#feathered revelation au

[bunningchaos]

Yet another WIP, that I don't plan on finishing so why not throw it here.

It's Angel and Fallen cosplaying as characters from a game called League of Legends, anyone capable of identifying who it is?

[anantaru]

DAY 28 — VAMPIRE AU

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — diluc

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, vampire au, reader is a little delulu, mentions of blood & blood drinking, rough and very passionate

vampire diluc who has never experienced a real, centered moment of happiness before meeting you— or at least not without turning into a cruel, evil monster, whose intention was to drain the blood of others.

but now he revels in your beauty, and he thinks you're intoxicating, tainting your mind with his small compliments.

when you see him, you cannot help yourself but feel frightened, yet also excited— and you wonder if something has been wrong with you all along, especially when you let him get closer to you, the cold breeze outside your window bristling over the dry leaves as you're solely focusing on the view in front of you, your breathing continuing to escalate as he sinks into your warmth.

vampire diluc who hides his face in your neck as his cock drags with a lack of purpose other than thrusting a maddening fusion of thrill and pleasure into you, your eye sight becoming blurred each moment you taste his roughness in your body with his erection twitching within your walls in searing need to release— for a solid minute, he ponders and caresses the sensitive flesh on your neck, his sharp canines like a feather crossing over the skin.

vampire diluc knows you would let him do it, meaning you'd approve of him tasting your blood on his tongue— and it somewhat terrifies him, actually, that you're willing to go through that for him. there was a small tug on your hips, then a squeeze, with the scarlet haired pushing you into him before he slows his movements for a bit, "tell me if it hurts," he mutters finally, "i cannot hold myself back.. any longer," his voice webbed in grit and stones that you're vibrating all over the second he mouths wet spots over your neck.

"i will," you whisper back, watching him nuzzle his face closer, "i want this.. want you," an instinctual feeling was urging you to hold yourself steadily against his body, your breath erratic yet your eyes, they told a different story because they, for one, were glimmering with an emotion everyone could easily discern— it's pure excitement, glittering beneath the humid air.

vampire diluc who proceeds slowly, parting his lips ever so slightly before pressing his sharp canines into your flesh, immersing his teeth deeper until he opens a little spot to hollow his cheeks on before making contact with a taste of metal, a taste vampire diluc was utterly familiar with— and ugh, he knew you'd taste better than any other before, he was aware that you're so special, from inside and out.

your breath hitches as a new warmth embraces you, his hands on every inch of your skin as he repeats his thrusts on you while never letting go of your flesh between his teeth— the tug on your skin was stinging a little and the feeling of getting blood pulled out of you was frankly, something you thought you never had to experience in life.

but.. it feels nice, exciting, and it urges your cheeks to burn hot, for some reason it makes you feel so full when he drinks from you together with crowding you to the hilt with his erection— long and thick and just so right.

regardless, it has you seeing stars and copious amounts of planets flickering throughout the universe— his entire weight on you, molding his front into you while pinning your breasts against his broad chest, whereas his hand— hot to the every last trace, lays flat over the plush side of your ass, the softness of your body forevermore melting into the soft ridges of his.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[devilevlls]

Creepy Obey me! AU

𝖲𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌: 𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌, 𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖯𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. Remember: The following information might not be that accurate comparing to Lucifer's canon personality.

Lucifer

⌞Feeding Habits⌝

  ࿔ Carnivorous (meat-eating)

  ࿔ Hunting habits: Lucifer harbors a distaste for the act of hunting souls directly. Instead, he frequents a secluded area in Devildom where lost souls wander, offering a more palatable source for consumption.

However, when it comes to acquiring meat, his approach takes a stark turn. He revels in the thrill of stalking his prey from a distance. The panicked screams only serve to heighten his excitement, igniting a primal thrill within him as he closes in on his target. ㅤ

⌞Unique features⌝

 ࿔ Two pairs of black feathered wings, some says they can cure wounds, but no one was brave enough to try plucking a feather.

 ࿔ Specific scent: He emits a natural scent reminiscent of roaring flames, so potent that it can induce discomfort and even prompt coughing fits. ࿔  Height: 1,97 m ㅤ

⌞Reproductive Habits, Seasonal Changes⌝

  ࿔ Mating seasons: Courtship displays - Lucifer's devotion to his mate knows no bounds, often manifesting in grand gestures and displays of affection. However, don't be too quick to celebrate, for alongside his demonstrations of love, you may find an unexpected presence creeping into your surroundings. Ghostly apparitions, once mortal souls he dispatched, now transformed into loyal servants, subtly assist you with your daily tasks, a testament to his unwavering commitment to your well-being.

  ࿔ Nest building - He leaves a whole mess of feathers scattered across his bed, evidence of his restless nature and feral instincts. Some of them bear traces of blood, torn impatiently from his own wings in moments of unchecked impulse. Afterward, he may find himself sore and in need of assistance, perhaps even seeking your help to tend to the wounds inflicted by his own fervor.  ࿔ Seasonal variations: Aggressive Behavior - He won't let his brothers come closer to you until his breeding instincts are gone. They won't try either, none of them wants to be hanged from the ceiling for weeks. Scent Marking - Brushes his feathers against you, imparting a subtle scent that escapes human detection but leaves you enveloped in a warm, weighty sensation. Alternatively, he may press his face into your neck, tracing gentle licks along your skin. As he marks you with his presence, you notice a distinct shift in the demeanor of other demons, since no one wants to defy Lucifer himself by getting too close. ㅤAnd of course, an intense craving to ravage you at least 3 times a day. ㅤ

⌞Territorial Behavior⌝

࿔ Aggressive displays/Territory defense: Lucifer wanders around the house when he has free time. Not just casually walking tho, he makes guttural sounds and stomps heavily. No one dares getting out of their room when he is passing the corridor. ㅤ

⌞Sleeping and Resting Patterns⌝

You see, there isn't Day/Night in devildom, just emptiness and darkness, so we are using as reference, RAD's daily activities to measure time. Class time being the morning, class end being twilight and after dinner being night.

 ࿔  Nocturnal (active during the night). The avatar of pride hates waking up early in the morning, he gets more active at night, and you can see a slight change in his behavior at this time, getting more chill than normally. ㅤ

⌞Bad/Creepy habits⌝

  ࿔ Lucifer loves classical music, especially cursed records. Do not dare come close to the music room when his songs start playing, or you might end up piercing your own eardrums, trapped in an unstoppable curse. ㅤ

⌞Defense Mechanisms⌝

  ࿔ Lucifer has the power to hear through walls and can teleport behind someone if they say his name out loud to check why he is being mentioned.

  ࿔ Possesses a remarkable immunity to the majority of poisonous substances found within Devildom. Similarly, he remains largely unfazed by the powers wielded by angels. Only the most ancient and powerful curses have any hope of affecting him. ㅤ

⌞Hygiene and Grooming⌝

 ࿔ Self-grooming: Grooming, or preening, is the meticulous art of cleaning and maintaining various parts of the body. Lucifer, in particular, dedicates himself to keeping his feathers impeccable, adhering to a strict schedule of cleaning every three days. This meticulous task demands much of his time and attention, occasionally leading him to fall asleep in the middle of his grooming rituals. ㅤ

⌞Playful Behavior⌝

 ࿔ How do they release stress? For Lucifer, playing the piano serves as a refuge where he can lose himself in the soothing melodies, calming his mind and easing the burdens of his responsibilities. However, if one were to delve into his more sinister forms of stress relief, a scene of horror awaits. He takes perverse pleasure in seeking out the terrified sounds of lost humans, reveling in their fear as he approaches, a dark satisfaction coursing through him at the sight of their trembling forms. Proud of the intimidating aura he exudes, Lucifer finds solace in the knowledge of his power and dominance over those who dare to cross his path. "Yes, scream, let me hear how much it hurts when I devour you. I could do this all day" ㅤ

⌞Human Interaction⌝

  ࿔ Responses to human presence: Annoyed, he doesn't understand why such an important demon as himself needs to be in the same ambient as an insignificant mortal. Won't attack unless you trespass his boundaries, but will threaten the hell out of you.

  ࿔ Domestication behaviors: None. Jk jk, he has his soft spots, but hides them very well. Give him some ultra-rare cursed vinyl. Or worship his boots. He will pretend it doesn't affect him, but seeing you bend down to his feet? That makes him excited. If you manage to earn his trust and affection, a rare privilege indeed, you may find him unexpectedly responsive to your touch. A shiver courses through him, and a near-purr escapes his lips when you scratch the base of his horns, a gesture that elicits a subtle display of pleasure from the typically composed demon lord.

Hope you guys enjoyed, please give me your opinions! Sorry for any grammar mistakes ＞﹏＜ Check my Creepy AU masterlist for more content!

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[psychedelic-ink]

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐓.

DAY FIVE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

pairing: animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, romance, cottagecore, fantasy au

summary: you decide to take a swim in a lake that is deep in the middle of the forest. during your swim, pero finds you, and he's not happy that you went out alone during a full moon.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: breeding, marking, biting, does this count as monsterfucking if he's just human with wings and two cocks, pero has two cocks, despite the warnings this is actually quite soft, double penetration, praise kink, soft!dom pero, possessive!pero, creampie

a/n: during this i learned that some bird species have two cocks. you're welcome for this information and thank you for voting in the poll dfvdfvf (also i didn't edit this so sorry about that ily all)

The moonlight beckons you. It always has and always will. You watch as the water effortlessly brings the white light pouring from above with gentle waves kissed by the calm breeze. That same breeze rustles the leaves of dark trees. You’re not afraid of the darkness anymore. Haven’t been since you moved out from your family home, away from those who want to stifle you and silence you. 

Your steps are soft as you near the lake, the ends of your dress brushing the grass. You feel a predatory gaze taking in the sight of you, he’s in the shadows, enjoying the show. 

Your grumpy companion, if you will. 

Slowly, you drag the back of your hands up your waist and trace the pads of your fingers over the sweetheart neckline of your bodice. You lower them, feeling the rich ribbons holding the entire dress together. 

With one swift movement, you pull one thread and the rest comes down, pooling at your feet. 

You enter the lake, it’s cold but not cold enough that you’d want to jump out. You exhale a shaky breath and swim deeper, turning in the water, you observe the full moon. 

A rustling fills the silence. And feather-like steps are heard. Your feet sway underwater as you float upright. What captures your gaze first are a set of deep brown eyes that are too human to belong to a beast. 

Then you notice the fur, the pointed nose, and the snarl that shows white pointy teeth. The beast steps closer, paws large enough to cover your entire face. You swim close to the edge of the lake, your feet move against the thickness of water, you want to place your arms over the ground to brace yourself but decide against it. He’s angry, you can feel it, you just don’t know why yet. 

He stops at the edge you refuse to brace yourself against and leans down, his wide nuzzle an inch away. He inhales and exhales deeply, the force of his breath nearly drying your skin. He still bares his teeth towards you and you notice the faint traces of blood over his dark fur. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls, the deep voice echoing in your head. “It’s the full moon it’s dangerous.” 

“There are no people here.” 

His tongue darts out to move over his teeth, eyes watching you carefully, “It is not the people I fear, little soul.” 

With a sudden need to be close to him, you bury your fingers into the thick neck of the beast and urge him to come closer until your forehead is pressed firmly against his. He doesn’t close his eyes but you do. He’s incredibly warm; a faint scent of lavender and blood clings to his skin. 

“Join me,” you murmur. He watches you curiously for a moment before nodding and taking a step back. You revel in watching his transformations. His eyes finally flutter closed, a dark purple mist surrounding him, he lets out an audible breath. 

You first see the wings; dark and lush, they spread to his sides before folding back. 

Then you see the rest of him. Sunkissed skin, broad chest, and a stomach that has gotten rounder ever since he met you—a sign of a life with balance. Even though you have them memorized, your eyes dart over every faint scar that is scattered all around his torso. You love them. Tracing your tongue over every since one, the lightened patches of skin reminding you of stars. 

Pero steps forward, naked as the day he was born, soft cock hanging between strong thighs, he approaches the lake. And you. 

“I am still mad,” he grumbles, his accent thicker now that he’s using his actual voice. “You did not tell me you were going to come here.” 

“I knew you would find me.”

He doesn’t say anything and slowly submerges into the water, his wings follow him in the water like a mermaid's tail. You frown when he turns his back, his back tense and shoulders raised, you come closer and begin to cup water and release it over his wings. A shudder crawls up his spine, the delicate limbs playfully twitching despite his anger. 

“Just because I did not kill you the first time—” 

“Or the second.” 

He grunts, “Or the second—” 

“Or the third.” 

“¡Suficiente!” his wings raise higher and he turns viciously, the same anger you saw in him as a wolf returning full force. “This is not a game. There are creatures out there that won’t hesitate to rip you shred to shred.” 

Pero forces you to swim until your back hits the shore, the lake’s depth surpasses you both, yet he manages to towards over you. 

“Pero. . .” 

“You do not know what is out there but I do,” he snarls. “I am one of them.” 

He places a hand over your chest, blunt nails biting into the skin right above your heart. The curve of his nose brushes against yours. Underwater, you feel the heft of his cock pressed against your stomach, it takes you everything not to moan and rub yourself against him like a dog in heat. 

“What you don’t understand,” he hisses, voice dangerously low. “This heart belongs to me now—Not yours, fucking mine.” 

He pins your hips together, knocking the air from your lungs, your jaw drops and all you can do is stare. Instinctively, you legs press together, the lack of motion threatening to pull you under the moonlit lake. Pero doesn’t allow it, however, both his hands drop to your waist, keeping your head barely above the surface. 

You feel the brush of his lips on your cheek. 

“That muscle that pumps blood in your veins and keeps you alive. . .  it is not strong enough to take the attack of claws and teeth, or something worse. You owe it to me to keep it alive. You owe it to me to let me know of late-night dips, after making me fall for such a susceptible creature.”  

You close your eyes, your heart racing in your chest. You have no idea how he’s been around, centuries perhaps, he’d never told you. But you know it was a lonely life, to be gifted with the remarkable talent of turning into every animal imaginable only to cease to be human, for that talent, which was thought to be a gift, seep into the essence of your humanity. 

His gaze wanders over your countenance. You feel the heaviness of it. Finally, you open your eyes and bring your thumb over to the scar that goes over his eye and stroke it gently. The ridges of puffy skin catch against the pad of your thumb and you swallow.  

"You are not actually scared, are you? Of me?" he murmurs.

You smile, “Never,” you brush your lips together. “And you’re right. I’m yours. Sorry for wandering off. I honestly was just looking for you, I missed you and knew you’d trace my scent.” 

You scratch his jaw, the short hairs tickling your skin. He observes you a second longer before cracking a smile and nuzzling your neck, you feel teeth on your skin as he rocks his hips forward. “I’ve missed you too, my sweet soul.” 

Before you know it he’s hauling you both out of the lake, laying you over the velvet grass. The soft blades tickle your skin. Pero lies next to you, propping himself up on his elbow, he allows his eyes to devour you whole. His wings stretch over you both like the night sky, long and wide, you swallow as you ache to touch them—to feel their softness on your fingertips. 

“You like my wings,” he states, an observation. You nod and a wing descends, the tip of the feathers moving down the valley of your breasts and over to your stomach. You hold your breath as it inches closer to your clit, and you spread your legs without a second thought. “So obedient,” he murmurs. “Or is this your way of apologizing to me, hermosa?” 

The brush of feathers between your legs halts the words that were about to spill. Your body arches, a loud gasp tearing from your throat. The subtle touch makes your body sing for him, begging him to touch you with force. Enjoying your pain driven from pleasure, he continues to play with you with the end of his wing, and you enjoy the sight of slick smearing against the feathers. 

“Perhaps it’s both,” you murmur, sliding your hand down his torso and cupping his cock. You wrap your fingers and where he would groan eagerly, he turns rigid. Thinking that he’s still angry, you swipe a thumb over the head and move down. 

Something else hits your hand. Something hard like the one in your palm.

“P-Pero. . .” you look up to him. He grunts in acknowledgment, waiting for your question. You move your hand again to make sure what you’re feeling is correct, your fingers slip between two heavy cocks, one of them decked in soft, tiny feathers. You let out a strangled sound. “Do—Do you have two cocks right now?” 

He clears his throat. Normally you’d find the flush of his cheeks and his loss for words cute but you’re in shock. You’ve been with him many times before and never did he have two cocks. 

And there was no way you missed one. 

“It only happens once a month,” you squeeze the feathered one and he groans, hips thrusting to feel the softness of your palm. “It is. . . a side effect.” 

“Side effect of what?” 

“Of whatever the hell I am,” he answers bitterly. “It is for breeding. The. . . feathers they’re not actually feathers, they heighten the pleasure of a female and make them more. . . fertile.” 

A beat of silence. 

While you’re at a loss for words, you continue to stroke him, and indeed he was right. The soft things you deemed as feathers left a flowery-scented substance on your palm. Your lids flutter at the scent, your heart feeling light and full of want. 

The mere thought of Pero filling you is enough to have your cunt drooling for him. And he must’ve sensed it because his eyes darken and his wings hide you from the watchful gaze of the moon. 

He thrusts a little harder than, the bulbous head of his second cock hitting your wrist, “You like it?” he nips at your chin and cups your mound, slipping two fingers inside with ease. “I would want nothing more to fill this pretty little cunt up with all of me, but are you sure?” 

Pero skims his teeth down your neck, “I never had someone during the full moon.” 

“Then I’m happy your first,” you grind into the heel of his palm, moaning, when he presses hard against the bundle of nerves. “I want you, Pero. All of you. I want to feel you for days.” 

“Oh, preciosa, you’ll be feeling me for centuries.” 

There’s something exceptionally filthy being on all fours in the middle of the forest with Pero fucking his tongue into your sopping entrance. 

He’d been going at it for at least half an hour, you lost track of time during your forth orgasm, the ground beneath soaking your essence. His mouth, his fingers, he spared no expense in working you open. His mustache chafed your skin as he stuffed you full with three fingers, scissoring them while being knuckle deep. 

“Pero—I—I need—” you break down, tears streaming down your face. It’s too much. You don’t know how much you can take it. “Please.” 

“You think you are ready to take me?” he kisses the lips of your cunt long and slow, the tip of his tongue tracing your folds. “Poor thing. Did I tire you out already?” 

“I—I just want your cock. . .s,” you say, yet you still follow his mouth with your hips when he moves away. He suddenly flips you to your back, the force of it knocking the air from your lungs. 

“Say it again,” he growls. “Say it.” 

“I want your cocks,” you sinks his teeth into your neck, his regular cock brushing your folds. “I want all of you, Pero. Breed me.” 

“Fuck,” he rasps, his tone frustrated. “Fuck—Of course, bebita, I’ll breed you so fucking good. Then I’ll fuck you again and again, until you are round with me,” something dark flashes in his eyes when you whimper. “You are making it really hard to go slow.” 

You cry out again, purposefully grinding against his cocks, his eyes roll back and he momentraily loses himself, thrusting forward—

You both moan in unison; you, from being stretched around the girth of him, and him from how easily he slides inside of you, the tight fist of your cunt wrapping deliciously around his lenght. 

Pero begins to fuck you with shallow thrust and your eyes roll back. You can’t imagine how good it’s going to feel when you have both of them inside. You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, his very being towering over yours. You clench around him as his thrusts become deeper, a gush of wetness soaking him. He presses his sweaty forehead against yours, his chest heaving, he holds your gaze. 

“I’m going to slide in the other one now,” he kisses your lips and pulls away. Your eyes drift to his wings that stretch again. He pulls back his hips and when he pushes back again there’s an added pressure. A mixture of moans and pained hisses bounce behind clenched teeth, your finger curling into the dirt. Pero waits for you to adjust to both of him, his voice dripping with adoration. “You’re taking me so well. So good for me, my sweet little human, always wet and ready.”   

When your body relaxes around him, he presses forward. The feel of his other cock is different, that feather like texture tickles your walls, the prickles quickly melting into drops of pleasure inside you. A burst of arousal awakens in the pit of your stomach, your eyes go wide, your legs spreading further until the tendons begin to ache. 

“Please, please, please,” you cry out, hands grasping his forearms. “Fuck me, fuck me—shit—what is this?” 

Pero pins your hips to the ground, “Calm down, you are going to hurt yourself,” a heavy scent of lavender fills your nostrils, more liquid dripping from your core. “Like I said, it adds to the pleasure but I am only half way in, mi amor. You need to be patient so I can fuck you properly.” 

Your chest heaves, lungs collapsing, you taste salt on your tongue, “Okay. . .” you whisper. “Okay.” 

“Such a good girl,” he coos, but despite that, he doesn’t release your hips. “Taking two cocks at once so beautifull. I wish you could see yourself,” his thumb traces where you two connect, then he begins drawing languid circles around your clit and your entire body loosens momentarily. He bruises himself deeper with small thrust. “So close, just a little bit more and you’ll have them both inside of you.” 

Pero’s large hand caresses the swell of your stomach, you smile at him with a dazed smile, “Just a little bit more.” 

You know he’s fully sheathed from the sounds he make, something between a growl and a moan. The stretch you feel is immaculate. You feel so full. Both cocks twitch  uncontrollably inside, the sensation shortening your breath. Sweat beads at his foreahead, fingers biting into your flesh as he tries to stop himself from ruining you completely. 

When you cradle his cheeks, his eyes snap at you and he bares his teeth. It might’ve been tricks of the night, but you sweat his pupils become dark diamond before returning to normal. His wings flutter around you both protectively. 

“There’s no one here,” you say calmly. “I’m all yours.” 

Realization strucks him, his eyes widen, lips parting with a soft exhale. His expression makes you want to laugh. This isn’t the first time you’re telling him this, yet everytime you do he looks at you with the same awe-struck expression. 

Then all hell breaks loose. 

His teeth sink into your neck, his hips relentless as he hammers into you. Wet noises fill the forest. You’re left screaming his name, the burst of pleasure you receive with every stroke mind numbing. You feel so stuffed. Both cocks going in an out of you with embarrising ease, your body is on fire and something devastating begins to build up rapidly inside. 

“P-Pero,” you stutter, slack-jawed. “I’m—I’m going to—” 

“You feel it don’t you,” he sucks a nipple between his lips, tongue lapping the hardened peak. “The way pleasure feels endless and something that you can drown in forever. I have been feeling like that during every full moon. Finally I have someone to fall from the heavens with me—” 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs and pushes them up until your knees graze your forehead. Your spine screams in agony, yet the thickness of having both cocks inside is enough to numb you to it. He goes deeper with every snap, your eyes roll back, ever muscles goes taut right before he pushes you over the edge, your cunt gushing around him as you scream his name, over and over. 

“That’s it, my sweet girl. Come for me,” he buries his head into your neck, fully exposing your body to his weight while he viciously pounds into you. “Fuck, can you feel me?” 

You definitely can—but you can’t form the words. His cocks expand, throbbing and twitching as they both strike that one spot that makes you see stars brighter then the ones above. 

Pero keeps his promise and spills into you, both cocks filling you until your body can’t take anymore and he drips around the edges. Your eyes flutter closed. Your mouth gasping for air, there’s so much, his cock pulsing. He gradually releases your legs, and they drop to the ground, framing his waist. Pero’s face remains buried in your neck, inhaling your scent. 

“Do I smell good?” you joke. 

He hums, “You smell amazing,” he answers. “You smell like me.” 

You want to quip back and say it must not be that good then, but you swallow your teasing for now, admitting to yourseld that you wouldn’t want to smell like anything else. 

“I never want to leave you,” he mutters. “Feels too good.” 

“Then don’t,” you say, clenching around him. You whimper as you feel both cocks still hard inside of you. “Doesn’t look like coming once subdued you anyway.” 

“Say it,” he peels away from your neck, grinning down at you.

“Say what?” 

“That you want me to fuck you again.” 

You roll your eyes. “No way.” 

His grin only wides when he rolls his hips and your words break into a loud, wanton moan. “That is okay, your body speaks for you anyway.” 

Before you can reply, he silences you with a kiss.

[bee-the-loser-recs]

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[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 2 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Summary: You found yourself caught up in the mystery surrounding the patient in room 393.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

Note : Daemon has the same length of hair in this fic

You couldn't really tell what you were feeling. You felt angry but then you denied to yourself that you felt angry because why would you be angry? He wasn't your boyfriend and he was allowed to kiss and fuck whoever he wanted. But then he wasn't allowed to do those things because he was a patient and that was against the rules, yes that's why you were angry. You were angry because he broke the rules. That's all.

“Ummm how did she get caught..what happened?” You asked Mona, prying for the details of the encounter between Daemon and Shyla so she rolled her eyes,

“You know how she gets, Dr. Vis caught her in his room giving him a handjob or something” your face contorted into disgust as you heard that.

Did you really believe you were the only woman around here he was sweet talking to? Nuhuh, not with that face.

“So she's fired for real? They're not going to let her off the hook with a warning?” You asked her so she crossed her arms in response, firing her seemed unnecessary especially when there was a shortage of staff and you didn't think the act between them was non consensual, Shyla was a free spirited woman and Daemon definitely seemed the type to sleep his way around town.

“I don't know, she's in his office right now and he'll decide her fate but we all know how strict he is”

You nodded as she said that before you grabbed your cart to resume your duty for the day. You didn't want to think about it, it was none of your business. You started from room 390 and made way to 393, all while maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, masking any underlying feelings that you may have had about the situation, you knew you had to stay calm and pretend as if this thing between Daemon and Shyla hadn't affected you in the slightest which it hadn't.

As you stepped inside his room with your cart dragging in front of you, from your peripheral vision you could see that he was sprawled out on the bed, of course he didn't have clothes on. He was stretched out comfortably, with his hands resting under his head, exposing his bare chest and other things to the view of anyone who entered the room.

“Put your clothes on or I'd have to report you” you mumbled sternly as you looked around the room, it was unfathomably dirty, it hadn't been cleaned in a week because you weren't allowed to do so during his isolation. You couldn't help but wonder if this stunt he had pulled will finally lend him to the lone ward..

“Report me, see if I care” you heard his smug voice and your jaw clenched but you didn't want to feed into his attitude. You knew that if you were to succumb to the temptation of getting dragged into a verbal spat, it would only lead to further revelation of the annoyance you felt regarding this situation.

Daemon was not oblivious to the fact that you were feeling irritated, you must have heard about him and the woman he didn't even know the name of. He saw that your mood had shifted, and he reveled in the feeling of having the power to affect you emotionally because he was affected by you as well. But then he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable so he got up and pulled his pants on,

As he got up, you approached the bed and went through the routine process of pulling back the sheets, only to notice that something had fallen to the floor in the process. Curious to see what it was, you went down to take a closer look and discovered a feather that caught your attention. It was bigger than your palm, a striking shade of black, with intricate patterns and streaks weaving through the feather,

“Where did you get this from?” You asked him as you finally made eye contact with him but instead of answering you with words he grabbed the feather from between your fingers and crumpled between his palm to throw it away.

“You should go down, it's almost lunch time” you told him sternly “and take a shower, you reek” you glared at him and he couldn't help but chuckle. You had been putting up with his antics for far too long, and it was evident that your patience was wearing thin.

“I don't think so” he mumbled as he approached you and the closer he got the more nervous you became, he didn't actually stink, he smelled really good, woody and earthy, like mahogany.

As Daemon placed his nose dangerously close to the crook of your neck to take a sniff, you immediately pushed him away with a sense of urgency, pressing your hands firmly against his shoulders in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. However, despite your best efforts he didn't even budge an inch, he was strong, very strong.

“You're going to start your cycle in an hour or so” he mumbled as he stepped away and you looked at him all perplexed. He was good at messing with you, but how did he know you were closer to your date? His ability to predict such an intimate detail made you feel vulnerable and exposed,

“What do you use? Definitely not a tampon considering you're an untouched maiden” he whispered in your ear and your ears felt hot with anger you were feeling at the moment. Why did he enjoy riling you up like this?

“You're pathetic you know, whatever happens to you today, you will deserve it”

His smirk disappeared as he heard your venomous words but before you could feel any sort of pity for him you walked past him, grabbed your cart and got the fuck out of his room.

As you walked away, a sense of shame washed over you. You knew that your behavior had been unprofessional and that you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you. You also knew that allowing a patient to affect you in such a manner was unacceptable, and that you had to learn to maintain your composure.

You went to your supervisor Mona and informed her that you were feeling lightheaded all of a sudden and room 393 was left uncleaned. Luckily for you she didn't pry or ask many questions and you were grateful for that.

About half an hour later you sat down on the toilet to stick a pad into your underwear as you felt the familiar churning in your stomach. How did he know? Even if he was messing with you, the timing of his statement seemed almost eerie, as if he had some sort of supernatural insight into your bodily functions.

You couldn't afford the privilege of resting so you popped two painkillers at once and stepped out of your room to grab lunch. As you entered the canteen, you were surprised to see Shyla there. So she didn't get fired huh? You assumed so because she had her work uniform on.

“Shyla? Are you alright?” You asked her and she immediately broke down in tears which left you feeling concerned. As you got closer, you noticed the marks on her neck and it worried you.

“I'm fine I'm fine..” she mumbled between her tears so you caressed her shoulder to comfort her. Despite her words, she didn't seem fine at all. What had transpired in Dr. Vis’s office and how come he hadn't canned her after she was caught fondling a patient?

Later in the day, Dr. Vis called for a meeting and summoned all female employees, including Dr. Lisa, to attend. As you walked into the meeting room, you saw Shyla standing next to Dr. Vis, she looked embarrassed, nervous but also terrified..

“Look at this girl, look at the suffering she has endured because she couldn't suppress her curiosity” Dr. Vis stood before the group, his eyes fixed on Shyla as he spoke. The mark on her neck seemed much darker now, making it apparent even from a distance now.

“Who did this to you child? Tell them” Dr. Vis asked Shyla and you could see her shaking with fear.

“Daemon– the new patient..he did this”

Your eyes widened as she revealed that. That couldn't be right? You knew he was unpredictable with his behavior but you couldn't see him hurting anyone like that but then you had known him for two weeks and he was a patient. A part of you didn't want to believe her words though, it left you feeling confused.

“Take this as a lesson, do not interact with him when you're on your respective duties. Isolation may be the best way to handle him, and his ego must not be fed. Shyla's actions have shown us that his aggression is only fueled by the attention he receives. Shyla here has been a good employee so I'm granting her one more chance but consider this is an official warning, anyone who disregards my instructions will be met with severe consequences” Everyone in the room nodded in understanding, fully aware of the gravity of Dr. Vis's words.

“Go on now, do your jobs” Dr. Vis asked the group so everyone turned around to leave. Except you.

“Why is he free to roam around if he's so dangerous?”

You knew you should have stayed quiet, you knew you shouldn't have intervened for your own good but you couldn't help yourself.

“Oh dear, are you questioning my authority and my treatment plan for the patient?” He asked smugly so you shook your head in response. You didn't want to piss him off and you definitely didn't want to be on his radar.

“No I'm just.. worried about my safety, I'm assigned to his room so I just-”

“You come to me if you feel threatened by him all right?” He told you sternly so you nodded and didn't stretch the conversation.

As you all stepped out of the room you noticed that Shyla hadn't joined the group. You couldn't help but wonder what Dr. Vis was saying to her in private, and if Daemon truly did hurt her the way she claimed. A part of you found it difficult to believe that he was capable of such a thing but that day in his room he had told you something about losing control. What did he mean? You had a plethora of questions and none of the answers..

During tea time you watched him sitting in the corner of the room all alone, you noticed how nobody was even looking his way, not even the patients, perhaps Dr. Vis had a separate meeting with them as well where he had asked them to not interact with him.

Dina gave you a tray of snacks and tea so you looked at her confused,

“You go give this to him..he scares me, he should be in an asylum and not here”

You gulped as she said that so you walked towards his table and placed the tray down. His eyes met with yours and he seemed so utterly sad that your heart clenched immediately for him. Keeping your anger aside, all you wanted to do was hug him so he wouldn't look so sad.

“Have your tea, dinner will be served late tonight” you spoke to him so he nodded, you had to maintain distance from him like you had done with all patients before but something kept pulling you towards him.

Maybe it was his unique charisma, or perhaps his eyes with their intense gaze. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there was an aura of intrigue surrounding him that you couldn't ignore. Despite your best efforts to maintain your professionalism, you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a sense of mystery surrounded him and you wanted to figure him out, you wanted to read him like a book, find out everything he was hiding between those pages.

The next morning when you woke up you found a feather lying near your door that someone must have slipped in from the outside and there was a note as well

“I'm sorry :( ”

That's all it said on the note and it made you smile. Where did he get these feathers from you wondered?

As you wheeled your cart in his room you found him on the bed reading.

He didn't say anything to you but as you approached the bedside drawer to clean it, you felt his eyes on you.

“I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, it was out of line and insensitive” you mumbled softly so he brought his hand forward and grabbed your hand.

The sudden touch surprised you, and you froze for a second, unsure of how to react.

“I deserved it”

You were surprised by the soft tone of his voice, perhaps he was truly apologetic, perhaps he cared a bit as well.

“Why did you hurt her like that?” You asked him as you turned to him finally to gaze into his eyes but your question only caused him confusion..

“What?” he asked

“Shyla” you responded, making his confusion grow.

“What are you talking about?”

“What happened here yesterday between you and her?” He looked away as you questioned him as if he was ashamed.

“I heard a knock on my door, at first i thought it was you” he mumbled so you looked away. Why would you go see him first thing in the morning as if he was your lover? You would never.

“I didn't even know who she was, next thing I know she had her hands all over my cock so I -” you crossed your arms as he said that “I'm a man being deprived of sexual release..what I was supposed to do?”

You bit on your cheeks as he said all that so unabashedly, you could never be so forward about the matters of sex as he was.

“That is all that happened?” You asked him so he sighed.

“I didn't even get to finish, the cunt doctor stormed in and took her away”

You looked him in the eye for a hint of lie or deceit but he seemed genuine and you didn't know who to believe anymore. Why would Shyla lie though? Why would she tell Dr. Vis that he had attacked her? To save her job? Perhaps that could have been a possibility.

“Why don't you use your own capable hands the next time? She could have gotten fired-”

“I didn't invite her. She came onto me and you think I was thinking with my brain at the time?” he asked you with furrowed brows and scowl apparent on his face.

“You should.. especially around here where you are a patient admitted for mental instability, i don't know what's going on here but you need to be careful”

He looked at you confused as you said that but you didn't have time to clear his confusion, you resumed your work before it would get suspicious.

“What kind of bird is that?” You asked him after a while so he gave you a smile.

“What bird?”

“The feathers”

“It's not a bird, it's me, it's from my wings” you sighed as he said that. Every time he said something like that, you were instantly transported back to reality where he was a man who believed that he had the ability to turn into a dragon.

“Okay sure it's yours, ”

“Smile” he mumbled softly so you looked at him.

“What?”

“Please smile, i feel better when you're smiling” your face flushed as he said that and your mouth curved into a smile on its own.

Didn't even have to force it.

Later that night as you laid in bed, you felt confused out of your mind, how did he know you were going to bleed? That was such a random and wild guess, not to mention something very inappropriate to say to a woman he didn't know that well.

You heard a knock on your door so you sat up on the bed, in last two years the only time you had been awakened from the sleep was when a patient was out of control so you were already assuming the worst, but as you finally opened the door, standing in front of you was Daemon, looking as calm and relaxed as ever. For a moment, you were lost for words, wondering why he had come to see you in the middle of the night and that's when you began to freak out.

You'd lose your job if you were caught with him at such late hours.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked him as you peaked your head out the door and looked around to see if someone had followed him, when you didn't see anyone you grabbed his arm to usher him inside, closed the door and then you shoved him against it, this was the first time you had truly observed how tall he was as compared to you, you had to crane your neck up to have a conversation with him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him worriedly, why was he so adamant on being sent to the lone ward? He didn't answer you as you questioned him but he suddenly swept you off your feet and flipped you around until you were cornered against the door. His hands wrapped around your waist, trapping you in his embrace, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours.

You couldn't comprehend how he could have such a high body temperature if he wasn't sick. As he placed his nose between the crook of your neck to sniff you like an animal again you tensed up, your instinct told you to fight him, to push him away, but something in his touch made you hesitate. He wasn't hurting you, he has never hurt you physically,

“It calms me down” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck before he pulled away, the look of confusion visible on your face.

“What?”

“This..your scent, it calms me down”

His fingers curled around hair and you stifled the moan that was threatening to spill out of your throat.

“You need to leave, please, this is not safe for you, it's not good for you” your voice came out in hushed whispers and it only turned him on further,

“Safe for me?” He snickered, “Silly girl, didn't you witness what I did to that poor servant?”

You looked him in the eye as his hand wrapped around your throat, a part of you felt terrified of him but another stayed calm, there was something about him that made it so easy for you to believe that he won't harm you.

“Did you do it?” You asked him so he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefingers.

“What do you think huh?”

“You don't hurt me, why would you hurt a girl for pleasuring you?” you asked him as you built the courage to place your arm on his shoulders, your thumb ran over his collarbone and you could see his breath wavering at the touch.

“Because I'm unstable and unpredictable” he smirked as he noticed your lips trembling slightly, it didn't bother him that perhaps he terrified you a little, you would have been screaming your lungs out if you were actually scared of him.

“You didn't believe him did you? His lies” he asked you so you gave him a small smile,

“So he was lying?”

“You'd believe my words against his? A patient's word as opposed to a doctor's?” he asked you curiously,

“I know i shouldn't”

As Daemon stepped away from you, your eyes were drawn to the chiseled muscles beneath his skin. The sight was almost mesmerizing, and for a moment you found yourself caught up in his physical attractiveness. But you snapped out of it quickly, your senses on high alert as his hand reached into his pocket, extracting something you couldn't see from this distance. When he stepped back toward you with a feather in hand, your heart raced,

He placed one of his arms over your head while he used the feather with another to caress your cheeks, you closed your eyes again as your breath shuddered like a wave, you had never been touched this way, never been made to feel this way,

The sensation of being touched in such a way was completely new to you, and you found yourself wondering if this was what romance was supposed to feel like.

Were you supposed to feel so scared but so aroused at the same time?

As the feather brushed over your lips, the scent of mahogany filled your senses and this time you didn't care about stifling your moan. It smelled like him, the feather smelled like him, he slowly trailed down the feather from your chin to your neck. The nightie you had on gave him enough exposure to your skin to play around with.

You were so easily ruffled, he thought, never been touched, never been pleasured, never allowed a man to touch you like this and the knowledge brought him a great deal of satisfaction but also a strong feeling of protectiveness.

The realization that you had never experienced such intimacy before filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but at the same time, a need to shield you from the cruelties of the world. He knew that he had the power to influence you, to make you feel things that you never thought possible, but he also knew that he must use that power wisely. He felt responsible for you.

When he lowered the feather into your palm, you looked up at him, your eyes hazy with desire. A sense of confusion swept over you, wondering what he expected you to do with the feather.

“Good night” he mumbled softly even though you were frozen in your spot , still reeling into his touch, but then you collected yourself and stepped away from the door so he could leave. He had to before he got caught.

You closed and locked the door immediately as he was gone and then you stood there right against the door to calm down. Your mind still not believing the encounter, knees still felt wobbly, his touch was still afresh on your skin, it reminded you of the dream you had.

Once you were finally broken out of the trance you looked down at the feather properly and your eyes widened in surprise.

It was soft to the touch but it was the shade of the feather that piqued your curiosity all over again. It only intensified the mystery he had surrounding him and it pulled you deeper into his charm.

"Who are you?" You mumbled under your breath as you inspected the feather. It was the same shade of silver as his hair.

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

[trolls-with-tails]

The Black Falcon (Vigilante John Dory AU)

Hello, Trolls fandom! Seeing the influx of John Dory AUs on the rise, I've decided to contribute with my own: an AU where John Dory is a mysterious, deadly vigilante known as The Black Falcon!

More information under the cut:

What is The Black Falcon AU about, exactly?

Like in canon, John Dory revisits the Troll Tree a few years after the disbandment of BroZone, and what he finds absolutely devastates him to the point of turning gray. Discovering that his old home is now abandoned and in ruin, JD is quick to believe that his family lost their lives to the Bergens, and with this revelation, so, too, does is spark the inferno that is his drive for vengeance against the beasts that wronged him.

JD makes his first debut as the terror of Bergentown when a passing Bergen finds him on the day he returned to the Troll Tree. Miraculously, John Dory manages to kill his captor away from the prying eyes of other Bergens, and such a grim twist of fate is what sends him spiraling into becoming the shadowed killer, born of blood and retribution.

For the next twenty years, John Dory continues to haunt Bergentown in secret, picking off the monsters that destroyed his family, his home, and his people one by one by targeting pressure points using a tied needle and crossbow, as well as becoming quite acquainted with different varieties of poisons. Somewhere along the line of his endeavors, he befriends a falcon and names her Striker (having never met Rhonda in this AU, as much as I love her), and using his new companion's pitch black feathers as inspiration, JD sheds his old identity and becomes The Black Falcon.

The John Dory from before has died long ago, and from the bones and ashes, The Black Falcon rises, a harbinger of death and retribution, an omen that sends chills down the spine of any Bergen who hears an utterance of his doings, a quiet and coldly calculative husk of the happy-go-lucky troll he used to be, all in the name of avenging his loved ones.

So what happens when he comes to learn that his brothers and the Pop trolls are still alive?

[kissyghosty]

prompt was "this is going to hurt" but i made it fluffy. silly little wingies au drabble

Simon Riley shows affection in often-subtle ways: Sitting close enough to Johnny to have their shoulders touch. Tangling their legs under the table while they sit somewhere and have coffee. Fussing over John’s hair and feathers, as haphazard as they always are, trying to get them to at least resemble something like intentional style and not “just rolled out of bed and went with it”..

“Christ’s sake,” Simon mutters under his breath as he tries smoothing down flyaways on Soap’s head. “Do you ever do anything with this mop on your head? Or do you just let fate decide how it’ll look for the day?”

“There’s a strategy to it,” Johnny  explains, giggling underneath Simon’’s fussing. He’d never admit it to anyone--except Simon, of course--that being the target of someone’s finicky nitpicking meant more to him than the other would think. It meant Simon currently  is and  previously was paying attention to the little details about him. It just so happened that the detail he focused on was “fixable” by Simon.

“You need to cut this shit shorter,” Simon rumbles under his breath as he sweeps a hand over Johnny’s mohawk. “You’d have a chance at taming it then.”

“It’s fine as is,” he retorts lightheartedly. “As if you don’t have horrible bedhead when you wake up. Not all of us can just don a mask and hide it.” He can tangibly feel Simon’s face twist further into a frown behind his back. He’s about to spit another quip when he feels tugging on his primary feathers, making him flinch automatically.

“Not all of us are hell-bent on looking like wet cats either.”

“That’s a low blow, Simon.” Johnny pouts. “You can’t--”

“Hush.” Simon says sharply. “This is going to hurt a bit.”

“What’s go--” Simon’s fingers dig into his hair and pull, working a stubborn knot out at the expense of John’s state of mind.

“Jesus,” he hisses, reflexively ducking away from the talons Simon suddenly seemed to have instead of fingers. “Warn a man, yeah?”

“I did.”

“You didn’t give me time to process it!”

“I don’t have time to ‘wait for you to process’ everything I say, daft.” While Simon speaks, his fingers smooth over John’s sheer-black feathers, fingers gently twining through fluff. It instantly calms Johnny down, making him damn near slump over as he revels in the feeling. “At least you look presentable now.”

A slurred mumble is all Simon’s met with. “I’ll forgive you for now.”

[riddles-fiddles]

Pspspsp MC with a royalty kink and wants to act out this fantasy with Rook Hunt. Afab please:)

I am hearing you out. I'm pretty sure Rook does have a royalty kink as well, though he would rather take the paper of a knight, a bard, hunter, or any other kind of servant lmao

Au Clair de la Lune (+18)

Synopsis: Rook partakes the role of a loyal knight who's eager to please and show his absolute devotion to you. Charcaters: Rook Hunt Tags: royalty kink, praise kink, worship, oral sex, most foreplay Notes: AFAB gender neutral reader, 1k word count, everyone is 18+ Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Rook rests his forehead down to the back of your hands, the ones which he holds with deepest esteem - like they are a pair of jewels with indefinable value. "I thank the grace you bestow upon this humble knight," his voice is a melody of sincere devotion, lips ghosting over your skin. "I'm grateful for allowing me to taste your skin, your higness."

As his eyelids flutters open, his gaze is captivated by the way you stand there, a mighty and imposing figure sat on the throne - the bed you two shared - as the moonlight hugged your curves with lavender outlines, enhancing the strands of hair shadowing your features, the way your shoulder curved slightly to the front, an uncoscious gesture to your desires.

He revels on your beauty, the way your stern gaze looks back down on him paralyzing his heartbeat; the feeling of being merely a pawn to your orders sending thrills down his spine. Rook has the heart of a poet and the desire to please of a servant, and being by your disposal was enough for him - his merciful, generous ruler.

Rook reserves his duteous instance; knee firm against the floor, hat pressed against his chest in a chivalrous way, his sharp eyes are cloudy with restrained lust, resigned on your next demand.

"Your obedience is commendable," a gracious smile paints shyly between Rook's lips at your words, his features softening in antecipation for your approval. "But it's not quite enough to prove your loyalty to my reign." With a low tilt of his head, Rook glances over your majestic face with inquisitive silence while his hands traveled down to your thighs, his gloved digits a feather brushing along the lines of your knees before tracing the design of your ankles. The gesture was careful and zealous, as if he was touching a monumental paiting - because in his point of view, that's what you are anyway.

"I beg your pardon, my sovereign. Allow me to correct my unfit behaviour."

Rook gently enveloped the back of your sole, bowing down to press an affectionate kiss over the curve of your feet, his warm breath tickling on your skin as the gesture left a lingering, warm feeling over your exposed skin. Taking his time, his lips climbed with passionate devotion over the same trail his fingers had previously marked on your body, his contented sighs a sweet incantation.

You reveled on the silent worship that Rook incited over your skin, wordless promises of his love and desire for you spreading to your nerve endings with every new kiss. His confident gaze met yours by a flickering moment, the sight of his face resting against your skin as he held your thigh with adorational attentiveness making you sigh in antecipation, heart skipping a beat as you marveled at the raw emotions shared between you two. Though you played a stern facade with your uptight words, there was no concealing of the way your body naturally responded to Rook's touch, practically melting against the contrast of his warm lips and the cold leather of his gloves.

Slowly, your thighs parted, revealing your bare core. Rook admired with contented surprise as you did so, tongue dewing over his lips in antecipatio with hunger glistening over his indigo eyes, gladly coming up to meet yours as you held his chin up, grip possessive and urging. "Prove your devotion to me, Rook," your voice lingered like a sweet spell hummed into his ear. "Bring pleasure to your majesty."

"Oui, mon majesté. Votre commande est mon plaisir."

Rook readily removes his gloves, laying them on the floor right beside his hat. His lean, firm hands come to rest on your soft inner thighs before leaning in, pressing a kiss over your clit, tongue spreading the folds. He gently sucks the sensitive bud over his tongue before pressing down, circling around as he alternated between different kinds of stimulation.

Your gratified sigh beckons him further. Rook brings two of his slender fingers to your wet core, slowly pressing down as he kept his mouth occupied with your clit, languish laps being contrasted by the intense, eventual sucking.

His heart jumps with delight as your pleased groan fills his ears, a hand coming to grip on the back of his head before pulling him closer, breath hitching slightly by the feeling of your hips bucking up, desperate for more friction.

His tongue is quick to match the pace you so desperately urges to find, rolling around the bundle of nerves in reverse to your motion as his fingers thrusted inside you slowly - teasing your sweet spot by pressing his digits against the soft area everytime he pushed them deep inside you.

You cry his name out like a prayer as your back meets the bedsheets, pleasure quickly turning overwhelming. Taking advantage of it, Rook positions both of your legs over his shoulders, lifting your hips slightly from the bed to get better access to your sensitive area; skilled, lean fingers rolled deep into your core, building pressure beneath your abdomen. The wet sounds that resonated shamelessly through the room, Rook's slurps and the merciless slapping of his fingers against your slick core sent shivers down your spine, your orgasm nearing its peak as your eyes fixed on the man's focused face.

And with a final, rough thrust, Rook's finger curls agains, sending an aggressive jolt of pleasure all through your body, making your back arch and your thighs close around his head. Rook can feel your orgasm shaking you from head to toe, but his mouth doesn't cease until your body finally starts to relax, too enthralled by the way you squirm under his touch, a shudder of veiled excitement mixed with satisfaction running over his own skin at the prospect of being the one responsible for your climax. His tongue savours the taste of your cum, and as you lift your head, a panting mess from the overwhelming explosion of senses, your flushed face greets Rook's confident yet messy grin, his face glistening with your slick all over. Still, he looks absolutely overjoyed, licking the mess from his lips greedily. "My precious, terrific knight," you sing the praises in soft, panting whispers, your grip easing around his hair in gentle caresses. "Your devotion is undoubtedly unmatched. Come, allow your ruler to reward your efforts." Rook's smile widens, his whole being flourishing with a chaotic mix of love, gratitude, pride and excitement by your sincere praises, quickly lifting himself from the ground to taste your mouth he so much longed for.

[bunningchaos]

［*.... You hear a commotion of some sort.］

［*Out of sheer curiosity... You decided to ask.］

↼Nil • Next⇀

［*Would you like to partake?］

［More information down below if so.］

Kindly don't repost, trace or claim these characters + comic as yours. Thank you.

Every single characters here, belongs to me (BunningChaos)

Important : This will begin at 5th of December as I need time to finalize the Christmas outfits of every Safe Haven characters.

Alongside needing additional time to draw out the few starting panels(comic?).

Hihi, thanks for your interest so far!

(No I'm not dropping the main Asks for Safe Haven, but I do plan on focusing more on Christmas related stuff for the month of December.. or just pure tomfoolery in regards to the characters.)

Without further ado, this is basically going to be what I'd call a 'Interactive Event' primarily revolving around the Safe Haven's residences and their preparation to set up for Christmas.

You can simply ask them questions like usual! Orrr.... Even better!

Indulge them with shenanigans, or assist them with their preparations! The choice is yours to make, or should I say... Your character's choice.

To explain further, participation is pretty simple! Just drop off a Ask or a Reply under this post, with your character's name and preferably, a link to their reference sheet or a image of them.

..Oh and also, unless they already have a pre-designed Christmas outfit, or if it is mentioned what it is preferred to be. I'll be putting them in simple possibly ridiculous Christmas sweaters

Unless you'd want to make some sort of drawing/post with them entering in a dramatic manner or however they wish to. Otherwise most, and if not all guests will be showing up by the door or something like that

Oh, of course. This isn't limited to just OC's, it's possible to drop in pre-existing characters! An example would be Passive Nightmare and Dream, but in this case. Anyone can control those characters, via Asks or in the Replies.

...Though I'm not exactly sure how this would end up, This IS my first time doing these kind of things.

There's two ways this can go!

1) Like mentioned with the pre-existing characters, the creator's of specific character that drops their own creation in, can control their character to do as they please! Via the usage of the Ask box or by the handy replies of each post

Please don't burn down the entire house though

2) ..Unlikely? I'm not sure, someone else is to possibly do a 'response/reaction' drawing or post. Then I follow up on it afterwards.

Of course, again, I wouldn't know how this will turn out. But it could be fun so I decided to include it

[kudouasagi135]

pharaoh!Shinichi au

So this is some of my folklore that I had bent into a Kaishin au and I wanted to get this idea out of my head.

So here it goes:

Kaito is a 29 years expert Egyptologist who went to the Valley Of Kings in Egypt for more research about the infamous king Tutankhamun but had stumbled upon an undiscovered Tomb covered in sand, he decided to enter the underground tomb himself to only take a look at the structure only to find it to be a small tomb and seemingly one not for a great pharaoh.

Kaito then reads on the wall the normal warnings written on all tombs: The tomb was protected by the curse of the pharaoh.

Kaito then realised that, unlike other tombs, the warnings didn't mention a name, which was weird, all Egyptian tombs had the name of the buried pharaoh at the beginning of the sentence, but the tomb seemed old enough to be as old as the pyramids. If the tomb didn't mention a name then either the pharaoh didn't rule for long, or he was a hated king.

Or he just had a tragic story like Tut.

Upon venturing more, the air started to become heavy and Kaito knew he was getting closer to where the king was buried.

He found a sarcophagus made of stone at last, and when he opened it to find the mummy, he was shocked.

The mummy had its eyes opened and Kaito thought for a second that it was looking at him but then he was like "Nah! he died from over 2000 years, stupid mummy, that scare took years of my life."

When Kaito attempted to read the name engraved on the inside of the sarcophagus, his sight blurred, lost his balance and fell. When he got up to his feet, he found himself in the Duat. The underground world.

Kaito then realised he had died! And was sent to the underground for judgment upon entering the Pharaoh's tomb.

After making his journey through the Duat he finally reached the Hall of Maat. Here, the purity of the dead would be the determining factor in whether they would be allowed to enter the Kingdom of Osiris. A judge hall. Kaito realised there was an extra member in the hall who wasn't supposed to be there according to his studies, but with the command of Maat to speak and do his expected job, he revised in his head what the deceased were tasked to do here and did as he remembered.

The deceased's first task was to correctly address each of the forty-two Assessors of Maat by name while reciting the sins they did not commit during their lifetime.

Kaito was able to address each one of them correctly but stumbled when he reached the member who wasn't supposed to be there. He bowed in apology as to express he didn't know him.

Maat then said the most shocking revelation, "This is the pharaoh who you had disturbed."

And that made Kaito feel guilty right away.

After that, Kaito was presented with the balance that was used to weigh their heart against the feather of Maat. If Kaito's heart balanced with the feather of Maat, Thoth would record the result and he would be presented to Osiris, who admitted them into the Sekhet-Aaru. However, if his heart was heavier than the feather, it was to be devoured by the Goddess Ammit, permanently destroying the soul of the deceased, and ceasing to exist.

And to his bitter luck (thanks to the Kaito KID work he did in his teenagers) the heart was heavier.

And before his heart was fed to Admit, the pharaoh he had disturbed spoke up. "Wait a minute, Maat. I have another idea for him. He had been a criminal, but his goal was to destroy a whole gang that was more of a threat, and he did succeed in that, bringing the light to all those who were brutally murdered by the sinful hands of those criminals, feeding his heart to Maat feels unfair to me. Especially after all that he must have endured to cast the light on the truth."

Kaito didn't know how this young pharaoh knew all this, but this was working in his favour somehow.

"However, robbery is also considered a sin and an unforgivable mistake to make, especially with all the known consequences. And punishment is unavoidable, especially after disturbing a king's rest."

Okay, he withdrew his thoughts about this working for him.

"But since we need to reconnect our power to the real world and regain all knowledge that was lost, I suggest the idea to rebirth Kuroba Kaito's soul into his teenage body before he started his criminal activity, and for his punishment to drop completely, he has to catch those filthy criminals over again but without resorting to any criminal thoughts or actions."

Wait, what?

Maat then looked at the young pharaoh with inquiry "But to ensure Kuroba Kaito doesn't return to his criminal activity, we need an eye on him. That's impossible given our situation."

The pharaoh then gave Kaito a look, and Kaito was momentarily mesmerized by how sharp and intelligent these azure blue eyes were, he seemed determined and sure of his words.

"Then I'll do the pleasure of watching over Kuroba Kaito as the pharaoh of justice representing Maat on the lands of living. I'll get resurrected in my body and watch over him and live with him as a guard and a messenger for you all to resure Kuroba Kaito doesn't do anything of his criminal past ever again."

Kaito couldn't believe his ears, and felt like fainting right there.

He couldn't even believe it more when Maat agreed, after some hesitation.

"Then, Kuroba Kaito, do you agree to relive your teens and remove your sins from all minds, or would you prefer to let Ammit eat your heart, ceasing your existence?"

He chose the former, and when he reopened his eyes, he was inside his room, he ran to the mirror and saw his teenage face, and to his right, was the pharaoh, who looked bemused.

"Thanks to me now you have more years in your life you stupid thief."

And that's how Kaito earned himself a new roommate, and a new chance to correct everything.

[prussianbluepuppy]

✨What up it’s Wing AU 🦅✨

Ghoap HCs

Simon, who was born with blond feathers, going through all that trauma and stress until his wings turn white. Unsettling but adds to the image of being Ghost. Covers them in ash and soot for stealth ops. Has become eerily good at keeping his wings still on base to not drop dark dust in a trail on the floor.

Johnny, who has naturally dark wings that Ghost is definitely not jealous of, by contrast is always fidgeting his wings. If he wasn’t so expressive in the face you can read his mood by his wings. It makes his joints ache to ponder how Ghost keeps his wings so still.

Soap, who understands but is no less appalled Ghost covers his wings in black powder and does the bare minimum to preen them after the op.

Dad!Price is real, and he’s the only one Ghost will consider letting help preen his wings. That is, until Price is away doing recon when Ghost and Soap return from a weeks long mission, and Simon’s wings are in a sorry state and he’s exhausted, cleaning them will take hours and—and Soap offers. Genuine and without even the notion of holding it over Ghost’s head. He accepts; he regrets doing so the first few minutes when he keeps flinching and looking over his shoulder for an enemy that Soap isn’t. Soap is patient, though, minding whatever boundaries Ghost seems to have and after a while something must click because the tension just bleeds out of Ghost’s shoulders.

Price begins to notice after a while Simon hasn’t asked him for help in a couple months but his wings are looking quite tidy these days.

It’s a happy, albeit quiet, revelation for Price and Soap when the white feathers slowly molt out, and Ghost’s wings turn sandy blond.

Johnny loves doing silly things with molted feathers, like use them for bunny ears, or a mustache.

Ghost about had a heart attack after nobody noticed in the chaos of a mission Soap had broke several blood feathers and the man passed out in the chopper back to base, not immediately evident he hadn’t been shot.

Soap, who drops his wings in the field when they aren’t immediately needed to keep them from being targets. Ghost, who fans his out to make himself even bigger and give Soap cover, which would stress Soap out if he knew

General

Price does not at first lean into being the team Dad, but eventually accepts his fate. Sometimes when the boys need cheering up he’ll drape a wing over their heads; sometimes to mess their hair up when they push it off, sometimes to let the curtain of feathers be a buffer if they need to hide in his shoulder for a sec. Ghost only gets the dad wing when he’s sitting down, he’s too tall. He’ll lean into Price’s side for a sec tho, take a breath that smells like cigars and spicy aftershave and feel a little better.

Price has owl-type wings; silent, fluffy, heavy, and can do that thing owls do to look twice as big. Has done it to shield Gaz in the field.

Shepherd has turkey-type wings. Domestic turkey-type wings. Being called Eagle is denial in the shape of a patriotic ego-boost.

Graves has Red-tailed hawk-type wings.

Alejandro and Rodolfo both have eagle-type wings, albeit different colors, and it pisses Graves off they’re so cool.

König has ridiculous, hilariously large swallow-type wings. They make him super agile for his size in the sky, but doors are a bit of a hurtle.

Gaz and Soap will make bets on flying stunts when they are drunk and then vehemently deny that’s why they’re hurt the next day despite everyone seeing them do said stunts.

Gaz has fallen asleep under the Dad Wing.

Laswell uses her wings as a lap blanket during meetings. She eventually shows the men how to fold them to sit on their laps and then just about every briefing has professionally trained soldiers paying wrapt attention, wings in their laps keeping their hands warm.

“Good job Flock, return to Nest.” “Copy, RV with the helo?” “Affirmative, my wings are killing me; let that bird do the flying.”

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

More of my pirate AU ? More of my pirate AU.

Swiss :

His shirts are always opened so obscenely wide he might as well be shirtless.

He has a collection of hats with tons of different feathers to decorate them (everyone keeps stealing borrowing them)

Loves watching the sunset/sunrise. Even after years of witnessing the water seemingly catch fire each morning and evening, he claims it's still the most beautiful thing he'll ever get to see. (He can't help but think about Dewdrop whenever he watches it)

Mist :

Loves storms. Lives for the adrenaline of maneuvering the ship through mountain-tall waves and a wind that seems to have a mind of its own. The claps of thunder are her favorite melody, the bolts of lightning tearing through the dark sky paint a picture she can never get enough of, and as for the pouring rain, she revels in it.

She jumps out the water like a dolphin when she's in a good mood, somtimes races around the ship with Delta.

Phantom :

Everything shiny will end up in his posession. Constantly wears several necklaces heavy with trinkets and little things he stole picked up because they caught his eye. (Despite that, you only ever hear the clinking sound of his necklaces if he wants you to. Otherwise, he has no problem sneaking up on anyone.)

His coat is full of hidden pockets, no one knows precisely what he hides in there and now they're kind of scared to ask.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Ringmaster's Guide

a character guide for my TADC Dungeons & Dragons AU! this was originally gonna be the characters in the same universe, just LARPing the game, with Caine making the terrains and magic and stuff, but then i actually started thinking of backstories for everyone. so now it's a real AU in the DnD universe! (there's no exact full, fleshed-out plot line, and the fics i'm gonna write with this are gonna be random events!)

this guide contains stuff like the gangs' races, classes, designs, abilities, and some fun backstory tidbits ;)

(also even though they're not playing the game, i still included the stats, skills, and some written game mechanics for the vibes!)

RAGATHA

Race: Aasimar (Protector)

Class: Cleric (Order Domain)

Feats: Inspiring Leader, Great Weapon Master, Tough

Resistances: Radiant, Necrotic

—

Mother bear…

Oh, mother bear…

Where has thou cub gone?

—

STATS

HP: 135

AC: 20 (Mithral Plate)

SPEED: 30 ft. walking, 30 ft. flying

STR: 19 (+4) | DEX: 17 (+3) | CON: 18 (+4) | INT: 16 (+3) | WIS: 20 (+5) | CHA: 17 (+3)

Saving Throws

STR: +4

DEX: +3

CON: +4

INT: +3

WIS: +9

CHA: +7

Senses

Passive Perception: 19

Passive Investigation: 13

Passive Insight: 19

Skills

Acrobatics: +3

Animal Handling: +5

Arcana: +3

Athletics: +4

Deception: +3

History: +3

Insight: +9

Intimidation: +3

Investigation: +3

Medicine: +9

Nature: +3

Perception: +9

Performance: +3

Persuasion: +7

Religion: +7

Sleight of Hand: +3

Stealth: +3

Survival: +5

—

Wings like silver, slicing through the sky. Twisting, turning, as graceful as a starling. A dance between earth and sky, a ballet of feathers and air, where gravity’s pull was but a distant memory when up so high.

A tiny squeal of joy. Shining eyes casting downward. Shimmering eyes looking up. 

“Aww, look at you,” she coos to the infant bound to her chest by soft fabric. The baby’s little wings, still covered in fluffy down, are extended fully and flapping gleefully. 

The mother laughs. “Do you think you’re flying?”

“AH!” her infant shouts, wings flapping harder.

Another laugh. She brushes her fingers over her child’s cheek, then looks to the horizon. “One day, this will all belong to you.”

—

WEAPONS/SPELLS

Weapons

- Vicious Glaive

- Crossbow

Spells

- Cantrip: Guidance, Mending, Resistance, Sacred Flame, Spare The Dying

- 1st Level: Command, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Inflict Wounds

- 2nd Level: Hold Person, Spiritual Weapon, Warding Bond, Zone of Truth

- 3rd Level: Mass Healing Word, Revivify, Slow

- 4th Level: Banishment, Compulsion, Locate Creature

- 5th Level: Dominate Person, Flame Strike, Greater Restoration, Hallow, Mass Cure Wounds

- 6th Level: Blade Barrier, Heal

—

The city in the sky is divine and shining. The sky is clear and a crisp blue, not a cloud in sight. Other Celestials dart to and fro, all of them radiant. She sits in the soft grass of one of the many parks, watching as her child toddles around. A guitarist is playing nearby.

It’s peaceful. 

—

CLASS FEATURES/RACIAL ABILITIES

Class Features

Voice of Authority- Ragatha is able to invoke the power of the law to strengthen an ally’s attack. 

Order’s Demand- By raising her holy symbol, Ragatha can charm an enemy through exerting her presence over them.

Destroy Undead- If the will of an undead enemy fails against Ragatha casting Turn Undead, they are destroyed.

Embodiment of the Law- If casting a spell of the Enchantment school, she can quicken the casting time. 

Divine Strike- Ragatha can deal an extra bout of Psychic damage upon hitting an enemy.

Divine Intervention- Ragatha can call upon her deity for aid.

Racial Abilities

Healing Hands- Ragatha’s very touch is nurturing and life-giving. She is able to draw from a wellspring of gentle energy to heal people for a certain amount. 

Darkvision- Ragatha can see in the dark.

Celestial Legacy- Ragatha can cast the Light and Daylight cantrip at will.

Celestial Revelation: Radiant Consumption- Ragatha is able to unleash her full Celestial might on those who dare to test her. A bright, seething light pours from her eyes and mouth, and her very body acts as a beacon, radiating this same searing light in a radius. Any enemy who gets too close is scorched by this holy glow. All weapon attacks do extra Radiant damage. 

Flight- Ragatha is able to fly with her angel wings. 

—

Hunger. 

The whisper of the woods.

A hulking beast - clawing up her insides, biting at her ribs.

—

DESCRIPTION

Background: Acolyte 

Languages: Common, Celestial, Primordial, Elvish

Alignment: Lawful Good

Inventory

Money: 100 GP

- Alms Box

- Amulet (Holy Symbol)

- Baby Blanket

- Bag of Holding

- Blanket

- Box of Incense

- Candle

- Censer

- Crossbow Bolts

- Crossbow, light

- Photograph of her and a small child

- Prayer Book

- Rations

- Reliquary

- Shield

- Tinderbox

- Vestments

- Vicious Glaive

- Waterskin

Aasimar are well-known for their beauty, and Ragatha is no exception. She’s a well-built woman, bearing great muscles for someone of her appearance. Her skin has a lustrous sheen to it. Growing within her curly red hair are shimmering feathers of white-blue. An ethereal light glows in her black left eye, and the right probably would be the same if it weren’t for the fact that it’s been seemingly scratched out; a seething red scar extends down that side of her face, as though she had been struck by a bladed weapon. 

Large, feathered wings extend from her back. They’re a beautiful silver-white color, fading to gradients of blue at their tips.

Strangely, she has sharper teeth and nails than would usually be seen in an Aasimar.

A red blemish, some kind of burn scar, encircles her throat, never to truly heal. 

—

Blood in her eyes. Blood in her mouth. 

Stinging, burning. Vicious pain, and yet the hunger and rage dominate everything.

 So many eyes, watching. 

Circling - a trapped beast. 

Somewhere deep within, a voice screaming, “STOP IT! STOP!”  

—

OTHER

- Lycanthrope (werebear)

—

Mama Bear,

Mama…

Please come home soon.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

JAX

Race: Tiefling-Harengon

Class: Rogue (Thief)

Feats: Shadow-Touched, Mobile, Gunner

Resistances: Fire

—

A fey bathed in infernal fire. Tainted, scorched. Searing flames burning inside and out. 

—

STATS

HP: 63

AC: 15 (Leather Armor)

SPEED: 40 ft. walking 

STR: 13 (+1) | DEX: 20 (+5) | CON: 10 (+0) | INT: 12 (+1) | WIS: 11 (+0) | CHA: 16 (+3)

Saving Throws

STR: +1

DEX: +9

CON: +0

INT: +5

WIS: +0

CHA: +3

Senses

Passive Perception: 10

Passive Investigation: 15

Passive Insight: 10

Skills

Acrobatics: +9

Animal Handling: +0

Arcana: +1

Athletics: +1

Deception: +11

History: +1

Insight: +0

Intimidation: +3

Investigation: +5

Medicine: +0

Nature: +1

Perception: +0

Performance: +3

Persuasion: +7

Religion: +1

Sleight of Hand: +12

Stealth: +12

Survival: +0

—

She tried so hard to raise him to be a good boy. But she always knew he would follow in his father’s footsteps. 

—

WEAPONS/SPELLS

Weapons

- Rapier

- Daggers

- Shortbow

- Revolver

Spells

- Cantrip: Thaumaturgy

- 1st Level: False Life

- 2nd Level: Darkness, Hellish Rebuke, Invisibility

—

The smell of fire and brimstone. Ash dusting purple fur to black. Licking embers off his lips. 

—

CLASS FEATURES/RACIAL ABILITIES

Class Features

Sneak Attack- Jax is able to deal extra damage on attacks he has Advantage for.

Thieves’ Cant- As a Rogue, Jax can speak a language only other Rogues know.

Cunning Action- Jax’s agility allows him to make certain actions sooner than his allies would be able to. 

Fast Hands- Jax can use an item as a Bonus Action instead of an Action.

Second-Story Work- Jax can climb faster than his allies. 

Uncanny Dodge- When Jax can see the attacker who has hit him, he can half the damage. 

Evasion- Jax is able to avoid taking damage from certain attacks if they require a Dexterity Saving Throw.

Supreme Sneak- As long as Jax doesn’t use half of his movement, he has Advantage on Stealth checks. 

Reliable Talent- Jax is able to make the dice fall a little more in his favor. 

Racial Abilities

Darkvision- Jax can see in the dark.

Hellish Resistance- Jax is resistant to Fire damage.

Infernal Legacy- Jax innately knows the Thaumaturgy cantrip and the Hellish Rebuke and Darkness spells.

Lucky Footwork- Just because he doesn’t have the rabbit legs of his Harengon mother doesn’t mean this fella isn’t dextrous. When he slips up or stumbles, Jax’s quick reaction time gives him a chance to steady himself. 

Hare-Trigger- Jax’s fast rabbit reflexes sometimes allow him to strike first in combat. 

—

Too fast for the guards. Too quick for the dogs to catch. Any lock can be broken, and no chains can hold him down for long.

—

DESCRIPTION

Background: Criminal

Languages: Common, Thieves’ Cant, Infernal

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral 

Inventory

Money: 250 GP, 300 SP, 50 CP

- Alchemist's Fire (5)

- Arrows

- Bag of Holding

- Ball Bearings (bag of 1000)

- Beads of Fireball (10)

- Beads of Force (5)

- Bell

- Candle

- Crowbar

- Dagger (2)

- Deck of Many Things

- Grenade, Magical (3)

- Grenade, Smoke (5)

- Hammer

- Icon of Greed

- Lantern, Hooded

- Oil (flask)

- Piton

- Playing Cards

- Poisoner’s Kit

- Potion of Haste (3)

- Potion of Greater Healing

- Pouch of Gemstones

- Rapier

- Rations

- Rope (50 feet)

- Shortbow

- String

- Thieves’ Tools

- Tinderbox

- Vial of Acid (5)

- Waterskin

Anyone who looks at this guy can tell that he’s a hybrid. He’s a tall, lithe young man with a regular humanoid build. His entire torso is covered in thick purple fur that extends to his elbows on his arms and to his thighs on his legs—below that, it’s darker purple skin. Instead of rabbit feet, he has hooves, and his fingernails are sharp claws. Tufts of fur sprout from the base of his long tail, which ends in an arrowhead, before it tapers off to regular skin. His head is completely furry, and he has both the iconic rabbit ears and black horns that curve back over his scalp.  

—

Every jail cell looks the same after a while. None are impressive. And they’re all so easy to get out of. 

—

OTHER

- Son to the Demon of Greed

- Criminal of the state

- Wanted for several crimes

—

Chained to a wall. Slated for execution. Death by beheading. 

Ha.

That’s cute.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

ZOOBLE

Name: Zooble

Race: Simic Hybrid

Class: Barbarian (Path of the Totem Warrior)

Feats: Savage Attacker, Sentinel, Slasher

Resistances: N/A

—

They were someone, once. Normal skin. Normal hair. All their fingers and toes. All their teeth.

But that was a long time ago.

They can’t even remember their name.

—

STATS

HP: 137

AC: 19 (no armor)

SPEED: 40 ft. walking

STR: 20 (+5) | DEX: 16 (+3) | CON: 19 (+4) | INT: 10 (+0) | WIS: 13 (+1) | CHA: 9 (-1)

Saving Throws

STR: +9

DEX: +3

CON: +8

INT: +0

WIS: +1

CHA: -1

Senses

Passive Perception: 11

Passive Investigation: 10

Passive Insight: 11

Skills

Acrobatics: +3

Animal Handling: +1

Arcana: +0

Athletics: +9

Deception: -1

History: +0

Insight: +1

Intimidation: +3

Investigation: +0

Medicine: +1

Nature: +0

Perception: +1

Performance: +3

Persuasion: -1

Religion: +0

Sleight of Hand: +3

Stealth: +3

Survival: +1

—

For a long time, it seemed that they were going to waste away. Life was harsh, and their money was scarce. 

And then, they found their way to the great bronze city. 

Everything changed when they stepped through those giant gates. 

To this day, they still don’t know why they caught the eye of those aristocrats, but they were offered a job. It would give them housing and paid well. 

But there was a catch, of course. Two of them, to be precise. Everything came with strings attached. Nothing was ever that good.

Surprisingly, though, they found themself not minding these “conditions.” If anything, it sounded interesting.

And they did pride themself in their high pain tolerance. 

—

WEAPONS/SPELLS

Weapons

- Greataxe

- Handaxe (2)

- Javelin (4)

Spells

- 1st Level: Beast Bond, Speak With Animals

- 5th Level: Commune With Nature

—

Ow. Ow. OW.

It hurt worse than they were expecting, but the enhancements fit just right. They did well. 

They’ll be fine. 

They’re strong.

—

CLASS FEATURES/RACIAL ABILITIES

Class Features

Rage- Zooble is able to enter a Rage in battle that makes them resistant to Bludgeoning, Piercing, and Slashing damage.

Unarmored Defense- Zooble’s AC is higher when not wearing armor.

Reckless Attack- Zooble can choose to attack heedlessly, giving them an Advantage on the hit, but also giving all enemies Advantage to hit them.

Spirit Seeker- Zooble has an attunement with the natural world. They are able to cast Beast Bond and Speak With Animals as ritual spells.

Totem Spirit: Bear- Zooble has picked the bear as their Totem Spirit. While in a Rage, they are resistant to all damage except Psychic.

Fast Movement- Zooble’s movement is boosted by ten feet when not wearing heavy armor.

Aspect of The Beast: Elk- Zooble has chosen the elk as their animal aspect. Party travel is faster than it usually would be.

Feral Instinct- Zooble’s might allow them to attack quicker in combat.

 Brutal Critical- Through sheer savagery, Zooble can increase the damage done to an enemy.

Spirit Walker- Zooble can cast Commune With Nature as a ritual spell.

Relentless Rage- Zooble’s fury urges them forward. When they otherwise would have fallen unconscious, if in a Rage, Zooble can cling on for just a little bit longer to keep fighting. 

Racial Abilities

Animal Enhancement- As a Simic Hybrid, Zooble has had new body parts added to them to make them more powerful.

Manta Glide- Zooble has ray-like fins on their back that allow them to glide and fall safely, though they can’t fly with them. 

Grappling Appendages- Zooble has an additional pair of appendages growing alongside their arms, which they are able to grapple and attack enemies with.

Darkvision- Zooble can see in the dark.

—

All around them, they’re being watched. So many people, so many more eyes.

The sun is high in the sky. The walls around them gleam. The sand of the coliseum floor is warm beneath their feet. 

In their hands, they heft their greataxe, then charge forward.

This will be easy. 

—

DESCRIPTION

Background: Champion

Languages: Common, Elvish

Alignment: Neutral

Inventory

Money: 10 GP

- Bedroll

- Greataxe

- Handaxe (2)

- Mess Kit

- Rations

- Rope (50 feet)

- Tinderbox

- Torch

- Waterskin

Zooble is a bit of an anomaly, as many Simic Hybrids are. Their body is a strange clash of bits and parts, like they’re a puzzle made of pieces from other puzzles.

Their torso and right arm are humanoid—and those are pretty much the only normal things about them. However, their torso is mottled in orange and yellow for an unknown reason. Their left arm is similar to that of a crustacean’s, red in color and ending in a large claw. Their left leg is hooved, while their right leg is that of a bear’s, both having come from their Totem Spirit rather than from being a Simic Hybrid. Two appendages, similar to the arms of a praying mantis, extend from their back. Also on their back are two fin-like membranes that are almost like wings, allowing them to glide. 

They constantly wear a helmet that they rarely ever take off. The helmet is grated in the front and has two horns curving out from the top. 

—

Fighting. Training. Growing stronger and stronger.

More battles. All victories. 

They’re called a champion. 

No one can make them fall.

They will never lose. 

—

OTHER

- They were something great. Once. 

—

It’s their first time tasting blood, and it is a rank venom in their mouth. 

Their body aches all over. They can barely move their limbs—if they’re even still attached to their body. It’s difficult to tell.

All around them, the forest is buzzing with noise, and yet all they can hear is their own shallow breathing and the echoing roar of a crowd, slowly fading out…

They should have died that day. Their injuries were grievous. But fate had other plans. 

Something in the forest stirs. Like those aristocrats, it saw something inside of them. So, it approaches, tentative and slow, then accepts them in its embrace.

Infused with the vitality of the earth and its kin, they stand.

They will never lose again. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

GANGLE

Race: Plasmoid

Class: Druid (Circle of Stars)

Feats: Healer, Elemental Adept, Mage Slayer

Resistances: Poison

—

Bright light. 

A roll of thunder.

Pain pulsing through every inch of her body.

“Yes! YES!”

Awakened. 

—

STATS

HP: 87

AC: 15 (Leather Armor)

SPEED: 30 ft. walking

STR: 10 (+0) | DEX: 14 (+2) | CON: 14 (+2) | INT: 16 (+3) | WIS: 17 (+3) | CHA: 12 (+1)

Saving Throws

STR: +0

DEX: +2

CON: +2

INT: +7

WIS: +7

CHA: +1

Senses

Passive Perception: 13

Passive Investigation: 13

Passive Insight: 17

Skills

Acrobatics: +2

Animal Handling: +3

Arcana: +7

Athletics: +0 (Advantage)

Deception: +1

History: +3

Insight: +7

Intimidation: +1

Investigation: +3

Medicine: +7

Nature: +3

Perception: +3

Performance: +1

Persuasion: +1

Religion: +3

Sleight of Hand: +6

Stealth: +6

Survival: +3

—

The tower is nice. The woods outside of it are even nicer. So many animals. So many flowers.

It’s a shame she can’t stray very far.

—

WEAPONS/SPELLS

Weapons

- Scimitar

Spells

- Cantrips: Druidcraft, Magic Stone, Mold Earth, Produce Flame

- 1st Level: Cure Wounds, Entangle

- 2nd Level: Flame Blade, Heat Metal, Moonbeam

- 3rd Level: Call Lightning, Conjure Animals

- 4th Level: Polymorph, Stoneskin

- 5th Level: Antilife Shell, Mass Cure Wounds

- 6th Level: Primordial Ward

—

Elf ears. Marigolds. Shriveled bat wings. Powered flame. A piece of a unicorn horn.

She enjoys watching the cauldron be mixed around and around. 

—

CLASS FEATURES/RACIAL ABILITIES

Class Features

Druidic- Gangle knows Druidic, the secret language of the Druids.

Wild Shape- Gangle can shapeshift into animals.

Star Map- Gangle has a special starry map that gives her several different benefits.

Starry Form- Instead of turning into an animal, Gangle can use her Wild Shape to take on a certain kind of Starry Form of her choosing, with each one giving a different benefit.

Cosmic Omen- Gangle can consult her star map for omens to predict how an action might pan out.

Twinkling Constellation- Even after she’s already selected a Starry Form, Gangle can change it to something else. 

Racial Abilities

Amorphous- Gangle can squeeze through spaces as narrow as 1 inch wide. 

Darkvision- Gangle can see in the dark.

Hold Breath- Gangle can hold her breath for up to an hour.

Natural Resilience- Gangle has resistance to Poison damage and to being poisoned.

Shape Self- Gangle can mold and shape her body however she pleases.

—

Her master’s power grows.

As does her worry. 

—

DESCRIPTION

Background: Servant

Languages: Common, Druidic, Giant, Ooze

Alignment: Lawful Good

Inventory

Money: 15 GP

- Bedroll

- Calligrapher’s Supplies

- Candle

- Holy Symbol

- Mess Kit

- Rations

- Rope (50 feet)

- Scimitar

- Wooden Shield

- Tinderbox

- Torch

- Totem

- Waterskin

- Weaver’s Tools

As a Plasmoid, Gangle appears much like a blob of slime molded into the vague shape of a humanoid. The pale red ooze making up her body is shaped in a way that makes it look like she’s swathed in ribbon. Within her body, a nervous system can be seen, glowing ever so slightly. Upon her head, she wears a white mask that acts as her face, as it is enchanted to emote and speak. 

—

Perhaps it is time to leave.

The forest calls. 

—

OTHER

- She was once the servant to a Lich. 

—

Freedom. 

Finally.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

KINGER

Race: Warforged

Class: Ranger (Swarmkeeper)

Feats: Sharpshooter, Durable, Alert

Resistances: Poison, Disease 

—

His kingdom is flourishing. 

Within the city walls, life blooms in every crevice. Queenie loves flowers, so he’s covered every possible surface in plant life for her. It really brightens the streets. 

They’re happy. 

—

STATS

HP: 124

AC: 17 (Scale Mail)

SPEED: 30 ft. walking

STR: 12 (+1) | DEX: 14 (+2) | CON: 18 (+4) | INT: 8 (-1) | WIS: 13 (+1) | CHA: 14 (+2)

Saving Throws

STR: +5

DEX: +6

CON: +4

INT: -1

WIS: +1

CHA: +2

Senses

Passive Perception: 15

Passive Investigation: 9

Passive Insight: 11

Skills

Acrobatics: +2

Animal Handling: +5

Arcana: -1

Athletics: +1

Deception: +2

History: +3

Insight: +1

Intimidation: +2

Investigation: -1

Medicine: +1

Nature: +3

Perception: +5

Performance: +2

Persuasion: +6

Religion: -1

Sleight of Hand: +2

Stealth: +2

Survival: +5

—

He’s down at the stables one day when the marshal comes up to him, asking if they could take a stablehand under their wing to help with the workload. 

Weird. He could have sworn he hired a stablehand… But perhaps he’s just thinking wrong. Queenie always says he would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his neck!

He agrees to the marshal’s request, and a new stablehand is hired. 

—

WEAPONS/SPELLS

Weapons

- Longbow

- Quarterstaff

- Spear

Spells

- 1st Level: Cure Wounds, Longstrider

- 2nd Level: Pass Without Trace

- 3rd Level: Conjure Animals, Plant Growth, Water Walk

—

Kinger goes to a bookstore to pick up the newest copy of Queenie’s favorite book series. 

“How’s your wife been?” he asks the clerk.

The clerk looks at him oddly. “I’ve never been married.”

Kinger is confused. He could have sworn a young, cute couple ran this store together. He remembered meeting them when they first arrived in his city.

But… 

No. He didn’t.

By the next day, he’d forgotten about the clerk’s wife.

—

CLASS FEATURES/RACIAL ABILITIES

Class Features

Favored Enemy- Kinger has expertise on tracking, hunting, studying, and interacting with two creature types of his choice (monstrosities and beasts).

Natural Explorer- Kinger is adept at traveling through certain types of terrain (forest, grassland, mountains).

Primeval Awareness- Kinger can focus on the immediate area around him and try to sense aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead within a 1 mile radius.

Gathered Swarm- Kinger has befriended a swarm of insects that act as his allies and will attack with him.

Extra Attack- Kinger can attack twice.

Writhing Tide- Kinger can focus his swarm around him, allowing the swarm to lift him up so he can hover around. 

Land’s Stride- Kinger can move through non-magical difficult terrain without wasting any excess movement.

Hide In Plain Sight- Kinger can camouflage himself.

Mighty Swarm- Kinger’s swarm grows stronger, allowing it to deal more damage. 

Racial Abilities

Constructed Resilience- Due to Kinger not having a body of flesh, he has great fortitude that grants him several benefits: resistance to Poison damage and being poisoned, immune to disease, doesn’t need to sleep, doesn’t need to eat, drink, or breathe.

Sentry’s Rest- Instead of sleeping, Kinger can stand or sit motionless doing nothing and gain the same benefits of a rest.

Integrated Protection- Kinger’s body gives him natural protection.

—

It seems like the city is getting smaller. 

He and Queenie held their usual Flower Festival the day before, where butterflies would fill the sky in their multitude of colors. But for some reason, it felt like not as many people showed up. He doesn’t know why. 

—

DESCRIPTION

Background: Noble

Languages: Common, Draconic, Quori, Undercommon

Alignment: Lawful Good

Inventory

Money: 25 GP

- Arrows

- Bedroll

- Books

- Longbow

- Mess Kit

- Quarterstaff

- Rations

- Rope (50 feet)

- Scroll of Pedigree

- Signet Ring

- Spear

- Tinderbox

- Torch

- Waterskin

- Wedding Ring

Kinger almost looks like a regular man, except instead of skin, he looks to have been chiseled out of marble - a grand statue given life. He has no mouth, and upon his head is a crown carved to always be present. His hands seem like they were broken off somehow, replaced by swarms of insects forming the shape of hands. Butterflies follow him around and are usually perched on his shoulders and head. 

—

The sound of singing haunts his dreams. A gentle dire, a murmured beckon. He refuses to sleep, and for a while, Queenie is there to coax him to rest, but then…

Wait.

Who is Queenie?

—

OTHER

- He’s strayed far from his kingdom. 

—

He’s never been married. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

POMNI

Race: Shifter (Swiftstride)

Class: Warlock (The Void)

Feats: Mounted Combatant, Fey-Touched, Actor

Resistances: N/A

—

Stuffed in a cage, the kitten quivers, pressed into the furthest corner to stay out of reach. She’s crying, hyperventilating. She’s so scared. She wants to go home. 

—

STATS

HP: 87

AC: 15 (Leather Armor)

SPEED: 40 ft. walking

STR: 5 (-3) | DEX: 18 (+4) | CON: 15 (+3) | INT: 12 (+1) | WIS: 12 (+1) | CHA: 20 (+5)

Saving Throws

STR: -3

DEX: +4

CON: +2

INT: +1

WIS: +5

CHA: +8

Senses

Passive Perception: 11

Passive Investigation: 11

Passive Insight: 11

Skills

Acrobatics: +8

Animal Handling: +1

Arcana: +5

Athletics: -3

Deception: +5

History: +5

Insight: +1

Intimidation: +5

Investigation: +1

Medicine: +1

Nature: +1

Perception: 1

Performance: +12

Persuasion: +5

Religion: +1

Sleight of Hand: +8

Stealth: +4

Survival: +1

—

Bright colors and flashing lights. A calliope is playing happily. Dozens of people fill the stands to watch the show, and she is the main act. 

Don’t mess up.

Don’t mess up. 

—

WEAPONS/SPELLS

Weapons

- Dagger (2)

- Sickle

- Sling

Spells

- Cantrips: Chill Touch, Eldritch Blast, Fire Bolt, True Strike, Mage Hand, Magic Stone, Prestidigitation  

- 1st Level: Bless, Hellish Rebuke, Inflict Wounds, Misty Step

- 2nd Level: Blindness/Deafness, Shatter

- 3rd Level: Bestow Curse, Counterspell, Vampiric Touch

- 4th Level: Blight, Dimension Door, Elemental Bane

- 5th Level: Hold Monster

- 6th Level: Investiture of Fire

—

The lick of a whip dragging its blood-wet tongue across her back. Chains around her wrists, holding her down. A bridle in her mouth, choking back the screams that so desperately want to be heard.

—

CLASS FEATURES/RACIAL ABILITIES

Class Features

Touched By The Void- Sometimes, Pomni’s body will flicker in and out of existence. When this happens, she gains Advantage on Dexterity Saving Throws, causing the attack to phase right through her. Additionally, she has Advantage on Death Saving Throws, but if she were to die, she would be dragged back into the Void and devoured. 

Eldritch Invocations- Pomni has a number of eldritch knowledge at her disposal, granting her a number of benefits.

Eldritch Spear- The range of Eldritch Blast is extended to 300 feet.

Agonizing Blast- More damage is added to Eldritch Blast.

One With Shadows- If in an area with dim light or darkness, Pomni can become invisible.

Relentless Hex- Pomni can create a temporary connection with a creature. When connected, she can teleport up to 30 feet towards the creature.

Maddening Hex- Pomni can deal extra Psychic damage by creating a psychic disturbance.

Repelling Blast- Eldritch Blast will move the target back by 10 feet.

Pact Boon: Pact of the Tome- Pomni has been given a Book of Shadows by her patron, granting her three extra cantrips.

Abyssal Field- Pomni creates a sort of field that rips at the veil of reality, opening up a space to the Void in the material plane. Within this field, weak objects crumble away and are destroyed, while everything and everyone aside from Pomni takes damage. 

Entropy Awaits- After reducing an enemy to 0, Pomni can thrust their soul into the Void, feeding it and allowing her to regain a number of hit points back. 

Mystic Arcanum- Pomni’s patron has bestowed upon her an arcanum, which allows her to gain a higher level spell earlier than she normally would. 

Racial Abilities

Darkvision- Pomni can see in the dark.

Shifting- Pomni can take on a more bestial appearance. As a Swiftstride Shifter, when she is shifted, she moves faster than she normally would. 

—

Something is wrong. Something happened. The train took too sharp of a turn, and suddenly, she’s falling. Falling. Falling.

She braces herself for impact, for the terrified release of death…but it never happens.

She opens her eyes.

There’s nothing.

Everything is just…empty. 

—

DESCRIPTION

Background: Circus Freak

Languages: Common, Abyssal, Undercommon, Deep Speech, Sylvan, Goblin

Alignment: Neutral Good

Inventory

Money: 10 SP

- Book of Shadows

- Component Pouch

- Dagger (2)

- Ink

- Ink Pen

- Little Bag of Sand

- Parchment

- Sickle

- Sling

- Small Knife

- Woodcarver’s Tools

Unlike others of her kind, Pomni isn’t exactly the most ferocious or intimidating—both in personality and appearance. She’s a small, stout young woman—so short that she constitutes as a Small creature. All Shifters resemble some kind of animal, and she resembles a tiger, which is rather hilarious due to the previous mention of her being tiny and pathetic. Weirdly, her fur is red and blue instead of black and orange…but given everything else that’s just been mentioned about her, that’s pretty on-par.

Round little tiger ears poke out of her scruffy black hair, and she has a tiger tail. Her fingers and toes are clawed, and her teeth are sharp. Blue stripes are scored along her upper arms, thighs, neck, and cheeks. The bottom of her feet are padded, making it more comfortable for her to walk around without shoes on, which she usually does. She also appears to be somewhat digitigrade, often walking on her toes (perhaps to look taller?). Her nose is pink like a tiger’s. Her fingers have been permanently stained to a black gradient. 

When she’s shifted, Pomni gains a slightly more intimidating edge. Fur sprouts up her limbs and along her back, and her face takes on a more bestial appearance. 

There are red blisters around her wrists and ankles.

However, there’s something…weird about Pomni. Something almost…uncanny. Sometimes her muscles will visibly spasm beneath her skin, like they’re alive and want to get free. Sometimes her flesh will ripple. Upon her back, she has a pair of strange, vestigial wings beneath the skin. Occasionally, little black tentacles will sprout from random parts of her body. Two horn buds rise from her crown. 

And her eyes…they’re just not right. 

—

She doesn’t know how long she’s been down here. Days? Weeks? Months? Years? It doesn’t matter anymore.

She’s alone. All alone. 

She’s tried screaming. She’s tried to claw her way out. She’s tried praying to every god in existence.

Nothing.

It’s like the entire world has shut her out. 

She always knew there were fates worse than death.

She thinks she may have found the worst. 

—

OTHER

- She was once an act in a traveling magical circus that would go around via train on the borders between different planes. 

- Aberrant Horror

—

Light. Freedom.

She’s out. She’s free.

But she’s not alone. Not anymore.

Something whispers in her mind. And something writhes beneath her flesh. 

She’s scared. 

[mikashisus]

Abandon Ship

"had i told the sea what i felt for you, it would have left its shores, its shells, its fish, and followed me."

— nizar qabbani

summary: With one of the Remurian fleets hot on your tail and stolen treasure of the crown on your ship, you were ready to take to the Eastern Seas.

When one of your crewmates catches a mermaid of all things on the outskirts of the Dark Sea, you finally think you’ve hit the jackpot when it comes to treasure.

In the end, however, you come to a startling revelation: is all the treasure in the world really worth more than a life? And suddenly, you have to make a choice… either a huge sum of gold, or the man you’ve fallen head over heels in love with.

pairing: mermaid!neuvillette x fem!pirate!reader

content warnings: angst, slight mentions of traff!cking (not detailed, dialogue centered), foul language, mentions of alcohol, violence, mentions of trauma, mentions of torture (not detailed, dialogue centered), blood and injury, and suggestive themes

other disclaimers: very canon divergent, takes place a few hundred years before the archon war, mc would have a pyro vision if this was post-archon war, mentions of other characters, use of ocs for plot purposes

regula solis epoch masterlist

ch.1 wc: 5.7k

author’s notes: it was about time i made a pirate/mermaid au, and who better to do it with than neuvillette.

originally, this was also supposed to include wriothesley, but after awhile of deliberation, i decided not to. instead, one of my ocs is gonna be a second lead to fill in the love triangle.

if u get attached to my oc, im sorry. dw tho, he also appears as a second lead in one of my venti fics ;)

CHAPTER 1

The Remurian ports were exceptionally busy in the late afternoons, when the sun was falling slowly over the ocean’s horizon and the cerulean waves lapped roughly against the wooden docks of the harbor. Deep oranges and enchanting pinks filled the sky as the sun cast a golden glow upon the faces of the passerby.

Merchants shouted eagerly, their voices overriding one another as they fought to ring in new customers. People from all walks of life filled the harbor, stopping briefly to awe at the wares being sold at the vendor stalls. The lively chatter echoed through the late afternoon air, accompanied by laughter and the occasional discord.

A family passed by, their thick accents revealing them to be desert folk from the lands ruled by the Scarlet King. They gawked at the gorgeous, finely handcrafted Remurian jewelry a vendor was selling. The vendor welcomed them with a warm smile and a friendly wave. Despite the language barrier, the two parties grew to understand one another through mere gestures and patience.

The heat from the bodies packed together in the vicinity and the warm Summer air did not help to alleviate your growing frustration. As you shuffled through the tight crowds of the busy harbor, someone shoved their way past you. You sent them a sneer and returned their sentiments with an elbow jab, before tipping your hat over your eyes and upping your pace.

As you walked, the golden feather on your belt jingled loudly, joined by the sound of the tiny silver bells adorning your boots.

A cool, refreshing evening breeze blew past, knocking your hat up. The sky was beginning to fade into a wondrous blue. The wind of the North appeared ever-present, causing a smile to break out onto your lips at the thought.

Wherever you were in the world, her protection hovered over you like a safety net.

The heels of your boots clacked against the cobblestone as you turned your attention back to the task at hand. All you needed was a few tools to fix a cannon.

The last ones you owned had been tossed overboard after one of your crewmates broke them in half due to his rather hardy grip. The matter was not one of utter importance, but you preferred to have working cannons at all times.

Thankfully, you knew someone in the harbor who would be more than willing to give you the tools you needed. Your eyes wandered the harbor, searching for the shop with a wooden fist as its logo. The tools shop could be easily visible during the day, but not so much at night. It was a relatively small shop; It branched off from the well known blacksmithing shop in the city.

One too many times have you paid a visit to the forgery owned by a man who was old enough to be your father. You spent way too many Summers in that forgery, hacking away at iron with one of his hammers and wiping the sweat from your brow.

The forgery was always scalding hot, putting even the most blazing Sumeru summers to shame. The heat always made you feel dizzy and dehydrated, as if you would melt into a puddle right where you stood. Stepping outside after a long afternoon’s work always felt refreshing. The fresh breeze felt like icicles on your scorching skin as you dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your head.

You were lucky you never suffered from a heat stroke.

Absentmindedly, you kept a hand steady on your scabbard. Upon reaching the tools shop, you loosened your grip. The blade at your hip had not been pulled for quite some time, though you always kept a hand resting on its hilt.

After years of carrying it with you, you adopted a habit of staying on guard. It was a mere precaution your father taught you to take during your childhood when he first let you pick up a sword.

The excited chatter of the harbor began to dwindle as the sun fully faded over the horizon and the sky was cloaked in a blanket of blues and purples. The crowds that once took homage on the docks severed like the late afternoon breeze. Vendors packed up their wares for the night, and the loud hustle and bustle hushed into idle whispers.

The loud clacking of your boots against the pavement came to an abrupt stop as you eagerly greeted the man standing behind the counter of the tools shop. A warm smile graced your lips.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that this young man was the one manning the shop at this hour. The gods seemed to be on your side of the sails as of late.

“Mory!”

You tipped your hat in greeting and leaned your elbow against the wooden countertop. Your other hand came to rest in a fist on your jutted out hip. One of your legs crossed over the other as you let the counter support half of your weight. The golden chains on your hat jingled with your movements, as did the golden feather hanging from your belt.

“Business boomin’ today, I presume? Sure looks like it did.” You motioned to the small amount of tools missing from their display, and the diminishing crowd behind you.

The harbor was closing for the day. You were awfully lucky you arrived when you did.

The young man before you scoffed. “Not much, ‘m afraid, Cap’n.”

Mory Maye was a young man of only eighteen years old, with tousled dark brown curls on his head and striking hazel eyes that bore directly into your soul. His skin was perfectly kissed by the sun, a testament to the years of working harsh summers in the openness of his father’s forgery, as well as a depiction of his mother’s Sumerian genetics.

It was the very same forgery you worked in before your father taught you the ways of the sword.

His father, a kindhearted and deeply compassionate man who was undeniably loyal to those he considered his family and friends, was Tyler Maye; or, “Ol Ty” in the streets of the harbor. Due to the man’s ailing health, he assigned young Mory to take over the forgery for him in a few months’ time, when he would be leaving the comfort of his home to go stay in a hospital where his health would be monitored constantly.

His declining health and your time out at sea hindered your chances of visiting him. The man treated you like his own daughter, yet you would not be able to see him from here on out. Your status as a criminal blocked out any chances you had at possibly paying him a visit while he was in the hospital. Although it saddened you, there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

As for Mory, he occasionally worked at the forgery with his two brothers, Lear and Nicolas. When he was not working under the blazing sun at the forgery, he was manning this tools shop and selling wares to the same few customers who stopped by— one of them being you. It was practice for when he would take over both businesses.

His work at the forgery was evident in the calluses on his hands and his bulging muscles. Anyone could spot that he was a hard working boy that spent long hours refining weapons since he was ten years old. Many were more than impressed with his handiwork and physique— namely, the girls in the city that walked in circles around the shop just to watch him hack away at iron with a hammer you once used during your time working there.

One of those girls was the daughter of a nobleman that stopped by everyday to start idle chatter with him. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was deeply infatuated with him and was desperately trying to get his attention. She was akin to a lovesick puppy. However, she was incredibly soft spoken, and it did not help that Mory failed to realize her shy flirting time and time again. He was a little dense when it came to love.

“How long will you be ‘ere, Cap?” He questioned, watching as you placed a small bag of coins onto the countertop.

A sigh escaped your lips. “Not long, I’m afraid. Plannin’ to leave Remuria and head off towards the Eastern Seas pretty soon.”

A sound akin to a disgusted grunt left his mouth. His tone dropped down to a serious one as he made eye contact with you. “Better watch those seas, Cap. They ain’t kind… ‘specially since they’re close to that ‘Dark Sea’ the sailors keep talkin’ ‘bout.”

He wrapped a small set of tools in a bag made of cloth and took the gold coins you gave to him. He stopped short as he finished counting, “You gave me twice as much the price, Cap.” He sent you a confused glance.

A hand reached forward to ruffle his hair, messing his curls up further. A smile graced your lips. “Buy yourself that nice broadsword you been eyein’ from Idostin. Consider it recompense to Ol Ty for all that he’s done for me all these years.”

A small pink tint appeared on his cheeks, hardly visible due to his finely tanned skin. A bright smile broke out onto his face, revealing his pearly white teeth. He nodded curtly. From his relaxed shoulders and his giddy expression, you could tell he was more than thankful. “Thanks, Cap. I reckon I will.”

You nodded and sent him a pointed look. “And talk to that girl, while yer at it.” You took the bag of tools and tied it to your belt. “Ol Ty’s gonna start pesterin’ you ‘bout a partner soon. Hop to it before the naggin’ begins.”

Knowing that old geezer, he was more than likely already bothering Mory about the matter of marriage and finding a partner. Your own father used to do the same when you were Mory’s age.

The young man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. A frown made its way to his face. “I know Pop’s wantin’ to see me married before he goes, but I don’t wanna force myself. Plus, I got my whole life to find the right person. I…” he sighed, “I think I already have.”

The look he sent you said it all. For many years, you have known of his obvious crush on you. The time spent together in the forgery and in your father’s backyard refining your swordsmanship spoke of years of longing glances tossed your way and standing way too close for comfort. His jokes and laughter that permeated the air as you slacked off instead of working, his invites to the beach, and the gifts that he brought you— they all told of his feelings for you.

But you were too old for him, and he needed to know that.

Turning the boy down was never easy, but you felt as if you had to shout it in his face now for him to actually get it through his thick skull. The way his face fell, filled with heartbreak and despair, was also never easy. But it had to be done.

He shut his eyes tight, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. His brows furrowed together in hurt. As his hazel eyes opened to glance up at you with the look of a kicked puppy in them, you felt the guilt well up inside you.

“I know, Cap.” The hurt in his cracked voice did not help with the guilt you were already feeling. “I’ll talk to Lady Madeline the next time she stops by Pop’s forgery.”

Through your guilt, you mustered up a small smile and clapped him on the shoulder. For a young man with experience working in a forgery and muscles bigger than most boys his age, he winced at the impact of the smack. You didn’t hit him that hard, did you?

“Glad to hear it. I’ll see ya when the sea brings us back to Remuria.” You bid him farewell, the guilt from before leaving your veins as you began to leave the shop.

He returned your warm smile and waved high into the air. “May the North Wind bless your sails, Cap!”

The ship rocked carefully along the incoming tides on the edges of the shore. The sun had completely fallen over the horizon, long replaced by a blindingly white moon high in the dark sea of stars.

It was a quiet night. The sounds of water dripping from the ceiling of the cave and the soft chatter of sailors on the ship were a welcome melody. In the distance, a bird chirped as it flew through the cloudless sky.

Taking a seat on the edge of the ship and dangling her feet over the side, she listened to the soft gossip of the sailors working on the ship behind her. Before the captain returned, lots of work had to be done. The ship had to be thoroughly cleaned, everyone’s clothes were to be washed, a new import of fresh food and water had to be picked up from the harbor, and the small boy on board had to be fed and babysat.

She recounted the day’s events.

Before the captain left for the harbor, she helped in thoroughly cleaning the ship and fixing the cannons. The captain also helped out with retrieving the fresh goods from a friend of hers nearby. After all of that work was finished, she gave a few final orders to her crew, and disembarked on a small trip to the harbor to buy new tools to fix one of the cannons.

Leni let out a content sigh as she closed her eyes. It was the perfect night for a stroll. She had taken one earlier during sunset. It was a quick stroll, as she had to return to the ship and carry out the captain’s orders in her stead. Though it was only a few minutes, she was thankful for the respite from the constant rocking of the ship.

Although she had gotten used to being on a ship, there were times when she missed being on land and on stable ground. Months out on the sea were quite tiring. A small break from it to take in the Remurian Summer breeze was very much needed— not just for her and the captain, but for the rest of the crew as well.

In the distance, she spotted a familiar figure making their way towards the cave. She squinted, trying her best to make out the figure in the darkness. Upon seeing their hand wave high into the air to greet her, a bright smile erupted onto her face. She jumped up from her spot.

The sand was damp in the cave, causing your boots to sink as you walked. Due to the criminal record The Night Howler’s crew possessed, you had to dock the ship a safe distance away from Capitolium, Remuria’s capitol. That was why the ship had to be hidden in a grotto behind a waterfall. It was a safety precaution.

You walked up the sturdy wooden ramp leading onto the ship and greeted your crew with a tip of your hat. You placed your hands on your hips as

you began barking orders around the ship.

“All hands! We take to the seas in ten minutes!”

Letting out a sigh, you untied the bag of tools from your belt. Vincent, your main handyman on board, walked up to you. You placed the bag of tools into his large, callused hand.

He was a rather large man, with scars all over his biceps and a full beard that made him look older than he was. He was taller than most of the crew and acted as everyone’s big brother. Any heavy duty work was passed to him to handle. Out of the entire crew, he was one of the most reliable.

He took the bag and let out a heavy sigh. “‘M rather sorry ‘bout the tools again, Cap’n.”

He had a thick South Remurian accent that most of the sailors in the royal navy possessed. A majority of the South Remurian population had this accent, as did you and your late father. However, your accent was not as thick as Vincent’s.

A reassuring smile made its way to your lips. “No worries, Vin. Those ones were old anyway. We needed a new set.”

Some of your crew was idly standing by, chatting amongst each other as they prepared the ship. The loud clapping of your hands drew them out of their stupor, making them flinch. You sent them a pointed look as they turned to you.

“We leave in less than ten minutes! Do you lot not know the meaning of ‘get to work’? Or do I have to show you?”

They vigorously shook their heads and picked up their pace, preparing the ship faster than before.

“No, Captain!”

Your brows narrowed. “Then get to it!”

The sound of your yell prompted them to move faster. They scrambled along the deck to do as they were told. You turned back to Vincent with a sigh and an expectant look that told him to get moving. He did not need to be told twice. He cleared his throat and excused himself before shuffling his way down below the deck to fix that stubborn cannon.

A smooth voice permeated the air as your first mate sauntered up to you with her hands on her hips. “Look who’s back from the port!” She let out a giggle, “You sure know how to make an entrance, Captain!”

Leni, your first mate, had luscious black curls that were currently tied up into a high ponytail with a bandana. A few stray strands of hair fell to frame her round face. Her copper skin shone like bronze under the light of the lanterns littered around the ship. Her viridescent eyes were a welcome sight after the hours you spent in the harbor.

The sleeves of her tattered white blouse were rolled up to her elbows, exposing a few of the cultural tattoos dancing along her forearms. Two of the top buttons of her blouse were undone, and a beaded necklace lay flat against the curvature of her collarbone. A few golden bangles adorned her left wrist.

As she stopped in front of you, your shoulders immediately relaxed at her presence. You let out a huge sigh of relief and brought her in for a tight hug. The smell of saltwater and Sumeru roses wafted off of her person. They were a contrasting combination, but it comforted you nonetheless.

The two of you met during your days of working in Ty’s forgery, when the sun beat down harshly on your damp skin, and the heat from the furnaces made you dizzy. At that time, she was only a visitor to Remuria. She claimed to have been on vacation, but appeared to be by herself with no one to accompany her. With what little money she had, she asked you in her native language to repair her mother’s old polearm.

You didn’t quite understand what she said at first, but you could tell from her hand gestures alone that she wanted the weapon repaired.

With careful and precise work, you dutifully restored the weapon. You admired the finished work, complimenting the original craftsmanship of the handle, and the cultural symbols engraved into it.

Leni, with as much effort as she could muster, thanked you for your work in Remurian. To your surprise, she picked up the language quite quickly by listening in to the conversations happening around her in the city. You offered to teach her the language in its entirety, and she gratefully accepted.

You learned more about her family when she moved in with you.

Both of her parents had been born into a tribe in the Sumeru Desert. There, they were dancers who carried dual swords and practiced a sacred art passed down through many generations. At the time of Leni’s thirteenth birthday, her parents had passed away unexpectedly due to reasons that were unknown to you. However, with the way she spoke, you knew it most likely had to do with matters within their tribe.

In a hurry to escape, Leni fled the desert and sought refuge in Remuria, where she began anew after meeting you and your father.

Despite whatever she may have faced before you met her, you were more than grateful that she was here, standing tall in front of you with a blinding smile on her face and filled head to toe with enthusiasm. Her smile was always a welcome sight when you harbored any stress or worries.

Whenever she smiled, her eyes would close and crinkle together, dimples would dent her cheeks, and her small nose would scrunch up. She always showed her teeth as well, where you could spot a small gap in between two of her teeth on the upper left side of her jaw— supposedly from a time when she got a tooth knocked out of her mouth. She had freckles, too; They were just barely visible, but if you focused hard enough, you could see them.

Vincent returned from below the deck, wiping the sweat from his brow. He walked towards you, his hands covered in grease and the smell of gunpowder wafting off of his person.

“We’re ready for departure, Cap’n.” He told you. Before you could ask, he answered your unspoken question with a hearty smile. “Tha’ stubborn cannon is fixed, too. No need ta worry ‘bout it anymore.”

You returned his smile and let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Make way for the Eastern Seas!”

At your command, the ship began to take off, slowly rocking as it gained speed and disembarked from the cave. As it passed through the waterfall, freezing water poured over your head, drenching you head to toe. You let out a small laugh.

The cold water felt refreshing on your hot skin after spending your afternoon in the blazing sun. The nighttime air was brisk, though it was not cool enough to fully get rid of the sweat forming on the brows of your crew.

The ship picked up speed as it left the mainland, easing into a steady pace as the waves passed gently underneath. The ocean was calm tonight. It was a stark contrast to the raging storm you faced upon entering Remuria two months ago. The sails of your ship were blessed with a fairly serene voyage this time, it seemed.

As the wind blew, ruffling your hair, you noticed a look of contemplation on Leni’s face. She stood shoulder to shoulder with you, her hands on her hips and her chin held high. An aura of confidence radiated off of her. It was one that dared others to challenge her. The crease in her brow made you wonder what was on her mind. There was a subtle movement in her thin lips that looked almost like a tug at her bottom lip.

She had a habit of biting her bottom lip whenever there was something troubling her. That, and she would begin playing with the gold bangle on her wrist. At that moment, she reached for the bangle on her wrist and began fiddling with it. Immediately, you knew that something was worrying her. Before you could open your mouth to ask what was on her mind, she spoke.

“Where are we headed now, Cap?” She questioned, gently jabbing you in the side with her elbow.

“Inazuma.” A smirk appeared on your lips as you watched her verdant eyes go wide in mixed horror and surprise. “The land of the Narukami is a frightening one, but we’ll conquer it like we always do. Plus, I know someone within the merchant’s guild that would be more than willing to take that bounty off our hands.”

The wooden deck creaked under your boots as you retreated into the captain’s quarters. With a bit of hesitation, Leni followed. She allowed the door to slam shut behind the two of you. The cabin was encased in a brief silence, the only sound being the splashing of the waves outside your closed windows.

The bounty you mentioned sat on your table in the middle of the room, the pure gold and vibrant emeralds glittering in the light of the moon that filtered in through the glass window to your left.

The stolen crown of Queen Catalina weighed heavy on the ship like an anchor. The prized possession was worth more than the entirety of Mondstadt and King Remus’ treasure vault combined.

Next to you, Leni sent you an uneasy glance. “(Name)... is this really going to sell for a high price? It’s not even from Remuria… it’s from Western Mondstadt’s god king.”

Unlike you, Leni did not know much about the gods of other lands. She had been born into a tribe that worshipped The Scarlet King and the Goddess of Flowers. They did not have much knowledge on other gods— besides Morax, but that was an entirely different story.

As you approached the table, you reached for the crown and picked it up, being careful not to touch the emeralds embedded into the gold. This crown was the real deal, with authentic emeralds carved expertly to fit into the base, and a special engraving on the inside that spelled out the queen’s full title:

The god of memories, Queen Catalina Elizabeth Blair.

“It’ll sell for higher than the price we require,” you reassured Leni. “Do ya know how famous Mondstadt’s Queen is? She’s the firs’ god to ever roam the icy, Northern plains. The Thousand Winds themselves answer to her. Celestia favors her. That god king has the whole of the world an’ the heavens wrapped around her finger. Her stolen crown will land us a heap of gold— more gold than we’ll know what to do with!”

An exhausted sigh escaped Leni’s lips as she closed her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What beats me is why the crown was in King Remus’ treasure vault. Why is it in Remuria if it belongs to a god of Mondstadt?”

You let out a small scoff and gently placed the crown back onto the table. You shrugged and leaned back against the table. “Who knows? The gods are always at war. It was probably stolen by one of King Remus’ royal fleets after the Daybreak War that lasted a hundred years.”

The Daybreak War landed itself a spot in the history books in the wake of its aftermath. It was a notorious war spanning over an entire century, involving two relentless god kings: King Remus and Queen Catalina. It was said to have begun at daybreak, and ended a hundred years later at the very same time.

Historians claimed that almost half of Teyvat’s general population had been wiped out during the war, and that Celestia itself had to personally intervene before the two gods called a ceasefire.

It all began when King Remus attempted to invade Queen Catalina’s territory and disturb the peace and tranquility of the Northern icy plains of Mondstadt. He took half of her people under his rule, proceeded to treat them poorly, and took away any rights they had to their prior freedom. This act of defiance and unfairness severely angered the Queen of the North.

Talk that spread in the streets of every nation spoke of how the Queen’s wrath towards King Remus was enough to bring down the heavens, rip open the sky, and shake the very core of the earth. Her undying love towards her people and desire to regain their freedom was incredibly admirable. It was also extremely rare for a god to have that much kindness and compassion in their heart.

The Queen of the North called for reinforcements from the Thousand Winds, upon which they answered her calls. She emerged from the war as the victor. Her power and her strength was a force to be reckoned with, and the gods that roamed the lands of other nations were well informed not to pick a fight with the Queen of Mondstadt— lest they face retribution from the endless whipping winds.

Even Decarabian, the god of storms who resided in the opposite direction of the Queen’s territory, knew better than to test her patience. However, in recent years, he slowly began inching towards her land, and soon enough, he would begin to cross the border.

You awaited any news from the friends you had in Mondstadt regarding any signs of potential war. If another war were to unfold, you would be called back to your mother’s homeland to fight alongside the Queen and her knights.

The Queen of the North had your utmost trust and loyalty. If she commanded you back, you would go without hesitation.

The Night Howler, the ship you inherited from your late father, was a fugitive ship in Remuria. It was not only because you had stolen directly from King Remus’ vault, but also because you pledged loyalty to Her Majesty, his sworn enemy. However, you had no intention of returning the crown back to her.

You did not harbor any guilt, as you were already aware that she did not care for the item in the first place. You were free to do whatever you pleased with it. You could even keep all the money you received from selling it off.

A worried call from one of your crewmates drew your attention away from the conversation.

“Captain!”

You shared an uneasy look with Leni, before she rushed forward to swing open the door to the captain’s quarters. You followed her out onto the deck. The crewmate that previously called out to you handed you a spyglass. You took it without question and adjusted it as you held it up to your eye.

An involuntary groan of frustration left your lips. On the horizon, encased in a thin layer of fog, was a Remurian ship belonging to the navy. Its sky blue sails billowed in the wind as it sped across the restful waters. The intense glow of the moon passed over the shimmering golden crest of Queen Iris.

A chill ran down your spine as a breeze passed by. It served as a warning of the upcoming chase that was likely to occur.

A scowl formed on your face. Of the entire naval fleet of Remuria, the ship that had to be tailing The Night Howler was one of Queen Iris’. It seemed your luck was starting to dwindle.

Leni sent you an expectant look, to which you placed the spyglass in her hand. After a moment, a small gasp escaped her lips.

“Queen Iris. Of all people.”

A scoff left your best friend’s peach colored lips. She tossed you a glance filled with exasperation. “She wants the crown back for her King.” You couldn’t help but agree with her.

The infamous Queen Iris was the Southernmost ruler of King Remus’ territory, overlooking the Irenian Sea that connected Remuria and the ancient land of Natlan. Among King Remus’ four lords that were given a snippet of his power, Queen Iris was the most feared and wealthy.

The woman was strong-willed, strategic, and witty. She possessed the largest naval fleet of the four lords. Currently, the estimation stood at ten thousand men and women alike. She required the best of the best. Those who wished to join her ranks could not be seen as mediocre. They had to be perfect— no more and no less.

That said, the expectations and pressure she held over their heads was an inexplicable amount. Any sailor was lucky to not work under the devilish lord of the South.

And to be on opposing forces of Queen Iris was to be doomed with a fate worse than death itself. Lucky for you, you were smarter than the scrawny, brainless men she sent after you time and time again. You, on countless occasions, out-witted her fleets and sent them running with their tails between their legs.

Needless to say, you haven’t seen the same men twice. You could only assume they were disposed of after their failed attempts of dragging your ship and your crew back to their beloved Queen.

Instead of treating this like a life or death situation, you treated this like a game of cat and mouse.

Queen Iris liked to believe you were the mouse simply because your ship was smaller than her fleets, and your crew was not made up of trained soldiers. Trained soldiers or not, your crew was some of the finest swordsmen you have ever met. They outclassed Iris’ royal fleets anyday.

If Queen Iris wanted to play another round of this seemingly endless game, who were you to not entertain her? After all, you were used to being on wanted lists. She could try her scare tactics all she wanted, but you were well informed on her battle strategies by now. You had the upper hand.

Although she was given power by a god, it did not scare you in the slightest. She was not even half of what King Remus claimed to be. Neither he, nor his four lords scared you. The only god that did was the wrathful god that was Queen Catalina’s lover.

“Full speed ahead, men!” you yelled. “If it’s a game Lady Iris wants, then it’s a game the devil will get!”

The sound of laughter filled the air as the crew rushed around, preparing the ship accordingly as it lurched forward at the highest speed it could possibly go. You placed your hands on your hips as a smirk made its way onto your face.

Leni let out a sigh. “You’re enjoying this too much, Captain.” Her verdant eyes were glossed over with a tinge of annoyance for your behavior. You simply nudged her with your elbow.

“Am I? Come now, my dear Leni. The Queen is gracin’ us with her attention once more! This is more attention than any of those snotty royal navy boys will get from her in their lifetimes!” You wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into your side.

Another sigh escaped her lips. This one was filled with exhaustion. A smile tugged at her lips. “I have no doubt in your abilities to outsmart her, Cap. Lead us to victory once more.”

author’s notes: i know what you're thinking ... "ray you haven't finished your other fics yet!!!" I KNOW IM SORRY I PROMISE I'LL FINISH THEM 🙏 anyways, welcome to volume one of the regula solis epoch!! this is a fic series that takes place a few hundred years before the archon war and is very canon divergent. however, i'm going to try to stay true to the lore of remuria to make this more realistic!!

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[usagirln12003]

Vinsmoke Sanji: Hogwarts AU

Sanji Vinsmoke is a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 2nd of March 1978 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1989, being sorted into Gryffindor House.

He has a Poplar wand with a Phoenix Feather Core.

His Patronus is a Mountain Goat.

His favorite subject is Potions and his least favorite subject is History of Magic.

He was one of the Gryffindor Prefects of his year.

One of Sanji's most easily noticeable characteristics is the kind, calm, cool, and collected manner in which he carries himself. He tends to speak in a very composed manner, even in dire situations, and rarely acts without thinking. His demeanor in a lot of ways can be compared to that of a secret agent. This is amplified by the fact that he very often enjoys a smoke. He quite often makes comedic exceptions to this, such as when in the presence of beautiful women, or when angered by a friend.

Like Zoro, he is more perceptive than he seems, and often tells people what they need to hear instead of what they want. Hence, he is seen as one of the more hardened people in Luffy's friend-group. For example, when they first meet Laboon and learn that the whale had been waiting for 50 years for a reunion with his friends, it is Sanji who immediately (and correctly) points out that Laboon's friends are most likely dead. Sanji does possess an optimistic and idealistic side. Furthermore, even after the abuse, he experienced from his family as a child, he held out hope that they may have changed for the better. However, this hope proves to be completely futile, but he was angrier than surprised at the revelation, showing that he maintains a healthy sense of skepticism even at his most hopeful. Sanji also showed a high degree of faith in his fiancée, Pudding Charlotte, and was horrified and downcast when he discovered her true motive.

Like Franky (and unlike Zoro), Sanji is not afraid to show his emotions when the moment calls for it and is entirely capable of crying or losing his temper, which results in Sanji's short fuse and subsequent beatings of most enemies (and Luffy). In fact, a running gag has appeared since Sanji's fight with Jabra, during which he stated that when he gets angry, he "heats up". After this fight, when Sanji gets particularly angry at an opponent, he appears to burst into flames. This occurs with both Absalom and Duval. It is also seen when Luffy states nonchalantly that he is friends with Hancock Boa, considered to be the most beautiful witch.

Despite his hardened outlook on life, Sanji does not object to acting foolishly on certain occasions, like dancing with the more immature members of the group (Luffy, Usopp, Chopper and Brook), or acting childishly excited in certain situations.

Sanji seems to enjoy relaxing with a cup of tea (his favorite drink) as seen when he entered Mr. 3's house and helped himself to Miss Golden Week's tea set. This habit came up again when the group sneaked into the Ministry of Magic to save Robin when Kalifa distracted Sanji by offering him tea; in another instance, Sanji angrily refused Bege when he was offered something to drink while trapped inside of Bege's mansion.

Since at a young age, Sanji has a habit of saying "shit" or "shitty" when describing something. For example, he might call a person he especially does not like a "shitty bastard" or something along those lines (such as his personal nickname for Zeff, "shitty geezer"), but he also described something pleasant to him, like being alone with Nami, as "shitty fantastic" and "the shitty best".

He does admit that he is not perfect. He convinced Usopp to let him fight Jabra, because of their differences in abilities. He admitted that he was stronger than Usopp in terms of physical strength, that they both had things they could not do and things they could do and because of that, they can help each other. This inspired Usopp to realize he was the only one who could save Robin by using his marksmanship.