. Walking out lets me give that a little more thought. At least one night to see how they do couldn’t hurt. But first, there is a need to talk to All For One about their names.

I enter the area he usually is with his prized dragons. Most are pretty indifferent to me, except for Toga who has tried to stab me more than once with her blade-like tail. 

I stand behind him awkwardly while he pats Spinner’s right shoulder. “They’re both… Interesting to say the least. A shame for Moonfish, but the ones tomorrow will be entertaining as well. Let’s see if they can handle Toga and Dabi.” Dread slightly seeps into me. He’s already making them face all his most dangerous ones? 

“What about their names if you decide to manipulate them after and keep them as pawns?” 

He shakes his head. “I have enough pawns. The audience has decided on Shatter for the loud one, and Lion for the other..” 

… What? “Lion?” 

“Must be the hair on it. I don’t name the things. The people do. The one thing they do have control over.” Which is beyond sad. Fucking tyrant. 

I nod in reply. “Sounds good.” After that, I leave before he could say or do anything else. The less around him the better, even if he hasn’t done anything negative towards me yet.  

Upon entering the same place again, they did eventually eat the meat while I was gone. That’s good. There’s an open area a bit to the left and away from the dragons. I plan on laying there for the night. It’s only to make sure no one comes in and sees them without their muzzles. No one but me knows a feeding schedule so it’s a good lie saying they were just fed. I’ve decided to think they can understand human speech, even if they don’t. They’re more pleasant to talk to than most people around. 

“All right you two, I normally don’t do this, but I’ll be sleeping in here a bit away from the both of you for a few nights. My back won’t appreciate it, but I sure hope you two do. It’s only because I’d rather not put those muzzles back on,” I look at the still slightly dented skin of Shatter. Damn, and that was only for like what? Half a day of him wearing it? “But if someone comes in, I will have to temporarily put them back on. Please don’t fight it too much.” 

Shatter tilts his head in an almost cute type of way. Well, that’s certainly unique. I go over to the corner and sit down against the wall. Leaning slightly back so my back fully touches it, and tilt my head up. My ass won’t be too happy tomorrow either. Maybe bringing my pillow for tomorrow night or something will help. 

---------------------------------------------------------

I am rudely woken up by something sharp stabbing my foot. Looking down, it’s a feisty Bombay kitten biting and clawing at it. Where did it come from? Another thing noticed is my body is now fully laying sideways on the ground. “Ouch! Hey there you little feisty thing.” I go to grab it, and it notices. It then takes off towards the dragons, making my heart sink thinking it’s about to become a tiny snack for one of them. Strange enough, neither do. Lion just looks at it in an almost caring way. Shatter looks at Lion in a way I can’t fully understand. 

Looking outside, the sun is just starting to fully show. That means in just a few hours the arena fights will begin again. Knowing All For One, he’s going to save these two for last again. Turning back to the two, Lion has one of his claws gently extended for the kitten to play with. That is once again extremely odd behavior for a dragon. Maybe everything known about them is wrong? 

“Be careful today. I was informed of who you two will be fighting. They’re much more dangerous than the other two yesterday. One has fire hot enough to burn scales off dragons. The other is agile and very good at injuring.” 

They just look at me. 

A few fights have already passed, and my anxiety increases for the two. I’ve already had to heal the other dragons that fought today. Except for the ones that died. Getting really tired of seeing so many die for no cause other than the sick entertainment of humans. 

The muzzles were already temporarily put back on the two. Shatter’s is rather loose, just to help him not freak out again, and he obviously doesn’t deserve something like that. Luckily once again, I’m the only one taking care of Shatter. He doesn’t scream at me as I quickly take it off. I risk it and pat his shoulder. “Good luck out there. You’re going to need it. He doesn’t bite me! Man, this is crazy.

Again, the gate opens and his chains come off of him. Lion bolts out of the stall next to us, and glares inside it, probably involving Masura. 

Straight to the chase, Toga and Dabi are released from their places. Dabi almost gets a grin on his face from his teeth being shown in what seems to be a smile. Or maybe even a sneer with how stuck up he seems to be. Toga immediately poises her sharp tail above her. 

It feels like everyone holds their breath for a second as the four stand still in the arena. Toga is the first to charge for Shatter. He immediately jumps out of the way, and tries to swing his tail towards her legs to make her fall off balance. She jumps over his tail and stabs it in the process. She then licks the blood off of the blade of her tail. 

Shit! I forgot to warn about her transformation! The one thing though it could still be easy to tell which is the real shatter from his ability, and he wouldn’t attack Lion. I don’t think All For One knows they care about each other. Wait… But if she fights Shatter in his form and Lion tries to help… Oh no. 

Dabi starts using his fire towards Lion. It slightly grazes him before he can get out of the way. He lets out a growl in slight pain as smoke comes from some of his scales. Shatter goes to use his ability at Dabi, but stops abruptly as Toga transforms into him. She goes to attack him again. She might remember his ability from listening and possibly watching yesterday. They’re able to watch for an even better chance at winning. 

She swings her claws at his throat, making him go to the defensive and try to back away. 

While that is going on, Lion is too busy being focused on Dabi’s fire, and constantly jumping from it. It gets to the point Lion is facing me, and the back of Dabi is visible. He glares at Dabi, and I see his eyes turn red. Why the FUCK are these two dragons so much stranger than most!? What is up with his eyes changing color!? Dabi goes to use his fire, but… It doesn’t come out? 

… !!! A cancellation ability!? 

Now that seems to catch the attention of everyone, especially All For One. He leans a bit forward in his chair. I can’t see Dabi’s face, but I bet it’s one of surprise judging by his tensed body. He freezes for a moment, giving Lion the chance to strike first. He’s able to manage a pretty deep slash onto Dabi’s side when he tries to move away. One quick glance shows Lion’s eyes are back to his steel or whitish color. He only manages another rather deep slash to Dabi’s shoulder. He tries to use his fire again, and succeeds. With the close range I worry that Lion was burned to a crisp immediately. 

He glares again to cancel the fire again before it can do serious damage to him. Ah, so there is a timer-like thing for it. He slams his tail into Dabi, knocking him towards his back. He’s able to manage another slash onto Dabi’s exposed stomach. It’s easy to tell Dabi is slightly panicking, not used to never being hit so much before. Probably the cancellation as well. 

Presumably Toga notices Dabi having a hard time, meanwhile, she’s giving Shatter a surprisingly hard time, and a lot of injuries. She charges towards him still as Shatter and manages to get a clean deep swipe to his right eye. My heart sinks to my stomach. 

Lion hardly gives it a chance though since he notices Dabi trying to get back up. He claws again at Dabi, striking his chest. There’s now a good pool of blood being trailed onto the ground from all Dabi’s wounds. Now that Shatter has a bit of freedom, he’s able to scream. Just like yesterday, it’s much more of a screech than a scream. Again like before, Dabi and Toga flinch in pain at the sound. It gives Lion the chance to injure the Shatter that attacked him, making the transformation wear off. 

Before anything else can be done, chain envelops the two again, allowing Dabi and Toga to get away freely. Of course the coward would do this when his precious pawns are losing. “Cheating bastard.” I mumble with obvious frustration. Shatter looks towards me again. 

That’s the least of my concern now though. Lion’s eye needs to be looked at ASAP. I go back to their stalls to prepare for their return. 

Again, it doesn’t take long. Neither are wearing muzzles, but Shatter doesn’t scream, possibly in fear of his jaw being dislocated again. Masura almost seems disappointed when he and the others drag them in. It was almost too much to wait for all of them to leave before rushing towards the two dragons, especially Lion.

When reaching up for his head, I almost yank it down to my eye level to see the damage to his eye. They almost seem surprised by my concern. Thankfully, his eye was missed, just barely. My foot nervously taps onto the ground for a second while in thought. It’s still a really deep wound, but fully healing it would raise suspicion, and All For One already isn’t too happy with these two defeating so many of his favorites. Not many have been able to beat Dabi and Toga. My hand gets its familiar glow and comes into contact with the wound. I don’t heal it all the way. There’s a giant scar left instead. They gave me a look. “I’m sorry. I really badly want to heal it fully, but I don’t want to die by healing you guys too much like the last person did,” I look towards the burned scales as well. “Those can’t be fully healed either. Some reason my healing doesn’t really work on burns.” 

Their eyes almost seem to widen. 

Shatter looks towards the entrance instead a moment later and hisses. I rush for the muzzles. Obviously, they’re really resilient to them being put on. 

I get Shatter’s on just in time for All For One to enter. He goes right up to Lion. “A canceling ability. Simply magnificent. I wonder, how many can he cancel at once? Guess tomorrow we will see,” He almost seems to glare at Shatter. “Although I do not trust that one to not get in the way. Tomorrow will be just Lion, or now given the name Suppress.”

He goes to touch the now named “Suppress”, but he smacks his head against All For One’s hand, making him pull it away. “Ah, still got good fight as well. Good. Tomorrow will be interesting.”

“Uh, S-sir? If I may ask, what is your plan for him tomorrow?” Damn it, why did I have to stutter? 

He turns his masked head towards me. I can almost FEEL his grinning under the thing. “He’s going to fight Tomura as well tomorrow.” 

I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. There’s no way he can fight Dabi, Toga, AND Tomura at the same time without being killed! 

He doesn’t say anything else as he turns and leaves. I quickly take their muzzles back off. There’s nothing that can be done. I can only hope he’s strong enough to survive. No dragon has survived Tomura though. I sigh heavily and look at Suppress. “I hope you can handle a lot at once. If I’m right, you might be against three tomorrow. Be as ruthless as you can. They won't be holding back.” 

I leave and grab food for them again. This time, they eat it with me there. I sit in the same spot as before. 

-------------------------------------

The next day comes too soon. This time I’m woken up to the sun shining right on my face. That means it’s much later than yesterday. I go to sit up, and nearly groan in stiffness. Yep, here comes the pain and stiffness of laying on the floor. The two of them are staring at me while growling, or probably talking to each other. Well that’s a little weird. 

I get up lean backwards, giving my back a good crack. It felt satisfying and did relieve the tiniest bit of discomfort. Using my healing, it doesn’t take long to feel fully normal again. I look at the giant scar still under Suppress’ eye. Pity courses through me at it. Well, at least she didn’t strike slightly higher, permanently losing his sight. Judging that Suppressor might be taken soon for a final fight today, I get up and grab the muzzles yet again. I’m so sick of even seeing these damn things. Suppressor’s gets put on properly, but I keep Shatter’s a bit loose again. He almost seems appreciative of it. “When they come to take you, save your energy for the fight. You’re going to need everything you can get.” 

They were put on just in time too since Masura comes in with a few others to take Suppress. “Already?” I question. 

“Yeah, he wants this to be the only fight today. He couldn’t wait to see what this thing is made of.” 

This “thing” is a he, you overdeveloped rotten cabbage. 

The dragon must have been able to understand me since he doesn’t fight them that strongly as they drag him out by the chains. I sigh and look towards Shatter. “I hope he’s strong. He’s going to need everything he can get.” 

I follow Masura into the stall. It’s odd being in a different one for once, and I’m horrified with how roughly they throw him around with the chains. I go up front and take off his muzzle yet again, allowing him to snap at the people. I smirk as he gets dangerously close to his teeth meeting the flesh of one of the men close to me on my left. He shrieks and stumbles far away. 

He then gets shoved forward out of the stall into the arena. Masura and the others quickly leave, probably to the stands to get a better view of the fight higher up. 

It’s dead silent in the stands. “Now, I know there are usually a few every day, but this is a chance that can’t be taken up. Today is a one fight only, and three against one. Now, that usually doesn’t happen with the lack of action that would normally cause, but this dragon has an incredibly special ability I want to see how they fare on their own,” three separate gates open, revealing what I feared. He’s given them a higher advantage by not all being together to have their abilities eliminated. Now, Toga’s not really a problem since Suppress doesn’t have an ally, but she’s still incredibly agile and dangerous. 

Tomura is probably one of the oddest dragons. His scales look incredibly dry, despite not exactly being a desert dragon. Bright red eyes glowing with hate, and talons of dead dragons latched onto his body. Don’t know why they’re there, but it’s still such a sickening thing to see. 

Dabi looks good as before with no slash wounds to be seen. Of course the fucker is willing to fully heal his dragons whenever they’re injured. 

Toga is in front, Dabi on Suppress’ left, and Tomura on his right. There was an eerie stillness for a moment, almost like they're all waiting for something. That something was Tomura. He hissed something, and they all lunged for him. He manages to dodge all three. Tomura is trying to get a grip on him for disintegration, or decay, or whatever terrifying thing it is he does. Suppress is trying to keep an eye on him and ducks down in time to avoid Dabi’s fire. Toga tries to stab him with her tail while he’s lowered against Dabi’s fire and watching Tomura.  

Turns out he was somehow also able to keep watch of Toga. He brings his tail in front of him and pushes Toga up without her realizing. Dabi’s fire hits her for a moment, making her let out a sound that makes Dabi stop. Even from here smoke is coming off of her back. 

She jumps out of the way for Dabi to continue. He uses his ability to stop Dabi from using his hot fire. Since he’s so distracted by keeping his sight on Dabi, and ends up focusing more on Toga’s location. Tomura is able to get up on him again. He manages to grab Suppress' right arm. It’s not for long as he seems to notice immediately what the dragon’s ability does. It stops decaying as he glares at Tomura instead. 

Dabi notices and tries to use his fire again. It works. So his ability must need to keep his eyes in contact with a dragon to stop their ability. Chunks of his arm fall away, leaving his arm to start bleeding rather heavily. Suppress flinches is obvious pain. He’s able to keep a level head and use Tomura’s grip on him to pull him in front in the path of Dabi’s fire. Really clever using a long-range foe’s ability to harm its allies. 

Dabi doesn’t stop in time, greatly charring Tomura’s already bad scales as well. 

All For One isn’t too happy of his favorite pawn being injured so quickly already. Well, it’s obviously his fault for the other two joining in the first place. 

A sick pleasure grows in me at his frustrated stance of tight grip on his chair. Though pity courses through me as well looking at his partially decayed arm. Should have warned him about that. 

Toga manages to ignore the pain of her burned scales and attempts to attack Suppress again. He swipes his tail as hard as he can, making Toga go flying and crash into the wall from her rather small size. Especially compared to the others. The back of her head hit the wall as well, and she slumps to the ground, unmoving. She doesn’t seem to be dead though, her stomach still slightly rising. 

Now All For One seems to be getting angrier. He doesn’t seem to be the only one. Tomura lets out a rather angry growl. Suppress is facing me again, and blinks, though he really didn’t seem to want to. That’s all the two needed to go all-out on him again. 

Tomura tries to grab him again but wasn’t able to. Suppress grabs right above his two front talons to prevent more decay. One thing going for him is he’s much stronger physically, so he’s able to manage quite easily keeping him pinned down. 

With Dabi’s fire consistently being shot at him, he does something his body shows he didn’t really want to do. He tilts his head and leans down, biting into the sides of Tomura’s neck. He slowly continues to bite down harder as Dabi doesn’t cease using his fire at him. Tomura is visually starting to panic at this point.

I think I know his plan, but it probably won’t work. Dabi doesn’t really care about the others but tolerates them for his own enjoyment of the arena. 

Looking at All For One, I freeze. He’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him. I can swear I see his hands shaking from here. Huh, he’s not usually the type to have strong visual emotion besides slight interest. 

Eventually, there was a sickening “crunch”, indicating that Suppress must have bitten into bone. Tomura’s neck slumps to the side, and he can’t seem to pick his head back up. 

All For One had enough as he stood up from his chair for the first time and I can see the chains going for Suppress again. The chains yank Suppress so harshly that he drops Tomura, and ends up being slammed into one of the walls himself. 

My body freezes completely as All For One’s head turns to look directly at me. I’m happy Suppress was able to survive, but now I’m dreading what All For One’s going to do to him. 

I rush back to Shatter since I can tell All For One is about to come in this time. He seems desperate to have the muzzle off again. His eyes almost light up as I enter. “Sorry, I can’t take it off yet. Your friend is in pretty bad shape though and will be coming shortly.” 

I almost waited with bated breath for a good few minutes. This time, instead of Masura and the others, it was All For One himself, easily dragging the dragon along. The chains pull him back by the other and latch back onto the walls. He has chains wrapped around his snout like the other did before. He’s between me and the dragons, and I can see their expressions behind him. Suppress is still flinching in pain from his decayed flesh. 

He turns his head to me. “Kill them both.”

I was in shock. I have never been demanded to kill a dragon, yet alone two before. He won fairly! Even with injuries! He and Shatter deserve to be let free! 

I notice the two dragons tense behind him. 

“I will not repeat myself. They nearly killed my best pawn. Nothing gets to pass my pawn. That will not stand, so they will be killed,” He looks at Shatter’s loosened muzzle. Fuck. “I noticed they seem to be trusting of you, so I’m making you do it. You have one hour,” he turns around and leaves. 

I look at the wounds of his fight from earlier. You know what? Fuck him. If I die, I die. 

“I think you both more than earned your freedom by now. Hell, neither of you should have been here in the first place. Do me a favor and warn the others to not come near here ever again.” Shatter tilts his head at me again as I take off his muzzle and the chains around Suppress' snout.  Here’s to hoping they can understand me. The sword hanging on the wall out of reach of the two dragons should be able to break the chains. 

My first priority is to fully heal that decayed part. The scar under his eye is sadly permanent now though. My hand glows its familiar green and it hovers over the wound. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be fully healed either, but the scar is much smaller than it would have been. I try my best with the burns, but it doesn’t do much. 

The longer my hand hovers right above his scales and heals him, the more drained and tired I feel. It gets to the point my body tries to fall forward. I push my hand onto him to try keeping my balance. “Whew. Not quite… Used to using so much energy. Haha.” His shoulder that I’m leaning against twitches. I take it as my cue to step away and end up leaning against the wall not far behind me to catch my breath. Looking towards Shatter, he’s still in pretty good shape, but the wounds from before can be healed a bit more to make sure they don’t reopen. 

I trudge over to him and do the same, ending up leaning on him like Suppress. This time even more tired though. I can’t rest yet. There’s so little time to get them free yet. I push myself off him and go to grab the sword. With my tired state it’s almost too heavy to be lifted. 

The first thing was their wings with metal being wrapped around them and pulled outwards. I grab the chain closer to him to try preventing it from pulling. The sword gets slammed down as hard as possible, making the chain break. One by one, the others were broken too. Eventually, all were broken off of both. My arm is so sore from lifting the sword so many times, and being drained in the first place. My breath is incredibly ragged. 

After dropping the sword after the final chain, I close my eyes and lean against the wall. It’s hard to stay awake. “There. Now… Get going before someone returns.” 

Both of them stop towards the entrance and look at me. “Go!” I yell at them and point forward. They stay for a moment longer, then bolt out. 

I stay leaned for a few minutes. That was beyond exhausting. Two familiar sets of footsteps enter.

“You damn traitor. I really thought you’d be better than the last. I should kill you now!” 

I look towards the entrance. All For One and Masura. Guess just get it over with then.

All For One stops him with an arm in front of him. “No. They deserve much worse than death for their betrayal.”    

Well shit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Locked in a dark cell for a good week. Hardly any food, and quite possibly the bare minimum of water given for me to stay alive. At least it wasn’t permanent. Almost wish it was with that happens after leaving the cell. After leaving, he gave the others free rein to injure me whenever they pleased. Masura was more than happy to oblige, leaving me with some rather problematic injuries that made me so tired to heal I could barely heal dragons if I tried. Of course, now someone is always watching me when it’s my time to heal the dragons. My job is only partial now though since he wants someone more “loyal” for the job. Hopefully, those two are happy at least. That’s all that matters. 

In speaking of that, today was a day I wasn’t in charge of it. But Masura sure as hell had a lot of fun tossing me around like a ragdoll. Many show pity for me, but they know not to help. I can’t blame them no matter how much it hurts. A younger one with green curly hair looks like he wanted to deck Masura himself. Same with the dual-haired one beside him. Another rather tall one with glasses stops them and uses a chopping motion to tell them something, making them not intervene. They were a bit too far to be heard. My body is too tired today to heal the recent wounds from him as well. Pretty sure my right eye is a black eye from it being stuck partially closed and obviously the pain. 

While looking around to make sure he’s not near me or any of the others for now today, I stumble upon a rather intimidating-looking man. His back is facing me as someone with really long blue hair is talking to him. He just radiates a strong and uncomfortable type of feeling. Never seen them around before. He doesn’t even turn around. “Sorry, sir.” Some reason that seems to catch his attention. The other two, which is a rather pretty woman. Rather long and messy black hair turns around to lock steely-gray-like eyes with mine. 

That scar reminds me too much of the dragon from before. Wasn’t the scar about the same place too? Huh, he must have been too interested in that fight and lacks self-preservation or something. His eyes widen for some reason. He must have been told by others to not even come near the now outcast. 

I don’t even get to blink when he grabs one of my arms to pull me towards him again. My body instinctively flinches and gets prepared to be hit again. It never comes. My eyes open to see him staring at small cuts still bleeding slightly. His sight then immediately goes towards my swollen eye. There’s an odd fury that grows in his eyes the more he sees. Too tired to think what that must be about. I try to pull my arm free from his grip. ‘I’m sorry sir, but could you please let me go? I’m really tired and just want to go home for the day.” 

He doesn’t. If anything, his grip gets slightly tighter from me trying to pull away. Not painfully so, but it’s there. The other turns to look, and her eyes widen a substantial amount. She looks at him. “They the one? They’re not looking so hot.”

“We got what we need. Tell Zashi and the others.” 

She nods and pushes something hidden against her ear. “We found the target.” She says something else too, but my mind is too caught up in the “target” part. 

T-target!? That snaps me to attention. What did All For One tell them? Are they looking for something and he pinned the blame on me that I have it? Did he hire them to make my life more insufferable?  

A set of footsteps comes up rapidly. They must be running as fast as they could. It’s another male. He has incredibly long hair and some rather odd facial hair. He suddenly hugs me. “So glad to have finally found you! The week has been terrible! Sho! We shoulda taken then with us!” 

I don’t know you weirdos. What kind of sick prank is this? I try to push him away. “You must have the wrong person. I don’t know either of you.” He latches on tighter. “C’mon, we’re not dragons now, but you gotta recognize us! Especially Sho’s scar! 

...What? Looking closer, the blond one seems to have small scales poking at his clothing. That… This cannot be possible. I shake my head in disbelief. “There’s no way! Dragon shifters aren’t real!” 

“Oh, we definitely are, dear- what happened!? Why do you have so many injuries!?” 

“That Masura man I’m guessing. Problem child informed me of it not too long ago.” 

Problem child? 

The blond one almost seems to growl. “Don’t regret our decision for today then.”

“Decision?” I question. 

They both grow a rather sadistic smirk. I can’t tell which is more unnerving. The blond’s is bigger and shows more of his teeth, but there’s just something about the black-haired one’s that seems more unnatural.  

“Well, we’ve been lookin’ for ya for about a week now. We were starting to think he did kill you, and we weren’t happy. Besides! A dragon killer like him can’t live anyway. He’s a danger to our kind!” he turns towards the woman. “Give everyone the signal,” He turns towards this ‘“Sho” or whatever he is. “You should take them. Don’t want any more damage to our poor lovely healer, huh?” He smiles at me. 

I’m… still trying to wrap my frazzled mind and body around this. I don’t get to though from the sudden thing of many of the people around suddenly growing rapidly in size, and obtaining dragon qualities. 

It doesn’t even take a minute for them all to be full dragons, and ripped clothes everywhere. As well as the two familiar ones right in front of me. Shatter and Suppress. 

Shatter picks me up and flies up a bit, being careful with his claws. He places me on Suppress’ back. 

Can things please stop for two minutes to let me think!? Again, I don’t get to as Suppress takes off into the air. There’s nothing to really grab onto to not fall off, so I grab his hair. It’s surprisingly soft. Wasn’t expecting that. My hands make the hair wrap around my hands a few times to not have to clench it so tightly. I’d rather not fall to my death. 

He either dosn’t feel me pulling on his hair or doesn’t care. I lean closer to ignore the air whipping by as he speeds around flying. The screaming of the people is also a bit too much. They have nothing to fend themselves since dragons have never attacked this place before. Usually they get caught before they do.  

There’s the familiar screaming or yelling of Shatter in the distance. I look over to see him with multiple other dragons against All For One. He’s gotten a few chained to the ground, but the sheer amount of them that keep using their abilities against him is making it really hard for him to focus. 

A familiar exploding dragon zooms past to fight one of his prized dragons he must have let free to help. They’re not helping much. They can’t. There are too many. Toga tries to stab him with her tail, but the exploding one is relentless. He has a sick smile, almost like he’s enjoying the fight. He almost too quickly manages to pin her to the ground and slams explosion after explosion onto her face. 

Dabi is being managed by an oddly colored dragon that reminds me of the red and white-haired one from earlier. With him fighting Dabi is a green one with an oddly long tongue, and a pink and brown one who somehow can move large buildings to fall onto Dabi, making him constantly jump around to avoid being hit. 

Tomura doesn’t seem to be having much luck either. The two must have informed the others of his ability. He’s against multiple with long-ranged abilities like Shatter. 

Despite all the noise around, I’m getting even more tired with the rocking of his body with the movement of his wings. Same with his oddly warm scales being rather comforting, and hair draping around me like a blanket. Exhaustion overtakes me as the sounds of screaming people, roaring dragons, and crackling fire of houses slowly fades to silence with me drifting off. 

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Not edited to the fullest capability. We die like captains with their sinking ships. Will be doing a part two with better yandere stuff...

….. Eventually…...

[mrandmrsvanserra]

In today’s absolute Elucien brain rot moment I thought of an interesting detail. It may mean nothing but…

For everyone being so certain she will reject Lucien, it’s Az she has actually shown willingness to reject.

How? Where?

He gave her a gift, which she returned when he showed a sign of regret for their almost kiss.

Have we ever, ever seen her return even one of of Lucien’s gifts? Despite her not wanting to be with him, supposedly? No. She doesn’t use them because that would be letting him into her life more than she’s ready for, but she keeps them. Pearl earrings, enchanted gloves. They have not been returned. We never actually even see her return the jacket. But we’ve seen her return what is very clearly a courting type of gift to Az.

We won’t even talk about the regifting and how he thinks very differently about what reward he’ll reap from Gwyn accepting that gift as opposed to Elain accepting it.

Anyways, this isn’t to say A is bad and Lucien isn’t, it’s just an interesting thing I thought of that has literary analysis connotations.

[midnightmoonkiss]

now you got me THINKING:

reader picking the lock to her holding cell for the hell of it, wandering the deck at night and catching deku muttering to himself, compass in one hand, tugging at his lips with the other, to which she helps him using scraps of knowledge she picked up from her snob of a father, learning her father was the the reason for a few of his scars in past battles, tracing them gently and explaining how she hates her life and blah blah bLha my brain rot is REALL

YESS OMFG???? HOLD ON I GOTTA.. GOTTA WRITE THIS..

Kidnapped By A Pirate (Cont.)

Pirate Deku X Fem! Reader

This basically is a continuation of this short fic, only going further into the early-on relationship between Captain Midoriya and you, (Y/N).

Category: fluff I guess?

Word Count: 2.3k

Just To Clarify:

This is a continuation

“You know,” His mellifluous voice startled you, “It’s awfully rude to stare.”

The sentence sliced through the silence of the night like the sharp sword resting upon his jutting hip.

The sea was calm and the moon was full, not a cloud in the sky. Stars shimmered brightly above, milky way weaving through each dot of light.

And here you stood, on a pirate ship.

Gathering your bearings, you inhale sharply through your nose, the salty scent of the sea nearly making you gag,

“It’s awfully rude to kidnap someone and throw them into a dirty old cell with no food or water as well.”

His hearty chuckle made you gulp, the tickling of butterflies has no place in your stomach. Not now. Preferably not ever with him, but most pirates did have this.. salacious charm to them.

“Very true…” He sighed, “Forgive me.”

The fact that you were having this conversation with his back infuriated you.

He didn’t care enough about your escape from your cell in the dead of night, when all his crewmen were asleep, to even pay you full attention.

It was as if he viewed you as the least frightening and threatless thing on this vessel, a harmless, stowaway mouse.

Swallowing the lump of logical fear lodged in your parched throat, you strung together all the courage you had on you with a flimsy string and strode over to him, hands fisting the fabric of your dress.

The pirate was leaning against the railing of his ship, staring down at a dirty compass resting in the palm of his large hand, lip pulled between his thumb and index finger and he studied the spinning of the needle trapped behind cracked glass.

His features from behind became clearer with every cautious step you took, messy green curls pulled into a ponytail, few strings of loose hair framing his chiseled face. He was practically glowing in the light of the moon that shone in front of him. Beautifully dangerous, like a barracuda.

“It’s broken.” You pointed out to him, the captain who wasn’t wearing a hat, an air of finality in your tone.

If he was plotting a course by a broken compass..

You were royally fucked.

You’d be lost at sea.

Would you ever see land again?

The nauseating rocking of the ship had you almost on your knees, praying. As the days went by, your sea legs grew, but you still weren’t used to it. You didn’t want to be used to it.

“It's only broken to those who don’t understand it,” He teased, sparing you a glance before returning his gaze down to the old piece of junk.

He didn’t seem to want to bother with taking you back down to your own personal hell, yet.

That was good enough for you.

You came up here for air, after all.

It was suffocating below deck.. The stench of mildew having made you sick.

Who knew you took fresh air for granted? Even if it was salty.

At least you could see the open sea and how the moon reflected on the murky water. It was enchanting, something out of a romance novel, but you wished you saw it under better circumstances.

Something about being on a piece of wood out where land was nowhere in sight and the bottom of the ocean was so far out of reach you couldn't even imagine it unnerved you.

You never understood seamen, or pirates, even.

They did this stuff for fun.

At least seamen did it as a way to make income.

The click of his tongue brought your attention back to the freckled man, murmurs under his breath only just now reaching your ears.

Directions and landmarks, sea terminology, things you didn't understand slipped past his chapped lips.. Until something you did know was uttered.

“You’re sailing for the port of Baringham? The low-profile port? That only deals with textiles?”

“Many questions for an answer you already know,” he quipped, “I’m taking you there.”

“How are you going to take me to a place where you cannot even plot a course to?”

Huffing, he finally turned his head to you, amusement written on his face along with a charming smile that would’ve made anyone swoon,

“Alright, you’ve got me.”

Pushing himself up with his cloth covered forearms, he moved to lean with his back against the rail, crossing his arms as he gave you a sliver of respect with direct eye contact.

You briefly considered pushing him over.

“I’m a bit lost.”

“Ah, so you admit it.”

Humming, you mimicked his action, crossing your arms under your chest.

“Fortunately for you, I happen to know where it is.”

“That so?” He mused, leaning toward you ever so slightly, panicked interest cracking through his calm, forest green eyes that you couldn't help but notice twinkle, “Care to tell me?”

“Mmm. I would… but what’s in it for me?”

“What is it that you want? Isn't your guaranteed freedom at said port enough?”

“No.”

“..” The captain was shocked into silence, clear amusement still written all over his face.

Combing his dirty fingers through his messy green locks, he gave you an inquisitive stare,

“Then what else?”

You thought for a moment. What else did you want?

You wanted many things, things of which he could not grant. No one could.

You’d have to settle for something else.

Something you would prefer.. suddenly, the sickness you felt when you were in that gross cell came to mind.

“Don’t put me back in that damned cell!” The shout bubbled up from nowhere, shocking even you, “And.. and water. I want water.” You mumbled out.

Silence settled into the night once more after your loud declaration.

Your face burned with pure embarrassment as he became the one to stare at you..

Until he started laughing.

The kind of boisterous and infectious laughter that forced you to look away from his regrettably handsome self.

“You have yourself a deal, princess!”

The title further made your cheeks burn, drawing your attention back to him just to meet his enchanting gaze.

It draws you in like a sailor to a mermaid.

“Now, mind telling me?”

Licking your lips, you pointed to the heavens, his eyes following, “Travel so the brightest star in the sky is behind you, and follow the little dipper. The port is due north from there.”

It was a route you didn’t mean to memorize years ago.

The loud snap of the compass being closed made you jump, composure temporarily lost yet again.

“Ahh..” His gaze flickered over the sky, no doubt seeing a plethora of routes with each familiar constellation as he mapped the one you spoke of.

“I see it now, silly me.”

Looking down at the deck, he rubbed the back of his sweaty neck, messing with the curly hair that fell loose. Would you be so bold as to think that he may be embarrassed?

He clapped a hand on your shoulder after pushing himself fully off the rail, the whisper of thanks fanning hotly across your ear as he climbed the creaking stairs to the helm, brown boots clicking on each step as he did so.

Spinning the wheel round, the ship croaked as it turned so that the north star fell behind.

“How did you know this course?”

His curiosity was natural. After all, how did you, daughter of a well-off navy general who had never stepped aboard a boat before, know the way to a port not many knew of?

The answer was simple, though it was an answer you didn't exactly wish to know. Cursed with knowledge as you would say, blessed would say the others.

“My father.” Bitterness stung your words, and Izuku whistled.

“Slimy piece of shit he is.” It was grumbled under your breath, and yet he still somehow heard you, offering a grunt of agreement, eyes focused ahead.

“I hate the bastard myself,” he seethed through his teeth, “I’d offer up all the rum and shillings I have to see his blood spill and stain my deck by my own hands.”

The fury that clung to each word he spoke sent shivers down your spine, his aura threatening as he fell to his thoughts.

“I have an obvious reason to hate him,”

“You do?”

Your childlike curiosity warmed his heart, bringing his attention back to you,

“You don’t get scars from nowhere, love.”

Your nose crinkled at the term of endearment, climbing the stairs yourself as you rolled your eyes.

“Your scars are hidden,”

“His scars mark my back.”

Blood drained from your face, bile creeping up your throat at the meaning.

You felt sick and disgusted with the blood that ran through your veins.

You hated being the daughter of a monster.

“Oh..” The whisper caught on the wind pulling at the sails.

Silence fell once more, the unbearable kind that made even his skin crawl with uncomfortableness.

Had the crew been awake, he probably would have laughed, grabbed a bottle of rum, and stumbled into his captains quarters to drink the memories away.. But his crew was asleep.

Oh, how he missed his first mate. He was the whole reason you were on his ship in the first place.

“Just your back?”

“Do you wish he gave me more?” Izuku chuckled, teasing you once again.

“No.” You huffed, furious he would even suggest such a thing.

“I have a few.. Mainly on my hand but I-”

His words died on his tongue, heart beating in his ears when he felt your much smaller and daintier hands grip his own, the only one covered in white scars.

He gulped as you traced the smooth cicatrix on his rough skin, a small blush on his cheeks, your touch soothing the pain behind each one.

Tears not his own fell onto his skin, rolling off and spattering onto the deck below, but he remained silent, allowing you to trace the scars over his forearm, not specifying which were and which were not created by your father.

He liked your touch.

“I hate him too.” Your words were raw with hatred, touch fading as you pulled away and yet he still felt the tingle of it under his skin.

He wanted more. He hadnt felt such gentleness in so long..

That doesn’t matter, though.

“Why?” He found himself asking.

Lips pressing into a frown, he watched the sea as you mindlessly walked around behind him, stories spilling past your fervent lips, stories that made silent anger bubble in his gut, stories that you had never told anyone before - that you were forced to keep inside yourself for so long that they spilled out without care.

His desire to burn that man's ship down, to watch as the bright flames engulf him and it, destined to forever be lost at the bottom of the sea, grew tenfold.

Deku, the infamous pirate, prided himself on not giving a shit half the time, but he couldn’t ignore the empathy he felt in the moment.

You both had a common enemy.

Two strangers.. Where’s the irony in that?

“I don't like you,” You started after finishing up your uncontrollable word vomit, stopping in your tracks, “But the fact that I find this kidnapping to be the most enjoyable days of my life because I’m away from him and all the power he possesses is concerning.”

Why you told this to an untrustworthy, murdering thief.. You had no idea.

Perhaps it was because you had a feeling he would understand after hearing you out.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was currently the only person you could say it to.

After kidnapping you, all he had said to you was ‘welcome aboard!’ before locking the cell you just escaped from days later.

You should hate him, you should wish him to hang like every other disgusting pirate out there, especially for snatching you from your home in the dead of night, transferring you from one cell to the next, but you don't.

You wouldn’t show that, though.

Many words weighed heavy in Izukus mind, words he was unsure if he could say, or if it’d be the right thing to say.

He wasn’t heartless like some assumed, he wasn’t this traitorous asshole stories floating around about him told, he was just a pirate with a kind heart and skilled hands.

He almost felt bad that he planned to give you back to your father.

He felt bad that for that first day you were aboard his ship, he had wicked ideas of marking and ruining you in so many ways your father would only ever look at you and see him. 

It was a cruel way to get revenge, revenge through someone else.

Actually, maybe he was an asshole.

Right then and there, he decided that that would no longer be his course of action, not if he could help it.

Hell, he wanted to keep you as far away from your father as he could. Would he abandon his first mate? No. He’d devise some other plan. Maybe get you somewhere safe, ask for your dress, and then cover a scarecrow in said dress and use that as a tool to get him back.

It could work!

Or maybe not.

Nonetheless, plan A through D were just thrown overboard,

“Well,” He smacked the wooden wheel to get your attention,

“You’re a pretty little thing, so I like you.”

You scoffed, he continued,

“Consider yourself prisoner to your fathers enemy for a long time to come, because darlin’,”

He drawled, sauntering over to you as you instinctively backed up, only to be trapped against the railing.

His muscular arms caged you in, taller frame towering over you as electrifying green eyes intoxicated your soul and sent heat flashes up your body,

“I’m not gonna let you go so easily.”

[toiletwipes]

ok wipes so my techno brain rot is clashing with the faebur so hear me out…

techno coming to visit your cottage only to find you missing for what looks like has been a long time. he freaks and searches the forest like a maniac until finally finding you in faebur’s embrace (post name-giving), high on affection and whatever fae food he’s been feeding you, and just straight up not noticing tech’s presence.

it’s faebur that notices him first, and out of caution and possessiveness tries to run away with you. techno — being techno — immediately catches up and demands faebur release you. naturally, he refuses, just as you start to wake up out of the haze.

at this point you’d have to decide if you’d willingly stay with faebur (despite knowing he put you under some sort of enchantment) and live a magical life, or leave with techno under his protection.

… i think i’d stay ngl.

- 🐝

Honestly yeah I'd stay too,, I mean. Like come on?? Also the ultimate techno v faebur I think is one that'd kill me

Just picturing that scene, we with techno demanding you come home with him, for your safety, and faebur whispering to you sweet promises laced with honey. And you want to believe that going with techno would make you just as happy as you are with the fae who's looking at you with wild eyes and a frazzled smile, as if he didn't know that you were going to choose him.

Approaching techno you give him a hug and then you tell him you wish him the best, but your life lies with him, Wilbur the fae that occupies this forest.

Techno is shoved out of the forest within the second and Wilbur returns to making sure you know he loves you, in the best way possible.

[belphieslilcow]

Okay, idk if you've read the fic on ao3 or not, but I'm still gonna share anyways cause I also have Belphie brain rot.

So, there's this fic that's really good but I can't find it for the life of me, so I'm retelling it here. Belphie is tired and wants to stay home with the reader, but the reader has to go to school cause Lucifer will get mad if they skip. Belphie gets upset like the little brat he is, but doesn't complain much further. However, since he is upset, he obviously has to punish the reader in some way. Then it's revealed he has this pussy-pocket toy that was enchanted (I believe by Solomon, but I forget) to connect to the reader, so when Belphie uses it, the reader feels it too. Belphie uses it when the reader is in class, and edges them for the whole day as revenge. The fic ends there, but it's implied that the reader returns the favor to Belphie when they get home from school.

It's genuinely one of my faves, and I wish I could find it again lol.

i think i remember seeing something like that? i think it was on tumblr though

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

fufu~ hello there ( ꈍᴗꈍ) may I please request a short scenario of Jade tucking in his S/O to bed ( /reader) ? the thought of it makes me sobf so hard i am. i am just 🤡™

OYA OYA, LOOK WHO HAS DECIDED TO VISIT, IT’S A WILD JADE SIMP--

Ah-HEM! Hello, hello~ I, too, am soft for the idea of Jade tucking me into bed, fufu. 

I shall do my best to please while keeping it short, as was requested! We can brain rot together.

Imagine this...

“Jaaade, I don’t wanna sleep yet,” you protested, despite already finding yourself lying back into a sea of (expertly fluffed) pillows.

Your beloved eel lingered by your bedside--and you clutched onto his hand, refusing to let him go.

“Ah, but you must, my dear,” Jade insisted with a half-lidded gaze and a mysterious smile. “You need your rest.”

In your dimly lit room, his single amber eye appeared like a lighthouse beaming into the darkness. Enchanting is what it was. Perhaps even hypnotizing--it must be, because you almost wanted to agree with him.

Almost, but not quite.

“Stay with me, then.” You pat the space next to you. “This bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“As much as I would love to join you, I am afraid that I must return to Octavinelle for the evening--vice dorm leader duties call. You understand, yes?”

“But I don’t want you to leave yet. I wanted to spent more time together,” you whined, pouting.

He chuckled to himself and drew close to plant a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Another day, my angelfish,” Jade murmured against your skin. His breath was warm, his words dulcet. “For now, you must make do with sweet dreams of me. You may indulge in the real Jade when you arise.”

“W-Well...when you put it like that, I guess it’s not so bad,” you managed to stammer back. Damn him and his silver tongue.

You released him.

Reluctantly.

“Fufufu. I am happy to see that you are being rather agreeable tonight,” Jade ran his fingers through your hair. His hand eventually find their way to your cheeks, gently cupping them. “Then, I will see you tomorrow?”

“Mm,” you nodded, relishing in his touch.

A pause.

“Um...Jade?”

“Yes?”

“Before you go, can you...” you hesitated, feeling your cheeks flame. And yet, somehow you urged yourself to finish your request. “...Can you tuck me in?”

His eyes widened for a moment--just slightly--before relaxing again. Jade’s lips pulled back into a kind smile.

“But of course. Please, do relax and leave the rest to me.”

He allowed you a moment to lie down, then reached for the covers and brought them up to your chest. Jade moved with the grace and the skill of one hell of a butler, gently swaddling you in your blankets.

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.” Jade straightened and gave a slight bow. “Rest well, my beloved (Y/N).”

You obeyed, closing your eyes.

And then he was gone, like a fleeting kiss in the dark.

[amethystpath-writes]

There is a legend of an enchanting princess who lives inside a giant tower, far away from civilization and deep in the forested mountains. They say that the birds bring her food and water, and every dawn and dusk she looks out her window for any wandering travelers. Every knight that has gone in search of her never returned.

But she is not a damsel trapped inside her prison. She is the guardian of its treasure, and will show no mercy to whoever dares attempt to take it.

(This is very random lol. Have fun!)

“It’s said the princess has hair of gold. Weighs like a normal head of hair, but anything but. And she’s alone- in the forest, surrounded by mountains. Do you know how many carriages have wrecked in the mountains? How many of them have fallen off into the seas?”

Gargon shook his head and tipped it back with a tankard held against his lips. Just a drop of ale left. With a sigh, he smacked it back down on the table and waved at the barkeep. He said to his friend while he waited, “Just myths. What princess gets left alone in a tower for years? Before you answer, I’ll tell you myself; none.”

The barkeep returned with a pitcher of ale and poured it into Gargon’s tankard.

Jemis, Gargon’s buddy, shrugged. “You might not think so, but I fancy the idea. And anyway, I misspoke a bit. The girl isn’t entirely alone. The birds- sparrows, robins, and hawks alike- bring her food. Either way, she stays on the lookout for travellers to find her.”

“Yeah?” Gargon took a swig of his drink. “What about dairy? Do the birds give her milk, too?”

“I don’t know, Gargon, but don’t you find it all even the slightest bit intriguing? Don’t you want to know for yourself?”

Laughing heartily, Gargon knocked his friend’s shoulder with his own. “You have a crush on the legend lady, don’t you?”

Jemis flustered, shoulders bouncing with uncertainty of what to say. His ears were becoming red; he could feel them heating up. “Of course not. I don’t know her, but I’d at least like to know she exists.” He smiled a bit. “And there’s treasure. Did I mention that part?”

“I’ll tell you what. You buy me half of the drinks I had tonight, and we’ll go out to find this forest-mountain princess with gold hair and bird friends. Maybe I can ask her where her dairy comes from.”

“Maybe use a different wording for that question when we get there.”

“Assuming she’s real. Are you paying?”

Jemis dug a pouch out from his belt, peeked inside, shrugged, and tossed it on the counter. “Paid. All of it. Can we go?”

Gargon held a finger up before closing his eyes and sludged his tankard back again, chugging the contents. Jemis shook his head; he was never one for drinking like his best friend was.

Slamming the tankard on the bar, Gargon stood, reaching behind himself and clapping Jemis on the back. “You ready, Sir Lancelot?”

You’d have thought the non-drinking friend was drunk by the way he practically fell from his stool. He followed after Gargon: one, because that was his adventure buddy, and two, because he was afraid Gargon would fall without assistance.

**

It wasn’t a long journey, but it was a dangerous one. Gargon nearly got swept away in a strong stream because his drunk brain stole his balance and common sense.

Jemis near regretted even mentioning the legend princess. But as the trip continued, he began thinking of the little joys; one such being that his friend was thankfully wearing his armour. Otherwise, Jemis listened to the birds chirping, and he imagined they were gathering berries for the rumoured girl in a tower. Why he was so fascinated, he had no idea. Fantasies were fun, and wouldn’t it be amazing to find that one of them was real? And if it was so nearby, why not chase it? What was the harm?

“You see that?”

“Hm?” Jemis stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his friend. Gargon was pointing, and though looking at a finger didn’t tell him where exactly to look, as Jemis looked in the general direction, he saw it. Stone. In just the near distance, maybe a hundred yards away.

“Probably some ruin.”

“I’ll tell you what ruin is, and it’s you ruining the moment, you arse. It’s the princess’ tower. The legend is true.”

Gargon grumbled something along the lines of, “You mad, scrawny lad.” He acted like a fifty-year-old man, but in all reality, both men were barely above the age of twenty.

“Come on, we should keep going.”

“Or we could make a shelter. It’s getting dark, Jemis.”

Looking up at the darkening sky, Jemis almost agreed. But they were so close, so close to that stone tower, so close to meeting the princess with gold hair. “We’re almost there. Surely, she will let us stay in the tower. You know there are wolves and the like out at night. It’s better to be in an already occupied tower than to lay in a tiny shelter made of twigs and leaves.”

Even drunken, Gargon shook his head with a huff. “I’m starting to regret making a deal with you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jemis began walking again, watching the ground, and stepping over rocks and twigs, and all else that the forest floor liked to use to trip people. “It isn’t a far walk. We’ll be there before the moon is up.”

“I can see the moon, it’s behind our heads.”

Jemis looked back and bit his lip. “Torches, from the- from the tavern we just left.”

“Right. Well, we are losing your so-called ‘daylight’ and gaining more ‘torchlight’ so keep walking before it’s gone altogether.”

And so, they walked.

**

The tower was…not very impressive, believe it or not. It was a sad, short thing in comparison to the stories- though still tall enough to see over the tress- with moss growing over it and with holes here and there. Still, Jemis fully believed a princess was hidden away inside.

“Well?” Gargon prompted as his friend just stood there in front of him, staring up at an empty window. “Are we going in or standing out as wolf bait?”

“We go in, of course.”

“Right. Sorry I had to ask. It wasn’t as if we were just standing and gazing at it. What was I thinking?” He huffed. “You know, this whole adventure has managed to make me sober and I’m not happy about it.”

Jemis shushed his friend as he walked towards an old and rotting wooden door. It heaved open and Jemis- in all his glorious skin and bone, fell to the ground, earning a bumble of laughter from Gargon. “Shut up,” he muttered, standing, and dusting himself off.

They took a look at the square room they were in. It was nicer than the outside, more cleaned up, even if there were… bundles of straw? Why was there straw? Jemis dismissed it shortly, figuring maybe it was just the birds. In any case, it was all only pressed up against one wall and it was hardly noticeable if you weren’t deliberately looking for interesting finds.

It was dark, the only light coming from the various holes of the building and slits between stones, which both Jemis and Gargon supposed were meant to be windows.

There were stairs in the back left corner. Jemis took the first step.

“I don’t know about this,” Gargon said with a hand clenched around his buddy’s arm. “We can’t see up there. Whoever- if there is someone- they have the advantage against us.”

Jemis scoffed, pulling his arm away. “It’s fine. I told you the myths. The only thing that is up these stairs is-”

“Hello?”

The men went still as their gaze shifted up the stairwell.

“Is there someone down there?”

Smiling, Jemis looked at Gargon, mouthing, ‘What’d I tell you?’

“Princess? I am Sir Jemis, and my friend behind me-”

“Sir Gargon.” Oh, now he wanted to speak up.

A chirp sounded above the men and a bird came flying down, swooshing above their heads and making them both duck before it retreated upstairs again. Jemis couldn’t help the smile taking over his lips. The legend was real. It was proving itself further, and further, and further.

“May we enter what room you are in, Princess?”

Silence followed for a moment, but then there was another chirp and the princess answered. “The man at the bottom of the stairwell, leave your sword.”

Gargon looked to his hip and squinted before glancing up at the staircase again. He placed a hand on his weapon but didn’t remove it from its scabbard. “It stays with me at all times.” Gargon slept with his sword. He wouldn’t give it to a dirty floor of an old tower when, especially when demand by some random girl who shouldn’t have even known he had a sword.

“Then leave my home.”

Jemis pressed Gargon with a glare. “Just put it down. It’ll be there when we return.”

He shook his head. Absolutely not.

The feminine voice said, “If you do not lay it down- or otherwise leave- I will assume you are just another one of them.”

“One of who, Your Highness?”

The bird came flapping down again, this time flying to the wall where Jemis and Gargon noticed the various piles of clumped straw. It took a bundle in its beak and began slamming it rather viciously against the stone floor. The bundle wasn’t soft as it hit the ground. No. It made a hollow- but also solid- sound.

Gargon’s eyes widened. “Are those…”

“Bones,” the girl upstairs finished. “I am no damsel in distress, but I do like company. Some men took that to their advantage when they saw me- with me being what I am and all.”

“Jemis, we’re leaving. Come on, I feel better about wolves than I do about being here.” He casted a nervous glance at the bird, still beating a bone against the ground. Gargon grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s g-”

“Hold on,” Jemis whispered, and he stepped forward, head tilting like he saw something he fancied or was curious about.

As Gargon looked up, he saw it, too. Gold. The most glorious gold he’d ever seen. He was never one for the precious metals; he liked jewels, mostly, but this…he didn’t even know his mouth was open until he caught a cool breeze with it and snapped his lips shut.

“Drop. Your. Weapon.” The princess stepped fully into view, right at the top of the stairwell. Her skin was golden, and her hair, as well. Not only this, but her eyes were golden, too. She was…she was beautiful. She was magnificent. She was unimaginable.

Gargon nodded, wrapping his fingers around the grip of his sword, and pulling it away before dropping it on the ground. “Yes, Your Highness. I apologize if I made you feel threatened.” He bowed, and Jemis followed suit in a rather dazed way.

“You are forgiven. Now, come upstairs and tell me some stories. I do not have the pleasure of hearing them often.”

Jemis nodded, but all he could think about was how true and yet how wrong the rumours were. The princess was real, and she did live in this tower, and she did have some odd relationship with birds, but the treasure…The stories were told as if there were piles of gold. No one said the princess was the treasure herself.

Gods, her eyes were so enchanting as she watched the two men climb the stairs. They were golden, yes, but not in a solid metal kind of way. They swirled as if the stars also pooled in her eyes and were being stirred in with the gleaming yellow and orange. The men were entranced.

The room they walked into wasn’t special. It was just like the downstairs minus the….the human bones…and there was furniture in here, which was nice. They all sat in individual chairs made of creaking wood.

“It isn’t often I have two knights come to save the day.”

“Oh, I- I wasn’t- I didn’t think-”

“He was unsure if you were real or not,” Gargon filled in. “No saving intended.”

Jemis nodded rapidly. “I mean, if you needed help then we could- but you are handling yourself, so I- so we don’t…um…I apologize.”

The princess hummed sweetly. “What about you, swordsman? Did you believe in my existence?”

“N-no. I did not.”

“You have a scar on your eye,” Jemis muttered, and he hadn’t meant to be heard, but he was.

Touching her brow, where the scar was most noticeable, she sighed, looking to Gargon. “You understand why I demanded you put your sword down, yes?”

“Of course.” Gargon looked away from the princess’ beautiful eyes, looking instead at his lap, then his buddy, and his lap again when he noticed Jemis simply ogling the girl. “I am sincerely sorry. I had no idea that you…I am sorry.”

She laughed, and both men felt themselves smiling at the sound. Like caramel or something sweet, Jemis thought.

“You two are the most apologetic I have ever met. Tell me, do either of you have precious loves at home?”

“We don’t! Do not. Uh. We do not, Princess.”

Her smile fell into something mischievous. She stood from her seat, walking over to Jemis, then walking behind him, allowing her fingers to trail around his neck as she stepped. “Do you desire a strong love in your life?”

“Do I? I-I think every-everyone does.” He couldn’t think with her golden skin touching his own rather bland skin. “Gargon! You- aha- you talked about settling down when we were in the tavern, didn’t you?”

No. He didn’t. He and Jemis never even came close to discussing relationships because neither of them wanted it. They were knights- soldiers. Love had no place for them even if they wanted it. Sure, romance was glorified in the stories, but it wasn’t real, not when you could be sent off to war at any moment. Love was a fairytale, and even with the stunning princess in the room, he still didn’t believe love was one of them. Jemis suddenly did, though. And it wasn’t right because this was the first time he ever fancied it.

The princess made her way to Gargon, doing to him what she did to Jemis, dragging her beautiful skin against his. “Your colour contrasts greatly against mine,” she whispered, her hand stopping at the base of his neck as she bent down to his ear. “I dare say you are as beautiful as I am.”

“Flattering, Your Highness, but unlike my friend, I have duties to fulfil.”

“Am I not allowed to flirt with a knight?” Her lips turned against his ear and he took a shaky breath. “And anyways, who said I had deeper intentions? At least with you.” The princess pulled away from Gargon and began a leisurely stroll towards the open-mouthed Jemis once again.

Gargon stood with a dry mouth. “Jemis, we need to return home. Thank you for allowing us to stay, Your Highness, but I-”

She brought a finger to her lips. “He cannot hear you now.” The princess giggled, and this time it sounded closer to poison than sugared treats. “Your mind is very strong, Sir Gargon. I might like to keep you for a little while longer. Sir Jemis, however…”

Her Highness sighed and did the same finger-around-the-neck that she did before. Gargon watched as his friend’s eyes snapped shut. His own eyes widened and without another thought, he ran down the stairs in search of his sword, but it wasn’t there where he dropped it before.

He turned, watching the top of the staircase, and wondering what the hell he should do. Gargon wouldn’t leave his friend- he could never, but without his sword…He turned back to the floor as he thought. Gargon could hit the princess, knock her out, but that…that wasn’t right. Why was the idea of shoving her through with a sword easier than manhandling her? It didn’t matter. Where was his damn sword?

“You have been the most fun knight, Sir Gargon. You came here for treasure, did you not? I could see it in your head, that little conversation you had at the tavern with your friend upstairs. You only agreed to come when you knew you would gain something. That changed, didn’t it?”

Gargon spun on his heel, backed up step by step until his back hit the wall. It was too dark to see the bones anymore, or even the bloody door. He was trapped.

Except, the princess glowed. Bright and beautiful, her golden skin shone like an ingot in the sunlight, only her glow was confined to her skin, it didn’t stretch- didn’t light the room. It was through the glow, however, that he saw the red covering her mouth.

Tears pricked his eyes. “Please- please tell me he- tell me he is alive.”

“Would it give you hope?” Gargon didn’t answer. “I think it would, so I will say it. Your friend is alive, but I am not quite sure for how long.” She tapped her chin as she stalked towards the terrified knight. “Humans bleed out very fast.”

“What…are you?” His voice was breathy, almost unwilling to come out at all.

“Treasure.”

His mind wasn’t so hard to break this time. She broke him down with the blood on her face from her meal upstairs- which she very much enjoyed. But, the treasure-seekers were always so much more delicious, and Gargon certainly was.

( @whatwhumpcomments )

[yejiroh]

Hello! I love your Wake Up and See Me story! (not so secret slut for angst and character death) I'd like to request very angsty HCs for Obey me! charas x fem!reader who is still grieving for her family singing her mother's lullaby while spacing out somewhere public. The lullaby in question being Lullaby of Woe by Ashley Serena, The Hanging Tree from Hunger Games series or Come Little Children by Erutan. Wanna see their reactions so bad!!!

I- I really need to update that series. Thank you so much for the support of it anon!

And thank you for the request darling! I’m sorry it took so long, but the lullaby’s were beautiful! So yes, I decided to listen to them all and match them with who I think it’d get the best reaction from! I made a little scene as well before the reactions, so it may or may not be a bit of a long read.

Lullaby Reaction! Obey Me BROTHERS x Fem!MC (ANGST)

Couldn't add the Keep Reading link because Tumblr is a beeotch. Sorry not sorry to everyone because this is LONG!

***

TRIGGER WARNING: death, loss of parents, toxicity, mentions of cannibalism, more death, child abuse, traumatic stress, mentions of suicide, nightmare factors, unintentional murder, loss of siblings, and as the anon requested, A SHIT TON OF ANGST!

Side note: I really really liked Lullaby of Woe...may consider making a series based on the lyrics. Who knows?

***

This one is kind of long because I did get carried away, but I do hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

***

Lucifer, Mammon and Beezlebub: Come Little Children

As the cool Autumn breeze hit her face, MC took a sip from the hot cup between her clothed hands. Today would mark the 15th year since the orphanage- her orphanage, had burned down. All 23 children and her parents except she had burned to an ash- less than that truly. She, with her ill body and frail stature, she, with her poor value and level of importance, she, the one who had been trapped in the building longest of all.

Every time she had walked into the toy store around the corner, MC felt pulled towards the puzzle sets. Specifically, the 24 piece sets. MC was the 24th child. But she was also the first. Every day, she’d buy a set, just to lay it on their graves, sorry that she had been left behind. 

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away, into a land of enchantment…oh momma, I’m so sorry I let you all down...I’m sorry I played with the fire, I’m sorry.” A tear had poured down, slid to her dry lips as she desperately held them back.

“I’m sorry momma...papa...I’m sorry I didn’t listen...I’m sorry I killed you all…”

And, as she walked away from the tombstones, a heart that was not hers broke.

{Reactions}

LUCIFER:

1.Never before had Lucifer been so...disturbed.

2.The song was stunning, and that was true….but somehow he could relate

3.He would definitely stay on the down low for a while, his pride showing when he has to come up with lies as to why he wasn’t talking to you

4.Okay, flashbacks for weeks. He was genuinely affected by the song.

5.In the end, he needs more comfort than you once he finally kicks pride out the window and sheds tears in front of you.

6.“I’m sorry, MC…”

MAMMON:

1.Okay...he wasn’t the best at spying on you-but he was worried! Your behavior was odd since last Sunday...actually, every Sunday.

2.He ran out to you, crying hard as he tackled you, saying how sorry he was for digging into your personal life. 

3.The demon was holding fistfulls of little puzzle pieces, candy, and notes, claiming they were from the souls of the children, who wished you the best in life and to move on.

4.He, the avatar of greed, had done something of huge charitable value for these children as he held you close

5.Yes, he got flashbacks….but decided not to dwell on them, more so trying to comfort you.

6.“Stupid human...you can come to me always, ya know that?”

BEEZLEBUB:

1.Beezlebub doesn’t always show his feelings, sure. But he does, forever and always, come for those he cares about. 

2.It’s like a magnetic pull as you cry. He’s there, wiping the large tear threatening to spill with his thumb, licking it off before wiping his hand off. 

3.A kind smile with eyes pain ridden as his big hands engulf your own, for he too, had a tragic past and lost someone he considered blood.

4.“It’s okay, MC. They’re right here, and always will be. Please don’t cry.” He says as he points to your heart, right by your breast, but with no sexual intent. Only comfort. 

5.“Come on, big girl, don’t cry, I’m here.” He says, holding you close and running his fingers through your hair with the gentlest of touches.

6. No one can harm you in your vulnerable state as the Avatar of Gluttony protects you.

Satan and Asmodeus: The Hanging Tree

It was in class- herbology. The lesson was on wisteria trees when MC bordly began to hum a tune.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? They strung up a man, they say who murdered three. Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight, in the hanging tree.” 

“Miss L/n quiet down! I’m trying to teach!” The professor had called out, but MC was lost as tears began to bubble up. She continued her little song quietly as her desk mates huffed in annoyance. She’d done this every day of the week, only to end up crying. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, nor did they get a word out of her. Not until Amso took MC and Satan out for a spa treatment.

Filing her nails, Asmo blew off the dust, his brows furrowed.

“Say, MC?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is it you sing that depressing song every time someone brings up wisteria trees?”

Now Satan looked up, lifting a cucumber off his eye, his curiosity sparked. MC looked away, pulling her hand away from Asmo’s as she pulled her knees to her chest, a deep sigh escaping her lips. Asmo quickly waved his hands in front of him.

“Oh, sorry, sorry MC! I didn’t know it was a touchy subject-”

Satan interrupted. “Care to share?”

“Satan!”

“No, no, Asmo- it’s okay. It’s...it’s just not something I really talk about.” MC said, finishing off with a whisper. 

The two leaned in, eyes big and expectant when MC looked to them.

“You know, my father passed away when I was really young. It was a selfish reason, really- to put it into his own words, it was, “To escape the responsibility of life.” , but that wasn’t the case.” MC  raised her pant leg, revealing all the burn marks and scars covering the skin. 

“It was really to escape the guilt of hurting me.”

The brothers went quiet for a moment before Satan put a hand up.

“So what does that have to do with that song you were singing?”

MC smiled bitterly. “Because he was the man in The Hanging Tree my mother always sang to me.”

“So what happened to your mother?”

“She too, joined him in death…and left me alone.”

{Reactions}

SATAN: 

1.He was at a loss for words, to say the least.

2.Never, in the demon’s countless millennia had he come across such a pitiful soul

3.Taking a bite of the cucumber before tossing it aside, he took the other off, tracing his fingers across the burns that resembled his rage: Ugly, loved, and traumatizing

4.As the room was quiet, he just felt intrigued to know more, had to know more. 

5.“You’re very strong, MC.”

6.The Hanging Tree did not leave his mind for quite some time as he tried to figure out the mystery MC had unknowingly left implanted in his brain.

ASMODEUS:

1.He has never ruined his makeup by crying in front of somewhere. Never ever.

2.But he sure as hell came close to it. 

3.Asmo had nothing to say but grab MC’s hands and kiss them softly over and over again before continuing the manicure he had initially started.

4.A mental note to take MC’s mind off other things so as not to give her wrinkles from stress or depression. 

Leviathan and Belphegor: Lullaby of Woe

She never had a peaceful night's rest. The dreams always came back to haunt her.Each night, she’d live through it, again, and again, and again. Oh, how the false man in white would come to her, a mischievous grin on his handsome face before cutting into her mind, showing her the deaths at her fault. Her mother, kind and beautiful, always coming in to protect her, reassure her that it wasn’t real, that she was seeing things. 

“Momma, please! I’m scared! I don’t wanna see him again momma!” A little girl wailed, holding onto her mother’s waist, legs wrapped around in a firm hold, hands bundled in her clothes.

“My darling, please just sleep~ I’ll always be here love. Always.”

And always she was, for her remains laid in that rotting home to this day, not yet known. Still, no one would believe the late Mrs. L/n’s daughter.

MC shuffled more in her sleep before finally waking up, eyes puffy from the unconscious crying. Slowly she got up, getting ready for the school day as she washed her face, prepared, and left the room. 

“Good morning.” Each of the brothers would greet her, to which she’d return a small nod. There was nothing to talk about. Not when these nightmares haunted her so.

A little girl sat by her mother’s corpse, a man beside her.

Drink, child. Feast in the blood of a sinner.

“...But….but mother wasn’t a sinner…”

“Ignorant child. You are but a bastard, for she was never married. Drink and cleanse yourself of the blood of a sinner. Repent and be saved.”

Truly, the false man in white was but a liar, wanting nothing more than a child’s innocence and fortune as he toyed with her. 

Lost in her own fantasies, she began to sing, the tall Jubokko tree towering beneath her with the damned’s skulls by her feat. 

“For the witcher, heartless, cold...Paid in coin of gold, He comes he’ll go leave naught behind, but heartache and woe…”

“Deep, deep woe, for the witcher, heartless, cold, Paid in coin of gold, he comes…”

MC’s voice broke into it, pathetic cracks of the voice clear but quiet as she stopped.

A small applause was heard behind her; Belphie and Levi had seen and listened patiently, attentive and concerned.

The Avatar of Sloth put his arms down, kicking a skull as he sat down.

“That was a beautiful song, MC. What has made you so upset?”

Levi too, had sat down, his eyes no longer focused on the forgotten D.D.D.

MC just smiled sheepishly, sitting down with the boys as she tucked back a loose strand away. 

“It was nothing important. A story for another time.”

{Reactions}

BELPHEGOR:

1.Girl, honey, darling. You're lying. It’s okay! You can trust him!

2.If MC doesn’t end up telling him, then he can just slip into the dreams (I think?)

3.Honestly worried for you. He’s the Avatar of Sleep- he KNOWS you’ve been disturbed lately, and more so than others.

4.Can you imagine the pure look of hatred once he finds out about this man?

5.And ew, you drank your mother’s blood? 

6.But that’s cannibalism, which is a major sin so…

7.I guess you really can stay with him forever!

8.Honestly, he’s like a flame; burns as long as there’s fuel, then will move on to another topic.

LEVIATHAN:

1.So yeah. He didn’t really say anything.

2.But he was listening. 

3.Didn’t make an anime reference once because nothing he’s ever knew of had been that horrifying. 

4. Didn’t wanna make you feel shy about it, but kind of hints about it later on. 

5.No, he doesn’t care about the man, because as you sat down on the skull ridden dirt, you just seemed so...peaceful

[michaelbogild]

Quotes written April 18 2021

our mutual melodies, our ancient lights that are wed to each other

her soul is spangled with astral grace

our love had florid stretches, our love had terrible pits

Give me, Life, a draught of oblivion.

she entered the truth of this love with a heart about to burst

Of course I love her, I am eternally fond of flowers.

how easily charmed I was, how deeply you travelled into my soul

in her heart, a lone buttercup whispering something true to his ethereal dreams

she answers his soul with all the colors of her affections

the ghostly waves of her forsaken ocean

I am just a floating phantom that once were in love but now is lost

he sailed into the star-spangled night of her sirenic beauty

the florid touch of her soul's amorous eloquence

I met the angels that wrote the harmonies of our love. They were devils.

though his love her emotions became songs of starry beauty

your roses were not without their shades, shades that swallowed me and all my eternal foolishness

tonight, tonight you look like the muse of the moon

I felt in her love the true pulse of life

I writ her absence upon the heart of the unknown

Our poem died too soon, but so does all beautiful things

he set aflame the saddest moon of her heart

surreally pulled by the gravity of her cryptic songs

I still linger in the illusion that you actually loved me

finally we meet, two souls divorced for centuries

in her heart, a fearless daffodil that knows how to dream

I am not a great guitarist, but I play the piano really badly.

Touch me with the mystic silence of all your moons.

nothing is mundane when I close my eyes and dream

her love wears the spirit of an infinite rose

Your are the blue skies that lives in my soul as lies.

her beauty is a bird fluttering in the half-light of his heart

Her bohemian soul, her fancy everything.

you broke the spine of my entire universe

Lady luck, what the fuck?

she wore the endlessness of his love, an invisible dress of mystic grace

I will never see you again, I know that, but how you shine in my lyrics.

the flaming music of her wildflower affections

her roses are now praying, where is his love?

her wraithlike eyes, eyes that saw everything and nothing

time dissolved by the power of our touches

the seraphic enchantment of her gorgeous eyes of spring

I am higher than the star of her love and beauty.

A love that could deluge the heart

we ran full-tilt into what we mistook for heaven

the ambiguous rose of her half-light love

What shall tame this heart now that it has gazed into eternity?

the sad whispers of your absence is nothing but ghosts, but I can't forsake them

she is the temple I pray in, she is the darkness outside of it

our love unfolded a higher reality

see was too ethereal to embrace

Writing poetry has become a psychedelic for me.

timeless temptress, muse of my heart, sing, sing into this night that never ends

we were the throbbing pulse of that night, we burned harder than the stars

he orbits her beauty with his delirious verses

I am suspended in a sky that exist beyond my life.

the ascending poetry of our young love

I am as broken as the autumn that gave birth to me.

the burning cathedral of our star-crossed love

The canvas is empty...and will remain so until she returns.

he excites her heart with the force of a thousand dreams

you deserve an ode that will survive the stars

I planted flowers of poetry on the grave of our love

I will rebuild my life, brick by brick, without you.

the bleeding bride of the moon, whispering to me something unclear, in a night, in a night of a thousand oddities

we took flight towards heaven winged with a thousand hopes

I read a page from her mystic heart and fell irretrievably in love

there are definitely moments when I feel like a cosmic child

she rejoiced in the spring with all the roses of her dreams

thinking about you is flirting with melancholy

I exist outside of my brain, in the world of a dream that can't possibly be real.

they married the vastness of each other's love

we were fit for paradise, but we burned it down

a poem written by the ink of God

You do not own my heart, the night does, which has stopped calling out your name.

we belong in the heart of the cosmos, our love will take us there

He scored the royal flush of women, but did he know?

her beauty, a mystic pearl

her heart was slighted by the summer of his beauty

how easily she stirs the depths of his wonder

no one will ever find the broken crown of our love, except of course they read my poems

All her stars were enchanting, she sang their light into his heart.

the lyrical dreams of our far-travelling souls

her love was a hollow poet

he brushed the marigolds of her feelings

the resounding canyon of his hearts flaming love-poems

As you played with my heart your own slowly rotted.

in this mystic night of oddities, a profound deepening, whispers, subtle lights, and all my future seen as memories

She lit a candle in the darkest room of my heart.

the elusive butterflies of her more-than-divine love

her love felt like an ancient secret, a hidden star

she wears the yoke of a thousand yesterdays

the yawning abyss of everything I have become, the endless darkness, oh the infinite darkness

The soul of midsummer has turned into the stars of her eyes

I lost my way when I decided to love you

dancing on the shore of his love, daydreaming with the waves

her hopes are now weeping within the saddest cadences of nightingales

she loves with the persistence of a waterfall

the secret rose of her soul was perfumed with the miracle of his love

the radiant songs of our hearts are now wounds of unutterable darkness

this stranded homeless soul, this soul without a dream

From soulmates to strangers, what a beautiful ending.

every song is a knife that cuts me open, how I bleed your absence

she drinks the wine of his soul

His captivated heart sails upon the waves of her songs.

her soul wears the perfume of his heart's golden poetry

the moons of her love were nothing but mirages

the transient dance of shallow love is all she has experienced

I am stranded in a desert void of her love

...and I drank a cup of stars, and I forgot the world and every traitor in it.

the ink that praises you ought to live forever

she weaves into his soul the astral charms of her wildflower sensuousness

the perpetual darkness of her devilish gravity

the astral flare of our young and burgeoning love

she could dream forever in the warmth of his arms

everything this girl does is shaped like poetry

he painted his dreams with all the colors of her personality

he shapes with his summery love the budding constellations of her dream-wild soul

we stand outside the seasons, touched by colours that don't exist

like a careless wave is fate when she washes over us

I keep circling the soul of what we had, I am knee-deep in memories

her love, my lethe

he held her in a mystic embrace, entering her heart like a thousand pulsating truths

his strong affections are madrigals of summer, strains of serendipitous light

she is perfectly scented with the roses of God

But her songs have shades and only them am I allowed to embrace

Where is my mind? Have you seen it? Did her love steal it? I will ask the moon.

at the threshold of true love, two souls ready to be united forever

kissed by a moon-goddess on a night of sweet surrender

the dreadful dissonance that is now between us, how harrowing to my heart

Snowflakes, so many snowflakes. Where are we? Oh yes, in a dream.

She basks in his vast beauty, transfixed on his beautiful lips.

her imperial eyes of sure victory

His flames are French, his warrior-heart Greek.

he is on every page of her heart

only he can read the pages of her blood

the fleeting muse of my crepuscular soul

we ascended into the heart of a sea-born mystery

I kept dancing at the edge of illusion, trying again and again to trap reality

only through love could we flow into each other's souls

the imperial flame of her ruthless soul

lonely lips, aching skin, fevered heart

the astral joys of simply just holding you

We are satellites in a sorrowful twilight, drifting further and further away from each other

Yes, I fell, but into poems.

The spring moon took us into his dreams.

You emptied day by day my soul of stars.

the spirit of the darkness, her eternal twin

richly charmed I was, deep in dreams that sang your name in rainbows

Not even Shakespeare could produce poetry this rapidly.

I live at the periphery of something that shouldn't exist

another love, another soul whose beauty will grow back my wings

We will live forever. Our love is one of divinity's rhymes.

so wondrously colored were the dreams of our burgeoning love

her words are courtesans, her eyes are lies

we turned into ethereal light in those resplendent moments of sensual love

They interwove their imaginations and composed a dream of endless splendour

you were a secret path to paradise

she liberated with a tender kiss the sunlight of his soul

he crucified with his goodbye all the roses of her hopeful love

the songs of her beauty, chains

She charms his emotions with all the summers of her heart.

the astral richness of her dreamily divine eyes

the wistful dusk has a song for our hearts

my dreams are becoming more and more solid

Often did he sail to the moon when she loved him, often did he enter the pulse of life.

bathing in the moonlight of his faithful love

I feel the alluring gravity of her notes, I throb with every beat of her wildflower airs

we met within the colors of a sudden mystery

The evanescent music of those dreamy spheres, how I miss it.

I imagined a heaven that could never exist

her love is a conduit of colours, the spring of eternal songs

she breaks the borders of my very thoughts, her soul is pure endlessness

the truest colour must be that of your eyes

the soft whispers of angels can still contain lies

the infatuated moons of her sea-kissed heart

he reached with a perfect kiss the secret lyrics of her spring-blessed soul

I clung to a dream that didn't want me.

your love and beauty is the true world and the only world I will worship

our moonstruck hearts spoke in the poetry of sensual touches

To think of you is to walk at the contour of a mystery.

We have never been further apart, so why do I feel you so deeply in my bones?

Venus herself could not have slid into my soul any faster than you

the velvet paradise of her seraphic love

our love had a spiritual chorus, but this religion had to die

the aching ocean of her breakable heart

the burning pilgrim-notes of her desirous love

His imagination has taken on the shape of the universe.

she is made entirely of night-songs

she floats into empty spaces and decorates them with all the colours and shapes of his translatable beauty

she invites another universe into my heart

Everything she is, everything she does, summons poetry from his soul.

the sunset knows my heart better than you ever did

I amorously burn through verses and visions. I miss you all the time.

the liberated Venus of her bashful beauty

he rides on the crests of her oceanic emotions

the luscious strains of her beauty's cosmic song

black tears, all I shed now are black tears

you darken my writings, your dusk is everywhere

I was enslaved within the songs of the sea-nymphs, I felt a thousand waves curse my bones and blood.

though naked she wears the spirit of the night

I am restlessly rooted in nights that call out your name.

her poems like ornately-colored butterflies

I can finally drink the wine of my own spirit.

she danced with the soul of his love on a shore of exotic dreaming

foolishly anchored in the elusiveness of his love

vaster than the dreams of God is her summer-born beauty

nothing can dream like a pair of green eyes

he chases immortality through sonnets of glorious devotion

they were ready to drown in each other's blood

she is the throbbing pulse of his verdant poetry

love, the mirage I supposed real

I am high on the poetry of this life, this life with you

She plays with the unsung darkness, places the dusk upon her tongue.

Ever a slave to her sorcerous spirit.

how rapidly we turned into stars, how deeply we felt the cosmos of love's deepest truths

loving her was like dancing next to an abyss, drunk

I stand in the rich blaze of her mystic spirit

he courts her jasmine heart with a poem of unbeatable eloquence

the sea-nymphs of her silken voice speaks of endless love