#great! now let’s decapitate him

[conspicuous-clown-car]

uh oh!

[selineram3421]

*friend comes up with something*

Royally Pissed

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Morningstar Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ Italics=thoughts, implied/suggestive *cough* bedroom name ⚠

In all honesty, Alastor didn't know why he did it but it just happened.

He pulled the small blonde out of the way, holding them close to his chest as a large dust cloud came from the now broken chandelier.

Mostly everyone in the room coughed as they tried to clear the dust from themselves.

"Are you hurt?", he asked them, noticing that the top of their head barely reached his chin.

How small.

"I'm fine.", they turned away to cough. "That was a lot of dust.."

Before he could ask for their name again, they were suddenly pulled away by none other than the King, Lucifer.

"ALRIGHT THEN!", he said before pulling them towards Charlie.

Haha!

The blonde slid over to his daughter, bringing along his other child as he began.

Looks like you could use some help

From the big boss of Hell himself

He held Charlie close before pushing her to see him sitting on a throne with fire rising behind it.

Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp

He sang, scrolling on his hellphone to show her the reviews.

(Five star! Flawless! Greater than great!)

Three puppets said one after the other.

Oh, with the punch of a pentagram

A wap-bam-boom! Alakazam!

Alastor rolled his eyes as he watched on, but then he was suddenly pouring wine into a glass.

Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?

The deer demon was pulled by the waist and landed in a pan, ears folded back as he angrily smiled at the King who grinned evily before he was flipped onto his front.

(Wow~)

I'm going to kill him.. Alastor thought before lifting himself up.

.

You were pulled into song and at the moment, were now sitting at a dinner table with your sister as your father was dressed like a server, hand about to reveal a meal.

Michelin-tasting menu

He lifted up the silver cloche, revealing a a "decapitated" Alastor, then some tentacles with red eyeballs, and finally a cake with him holding Alastor's head.

Free à la catre!

Oook.. You cringed. Dad doesn't like Alastor.

I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref!

He started focusing more on Charlie and started to make more things appear.

Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just the start~!

And then Alastor jumped in with blacklight, his backgrounds looking vibrant.

Who's been here since day one?

The deer demon pushed your father away, making him spin out of song.

Who's been faithful as a nun?

He was suddenly dressed as a nun, holding his hands in a praying position.

Much like how your father changed his scenes quickly, so did Alastor. You were having some trouble keeping up with it. His appearance looking slightly different with the lighting, his irises now green.

I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond

"Aw.", Charlie smiled.

He was now at the top of the stairs with your sister.

You're like the child that I wish that had

Alastor cupped your sister's face,

"Uh, what?", your dad said shocked.

Then your sister was like a child tucked in bed, literally. Alastor sitting at the edge and patting her head.

I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned

"Hold on now!", your father lifted up a finger.

The deer demon suddenly leaned his elbow on top of your dad's head, smooshing the white top hat.

It's a little funny

He started and pulled your sister to face away from your father.

You could almost call me Dad!

Suddenly you pulled into the song and were spun into a dip, finding Alastor smiling down at you with a seductive gaze.

(You can call me Daddy~), he whisper sang to you.

Your face turned bright red as you let out a squeak.

.

How adorable~ His smile widened as he saw them hide their blushing red face with their hands.

Now this one was on purpose.

After seeing the immediate reaction Lucifer had with him touching them. Oh, he had to cross multiple lines to see what the man would do next.

They were practically shaking in his hands, no doubt a little overwhelmed with what he had just sang just for their ears alone.

Let's see if I can fluster them more. He thought and raised a hand towards their face.

Suddenly they were ripped out of his hold and it was just the two men on stage.

The King growled, face darkening before he began to angrily play a fiddle, walking up to him with a scowl.

Alastor just smiled, standing up straight with his hands behind his back. Taking a step back as he dropped a piano on the short King before taking a seat on the piano bench, playing it confidently and showing off his skills before cringing at a loud sound.

His piano solo interrupted by an accordion.

Looking behind him, he saw Lusifer holding the instrument above his head with a frown, playing just one long note.

Really? He thought with a raised brow.

The two glared at each other before the spotlights above the two flickered out.

*me and my friend holding back our laughter* We can't laugh! It's 2 am!

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @valenfawkes @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @+?

Taglist continued in the comments🔪

ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑

[ddejavvu]

eddie teaching venom about love languages <33

"Physical touch is," Eddie starts, shoulder bumped up beside yours on the couch, but Venom cuts in, head hovering over Eddie's shoulder.

"That is the one where we fuck her." Venom announces proudly, toothy grin aimed in your direction. You stifle a laugh and Eddie groans, head tosses back against the couch cushions.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's the one where we fuck her," Eddie drawls, exasperated, "But that's also, like, holding hands, kissing, that kind of stuff."

"That one is my favorite." Venom declares, "I do not care about the other ones."

"Yes you do," You counter, and Venom's milky white eyes turn to you again, "'Cause there's gift-giving. That's when I bring you chocolate. And chickens."

"I gave Eddie the gift of a decapitated man once," Venom reminisces, "But he hated it. Does that mean he does not love me?"

"That's not a gift, buddy." Eddie shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the gory memory, "That's- I mean maybe you thought that was a gift, but gifts are supposed to be nice things, like flowers or a teddy bear."

"Teddy bears are useless!" Venom roars, and you know he's only speaking out of deep-seated loathing for your own stuffed animal, which the symbiote is rather jealous of.

"I would much rather receive a head," He huffs, turning back to Eddie, "Does it mean that you do not love me because you do not give me heads to eat?"

"No," Eddie rubs a tired hand over his face, "Let's- let's just move on. Uh, words of affirmation."

"You're so handsome," You croon at Venom, who blinks as you stroke the back of your hand along his goopy cheek, "And you're a great protector, I always feel safe around you."

"See?" Eddie nods, "Just like that. Nice things you say to the person you love."

"You are very small," Venom practices, and while it's true compared to his gargantuan size, it's not much of a compliment, "And I like that you feel safe around me even though I could easily rip your head off. And eat it. You would not stand a chance."

"We'll work on it," Eddie mutters, "Alright, acts of service."

"Like when Eddie gives me a shoulder massage," You hum, stretching out the tense muscles in your neck, "Or when I wash his hair for him in the shower. That's nice things you do for the person you love."

"I am good at that!" Venom boasts, "I make you breakfast sometimes."

"Yeah," Eddie nods, voice strained, and you play along even though you know that the attending to the mess that comes with Venom's cooking is more effort than doing it yourself, "Yeah, buddy, that's good. You're right, that's really nice of you."

"I am very nice," Venom agrees, bobbing his head up and down, "Are there more?"

"Quality time-" You and Eddie speak in unison, laughing sheepishly at each other. It's Eddie that continues, "Like what we're doing now. Sitting together, talking, just hanging out and being with each other."

"When he takes me on dates, too," You chime in, your voice a soft hum, "Or when you take me around the city, big guy."

You tap at Venom's cheek and he nods, blinking once in understanding.

"I like quality time," Venom decides, the thick black ooze connecting his head to Eddie's shoulder sucking him back in until his face is nestled between yours and Eddie's. It's an odd feeling on your hair but you and Eddie hold your positions anyways, intent on drilling non-sexual physical touch into the symbiote.

"Me too," You nod, and Eddie pitches in his confirmation, "Which one is your favorite, V?"

"Mm," The symbiote hums, but it sounds more like the revving engine of a car, "I do not know. I like getting gifts, but I like sitting with you, too. I like them all."

"Too hard to choose," Eddie agrees, "You?"

"More of the same," You conclude, turning your face so that your nose nudges Venom's cheek. He purrs, not unlike a cat, sounding more engine-like than ever, and his large eyes slip shut.

"Naptime," Eddie chimes, reaching over to grab your hand in his. You smile, puckering your lips to send him a kiss that you can't press to his cheek unless you break away from Venom. He pretends to catch it where the symbiote can't see, slapping it onto his cheek and acting injured at the recoil.

"Oh," He groans while you giggle, "You throw a mean kiss."

You settle against Eddie's side, and it's odd having Venom's face in between you to where you can't rest on the man's shoulder, but he's a nice pillow in and of himself. You're only seconds away from fully drifting off to sleep when Venom's jaw moves against your face, and he whispers (terribly), "Eddie. Are you awake?"

"Yes, Venom." Eddie groans, but by the sound of his voice, he wishes he wasn't, "What do you need?"

"I decided on a favorite," Venom informs Eddie, and you listen under the guise of closed eyelids, "I like the sex one best."

You can't help it; you let out a snort.

"Nice going, V," Eddie squeezes your hand, shutting his eyes once more and attempting to get comfortable, "I'm sure that's just the answer she wanted to hear."

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere!!King x Princess reader

(okay this is set in medieval times and there are your usual warnings such as murder obsessive behavior and some gore)

He was a cold hearted and he didn't let feelings get in the way but that was until he met you.

He wanted to be business partners with your father and was going to a meeting to discuss the matter.

When he was at the meeting he was not impressed and was about to call the partnership off until you walked in.

He was mesmerized and couldn't stop staring at you, you came in to show your father your latest painting but then realized he was in a meeting and profusely apologized and scurried away.

Your father explained how you where his daughter and he was immediately set on making you his bride.

He then went on with the partnership just to get close to you.

He always came to your kingdom to work with your father when it was really just a desperate attempt to try and get closer to you but you where very intimidated by him and always went away when he was around.

You always caught him staring at you which creeped you out and you always sensed his death glare when you spoke to the other nobles but you never said anything about it.

When you finally told your father about how he made you feel uncomfortable he said you were being silly and told you not to worry about it.

You took your fathers advice and ignored it but it only got worse, your yandere would get way to close to you when he spoke to you he was always touching you when he got the opportunity and he always asked if you where seeing anyone.

You started to hate him a little more each day until the point where you asked your father to cancel the partnership so you could finally get rid of him.

This time your father had seen the king harass you and wasn't shocked when the king asked for your hand in marriage.

Your father had sensed your resentment towards him and said no but the king did not like this and demanded to speak to you but your father called the guards to take him back to his carriage.

The king swore vengeance on your father before he was taken away.

Your father paid no mind to this and went to assure you that you would never see the king again and everything was great for about two months until the king brought an army of a thousand men and attacked the kingdom.

He said he would spare the kingdom if your father would give you to him but your father refused and prepared for war.

Your father and his men fought hard to protect you but where viciously killed in battle.

When you saw the king whom you hated with a passion holding your fathers decapitated head by his hair you knew you where done for.

Now here you are at the alter getting married to a monster and you could see the grin on his face.

"One day you'll understand I did what I did because I love you my dear"

[suzannahnatters]

Let Your Knights Weep

One of the big things I've had to train myself out of when writing medieval historical fiction?

The stiff upper lip.

This used to really bewilder my editor, who for some time attempted to nudge me away from having my grown men weep and wail and blubber, but for me it's an essential part of the setting. Whether in grief or fear, medieval people did not hold things back.

Here are some of my favourite quotes to explain.

First, a couple from two great 20th century medievalists:

CS Lewis in his Letters put it this way:

“By the way, don't 'weep inwardly' and get a sore throat. If you must weep, weep: a good honest howl! I suspect we - and especially, my sex - don't cry enough now-a-days. Aeneas and Hector and Beowulf, Roland and Lancelot blubbered like schoolgirls, so why shouldn't we?”

Dorothy Sayers, in her fabulous Introduction to her translation of THE SONG OF ROLAND, speaking of Charlemagne discovering Roland's body on the battlefield:

Here too, I think we must not reckon it weakness in him that he is overcome by grief for Roland’s death, that he faints upon the body and has to be raised up by the barons and supported by them while he utters his lament. There are fashions in sensibility as in everything else. The idea that a strong man should react to great personal and national calamities by a slight compression of the lips and by silently throwing his cigarette into the fireplace is of very recent origin. By the standards of feudal epic, Charlemagne’s behaviour is perfectly correct. Fainting, weeping, and lamenting is what the situation calls for. The assembled knights and barons all decorously follow his example. They punctuate his lament with appropriate responses:

By hundred thousand the French for sorrow sigh; There’s none of them but utters grievous cries.

At the end of the next laisse:

He tears his beard that is so white of hue, Tears from his head his white hair by the roots; And of the French an hundred thousand swoon.

We may take this response as being ritual and poetic; grief, like everything else in the Epic, is displayed on the heroic scale. Though men of the eleventh century did, in fact, display their emotions much more openly than we do, there is no reason to suppose that they made a practice of fainting away in chorus. But the gesture had their approval; that was how they liked to think of people behaving. In every age, art holds up to us the standard pattern of exemplary conduct, and real life does its best to conform. From Charlemagne’s weeping and fainting we can draw no conclusions about his character except that the poet has represented him as a perfect model of the “man of feeling” in the taste of the period.

OK, now let's dig into some quotes that I found just in Christopher Tyerman's Chronicles of the First Crusade and Joinville's Life of St Louis:

Truly you would have grieved and sobbed in pity when the Turks killed any of our men....

As for the knights, they stood about in a great state of gloom, wringing their hands because they were so frightened and miserable, not knowing what to do with themselves and their armour, and offering to sell their shields, valuable breastplates and helmets for threepence or fivepence or any price they could get....

When Guy, who was a very honourable knight, had heard these lies, he and all the others began to weep and to make loud lamentation....

They stayed in the houses cowering, some some for hunger and some for fear of the Turks....

Now at vigils, the time of trust in God’s compassion, many gave up hope and hurriedly lowered themselves with ropes from the wall-tops; and in the city soldiers, returning from the encounter, circulated widely a rumour that mass decapitation of the defenders was in store. To add weight to the terror, they too fled…

In the course of that day’s battle there had been many people, and of fine appearance too, who had come very shamefully flying over the little bridge you know of and had fled away so panic-stricken that all our attempts to make them stay with us had been in vain. I could tell you some of their names, but shall refrain from doing so, because they are now dead.

I could go on looking for quotes in all the other medieval literature I've read, but that would be beyond the scope of this Tumblr post.

In the meantime, this leads me to make some comments on how trauma was perceived.

In Jonathan Riley-Smith's The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading, the author discusses the mental breakdowns suffered by the first crusaders during the second siege of Antioch, which caused many of them to flee at the moment of direst need:

In these stressful circumstances it is not surprising that the crusaders were often very frightened. At times, indeed, they seem to have been almost paralysed by a terror that they themselves could hardly comprehend. … When the crusade was bottled up in Antioch by Kerbogha's relief force it was gripped by such blind panic that there was the prospect of a mass break-out and on the night of 10 or 11 Juney 1098 Bohemond and Adhemar had the gates of the city closed. It is worth noting that many of those whom later chroniclers, writing after the events in comparative comfort in Europe, vilified for cowardice and desertion seem to have been treated more charitably by their fellow-crusaders, who must have understood what pressures they had been under.

--

In conclusion: the way we feel about things today in the English-speaking isn't necessarily the way people felt about things in the past (and this goes for other cultures, real or imagined, too). I'm continually catching myself writing people with stiff upper lips and emotional reservations, and having to remind myself that the culture was different back them. If a grown man wanted to weep, he could. That's a good thing. (Oh, and my medieval historical fantasy? Check out the Watchers of Outremer series on Amazon or wherever books are sold!)

[revasserium]

to the lighthouse - Zoro and what guides him home

10. to the lighthouse

zoro; 2,320 words, opla!zoro, the fluffiest of fluff, straw hat!reader, established relationship

summary: you just wanted to buy some apples; now complete with a prequel right here

a/n: aggressively adorable, truly -- i have no excuse for this okay. i'm just so freakishly whipped for opla!zoro pls dont look at at me

zoro has never been great shakes at directions (navigation has always been more nami’s thing, and he knows his place in the world), but he’s never needed a compass to find his way home. once, he might have. once, he would’ve wandered and wondered forever and ever, believing the great unknowns of the world to be his compass rose, the horizon his true north, but not anymore. because you see, he’s grown since then — he’s gotten bigger, stronger, more ruthless, more deadly. but he’s gotten smarter too… if only just by a little bit.

he’s learned since then that home doesn’t have to be a place, that it can just as easily be a person.

or, in his case, that it could be both.

“warn me, the next time you plan on getting kidnapped for ransom, would’ya?”

there’s blood on his headband and blood on his shoes, but he can’t quite keep his voice as gruff as he’d like, even as he hauls you bodily onto the deck of the going merry, scowling as you kick your feet in a feeble attempt to get him to let you go.

“it’s not like i was trying to get kidnapped! i was getting apples from the market!”

“yeah, in broad daylight, in a giant port town where all our faces are plastered across wanted posters! even i could’ve told you that’s a bad idea.”

you yelp as he dumps you unceremoniously onto the kitchen’s large wooden table, mumbling to himself as he beings to rummage through the drawers for a first aide kit, slamming cupboards as he goes.

you fold your arms, unable to stop the grin from tugging at your lips.

“did you… just call yourself dumb?”

zoro whirls around, color blotching into his cheeks as he glares, “i — f — you know what i mean!”

he whips back around and slams a drawer so hard the handle breaks; he swears even as you start to laugh, wincing and clutching at your stomach, the skin of your side tender and growing more so by the minute.

“o-ow! don’t make me laugh! it hurts!”

“serves you right… stupid… parading around… not paying attention…”

he slams the first aid kit onto the table next to you, roughly swatting your hand out of the way as he gingerly lifts your shirt to inspect the damage.

“i’m fine —”

“you’re not fine, and quit squirming. i’m not chopper so if i fuck up, it’s your fault.”

you press your lips and hold still, hissing as he carefully dabs at a rather large gash between two of your ribs.

“and i wasn’t parading… i mean, my face isn’t on a wanted poster yet so…”

zoro spares you a single look before going back to his work, “yeah. yet.”

you deflate, inching forward slightly to make his job a bit easier as he continues to clean your wound, his touch now so much gentler than anyone might give him credit for. you watch him with soft eyes, trail the tracks of his fingers as he fumbles with the alcohol soaked cotton pad, daubing at the raw red of your skin. you wondered if anyone who hunted him from his picture on a wanted poster would recognize him now, his cheeks flushed, his brows lightly furrowed, his eyes sharp and steady as tried his best not to hurt you.

“there,” he says, his voice short and rough as he presses his palm over a strip of clean gauze, sealing it in place. he pulls back to admire his handiwork, looking as pleased as he might’ve been if he’d just decapitated an entire infantry’s worth of men without drawing a single sword.

you gingerly tug your shirt back down, your skin feeling much warmer at the places where he’d touched, his palm-print burning like a brand along the expanse of your ribs. you gulp and clear your throat.

“sorry… i — i didn’t mean to.”

“save it,” and then, when you wince at his tone, zoro sighs, scratching at the back of his neck as he leans up against the table next to you, “i know you didn’t. i was just…”

and it’s his turn to pause, to clear his throat and look away.

“sanji… sanji wanted apples for the curry he’s making tonight,” you say, kicking your feet, your eyes trained on the tips of your shoes as they swing up and down in succession — right, left, right, left, right —

“apples in curry? ew.”

“he said they’re the secret ingredient! and — apparently, the better the apples, the better the curry, and it’s — well, it’s fall so they’re in season right now, and nami said this island is known for their apple orchards so i thought — maybe if i went to the market on the first day i’d be able to snag the best ones —”

he cuts you off with a kiss, swallowing passed your surprised squeak before your eyes flutter shut, your lashes tickling his cheeks like moth wings. you can almost taste his satisfied smirk when your fingers curl into the front of his shirt to tug him closer.

“you’re rambling… you only do that when you’re nervous.”

you bite your lip but zoro presses his thumb to your chin, tilting your head up till he meets your eyes.

“why’re you nervous?”

“i — i’m not —”

“hm. you’ve always been a shit liar.”

you try to tug your head away from him but his grip is strong, his other hand casually resting below your waist, his fingers pressing into the soft of your hips, holding you in place.

“it’s… nothing…” but he’s right. you have always been a terrible liar, even worse to the people who know you. and god does zoro know you.

zoro’s grin goes wolfish as he cocks his head, eyeing you as a hunter might his prey, “pretty little liar though… i gotta say,” he drags his thumb along the bottom of your lip, pushing against the plush of your mouth, his eyes going dark as he watches the way your breath hitches.

“but even pretty little liars deserve to be punished, don’t they?” he leans in, breath hot by your ear, his words chasing shivers up and down your spine. you fight back a whimper, knowing that if he were truly to pin you there, there’d be nothing you could do to escape him.

“unless… you wanna tell me the truth?”

you let out a shuddering breath before sighing.

“w-we — we wanted to — to throw you a birthday party.”

zoro pauses, his darkened gaze going wide for a second before he pulls back, visibly confused.

“b…birthday? uh — that’s not till november —”

“i know but… who knows if we’ll be docked by then, and… your favorite season is autumn so…” you shrug, voice small even as you try to duck and hide the blush rushing up into your cheeks.

“so… you went to get apples… for my not-birthday birthday dinner?”

“i mean — your favorite food is rice and… curry goes the best with rice, right?”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, his hand falling to press against your other hip. but before he can say anything else, sanji’s voice echoes in from just beyond the door before it swings open to reveal sanji, with his arms full of groceries and usopp close behind him, nearly running into sanji’s back as he comes to an abrupt stop at the sight before him.

“darling, did you manage to get those apples? y’know if we’re really gonna make this curry, it’ll have to stew for a good three or so hours — oh — my apologies… was i interrupting something? decide to give the lucky man an amuse bouche before his main course tonight, yeah?”

you groan and try to tug away but zoro merely quirks an eyebrow, seemingly unphased.

“why’re you putting apples into perfectly good curry?”

at this, sanji rolls his eyes and hoists the groceries on to the kitchen table next to you, casting zoro a scathing look.

“look man, i don’t question your sword-swinging and you don’t question my cooking, alright? now, if you’re really thirsting to know — the sweetness in the apples gives texture to the curry as it stews, and that’s what makes it so damn delicious when you pair it with the rice, got it?”

zoro scoffs, his hands still planted firmly on either side of your hips even as sanji starts to pull out all the varied ingredients for the meal. behind him, usopp is juggling an impressive number of liquor bottles as he tries to slot them into the drinks rack.

“yeah. we’ll see,” and with a single arm, zoro hoists you from the table and sets you down on the ground next to him, guiding you from the kitchens even as sanji shoots you a salacious wink.

“you’ll be singin’ to a different tune when you’ve had your first taste, moss-head!”

zoro doesn’t grace that with a response, steering you out of the kitchens before yelling for usopp to toss him a bottle of something good over his shoulder.

later that night, when the party is in full swing, he finds you by the carved white railings at the darkened head of the ship, eyes trained on the far horizon. behind you both, luffy is standing on a barrel, belting some old drinking song while nami laughs and sanji swings chopper in a strange, uncoordinated two-step.

“hey,” he says, bumping your shoulder with his.

“oh! hey…” you cast him a smile as he takes another swig from his nearly empty glass.

“why aren’t you —” he jerks his head back towards the swinging, dancing, laughing crew.

you bite back a smile, shrugging, “i was just… thinking.”

“oh. well, that’s not good.”

you slam your shoulder into his but he barely moves, chuckling.

“today… when you saved me from those kidnappers… how’dyou know where to find me?”

you turn to look at him, and for a second, the question almost catches him off guard. he stares at you, as if unsure himself how to answer before he grins, his eyes slipping from you out towards the darkness beyond as behind you both, sanji starts in on a showtune in a warbled language neither of you can understand.

“actually, ‘m not sure… i just… had a feeling.”

you blink, “you… had a feeling?”

“yeah like… y’know when uh — turtles and stuff always know how to get back to the beach where they were born?”

your eyebrows slowly migrate up your forehead this words as you stare at him, dumbstruck.

“zoro… you’ve gotten lost on a straight road before —”

“shut up! it’s not — it’s different though… i dunno how to explain it, but i just… i just knew. something — something wasn’t right and i knew i had to find you.”

and even in the relative darkness, you can see the color seeping into his cheeks. you let yourself laugh, glancing down at the half-finished drink in your own hands.

“i’ll… i’ll always find you.”

you look up at his words, his voice so much softer than you’re used to, the words so much more tender. you look up to find him watching you, his gaze soft and warm, sweet and molten.

“even if it takes me forever… i’ll… i’ll always find my way to you.”

and you wonder if it’s the alcohol, you wonder if it’s the darkness gifted by the moonless night, the prickling light of a hundred thousand stars winking above in the velvet sky.

you nod, raising your glass in quiet acceptance of his words, of this solemn vow that you know he’d never make without the intention of honoring it until time itself has breathed its last.

you clink your glass against his.

“happy birthday.”

zoro laughs, shaking his head, “can’t believe you’re making me celebrate two months early.”

“we can throw another party when its your actual birthday.”

“yeah — just promise me you won’t get kidnapped again.”

you laugh, shaking your head, “as long as you promise that if i do… you’ll be there to find me.”

zoro raises his glass to his lips, “i’ll drink to that.”

you toss your own drink back, feel the burn of it work it’s way down your throat, the fire settling in the pit of your stomach as zoro tugs you by the hand back to the heart of the party, where nami screams and throws her arms round you, pulling you into a suffocating hug and sanji nearly trips over trying to refill your glass.

zoro grins, laughing as luffy wobbles and nearly smashes into the main mast. he lets sanji refill his drink; he lets luffy pull him into a unwilling sea shanty, everyone swaying left and right with the uneven rhythm of the drowsy sea.

and he realizes, not for the first time, though it still sometimes comes as a surprise — that there’s no place he’d rather be. because you see, for zoro home is both a place and a person — the place is here with his crew around him, the ocean beneath them, the world sprawled out like a map at their feet.

and the person… he looks up across the raucous merry-making to catch your eye, to catch a breath of your bright, bell-like laughter — he’s never been more sure of anything else in his entire life that the person… is you.

opla!zoro requests r open LOL (literally idk if i will write anyone else but him at this point but EY if u got a req....)

[satansamwriting]

Mk characters reacting to their GN s/o wearing their hats

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Characters : Erron Black, Kung Lao, Raiden

I wrote this because whenever I play MK, I would always wonder what it would be like to wear the hats of those boys.

Mostly because of Kung Lao since I absolutely adore seeing him fight with his hat. It's so funny and cool and I really wanna try it.

Hopefully you'll enjoy those silly little Headcanons. I had a blast writing them. Oh and if you want, tell me in the comment which hat would you be tempted to try/steal the most out of the three? I'm curious :)

Also I discovered while writing those that I had a thing for throwing hats in the air. Don't know why, I just think it looks cool xD.

As usual disclaimer: English ain't my native language so there might be mistakes in this. I'm trying my best to correct them as I see them.

TW : mention of death, blood and decapitation in Erron story

Please enjoy 😊

Erron Black

Something that was established during the early days of your relationship was that Erron loves his hat.

No one is allowed to touch, wear or even go near his hat.

Will rarely take it off.

Would shoot anyone who dares take the hat.

Would take immense care of it.

You wondered what it would feel like to wear it but feared the wraith of your partner.

However, the hat is free real estate if you find it on the ground during battle and the cowboy is too far away from it and distracted.

Then you wouldn’t hesitate to put it on.

You would feel pretty badass with it.

Now entering shitty cowboy jokes mode

You'd try your best and fail miserably to do a cowboy accent. 

Erron would never admit it but it would become his favourite thing, seeing you with his hat. 

0o0o0o

Screams of agony and rage echoed around the arena. An uprising caused by some rebels not happy with Kotal Kahn being in power was taking place. The Kahn, having safely left the vicinity, entrusted his most brave and fearsome soldiers to fend off the remaining troublemakers. Aka, (Y/n) and Erron, accompanied by a small group of Outworld soldiers, stayed behind to clean the arena. The fight had proven to be somewhat more difficult then they had previously anticipated. Somewhere during the battle, someone managed to knock Erron's hat off. He wasn't bothered by it at the time as he was more focused on winning the kombat and staying alive. However, once his enemy was defeated, he quickly noticed the missing item.

Erron, slightly annoyed by this, scanned the arena but couldn’t find his hat. Not until his eyes landed on his partner.

They were further away from him, fighting against their own opponent. The dust flying around made it hard to see clearly but he knew from the shape of it that, resting on their head, was his hat.

To say that Erron found the sight of them punching a man while wearing the item incredibly hot, was an understatement.

As the rebellion died down, Erron allowed himself to be distracted by their fight. He watched from the sideline as (Y/n) grabbed the hat and threw it above them.

The action drew the attention of the man they were fighting against upwards, his eyes unconsciously following the hat trajectory. Taking the opportunity, they sliced the distracted man's head off. Blood splattered on their face but that didn't seem to bother them.

As the man lay dead, they caught the falling hat and in a smooth gesture placed it back on their head. In the distance, noises of spurs approaching made them turn to the side, tilting the hat toward Erron.

"Howdy partner"

Seeing the giant grin on (Y/n)'s face made the gunslinger's heart skip a beat. Splashes of blood covered their face but his hat had remained spotless. Even when fighting, they took great care not to let the hat get dirty. Behind them, the last rebel died, earning various cries of triumph from the soldiers of the Kahn all around. Erron kept staring at his partner, still not processing how gorgeous they were with his hat on. As they were about to remove the hat to return it to its original owner, a hand stopped them.

"Keep it"

Erron would never admit it out loud that he enjoyed seeing (Y/n) with the headwear. Besides, he had plenty of spared ones. One less wouldn't hurt.

“Much obliged darlin’ ”

Groaning with their attempt at sounding like a cowboy, Erron walked away. He could still hear (Y/n) laughing as they followed behind.

Kung Lao

0o0o0o00oo

You won’t see him without it

Unless it’s to shower or sleep

Takes great care of his hat since well it’s his weapon.

Would feel hesitant to let you touch it after he’s sharpened the edge.

You absolutely love to see him fight with it cuz you find him both attractive and badass while he does

You do express the desire to try it but never get around to trying it

Blame Raiden for always taking your boy out for training or missions

You happened to stumble upon the hat one day at the temple with Kung Lao nowhere to be seen.

You wouldn’t skip a beat before taking hold of the weapon and putting it on.

Liu Kang would find you later and the two of you would start training.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Kung Lao leaned on one of the temple support beams, arms crossed over his chest. From afar, he watched as his partner blocked one of Liu Kang’s flaming fits with his hat.

Earlier that day, Kung Lao had been meditating peacefully with his trusted hat placed beside him, when one of the elderly monks came to him for help. Thinking it would only take a few minutes, Kung Lao had left his hat in its spot and followed the other monk.

The errant took longer than he had anticipated but was done fairly quickly nonetheless. However, once he came back to his meditation place, the hat was gone. Puzzled, he had searched the surrounding area to no avail. Sure, the shaolin monk could have summoned his weapon back to him no problem, but a small voice inside him told him to keep looking around.

He had been near the training ground when he heard the telltale sound of his hat hitting the ground. Because yes this man can recognize the sound of his weapon hitting things.

The sight that welcomed him inside the area almost made him laugh. He wasn’t surprised to see (Y/n) wearing his hat, since he knew fully well about their desire to try the weapon.

Quietly observing the friendly match, Kung Lao was rather impressed. (Y/n) seemed fairly comfortable with his weapon, even imitating some of his own moves flawlessly. A soft smile appeared on Kung Lao's face at the thought of them studying him carefully whenever they would come to watch him train.

Raiden stopped by after a while. Arms crossed behind his back, the Thunder God joined Kung Lao in observing the match.

The Shaolin monk felt a sense of proudness inside him. His partner was wielding his weapon and keeping up with the chosen one. The sight was truly beautiful.

Unaware of the two spectators in the back, (Y/n) had their full attention on Liu Kang, dodging his attacks one after the other.

Wanting to try something crazy, they threw the hat up in the air before sliding underneath Liu Kang's parted legs. Upon straightening up behind the chosen one, their foot connected with the falling hat. Liu Kang barely managed to avoid the weapon as it flew past him and lodge itself in the temple’s wall.

The man turned to face (Y/n), surprised yet amused by the event. There, on Liu Kang’s shoulder, was a small cut left by the hat as it went by him. Which only meant one thing.

“First person to leave a mark on the other is the winner, so this means I won” They exclaimed with a giant smile on their face.

At that moment, Kung Lao made his presence known by clapping. Summoning his hat back to him, he walked toward his partner, Raiden not far behind. Fondness in his eyes, he picked them up and kissed their forehead as a reward.

" You were amazing!"

Lets just say that from then on, Kung Lao would let (Y/n) train with his hat just so he could enjoy watching them kick ass with it.

Raiden

0o0o0o0o

It's more of a fashion accessory than a necessity

Like Erron and Kung Lao, he would rarely remove it tho

Heck, you don’t even think you’ve seen Raiden’s hair once in the long time you’ve known him.

But if you had to guess, they would be white like his brother.

Or he was simply bald.

The idea of stealing the God's hat did pop up in your head more than once

But the thought of pissing off a God for stealing his shit didn’t sound good in your mind.

So you left it to that.

Raiden would sometimes catch you glancing up at his hat and wondered about the meaning of this.

You'd pretty much given up about the hat.

Until the day the hat literally landed in your hand.

It was a particularly windy day at the temple. As (Y/n) roamed around the place without anything better to do, they sighted something strange flying in the wind. Curious about the object, (Y/n) followed it until it was low enough for them to grab it.

Upon closer inspection, the object revealed itself to be a hat. A hat that they knew very well. But the God of Thunder was nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t worry little hat, I’ll bring you back to your owner”

Putting the hat on their head, (Y/n) went on a quest to find Lord Raiden and return the lost item. At least, that’s what they had in mind at first. However, they found themselves quickly distracted from the task as they wandered around the temple.

Somewhere during their search, a monk approached them asking for help to move stuff from one place to another. Being the kindred heart that they were, (Y/n) agreed to help the monk. After a while, they were finally done with the task and went back to their search, the monk thanking them as they left.

This went on and off during the day, with monks asking for help or errants and (Y/n) agreeing. To a point where they had completely forgotten about the hat sitting on their head.

Evening rolled around eventually. Exhausted from their day, (Y/n) found themselves sitting in an isolated part of the temple while nursing a cup of green tea. The wind had settled into a nice breeze which gently brushed against them.

“Good evening (Y/n)”

Looking to the side, their eyes fell on a rare sight. Approaching them was Lord Raiden.There was an air of calmness around the God as he came to an alt next to them. Hands behind his back, he titled his head slightly, making a few strands of hair come loose from the quickly made ponytail. (Y/n) stared, feeling their heartbeat quicken. They could see Raiden's hair and as they had guessed, his hair was indeed white but shorter than they had thought it would be.

Noticing their lack of response, (Y/n) cleared their throat as a way to hide their embarrassment from staring a bit too long. Carefully placing the cup to the side, they stood.

“Thunderbolt, I was looking for you earlier! But it appeared that I got sidetracked and forgot about it.”

Seeing their partner had reminded them of their initial quest.

“ I appeared to have found your hat and wished to return it to you.”

(Y/n) gently took off the item and handed it to Raiden. They had grown somewhat accustomed to the weight of the hat over the hours. So much so that, now with the item gone, they felt weirdly naked.

“It would seem you have taken a liking to it. It suits you well.”

Taking the offered hat in his hand, Raiden thanked his partner for keeping the object safe until it was returned to him. However, the God seemed to hesitate for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the helm of the hat.

"Perhaps you should keep an eye on it for a little longer."

Raiden lifted the hat and gently placed it back upon (Y/n) head. Satisfied, the God of Thunder walked away. Raiden would later deny it to his brother that the mere sight of them wearing his hat made his heart beat faster.

Standing there, the tea long forgotten, (Y/n) watched as Raiden turned the corner. Did he just flirted with them? Touching the hat as if to make sure this wasn't all a dream, they laughed. Who were they to refuse a gift from a God.

//////

Later that night, they would force Raiden to lay down, his head on their laps, so they could marvel and play with his hair.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Self-aware isekai'd househusbands, what a great idea that was. The Vil piece was so fun that I wasn't more!

Can you write Riddle as an isekai'd househusband? Thank you!

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, blood, murder, death, violence, stalking, unhealthy relationship, obsession

Your totally normal isekaid househusband

Imagine, you are the male equivalent of a magical girl in villain version who got isekaid into the normal world

One would think that world domination or something to that would follow, right?

Well no.... said magical girl is right now starting holes into a cookbook

And he kinda likes it- no, he loves to study the culinary arts

Not just for anyone of course

Riddle has become a little helping hand in your home after you found him one day drenched to the bone outside of your little safe haven

But at this point the two of you might be married with you being the breadwinner

In the morning he wakes you up, makes you breakfast, hands you your lunch when you are heading out, cleans the house, spends his time doing... things, greets you when you return gives you food and does more things that would stereotypically be considered as stay-at-home-partner activities

How calm... how sweet... how-Riddle, what are you doing?

Riddle wakes up one hour before you usually do. So what does he do in that hour?

So, half an hour before you wake up he prepares breakfast but the thirty minutes before...

Well he is just standing there, staring at your sleeping figure

Ok. Creepy but at least the time from breakfast till him being done with chores is normal

So uh... remember those “things” I mentioned earlier? Well...

There are those noisy neighbors everyone has, right?

So uh... please don't mention them annoying you in any way. Please don't. Just don't. Oh why? Hehe... don't think too much about what I just said, yes?

When you return Riddle emerges from the kitchen, asking you if everything is alright

Following to that he scolds you for staying out too late

That crazy maniac is running freely out there! All those poor souls lost to them

Your neighborhood might have a... uh... “spontaneous death through decapitation” problem

The crime scenes are clean or rather they are until you enter the room in which “that” happened and you find a surprisingly clean you-know-what sitting there in a chair with their you-know-what laying in their lap, a white rose tucked somewhere in that meat pile as well

Of course Riddle knows that his actions aren't good in any way but when you good him that the old creepy neighbor next door had been scaring you for so long he saw red and...

Let's just say that magic makes it incredibly easy to leave a crime scene without any trace

Ah yes, roses! Let's talk about something easier on the stomach!

Riddle plants of course roses. White ones

Sometimes you even get a few of them, them now being red

You once asked why the roses are red considering that he always plants white ones which he answered with him painting them red just for you

Ah yes, you totally forgot that little thing about his dorm. And isn't it cute? Such a pretty red as well... although the paint is a bit fragile and falls off in flakes if you aren't careful

His pastries are a bit dangerous to eat, he adds sometimes odd things because someone wrote a tip in a baking forum as a joke, but his lunches are pretty good

When you try to help him though he is strictly against it. Especially when it's about doing the laundry

Meh. Probably nothing. Although... you have found splatters of that red paint once or twice on a piece of clothing of his before... probably go it on there the last time he painted the roses red

Though, you do wonder... where is that cleaver that had been missing from the kitchen?

[mamayan]

Hii can I request Gyomei x prostitute fem reader nsfw.....plsss

Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader

cw: NSFW • Darker Themes • Attempted murder (of reader) • Fem! Reader • prostitute reader • Fluff/Comfort • Size kink • Breeding kink • Sub/switch! Reader • Edging/Denial • Overstimulation • Oral (F)

“Namu Amida Butsu. Pitiful creature.” He doesn’t need vision to understand what was going on in the lively square of the red district tonight.

Normally a bubble of carnal desires and pleasure, many forgot the festering underbelly of this part of the city. He’s on a mission, needs to focus and do his job, but something keeps stopping him.

Possibly the kakushi by his side crying softly, pitying the poor soul on a trial meant to convict whether the offending party is guilty or not. How can an upright samurai be in the wrong in any way? It must be the fault of the lowly whore which should have known her place. Such disgusting beliefs made his gut churn, but he’s aware there is little one can do in this situation.

He needs to leave, walk away, and kill the demon living just on the outskirts of this district.

So why won’t his feet move?

“This bitch is getting what she deserves, and let her serve as a warning to all the workers in the district!”

“Oh no, is he going to decapitate her?!” The kakushi beside him gasps in horror, drawing his focus away from his chants to regain his will power and instead breaking his concentration as he focuses on the slurred drunk words of a man. The crowd is thickening, attention drawn to the spectacle but most of all, the promise of blood shed. “Gyomei-sama…” it would appear the kakushi wishes him to intervene.

He can’t. He’s not supposed to anyway. He knows nothing of the woman’s crimes nor any clear indication on how to pass judgement.

“For trying to run from the great Habuyoshi who mearly admired the beauty! For daring to raise these weak fists at the great Habuyoshi! For biting the dick of the great Habuyoshi! I am putting this filthy dog down!” The crowd was cheering, jeering him on, even begging he kill her after violating her for the crowd to watch, or wanting to do it themselves. Gyomei had heard the red light district was filled with glistening gold and red, and it enrages his heart to think such an auspicious color is tied to such a festering diseased place. No one won here. Ever.

Before the kakushi could move, he’d already made his presence known, easily knocking the samurai unconscious.

The crowd stared in awe and fear of the enormous man wielding only prayer beads, defeating the well known samurai of the area so easily with only a single blow.

“Who owns this prostitute?”

None speak up for a moment, tension thick in the air as a savior appears for a once thought dead woman.

“M-me…” an elderly woman far past her prime shakily steps out, her guilty and shifty expression not seen by the man looking at nothing, but her nervous energy radiated off in waves for all to feel.

“I’ll buy her.”

“Gyomei-sama?!”

“Huh—?”

You awoke with minimal pain.

The jarring events of the night prior swirling in your mind and dumbfounding you because what was that?

You nearly died because a strange man grabbed you off the street while you were running an errand and tried to rape you in an alley way. Of course you fought back, but it seems that’s a crime if the perpetrator is stronger than you.

Tears fell despite your anger. You were no longer a prostitute, your freedom seemingly bought out of kindness but you knew not to trust anything given freely. There’s always a price, and your life thus far had taught you to be witty and at least somewhat charming. Though it hardly did much for you last night when the crowd roared for your execution like your life meant so little.

Your new owner is more terrifying than your previous house mother. At least she’d been open about her greedy vile mindset, but this man is nothing short of an enigma. Why did he save you? What is the purpose? What should you do now? It left you riddled with anxiety as you sat in a bed more comfortable than you could ever remember sleeping in, the blankets and pillows too of better quality than the red light district ever provided even for the top courtesans. You’d been given plain but high quality clothing as well, allowed to bathe alone, and then fed a vegetarian meal so delicious you wondered if the Buddhist monks had it much better than you gave them credit for.

Now you slept, in a room all to yourself, with no idea of what was to come next.

Did he want you as a wife? That didn’t seem right though. He didn’t appear the romantic type, and his size alone mildly frightened you despite his soft demeanor and speech. Were you to act as a servant? Did he wish to sell you to another area and call it good karma, leaving the matter as that? It ate away until you could no longer stand it, rising from the bed you longed to stay in forever, and slipping out of your room to explore the estate.

It’s shockingly empty.

Not a soul in sight as you explored, stealing bread from the kitchen as you walked, pondering the possibility of ghost servants. You felt silly and dismissed it, but the eerie silence was begining to get to you. You turned and headed for an opening, finally finding a serene courtyard. You were awestruck by the landscape, attention quickly caught as you spot a small pond with a bridge.

Hope bloomed and then flourished as you spotted several fat pretty koi swimming about, different colored patterns moving around and hypnotizing you.

“Ssshhwink!” You jolted in shock at the loud sound of a blade being struck, eyes honing in on the source as you see a training ground of sort in the distance.

Shock was the least of your current emotions as you watched the enormous man, your supposed savior for now, swing around an axe and spiked flail attached to a very long chain. Surrounding him were multiple dummies, made from steel, as if you weren’t already shocked silly. For someone so large, he was graceful and fast, skilled in each tiny movement and it nearly made you think of a dance you’d seen long ago at a festival when you were a child.

He’s no one ordinary. That’s clear enough, and he’s not a samurai it seemed either.

He could kill you quicker than that man before and he could’ve killed that man too but chose not to. Your heart trembled, because you knew those that hesitated left empty handed, and if his goal was merely to rescue and abandon you then you’d find yourself back to being sold off or worse.

You needed him to keep you, no matter how his appearance made your knees weak.

“Are you hungry?”

One week. You’d been in his estate one week and this was the first conversation you’d had with him since that night he saved you.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Thank you.” He accepts the lunch you prepared, as you learned fast that once he’d brought you into his estate, he’d been abandoned by his cooks. His servants who cleaned or kept things in order were incredibly well trained and avoided you similarly. You’d been cooking his meals and leaving them outside his room in the morning, and he’d usually be gone for most of the day until very late evening where you’d leave his dinner outside his small study or prayer room.

This was your first chance to initiate contact with him, and it made you swallow your nerves as you came up eye level with his abdomen. He accepts the tray, sitting at the small table in the open courtyard. He repeats his chants while you observe him up close for a moment.

He is handsome in a rugged way. His scars surprisingly only adding character. His thin lips and long lashes would’ve made many woman jealous as well.

“This is very delicious. You’re a good cook.” You startle lightly from your day dream as you stare at him with wide eyes, his face still tilted down as he eats.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hadn’t expected to find your company so pleasant.

Your presence was easy, comfortable and enjoyable after you warmed up more, chattering away similarly to the love Hashira at times. It made a strange sort of fondness form in his chest as he listens to your opinion on cherry blossom season, and why mochi is best served cold.

He finds himself rushing now after missions to return to his estate, something he’d never have done in the past. If only to hear your greeting of “welcome home” which makes the estate he’d been given actually feel like one.

You held his hand a few days ago, pulling him quickly and quietly to feel the soft fur of a sleeping cat you’d taken to adopting. He remembers the feel of your skin, the fragility of your hand within his, and how tiny you are. It shouldn’t affect him like this. Yet even as he sits below the icy fall of water in a lotus pose, his aching erection won’t ebb.

He’s ashamed the first time he wraps one big calloused palm around his leaking shaft and fucks his fist to the thought of you.

He’s even more ashamed when those thoughts haunt him in your presence.

He’s alarmed however when he wakes tonight to the sound of his shoji sliding open. Not by the intruder, your footsteps much louder ironically when you attempt to be quiet, but by the timing.

He released his cock and laid still, strangely nervous to appear asleep should you check.

Why were you in his room?

He chants in his mind when he hears fabric rustling, then a plop on the floor as something slides and falls. Were you… undressing?

His room felt hotter, or it may have possibly been him, as the sound of you nearing alerts him to a reason you’re here tonight.

“I know you are awake.” You sound bemused.

“I know you should be in bed.” He replies more shakily than he’d hoped to sound.

“I am trying, but you won’t seem to move over for me.” His breath hitches, and before he can think he’s scooting aside and feeling anxious for the first time in a long time. He’s too old now to be fearful of such a tiny woman, your charms and allure certainly difficult to dismiss but you shouldn’t make his hands sweat like this.

“Fuck,” he doesn’t mean to curse, but when you press your nude figure tight against his side, he nearly embarrasses himself by finishing what he’d started before you’d interrupted. Not that he nor his cock minded your company, in fact it twitched as if excited about your presence.

“It feels better if you face me.”

“What are you doing?” He feels flustered, hands desperate to grab you but unsure exactly if he should.

“Seducing you…?” He hears now the unsure tone you speak with, the way your fingers curl into his yukata to prevent him from pushing you away. He shifts and turns, the futon thankfully custom for his size and fitting you fully as he finally touches you. Your face first at least.

“Are you looking at me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I pretty?” He chuckles, smile making you press your thighs together due to the sheer masculine charm he oozed.

“You are soft.” He drops his voice as he presses a hand to the middle of your back and pulls you closer. His body radiates heat like none other you’ve ever felt, all pillowy muscles and smelling of sandalwood and sage, and something else beneath it that made your teeth ache. “You are considerate and empathetic.” His hands smooth over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips. “You are cute and witty, I find I laugh most in your presence.” His thumbs lightly graze over your eyes. “You are intelligent. I feel I can confide in you and be understood.” Down your jaw and chest, over your shoulders and down your arms to your hands shaking lightly. “You are also mischievous, I never know what you’ll come up with…” his hands come back up, one loosely and easily encircling your entire throat. “Like sneaking into a man’s room in the middle of the night and climbing into his bed naked.” He means to sound chastising but his lust is difficult to mask. Your giggle lets him know you take it lightly.

“Not some man’s room… your room, Gyomei.”

It’s like you want to set him off.

“Should I go?” He can’t deny the way it ignites him to have you here.

“No.” He groans lightly, hands finally taking the dip you’d both been aching for and feeling your chest. “You don’t get to leave now. At least not until you explain what is it is you search for.”

“Relief?” He frowns, but becomes quickly distracted by the malleable flesh in his hands, thumbs brushing over pebbled nipples and drawing little sighs from you.

“A-and… I guess confirmation.” He pinches on little bud, rewarded with a tiny moan and the arching of your back.

“Confirmation for what?” He murmurs, debating if you being atop him would be easier.

“That you like me.” He halts, startled by the confession.

“You thought I didn’t like you?” He clarifies, finally deciding and easily lifting you up by the hips to sit on his stomach, thighs on either side of him.

“I didn’t know if it was the sort between lovers or not…” he nods, finally understanding.

“I want you deeply, sweet girl.” He doesn’t miss the shiver which shakes you when he calls you that, smile tilting higher into a crooked smirk as he lifts his hands and runs them over your ass, gently squeezing each cheek and then moving to touch your thighs.

You don’t speak as he feels you up, quiet aside from small pleasurable mewls when he plays with your breasts or spreads your ass and let’s cool air hit your cunt.

“Do you touch yourself?”

“Y-yes…?”

“To the thought of me?” You feel your body heat.

“Yes. Always to the thought of you.” Your answer makes him groan, hips rutting up into nothing as he squeezes your hips.

“What do I do to you then, in your fantasies.” He’s desperate to know, desperate to recreate it. Your nails dig into the muscle on his chest, dwarfed on top of him like this.

“Oh, well, I… sit on your face.” He quirks a brow at the odd fantasy, unfamiliar with such an act.

“And do what?”

“Let you lick me, down here.” He allows you to guide his hand to the warmest place on your body, his mind blanking as he realizes.

“Oh.”

“We don’t have to do that though, let’s do what you want—oh!” He’s hauling you up like a doll onto his face, thighs spread on either side and your pussy spread and easily accessible now for his mouth. Gyomei doesn’t hesitate now, tongue slipping out as dragging through your folds as if he’s done this before. He hasn’t but he makes up for it with his wide and powerful tongue and eagerness to learn.

“Gyomei! I—ngh~!” Your moan when he licks at your pussy is more than he ever imagined. The wanton swivel of your hips as you grind down only make him more feral, large hands firmly on your ass and keeping you pressed down. Oxygen the least of his concerns as he licks and sucks until your writhing and digging your nails into his hair while you cry out for him.

He likes this act much more than his own daydreams of being intimate with you, the heady taste of your slick and sounds of your pleasure like a drug.

“I’m going to cum—!” You’re so close it’s a wonder you don’t tip over even as he lifts you completely off his face.

“H-huh?” You sound dazed and confused, so cute it makes him want to settle you down on his face again but he stops himself.

You’re on your back, looking up at his figure not blanketing you, one arm keeping him up as he lifts your chin and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips.

“You can’t cum yet.” You feel irritable having your orgasm denied, pouty expression unseen but tone converting your emotions.

“Why?” Gyomei smiles, kissing you again and forcing your mouth open to play with your tongue, sliding his thigh between your own so you can grind on him for relief.

He breaks away with a string of saliva connecting you for a moment, warm breath fanning over you. “It will hurt taking me, but it will hurt less if you cum while I’m inserting it.”

Oh. It made sense actually.

Except he doesn’t move ahead to fucking you like you wanted, asking you for more fantasies you‘ve had of him.

“Using your fingers…” and he opened you up more than any man has ever with his fingers alone. Two alone stuffing your poor cunt seemingly to max and once more bringing you to the edge until you felt like crying when he pulled away.

“Shh,” he cooes, mildly upset he’s causing you distress and equally amused by how cute he finds your grumbling as he rearranges you again. This time he just rolls your clit gently with his thumb and kisses you, lavishing your neck in love bites you’ll surely need help covering in the morning and then giving attention to your breasts.

“Gyomei please!” Your third denial felt nearly painful, your core cramping with the desperate need for release as you wiggle and struggle beneath him.

“You’ll be very sorry if I take you now, be good for me, little lotus.” He kisses away your tears of frustration, once more spearing you open with two fingers until you’re moaning and rolling your hips into him, then he adds a third.

He stills when you hiss in pain, concern painting his features as he moves to pull them out only for your hand to stop him.

“It’s okay! I’m alright, it just stings a little.”

“We can stop here, I’ll make you cum and we can go back to sleep—,”

“No! I want you, please.”

He feels hesitant until you begin to relax, body finally accepting three fat fingers stretching your little hole out as slick drips down his palm and soaks into bed below.

“G-Gyomei please let me cum, I can take you even if I do, I just need—!” You’re so close again, but he’s stringent as he pulls free from your soft tight walls with a pop. Your whine of frustration goes ignored as he finally reaches his own limit.

“I’m going to sit you in my lap.” You’re pliant in his hold as he sits up and drags you with him, placing your back to his front as he unties his yukata and allows himself to be free. He gives himself a few pumps, balls swinging heavy as he sits down with you.

You regret looking down in curiosity. Having known some men, despite being quite big physically, can have small penises.

Gyomei isn’t one of them apparently, his caution not without cause as you see the enormous cock he carries, the thick veiny shaft frightening and leaking pre-cum like a stream. Even his balls were ridiculously large, and you briefly pondered taking his offer of going to sleep.

You shook it off as you felt a gentle kiss to your temple, body relaxing as he began another round of torture to your clit with more gentle rolls with his fingers.

“Relax for me, you’re being so good, all mine,” he’s mumbling, body tense as he holds himself back and prepares mentally to keep calm as he lifts you up and lets the plush tip kiss your entrance. Then you’re feeling pleasure and pressure like nothing you‘ve ever felt before, mind going blank as you cum while he stuffs you to full capacity, Gyomei similarly struggling as he moans feeling your gooey walls contract and try to push him out even as gravity drags you down on his cock.

“Gyo—hah—!” You can hardly breathe, body struggling to connect the pain while you’re writhing pleasure as he wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up and down, still touching your swollen nub, bullying his cock into you one inch at a time. Your squeals of shock and euphoria nearly make him lose it, and when his tip finally smushes up against your cervix, he cums hard.

“I-I can feel it filling me—,” your eyes roll back as hot spurts of cum pump into your womb, Gyomei’s arm like an anchor as he groans and rocks you gentle against him.

“Feels so good…” he’d never known sex could feel like this, that you felt like this, but he’s unable to pull out despite his cock becoming sensitive. Instead he keeps you in place, plugging your little hole with his cock and keeping every drop of cum inside you where it belongs.

That thought startles him. Did he want to make you pregnant? Did he want a family?

More than anything—

Gyomei groans, hushing you as you whine and wiggle in his lap, feeling his cock swelling thick and hard again inside you. “Gyomei—s’too much,” you feel like you’ll burst, body already exhausted but he’s hardly done it seems as he begins to bounce you again, feeling more akin to a toy as his shaft splits your pussy open. The slick squelching noises blend with your moans and his grunts, his cock burying itself as deeply as possible each thrust as he murmurs praise down into your ear.

“So good for me. Taking all of me so well,”

“Do you like feeling my cum inside you? Do you want more?”

“I’m going to fill you up again, make you nice and full.”

“Going to put a baby inside you, let everyone know you’re mine now.”

You’re gone, too cock drunk to do much else but cum around him and moan, drool spilling down your chin in a thin line as he takes away all coherent thoughts.

You awake the next morning sore and groggy, face confused as you look at a room not your own.

You glance down at the arm keeping you trapped, merely draped over you but so weighted you’d need to wake him to move.

He got you filthy last night, cum coating all of you inside and out before he’d washed you and put you to bed. The memory brings heat to your face as you burry yourself into the bed and smile.

He’s yours now too.

Your story to be told as one from rags to riches.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[matchavellichor]

AAAANNNNND another one:

Omi begs MC to let him help her whenever she goes out to slay poachers, ect. She never wanted him to get hurt, so she has always said no. After Omi starts giving her the could shoulder over it, she can't take it anymore, and she allows him to come along.

They bit off more than they could chew, however, and the last living poacher casts Imperio on MC and commands her to kill Ominis. (Poacher's injuries are too great to do anything else. Also just wants to make her suffer by forcing her to slay her friend)

She tries to summon the will to fight it, but it's not working, despite Ominis yelling at her, trying to snap her out of it. She disarms Omi and starts walking towards him. Nothing works until he pulls her into a kiss. It jars her enough that she breaks free from it and kills the poacher C:

bada-bing bada-boom. Happy ending <3

A/N: Finally getting through more asks, sorry for the delay 🥴 This was such a cute idea, ty for the request!! 💕

Kisses Against the Dark Arts

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - Fluff - 2k words

Tags: Minor Descriptions of Violence, Use of Imperius, Crime Fighting Besties, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Banter

Summary: After dismantling a poacher camp goes astray, Ominis resorts to more unconventional means to free his friend from a dark curse.

“Are we almost there?”

“That’s the eighth time in the last half hour,” she huffs. “Ask me one more time and I’ll leave you to the Dugbogs.”

“Oh, excuse me for being concerned,” Ominis raises his hands defensively. “We’re already breaking curfew, we really shouldn’t stay out too long.”

She turns to blink at him. “You’re tagging along to destroy poacher camps with me and your concern is that we’re…breaking curfew.”

“Well, yes, it’s a perfectly valid concern,” he scoffs, as if it’s obvious. “Besides, I have a reputation to keep if I want to be made prefect next year.”

She shakes her head, incredulous. “I hate to burst your bubble, Ominis, but I think your reputation’s been sullied enough just by spending time with Sebastian.”

“Actually, I think it’s the contrary,” he retorts, looking smug. “I’m hoping that if Headmaster Black sees that I can successfully rally in the likes of Sebastian, he’ll consider me apt for the position.”

She considers this reasoning for a moment, before turning him with furrowed brows. “Didn’t he unleash a horde of inferi near the outskirts of Hogsmeade just last week? Is that what you call rallying in?”

Ominis looks unfazed, shrugging. “You win some, you lose some. I pick my battles.”

“Well, uh—now would be a good time to pick your battle,” she murmurs as she suddenly gets into a defensive position, wand arm outstretched in front of her. “We’ve got company, twelve o’ clock.”

“Why do you say these things as if I’ll know what you mean—” Ominis interrupts himself with a shriek as a spell just barely misses his head. 

She swiftly casts a few counterattacks while she ducks behind splintered logs and trees, shouting, “Up ahead, Ominis—I mean up ahead! Was the hurtling bombarda enough to solidify your sense of direction?”

Ominis narrowly avoids another incoming hex, a diffindo this time, rolling for cover into some underbrush. “Yes, thank you dearly for your help—you wouldn’t believe the wonders that near-decapitation will do for your spatial awareness!”

She sends a pillar of wooden crates careening through the air towards a trio of poachers, successfully burying them under layers of debris.

Ominis winces from behind her at the very audible sound of bones breaking. “Must you be so violent?”

An archer catches them off-guard from a surrounding tower and Ominis promptly sends a confringo in his direction, toppling the wizard from his perch in a fireball of flames.

“I hate to be that person, but I think that was arguably a bit more violent,” she murmurs, looking increasingly amused.

“Oh, quiet,” he scolds. “Minor lapse in judgment in the heat of the moment.” 

“Did Ominis Gaunt just make a pun?” she shouts over a chain of stupefies and expelliarmus, amusement and incredulity seeping through her tone.

He rolls his eyes. “It was not a pun, that would be terribly inappropriate.”

Even with a fair amount of banter to slow them down, working together they manage to eviscerate every last poacher with ease, and in record time. They free all of the captured animals with a few alohomoras, and she watches with satisfaction as they prance gratefully back into the forest.

Wiping off the soot on her cheeks from an awry confringo, she walks over to check up on Ominis leaning against a large oak tree, trying to catch his breath, doubled over with his hands on his knees. 

“That was…”

“Surprisingly smooth, right?” she beams. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I thought I’d be casting a few limb reattachment spells by now, but you actually held your own.”

Ominis looks visibly unamused. “Well, you’re going to be casting a scourgify pretty soon…Gods, I’m going to be sick. Is it normal to smell so heavily of charred flesh?”

“All in a day’s work, my friend,” she pats his back a bit too harshly and he dry heaves over the grass. “Though, to be fair, I wasn’t the one going crazy on the fire spells.”

“They’re effective!”

“Effective at making human barbecue, sure,” she snorts.

He groans. “Dear Salazar, let’s just get out of here before I lose my dinner.”

She finally concedes, picking up her rucksack and slinging it over her shoulder when a jet of white light hits her from behind, nearly toppling her over from the full force of the spell that hits her square in the back.

All Ominis can hear is the Imperius incantation sounding in his ears from behind them, and a satisfied snicker from a lone surviving poacher, more than pleased that he hit his mark.

Ominis scrambles for his wand tucked away in his pocket, but the panic coursing through his veins at his friend being struck makes his reflexes unsteady. An expelliarmus knocks his wand out his hand before he can even properly point it towards the aggressor.

“Oh, this should be fun,” a grating voice shouts, and Ominis’ head darts towards the direction of the dark wizard. “Teach you meddling little shits not to poke your snout ‘round where it don’t belong.” 

The wizard directs his attention to where she’s still standing frozen in place, staring blankly ahead, her pupils a hazy white. A cruel sneer stretches across his mouth and he nods his head towards Ominis. “Kill him.” 

She charges for Ominis immediately, forcing the blonde to stumble back, toppling over a tree stump. She looms over him, wand arm outstretched and emotionless eyes staring down at him, before the wizard tsks disapprovingly from behind.

“Stop, stop. Use your hands,” he sighs, almost bored. “I think killing your friend warrants a bit more intimacy, no?” The evil cackle that rises from his throat is enough to make dread shiver down Ominis’ spine. 

Obediently, she discards her wind beside her, landing somewhere out of reach on the grassy field. She lunges for him, pinning him down with her body on his, fingers scrambling to wrap around his throat.

She’s smaller than him, but hours of training in the Undercroft has grown her strength significantly. Ominis finds it a genuine struggle to hold her hands away, her nails digging long, red lines down his arms as she thrashed.

“F-finite incantatem! Finite—oh, dear Merlin,” he attempts to no avail, voice frantic, her name tumbling from his lips in a litany of pleas to get her to snap out of the trance. “It’s me, it’s me, you can break the spell, just concentrate!”

“Uh oh, I don’t think she can hear you.” The poacher sits on a fallen tree trunk watching the entire ordeal, arms crossed lazily over his chest, a sadistic grin pulled at his lips.

Ominis ignores the taunting, using more force against her, collecting both of her hands in one of his while she still claws and writhes above him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Genuine remorse bleeds through Ominis’ voice as he scrambles to push her off him, flipping them over and pinning her wrists to the ground underneath him. “Please.”

The poacher frowns at the sudden change in position, unpleased. “Use the dagger holstered on your hip,” he directs with his wand outstretched to ensure the full-force of the command. “‘Bout time things got more interesting.” 

She unsheathes the dagger in one swift movement, blade pressed against the pale expanse of Ominis’ throat, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

It’s momentary, fleeting, but just then something flashes in her eyes. A brief flicker in the trance, the slightest stutter in her hand, color seeping through the milky haze of her irises. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, but proves useful anyways. 

Ominis capitalizes on this hesitation to wrap his hand around her wrist and keep her from applying too much pressure. A bead of blood runs down the long length of goblin-wrought steel, Ominis’ throat bobbing against the cold press as he swallows nervously. He winces when she tries to dig the dagger in more, cutting into unmarked skin.

“It’s me, hey, hey, just listen,” he tries to keep his voice steady, calming, but it wavers, his nerves an utter mess. “Your magic’s stronger than his. You can break it. Focus on my voice.”

“Oh, sure, that’ll work.” The poacher snorts, clearly entertained. “Maybe you should kiss her, lover boy, she might just be repulsed enough to snap out of it!” He doubles over laughing and Ominis grits his teeth in frustration. 

The suggestion doesn’t fall on deaf ears, however. 

Maybe he can blame the decision later on sheer desperation, a last ditch-effort to save his skin, pure adrenaline in the moment. Although, he would be lying if he said that was the sole motivation. He surges forward on instinct, lips crashing into hers, maintaining one hand in a vice-like grip around her wrist and the other cupping her cheek so she can’t squirm away from his mouth.

She freezes, eyes blowing wide, lips unmoving against his. The poacher is just as petrified beside them, in shock that Ominis had the gall to actually do it.

Just when he thinks his attempt was unsuccessful, the hand she has wrapped around the dagger goes slack, losing all pressure against his skin. She lets it fall to the grass beside them, blade discarded, before she’s bringing it back up to cup his cheek and pull him in for more.

Ominis feels his entire world tilt, his face heating, his brain too dizzy to procure a single coherent thought. It really is a terrible circumstance to have a world-shattering kiss. 

Thankfully, she’s somehow able to maintain better mental faculties. She outstretches a hand, fingers splayed open, casting a wordless accio for her wand dropped a few meters away from them.

The poacher is staring at them, mouth gaped like a fish, which is exactly how he remains when she sends a petrificus hurtling in his direction, another exhibition of impeccable wordless magic—because she absolutely refuses to remove her lips from his. 

He can feel her smug smirk when it hits the wizard square in the chest, toppling him over like a bag of bricks. He would’ve called her a show-off, if he had even the remotest capacity for words at the moment.

When she finally pulls away, his chest is heaving, a red flush creeping over his skin from under his oxford, over his neck and cheeks. She’s breathless when she finally finds her words, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “That’s…certainly one way to break an Imperius.” 

He lets out an awkward laugh before sheepishly helping her up off the ground, dusting remnants of leaves and dirt off her clothes. He clears his throat, trying to feign an air of indifferent composure. “Are you alright?”

She glances at him sidelong, amused by just how affected he looks. “Not sure,” she smirks. “Might want to kiss me again, just to get rid of any traces of the curse. After all, you can never be too caref—mmph!”

While her intentions were just to tease, she can’t deny the thrill that courses through her when he actually wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. Her gasp dies on his lips as he presses his mouth to hers, her fingers curling into his shirt for support when her knees seem on the brink of buckling.

He kisses her hungrily, passionately, as if he wants there to remain no blurred lines between his intentions in kissing her, if the last one has left any room for doubt. This time, she feels her world tilt on its axis, her only grounding point being the protective confines of Ominis’ arms, his solid body pressed against hers.

She realizes she could spend hours like this, and she wonders why for two fearless, poacher-fighting mercenaries, neither of them had mustered the courage to do so sooner. 

“Better?” he finally pulls away, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, coated in smug satisfaction to rival even her own.

“I don’t know,” she grins, bringing her arms up to lock behind his neck. “Maybe we should be really, really sure.” 

[corrodedcoughin]

They’ve been seeing each other for just under a year when Steve points out that they’ve never actually made a meal together. He doesn’t think mucb of it, just a passing comment but Eddie sees it as a ‘couple activity’ and declares that It Must Be Done. And what better reason than to celebrate Wayne’s upcoming birthday?

Now the meal they plan is one of Wayne’s favourites, hearty chilli that takes hours of low heat simmering and ingredient preparation. The pair of them head out to get the groceries the weekend of Wayne’s birthday and start cooking as soon as they get home, hoping to be finished before Wayne’s shift ends. Eddie has dug out an old scrap of paper with a recipe neatly writing along the fading lines detailing the step by step instructions. It’s covered in various stains, the writing has run in places, the condition of the paper is a testament to the love this meal has in the munson household and it makes Steve smile to see something so care-worn.

Side by side they start on the vegetables, Eddie wearing goggles to protect himself from onion attack as he calls it and Steve with sunglasses at Eddie’s insistence ‘Steve this guy is going to be firing stray tear bullets and I won’t let you be a casualty’. The pair of them looking a sight for sore eyes. Fully kitted up in ‘Protective Gear’ Eddie is chopping the onion, letting out little screams of pain and terror as he sentences the vegetable to its frying pan death, acting as executioner. Honestly he’s having a great time role playing as an onion.

In between his tiny screams he hears Steve’s own mutterings timed with his own cutting motions. A notable and iconic ‘vooooosh, vooosh’ clear lightsaber sound effects as he decapitates a chilli pepper, clearly lost in his own little world. Eddie can’t help himself, or more accurately, doesn’t even think it through. He drops his knife and turns to Steve, grabs him by the face and solemnly states ‘I love you’. They haven’t said it before, both thinking it of each other but too jumbled up in their own thoughts to say it out loud, not wanting to shatter what they have.

There’s no hesitation now as Steve lets a slow smile spread across his face and leans into Eddie. ‘I know. I mean….I love you too, sorry tried to do the Han and Leia Thing and uhh I just… I love you’ Eddie leans in to kiss him, intends to keep kissing him goggles be damned but feels a wetness on his finger tips where he’s holding Steve’s face.

Pulling back, he begins to say ‘hey, you okay? Sorry to spring this on you, I-‘

The sentence isn’t finished before Steve is ripping off his sunglasses. ‘Dude. The onions. FUCK they’re strong. Oh my god. Shit shit shit!’ Eyes streaming and furiously rubbing at them. Then? Screaming as the chilli sets in.

Wayne comes home that night to find a chilli half way through being cooked and two very happy boys. ‘Sorry it isn’t ready yet, had bit of a delay.’ Eddie reports from his place on the couch, goggles pushing his hair back and feet on Steve’s lap. Wayne glances over to steve who is sitting back with a wet cloth over his eyes and held in place by sunglasses. Wayne would ask questions but he knows better than that by now. Instead he just takes his jacket off, grabs a beer and waits for his chilli with his family, sometimes ignorance is bliss.

[normal-internet-user]

Hii, I loved the toddler sibling headcanons! 😚🌸

I laughed a lot with it so I think I got another sibling time idea

Let's say that the toddler sibling grow up and is already 18 and the boys found out they have a partner (boyfriend/girlfriend)

I wanna see some jealous overprotective big brothers Headcanons 😂

OH. MY. GOD. YES!

BAYVERSE BOYS MEETING THEIR SIBLINGS S/O

Holy shit, it was bad enough for them to realize you were no longer the poptart eating toddler they found in that alley,

They literally freak out when you spill that you have an S/O.

You had sat them down on the couch and were like, "Ok, heres the deal."

Proceeded to tell them you're seeing someone.

Donnie did a spit take,

Mikey just kinda looked at you blankly, before freaking out.

Raph literally stood up, already muttering about how he was "gonna kill 'em."

Leo was all like ,

Raph insisted they meet them,

But you had to explain to him, (like 8 fucking times), that it was not far enough into the relationship for that.

From the moment you told them you were seeing someone,

They are always following you to make sure you're safe.

You're going on a date?

Leo will be supervising from the shadows.

Hanging out with friends, and you're S/O will be there?

Guess what,

So's Raph.

Donnie literally runs a backround check on your S/O and their entire family tree.

He probably know more about their grandma than they do.

Will he tell you that?

Probably not.

Now as for how your S/O meets the big brothers you talk oh so fondly of?

It was not supposed to happen, and it was totally Mikey's fault.

You were on a date whwre the two of you were just kinda hangin out on the roof of their apartment complex,

Ya know chit chatting and all that,

When this loud ass metalic bang! sounds from behing you.

You shoved your S/O down and as fast as Splinter had taught you whipped out a ninja star,

Then proceeded to almost decapitate your brother.

You were not happy.

"Goddammit Mikey. What are you doing?"

"Uhhh-"

"And I know the rest of you are there too you bunch of nosy nellies."

"Thanks Mikey-"

"Yeah come on man-"

"Geez Mikey-"

You proceeded to chew them out for the next two hours for following you without your knowledge, invading your privacy etc. etc.

While your S/O is just kinda standing there like, "Uhm, wtf?"

After you were done scolding them, You formally introduced them to your S/O.

Mikey was actually kinda chill about it,

Leo gave them the strict no funny buisness talk,

Raph gave them the classic big bro glare,

And Donnie just shook their hand like they were buisness partners or somthing.

You were kinda unsettled by how well your S/O was taking the situation.

After your bro's leave, you instantly begin to apologize, and your S/O is all like, "No, it's fine, really! I think it's cool your entire family is ninjas!"

You just mumble, "Wait till you meet my dad." and you and your S/O continue your date.

With you sending a text to your brotyers the let them know you know they're still there and to go the fuck home.

Lol.

.........................................

This was fun to write, lol, over protective big bros are great.

[yaut-jaknowit]

New Feelings

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader(Platonic)

Word Count: 3057

Summary: During this time, We'ar-ow takes a momentary step back from ruling to care for you. Just in the confinements of her private room though. You come to realize how different she acts in front of company.

Author Note: Had a bit of a mix-up on the masterlist but it's resolved now! I've also got the next chapter finished about to finish the one after that so I'm getting back to writing book. Not beta read. If there is something confusing or stupid, let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 |

In We’ar-ow’s throne room, many Yautjas have come to report to their leader. It was a short line at first when she had originally dragged you from the safety of her room early this morning. A regular amount of people, you had thought at first. It doesn’t just take one person to lead a clan like this. But more later filled the throne room that it finally hit the door.

It’s not like you paid a great amount of attention to them. Just enough to see each of their faces and file them away for a later date. All for sake of one of them being your stalker. Whoever hunted you through the halls of this very ship could possibly be in this room with you. Would they slay you before the Monarch? And what would their thought process be? Cleaning the ship of scum? Disturbing We’ar-ow?

That had you rolling your eyes, head bowed to hide away your emotions. We’ar-ow did not care that much about you to have your death disturb her. Just a fucking pet. Your senses still completely open for an attack. Anyone of them could slip out of line and slaughter you without remorse. These are hunters. Born, bred, built to maim anything in their way. A shiver ran its course through your body.

The tablet in hand was momentarily discarded mentally. The thoughts of decapitation or dismembering filled your head. None of them would blink an eye about it. Just your blood staining the like-carpet material blanketing the stairs and floor. Or the cushion gifted to you. All would be brushed off. Their day would continue like normal. You sighed heavily through your nose and tilted your head back to stare at the strangely decorated ceiling.

A mural of sorts had been painted over the expanse of the ceiling. Only spots of flush lights broke the illusion of how intricate. You shook your head and focused back on the line.

Someone bypassed the entire line and marched up the stairs that lead to We’ar-ow’s throne. Your back tensed at the sight, on the verge of snapping in half. This Yautja, male by his shorter stature, ignored you and stopped before her seat. A nearly playful look twinkled in his sea green-blue eyes. He gave a polite bow to his leader then begun to discuss with her, short, sweet.

“May I?” he questioned and motioned over to you. Your heart dropped to the floor. Instantly, you rapidly shook your head to deter him or her from getting close to you.

We’ar-ow nodded her massive head and returned her attention back to the figure before her. Your jaw dropped at her abandonment. A week ago you had almost died! Maybe, possibly. You didn’t know if death was going to happen that day but it made it all the scary of not knowing.

The new figure smiled with his alien mandibles and spun on his heel to face your sitting form. Terror ran cold in your blood at his first step. The next had you trembling. He knelt down a step just before yours. He wasn’t a young Yautja anymore. The lines and many scars the decorated his skin were an indication. What caught your eye like shining gold was his right arm. The elbow and below was gone, poof. Just a nub and gnarly scars. A well decorated hunter who’s earned his title by the looks of it.

You swallowed thickly but stayed seat on the cushion. Somehow. The Yautja huffed, the lightest of smirks playing his face. He reached out with his only hand and plucked the tablet from your grasp. “Whatcha got here?” he questioned and began to scroll through the page you were on. An article about Yautja Prime, their home planet.

He snickered and gave a look that ‘really?’. The device was tossed back into your lap but your attention was solely on the potentially dangerous figure before you. But… We’ar-ow seemed at ease around him and allowed him to approach you. Something you hadn’t expected after that night and the following days.

“If ya wanna know about home world, you could get it from the source,” he spoke in a voice that gave you smoker vibes. It almost drowned out the translator tucked underneath your skin, behind your ear. Automatically, you glanced over at We’ar-ow hard at work. A light tap to your knee had you snapping back to him. “Not her, ooman. Me!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Him? You just met him. Not even completely! He hadn’t told you his name. He saw the puzzle look on your features and snorted. “Monarch may say she could care less if I dropped off into the space port but she cares, doesn’t she?” What was his point? His angle? What did he want? And why was he being so friendly to you? Did he get knocked up side the head far too many times?

Plus, why did his last two words sound like there was an underlying tone in his voice. “I don’t, don’t even know your name,” you stuttered and gave him a look as if he was crazed. Curse the stutter!

“Oh, right. Thought she would’ve said a thing or two about me. Hurts the heart a little.” You just kept staring at him, puzzled on this whole attitude. He was completely different from any Yautja you’ve met before. Even if the list is fairly short. They’ve never acted so… carefree. Was this the crazy old man of the ship?

“Call me Xilo, short for Xilomere,” he finally introduced. Still tensed painfully, you stiffy nodded your head and murmur a ‘okay’, hoping it was enough to get him to leave. It wasn’t. “And you’re the Monarch’s pet. An ooman who’s been talk of the town for the last half solar cycle! You don’t realize the uproar you caused when the newly blooded brought you here. If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have survived to see the next day.”

He said it so causally. You could’ve died when Dwainet brought you here… death. This was all a horrible mistake with consequences hard to live with.

We’ar-ow stopped them from killing you. She allowed you to stay. Why?! Your eyes drifted back over to the hard-working Yautja ensuring her ship and community don’t collapse on itself. Did… did she want you back then?

A hunter at their core must be patient.

That what it is to be a hunter. What did this all mean?! You gnawed on your bottom lip when the green Yautja before you patted your knee. “She didn’t tell you? Whoops.” Then, he leaned in close to whisper something of importance. “Don’t tell her I told you. Act natural.” All you could do was blink dumbly at him.

‘Act natural’? ‘Act natural’?! He was just as irritating at We’ar-ow with their up front, uncaring, idiotic words! How could you just go one knowing that if it wasn’t for her you would be dead!? Or the fact she might have been wanting you for her own pet this entire time?! Just waiting like the hunter was born to be for the right moment to snatch you up.

All of this was a mistake. You wanted to breakdown all over again. The wounds still fresh enough to ache in your poor heart.

Xilo pulled back with that same cocky smirk. “If you ever need to chat, dear ooman. My contact has been inputted into your toy. Now, I should dip before I spill more than I should about our lovely Monarch.” He pushed back up into a standing position, knees popping with the action. He gave you a two-finger salute, spun on his heel, and left through the way he came.

On his only hand, he was missing his entire pinky and the tip of his ring finger. Something you realized after he already left. You grumbled underneath your breath for a few minutes after the interaction and messed around on your tablet. He didn’t need to announce to the whole throne room what you were doing on the tablet. Yes, you were gathering information about their planet. It’s not like you freely look for ways to escape the mothership right in front of her. You were on the steps, before her throne though to the side. One turn of her head could expose your whole plan.

To be honest, you’ve thought about this. She has to have some knowledge of you wanting to escape. But if she’s not worried… that means she is confidence there isn’t way to escape. But there is. At least to get off of here. Away from being her damn pet.

The like-leather encasing your throat is a feeling you’ve started to grow accustomed to. At nights, We’ar-ow allows you to take it off. Thankfully. But in the morning, it’s back on; with complaints almost every time. It’s a loosing battle at this point. The only way to gain back what you’ve lost is to escape. Away, far from this place.

So, you learned, research what you could about Yautjas. From their planet to the motherships they use to roam the universe to the different subspecies to hunting styles. Everything. To know your enemy is the way to defeat your enemy. To outsmart them, her. It’s the only way to escape.

But is that what you want?

.

Once the day ended, in the middle of the afternoon, the two of you retired back to her quarters. The safety away from prying eyes and possibly danger. Though, to be frank, this was the lions den you not only eat and bathe in, but also sleep and relax in. You ran your fingers through your hair after the door seal shut, leaving you alone with We’ar-ow.

Said salmon pink Yautja strolled across the living room and into her room. Door left open. That struck you. The door always shuts after her. Why leave it open?

Curiosity may have killed the cat… and now you.

You tiptoed across the length of the main room and peered around the entrance of her door. You’ve been in here before. With her permission. She’s never left the door open before though. You didn’t dare take another step into the bedroom.

For a moment, you couldn’t find her until a light flicked on and caught your eye. We’ar-ow’s back was to you as she stood in the doorway of another room to the right wall. The new light shone on what looked to be clothing. She has a walk in closet, what else did you expect from her?

Then, the Yautja began to strip. You felt your eyes bulge out from your head at the sight, but unable to peel your sight away. Its not like you hadn’t seen Dwainet naked before… plenty of times, plenty. He had bulk similar to We’ar-ow but she has honed in to be able to be agile and lethal. Move faster than you could process sometimes.

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes partially glazed over. Her muscles weren’t well defined as some you’ve seen. That didn’t mean thickly corded muscles didn’t lie underneath her thick, pink skin. No wonder many Yautjas looked at not just respect/fear of her being Monarch but for her beauty as well.

Her thumbs shimmied under her waistband and began to push down. This is where you slam your back against the wall outside of the room and slapped a hand over your mouth.

Boiling heat flushed to your cheeks, eyes clenched shut. Why had you done that?! That… that-

“You are missing the show,” We’ar-ow’s voice funneled out into the main room where you were. Your knees nearly gave out right then. She knew. Oh my god. She fucking knew! “Come on out, pet.” She used a honeyed voice as an attempt to coax you out from hiding. She already knew that you were right there.

With whatever courage you still had after all this time, you stepped back into the doorway with your head bowed. She would have to rip your head off to make you look at her.

Pink feet entered your vision. A knuckle tried to tilt your head up at first before you felt her lean down, mouth close to your ear now. “Did my pet enjoy the show?” she whispered softly into your ear. Your spine locked up, chest heaving with unsteady breaths. “Calm, little one. I asked a question.”

Anger flashed to life in your veins was quickly stomped out from the embarrassment. She wanted you to speak! Why does she keep doing that? You felt on the verge of crying. “S-sorry,” you sputtered then pressed your lips tightly against each other. Her knuckle was still firm against your chin, not relenting. But neither were you.

We’ar-ow softly huffed and corralled you to the nearest wall. Her free hand wrapped around your neck and locked you against said wall. “That is not the answer I was looking for, pet.” You best believe she could hear how wild your heart was pounding in your chest. On the verge of jumping out into her hands.

From past experiences, you knew she wasn’t going to stop until she got your answer. Lying was off the table too. Yautjas have a keen sense of smell. They know. You swallowed the lump down, feeling her hand twitch slightly around your throat. “Yes,” you murmured just above a breath. She was able to tilt your head up and you met her eyes.

Far from anger. We’ar-ow looked down at you with an alien smirk gracing her face. Your heart stuttered, but not from fear. She wasn’t furious, not at all. It’s like… oh my god, she wanted you to look, to watch even. It was all a setup. Your face soured. You had nowhere to go though. We’ar-ow had you trapped to the wall.

“Smart ooman.” She read you like an open book. You scowled at her. “I am glad that enjoyed what I offered. I will know what to do for next time.” Then, her body heat left you as she pulled away. “Go eat. There are some berries in the cooling containment for you.” Sometimes the translator wasn’t the most accurate about words.

Blindly listening to her, you unsteadily stumbled your way into the kitchen-like room. In the refrigerator, you pulled out the bowl and berries then added a couple of fruits to it as well. You were still dazed while sitting down on the one-seater in the living room.

A berry was tossed into your mouth. The taste bursting over your tastebuds. They were delicious, not something you expected from a species that looked like they had a stick always stuck up their ass. You scoffed and curled up more on the couch. Your legs tucked underneath your body with the bowl placed in your lap.

As you sat peacefully on the couch, you couldn’t help but remember what We’ar-ow had said earlier. Something on the lines of knowing what to do for next time. Next time? Why would there be a next time?! She… fuck, you couldn’t deny the fact you were watching her, curious on what lied below her clothing. Though, there wasn’t much fabric she used to cover herself. None of the Yautjas did. Nudity wasn’t frowned upon like it is for your species.

Your brows furrowed the more you thought about it. They way you watched… and she wanted you to. She set you up and you enjoyed it!

All thoughts came to a halt… Enjoyed? Did you enjoy it? You didn’t dare answer that. You frowned and shifted once more to have your legs over the arm rest, back to the other side. Another few berries were tossed into your mouth, mindlessly munching on them.

What is wrong with you? You sighed and curled more in yourself. This was all wrong. After Dwainet, you sworn to never feel a thing for any of these monsters. That’s what they are. Dwainet took you from your home, away from everything you knew and promised you love that he clearly lost for you. Now, look where it got you. In the worst place possible. Escape was hard enough but if she was interested in you… that was a whole either situation you had to worry about. At a later date. Today, you had to survive the stalker.

Warm arms scooped you up from the couch. You yelped and scrambled to right yourself but the limbs tensed and kept you firmly in place. When a familiar pink flashed in your vision you stilled, eyes wide and glancing up at the Yautja holding you. “What are you doing?” you questioned, voice faltering.

We’ar-ow held you close to her, against her bare chest, turned around, then stole your spot. A grumpy look fell over your features as you were ready to flail around to escape. The Yautja chuckled and patted your cheek. “You look cute when you are pouting,” she teased and plucked a piece fruit from your bowl. There was nothing you could do to fight her.

Stiffly, you hesitantly relaxed into her lap once realizing there wasn’t a chance to wiggle free. She let a slackened arm fall over your lap. You tensed but returned to your former position, half-mindlessly munching at the berries she snacked on as well. The Yautja didn’t say anything else and seemed to enjoy your company.

Despite the will to fight her, to fight this; after the last week living in the terror of being hunted down by a Yautja has worn you down. She was there. She willingly protected you. She carried you to her room, set you down in her bed, and locked you in her room. For your protection. She cares. To what extent is a great question you would love to answer.

For the time being, you would enjoy her warm body and food she provided. Though, it came with an unfortunate title: pet. Your lips pressed against each other at the reminder. There was always a trade off and maybe it had to come with that title to live a life worriless.

You’ve yet to come to terms with that though. The pain still far too fresh to think of lying and rolling over for her. Or anyone for that matter.

Special tag: @michellefoster12

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 |

[whbfan]

The Two Stars That Fell From The Sky | Part 6/6

A jubilant Michael poured down from a gap in the clouds, accompanied by enough angels to fill the sky.

6666 Knight angels, 4444 Magic angels, and 2222 Self-destructing angels crowded around Michael as they looked down.

Michael had come with his army.

—

Astaroth: Michael…! Wait, this is difficult…

Sitri: …Looks like only our great names will be left for generations to come… Not only Lucifer but Michael in one spot…

Lucifer looked up at Michael as if he were dreaming, whereas Satan’s group tensed up even more, their eyes wide.

Lucifer: Michael…

Michael flushed and trembled, as if Lucifer whispering his name in a low voice alone had brought him to climax.

Michael: Hyung! It’s me!!! Wait, you even have the magic pearl next to you. I knew it!

He called Gamigin the ‘magic pearl’ without even mentioning his presence, as though he still disdained life.

He was smiling at Lucifer, shining his golden, false eye.

He had the fake, golden eyepatch because Lucifer had plucked out his eyeball in the past, but the way he still smiled broadly at his brother seemed to show his almost fanatical affection.

Lucifer: Michael, wait—

Michael: Now, servants of the sky, cut the young dragon into a thousand pieces and scatter them upon the earth and bring me the magic pearl. Kill the impudent Satan and his hosts besides him.

Michael coldly glanced at the self-destructing angels.

Michael: Destroy them as though they had never existed in this world with all your lives.

Michael raised his hand as if to finish his order then regarded Lucifer with a kind smiling face again.

Michael: Lucifer hyung. You cannot fly to heaven, so take my hand. The rest of you, go down and bring him with all your heart. If he feels discomforted even in the slightest, I shall rip you into a hundred pieces.

When Michael lowered his hand, the angels folded their wings in unison and began to plummet toward the ground.

Sitri: …Your Majesty, what do we do?!

Satan: Tsk. We’ll do what we always do.

Satan clicked his tongue once and then stood in front of Jjok who was obscured by the grass, as if blocking him and Gamigin.

Facing off against Michael and his army of 13,332 angels was only one king, three dukes, and one little devil to defend.

Satan scanned his comrades who were gritting their teeth and preparing for battle.

Then, he opened his mouth wide to take a big breath and—

Satan: The victory from Hell begins here—!!!

Satan’s voice rang the large forest.

Birds flew up from the forest and the angel bodies on the ground and in the air trembled.

The back fighting to preserve even a single life. As Jjok looked up at, tears welling in his eyes, Satan’s men grinned as they heard their king’s cry.

BANG!!!

Amidst the self-destructing angels and flying spears of light, Satan’s party stood their ground and began to fight back. It was the second war in the forsaken ‘Paradise’.

Bang—! Bang—!

Each time gunshots erupted from the unseen Leraye, an angel head was blown off.

The never-missing gun, but there were too many angels.

Every time a self-destructing angel blew itself up, Satan was covered in blood protecting Sitri and Astaroth.

As if that didn’t matter, Satan did nothing to protect himself, decapitating angels and tearing their wings off as they rushed at his people.

In the midst of all the chaos, Michael flew down like a light feather falling from the sky and made his way to Lucifer, who neither aided the devils nor the angels.

Michael: My beloved brother. Let us leave this to our slaves and return.

Michael smiled happily and extended his hand toward Lucifer.

Just then, Michael saw something small and irritating flying towards him in his field of vision.

Jjok: Don’t take Mr. Lucifer…! My family…!!!

Jjok yelled, leaping towards Michael shedding tears and urine at the same time.

But Michael didn’t even frown as he raised his hand lightly as if to swat away a fly and pointed toward Jjok with his index finger.

A ray of light exploded from the tip, shone in a straight line for a moment… and Jjok’s body fell to the ground.

Jjok’s stomach had a hole too but for his body and was making burning noises,

And he could see Lucifer’s blank face beyond the hole in the falling Jjok.

The scene of the small devil charging towards Michael, getting a punctured and falling like a leaf played like a slow motion in Lucifer’s eyes.

Although Satan and his party who were in the middle of battle failed to notice Gamigin and Lucifer saw it all.

Gamigin uttered his friend’s name and stretched out with all his might, but he felt like his body was also moving much too slowly.

In the end, Jjok’s body plopped to the ground and rolled over the lawn a few times and came to a limp stop without reaching the tip of Gamigin’s hand.

Lucifer watched it all.

—

He had the feeling that this moment flowed much more slowly than the two years he spent with them.

When Jjok fell, acrid smoke billowing from his body and his unfocused eyes headed for Lucifer—

Michael: Even a lowly, trivial creature shows hostility for us… Hell is indeed a den of beggars that should disappear. Right, Hyung?

Michael jeered at Jjok’s death and suddenly hardened.

Lucifer’s footstep-less feet headed for Jjok.

The mere movement of the First Light was enough to cause those who had been frantically attacking each other to pause and stare at it.

Lucifer’s gliding movements towards Jjok were so benevolent and painful that no one could move, no one could breathe, for the only thing that existed was the fact that they were not to be disturbed, regardless of race or circumstance.

In the scene that was filled with bloody mist, time seemed to stand still.

In the silence, pure white hands pushed through the grass and preciously held up the small fallen body.

Jjok had been attacked so instantly that he didn’t even have a pained expression in his face.

In fact, his eyes were closed in the last brave expression he had as he charged at Michael.

Lucifer stroked Jjok’s body softly with his hand. His moving hand that glimmered with holy light made the scene feel sacred in itself.

All the creatures there didn’t even breathe, and while even the wind stayed silent as though trying not to disturb him, Lucifer hugged Jjok tightly in his chest.

Lucifer lowered his head and murmured as if to share his breath with that tiny creature.

No one heard what he said, but a few angels were sniveling already.

When Michael heard the sound, he came to and yelled loudly enough to ring the sky.

Michael: Listen, slaves of Heaven!!!!!!! Kill the filthy devils!!! Rip and stomp over that thing that soiled my brother’s hands!!!!!!!!!!

Michael shouted, shooting blinding beams from his eyes and fingertips and the angels’ eyes rolled back in their heads at the sound of Michael’s voice as they began to attack Satan’s group again.

Michael’s light pierced Sitri’s chest and he groaned as he collapsed. The spot where the light had passed was sizzling and dug out as if it had never been there.

Astaroth embraced Sitri and eight angels wielding swords of light rushed toward them at once.

Just then, Satan swung his huge Scythe of blood to cut through the eight angels and yelled at Lucifer.

Satan: Damn it, you shithead who shone first! If he really was someone you treasured, prove it!!!

Jjok’s final shout overlapped Satan’s red one.

Jjok: [Don’t take Mr. Lucifer…!! My family…!!!]

Lucifer didn’t let them call him under any titles but Jjok and Gamigin already considered him to be family.

Just then, Lucifer raised his head and handed Jjok in his hand to Gamigin.

Gamigin: Mr. Lucifer…

Michael: [The blasphemous, disgusting one who tempted my brother!!! The main instigator of all this!]

The moment Gamigin quietly took Jjok into his arms, the red light exploding from Michael’s eye flew faster and stronger than ever before.

The ominous glow which seemed to refuse to be contained gave both the devils and angels present an eerie sense of danger.

Sitri: Wait, no…!!

If Gamigin dies, God is the only one who can stop the crazy Lucifer…! Sitri was clever even in split seconds like this and sensed danger.

Just as he was about to throw himself to stop the light instead, Sitri’s jaw dropped as he stopped.

Lucifer’s hand was holding Michael’s ray of light. The light in Lucifer’s hand had stopped in front of Gamigin’s chest, unable to advance further.

Astaroth: He can catch… the light with his hand…?

Sitri: …The first to shine, the majesty of his face was such that even this was possible.

When Lucifer snapped the ray of light in his hand, there was a clang—! of shattering glass as it snapped and exploded.

And then, staring at Michael who had just tried to harm both Gamigin and Jjok, Lucifer stepped soundlessly toward him.

Even in that moment, Michael beamed, thinking that Lucifer was returning to him. But his smile soon slid off his face.

Lucifer’s white eyes turned black as he slowly took a step.

On his second step, his body descended about a foot and his feet touched the ground.

Boooom…!!!

The vibration shook all of Hell once and loudly, causing a few of the angels in the ground to stumble and fall.

Where Lucifer’s first foot touched the ground, it crushed, burned, melted and hardened into the shape of his foot, leaving a footprint.

And when he finally stood before Michael on his third step, black energy, not white, began to flow from his body.

The torn clothes wrapped around his body burnt from his toes and were soon replaced by a pitch black suit.

From beneath the feet of the finished black suit, a snake with pure white scales coiled up from his body, embedding itself as a pattern of his clothing.

And from Lucifer’s head, bright red horns that were the same color as Jjok’s began to grow.

Michael: L-Lucifer-hyung…?!!

Lucifer disregarded Michael as though he was going to answer him, but when he quietly opened his mouth his words resonated through the entire sky.

Lucifer: [Kneel, he who walks on the ground.]

At his words, the angels who were standing on the ground made a collective thump! thud! thud! and fell to their knees at the same time. Their knees were shattered and their bones were visible but they could not even move.

Suddenly, a crackling sound filled the sky. The angels had begun to gnash their teeth and tremble.

Lucifer: [Bow, he who flies through the sky.]

Then the angels flying in the sky were simultaneously thrown vertically toward the ground. The angels in the ground made the sound of something being smashed where they touched.

Leraye: [Damn… We nearly fought that guy…?!]

Aiming his gun from far away, Leraye had soon lowered his gun and was gritting his teeth with his arms around his shoulders,

Lucifer: [He who carries light, worship with the best of what you have.]

When Lucifer’s last words echoed through the sky, all the angels slit their own throats with their weapons.

They cut their throats to the point their necks dangled on their shoulders and the bloody cost of white light sprouting from their necks made the surroundings look hazy for a moment.

Only Michael stood unaffected and unharmed in the silent haze.

No, it wasn’t even that Michael was unaffected but that Lucifer didn’t use his powers on him alone.

Hundreds of Michael’s subordinates had dropped down dead in a second but he shouted at Lucifer as through it didn’t matter.

Michael: Lucifer-hyung…!! How could you abandon us to belong to Hell…!!!

The eye Lucifer dug out began to stream with tears. He was so flustered and angry and upset that he didn’t know what to do.

Lucifer murmured as mercifully as he did when he embraced Jjok but in a gloomy, sullen tone.

Lucifer: I am a fallen angel. I was born as the son of mornings yet set into afterlife.

Lucifer: I have failed Heaven with my arrogance and will repent in Hell.

His gloomy words were an answer for Michael, who was bawling like a child.

A mixture of flesh-cutting fury and child-carrying affection was radiating from Lucifer’s body.

Lucifer: I love you, my brother. Which is why I will give you one last chance.

Lucifer: Return.

When Lucifer lowered his head and looked at the ground, the ground in front of Michael split in two and black energy blossomed like smoke from the crack.

The thicker the black energy became, the hazier Lucifer seemed in Michael’s eye.

Just as Michael was about to shout Lucifer’s name again, Lucifer took the initiative and announced,

Lucifer: I proclaim this land to be [Paradise Lost]. Anyone who violates this area without my permission will not escape this land alive.

Lucifer: Even if that is God.

Michael’s eyes widened at the name he spat out, as well as those of the other devils there.

Michael flashed his golden eye from behind a veil of black energy, weeping and gnashing his teeth.

Michael: How…!!!!! How could that lowly, uncivilized creature!!!!! To us!!!!!!!!! To me!!!!!!!!!

Lucifer spoke in a sad voice at Jjok whom Gamigin was holding preciously in his arms.

His voice was tinged with a range of emotions he’d been desperately suppressing.

Jjok scowling with all his might flying towards a berry on a tall tree, and Jjok’s smiling face flitted across Lucifer’s vision.

Lucifer: This virtuous being is the one who, by his own strength, has gained what is highest with his own power.

Lucifer: Michael, it is an honor you and your other brothers who had everything from the start do not know. I hope you realize it one day.

It seemed as though Lucifer was trying to bring Michael around until the end, but when he raised his head… Michael had already flown high into the Heaven.

When the pressure finally eased a little, the sound of heavy footsteps drew closer to Lucifer. It was Satan.

Lucifer: …….

Satan: ……..

Lucifer and Satan quietly regarded each other,

Sitri and Astaroth were watching Satan with a look of ‘What do we do now?’ on their faces.

After saying nothing for some time, Satan stretched his fist in front of him and spoke.

Satan: I’ll tell the other five kings that a seventh King of Hell stands on this land.

Sitri: Your Majesty…! But—

Satan: Enough.

Sitri seemed to have more left to say, but Satan tapped him on the shoulder and quietened him.

Satan: He has lost his family twice already today.

Sitri: ……I understand.

At Satan’s words, Sitri stared at Jjok while Astaroth stared into the sky.

Then, Lucifer spoke to Gamigin behind him over his shoulder.

Lucifer: I only received things from you. I never did anything for you.

Lucifer: I failed to avenge Jjok nor conciliate Michael.

Lucifer: I… can no longer live my life with a straight face…

Lucifer hung his head, hugging himself with his arms as though hiding the embarrassing parts of his body.

Lucifer: However… I will protect all the innocent devils here until the war of Hell comes to an end.

Lucifer: I am sorry…

An improbable word, an apology from the most noble and perfect of men, but Gamigin spoke as brightly and energetically as ever.

Gamigin: I will always be by your side.

His bright, powerful voice which were at odds with the brooding Lucifer-ian atmosphere, seemed to harmonize them.

His bells sounded a little wet like his voice but Gamigin tried his best to smile again.

……

—

Lucifer: …I am a little tired after talking so much.

The large boulder, no, Lucifer sitting on the rubble of fallen building muttered quietly.

His voice was barely audibly if you didn’t concentrate, which was as it should be because all around him now were hundreds of angels flying through the sky, attacking just as they had when Michael had come down all those years ago.

The angels couldn’t threaten him more because of their awe and fear of the being called Lucifer, and only threw spears and swords of light from afar but it still cut and pierced when they touched him.

Lucifer was in the middle of a battlefield that was just off of Paradise Lost but Lucifer suddenly began to talk for quite a long time about the past as though he couldn’t see nor hear it.

There were devils shining their eyes as they listened to him like young children, breathing quietly to hear him.

Marbas, Morax, and Buer had their limbs cut and pierced because of the spears of light that rained down from above, but they only stared at Lucifer as though they couldn’t waste time suffering.

Probably because of Lucifer’s mouth had opened for the first time in a long time.

Spears had pierced Morax’s arm several times and it dangled from his shoulders, and there seemed to be no more space for any more swords to drive into Buer’s back.

But they didn’t want to miss the voice of their noble king, which they could only hear at such length on very rare occasions.

His voice which was as soft as milk and honey was often languid and mostly melancholy but always tinged with affection for the beings who listened.

No matter what he was talking about he had a voice you could listen to for a thousand years and never get bored.

Morax: …So what happened? Was Jjok buried in that land?

Buer: I do envy that a little… To be the first subject to be buried in Paradise Lost…

Gamigin: I know, right!!! What do you think happened!!!!

When Gamigin jingled his staff with an excited look on his face as though this was the climax of the story, the devils around him rebuked him.

Marbas: It’s loud…

Morax: You’re loud.

Buer: How loud.

Just as Buer stroked his chin with a. Bloody hand and was the last to complain, a small shout came from above Lucifer’s shoulders.

Jjok: What the—!! What the what the what the—!! I didn’t die!! Mr. Lucifer, why would you finish without saying the last important part?!

Jjok: What the what the—!! You guys also know I’m alive!!

When Jjok spoke, Marbas’ body collapsed with a thud.

Beneath his smiling face, a spear of light pierced his throat.

But no one looked back at him. Three blades suddenly drove into Buer’s left chest, who then vomited blood and turned limp with a smile of his face.

Even Morax with his dangling arm fell to this knees and collapsed sideways with a smile. That was how everyone died.

Lucifer slowly stood up from his seat.

Lucifer: Looks like I have been talking for too long. Let us all return.

Gamigin: Yep!!

Gamigin answered brightly from right behind Lucifer.

And he shook his staff with a jingle—! for the last time, raising it high into the sky and driving it into the ground.

Flash—!!

A light as bright as the sun flowed from the ground and the staff embedded itself into and the light flowed into Marbas, Morax and Buer’s bodies.

They calmly sat up as though waking up from a nap.

The cuts had glued together, the punctures plugged. No, they looked even more refreshed than they had before collapsing.

The startled angels opened their mouths wide in surprise and shot spears and arrows again too late.

The devils there began to radiate green energy from their bodies as though they thought the story was over.

Pleasant sounds like the sound of a star shining, wind smiling, emotions being moved began to sound from them.

The angels continued to throw spears and swords of light but were healed faster than wounding the devils.

Marbas was healing Morax, Morax was healing Buer, and Gamigin was healing Buer. They were healing each other at the same time and no wound could even mark them.

Having come back to life, Marbas nodded in a leisurely way and spoke to Gamigin amidst the downpour of spears and swords.

Marbas: So, Gamigin and Jjok who experienced such a thing together are his Majesty, Lucifer’s family.

Gamigin: Yes. Like you hyungs!

As someone who knew their untold stories, Gamigin smiled brightly.

The angels ground their teeth at Lucifer’s party who brushed themselves off and walked away.

Just then, six angels who looked the bravest and had the fiercest eyes flew low and rushed for Lucifer’s party.

Brutal Angel: I shan’t ever let you go, traitor Lucifer…!

But before they could even reach the ground, they slit their own throats in unison and plummeted to the ground as though they had stepped over an invisible line.

Listening to the rustling and crinkling of wings, Jjok who had now taken up residence above Gamigin’s head screeched at the angels, arms and legs spread wide.

Jjok: Beyond this line is the domain of Lucifer! The Seventh King of Hell! Whoever sets foot in Paradise Lost without his permission will not make it out alive!

Jjok: Even if that is God!!!!!!!

Marbas: It’s loud…

Morax: You’re loud.

Buer: How loud.

The great little devil Jjok, who was almost a red lump, or perhaps a slightly white lump, was the first of the Red Lumo family to belong to another continent,

He ignored the devils and continued to bellow at the top of his voice and the angels had no choice but to grind their teeth and do nothing to them.

It was their own and, the land the angels had lost, but the devils had reclaimed. [Paradise Lost].

—

And Gamigin…

Gamigin: [Even after a long time, I couldn’t stop the blood flowing from where Mr. Lucifer’s wings used to be.]

Gamigin: [I only wish I could heal him… but even if I gather the power in my magic pearl, I couldn’t do it.]

Gamigin: [Probably because Mr. Lucifer didn’t want it.]

Gamigin: [That was when I realized that even the magic pearl doesn’t grant all the wishes in the world.]

Gamigin: [Perhaps the blood on his back would stop bleeding when he returns to Heaven?]

Gamigin: But I… don’t want him to go back to Heaven.

Gamigin rested his chin on his hand and stared out the window at Lucifer’s footprints on the ground in the clearing outside the house.

Gamigin: I wish Mr. Lucifer would stay him. Maybe the war wouldn’t be so bad after all…

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello!

May I request platonic hc's of Rosie and a gender neutral reader who's similar to Senjuro in terms of personality? Thanks and have a good day/night!

Hehe! Awwww! Rosie is one of my fav characters. Best girl she is, to be honest. Love her! So, yes. Would be happy to write for our Cannibal Queen! I will have a great day, hope you do too! Once more, a bit short but I love it!

Rosie- Fire Lily

Now. Let’s get this right off the bat. Rosie just picked you off the streets when you dropped into Hell and landed right into her Colony. Rosie claims what she wants, no problem so she adopted you. You don’t have a choice, you are now Rosie’s little sibling and she uses her magic to make sure you look like her and her people so you better fit in

Rosie is your Kyojuro— not joking, she is

Rosie adores how sweet and helpful you are. Always cleaning and helping around her big colony as well as her own home. She didn’t even ask you to clean her floors or feed her people— oh. She doesn’t regret adopting you, she loves you so much already

Yes. Rosie threw you at Alastor when she first begun introducing you around and keeps throwing you at Alastor now so you two bond. Alastor knows you well and he often ‘babysits’ you for Rosie. Since the Radio Demon is your adoptive older sister’s bestie, it’s quite rare that you don’t see him exploring about the Colony

Rosie supports you… yes, you can’t become the next Cannibal Colony leader but you don’t need to be some mighty powerful Overlord to be worthy of love in her eyes. She loves you, as her baby sibling, the way you are and she doesn’t want you to change in any fashion; be yourself and big sis Rosie is pleased

Rosie does listen to you and your suggestions. Does she agree that she doesn’t want her people participating in the next Extermination fightback? Yes, she does. But she kinda has no choice so she comforts you and reassures you she isn’t personally even trying. She may be powerful and influential but she has little strength in that matter

Rosie needs more sweethearts like you. Kind, caring and who can usually see the best in a situation or person?! Goodness. She’s gotten a jackpot and she is quite proud of you. Her little sibling is a little angel, even in Hell and even when they came from the worst situation when alive

Eventually, more and more time you spend as Rosie’s adoptive sibling, you finally open up to her and express how bad your human life was; a dead brother to a unfortunate event, a abusive alcoholic father, a dead mother to a disease. You were upset, shaken and alone but you’re… better now

And when you tell Rosie every detail she’s been waiting to hear, she gives you much wisdom and comfort. You saw the way she helped Charlie? This woman knows what she is doing. She can handle heavy situations well and helps make you feel better, less tense and more relaxed

Rosie may be a doting loving big sister-mother to you but she does encourage you to be cannibalistic. Give you decapitated body parts as gifts, ease you into eating sinners and Hellborn demons. You’re a cannibal demon now, she wants you to be able to eat the way her people do

Rosie gives you hope all the time and she is forgiving so she will forgive you for ‘leaving such a scar on the Colony’s history’. Because, in reality, you may be her sibling but you don’t need to be her heir or her successor. You can live a nice life with her as her cute little assistant

Rosie is open and expressive with the people she loves, platonic or romantic, so she tells you almost everything and she drags you almost everywhere. She loves having you around, being able to link arms with you and dress you up in cute outfits!

Rosie is the type of big sister-mother-bestie to wear matching clothing with both you and Alastor. Suspect Rosie to give you a outfit that matches with hers, to her, it’s a symbol of her connection to you

Honestly. Rosie is raising you. Since you’re a very young sinner, maybe around 13-14 and have died a truly awful death at your father’s hands. You haven’t fully grown-up and dealt with so much so she takes charge of looking after you. Her relationship with you is primarily family-like but it’s adorable

You mean a lot to Rosie, even if she had scooped you off the streets and claimed you as hers less than four to five months ago. It doesn’t matter, she loves you and she hopes you love her back

“Oh… Leitora. That hat is adorable! Where did you find those flowers? Alasta gave them to you… oh, of course he did— nevertheless. I love it! It’s adorable! Goodness, yes! I should make it a new hat! Come with me, darling!”

[sir-adamus]

whenever i think of Ironwood's 'grand plan' after he gets spooked by a piece from a board game i always have to laugh because it was never gonna work, it was unsustainable from jump and only got progressively more unfeasible as volume 8 progressed

"we're going to use the staff to lift Atlas into the atmosphere where Grimm can't reach and leave everyone in Mantle to rot because if the poors didn't want to die they should've been born with money like the rest of us"

yeah cool bro, so given what we (finally) see of Atlas in volume 8 they've got some atmospheric control to accommodate for the temperature and presumably thinner air at the height Atlas is already floating at

and what powers that again? right, Dust. cos Dust powers everything

and you would have to assume that to maintain the current level of atmospheric control in a much higher altitude, that machinery would have to be cranked well the fuck up, which means more Dust is needed. and they can't mine for more because... they're up in the atmosphere, and their supply chain and underpaid exploited labourers got left to die on the ground

so power's gonna run out real fast and everyone's gonna suffocate and die slowly (guess Jimmy really wants to beat out Mountain Glenn on 'World's Largest Tomb')

but let's say by some miracle they do last longer than a week up there - food's gonna run out and they're not gonna be able to keep up supply and demand because they can't import any, supply chain is gone and they abandoned the rest of the planet to die to Salem. hell, water is gonna run out

and then the most ridiculous argument for the plan "Grimm can't fly that high". cos like. no. Grimm don't fly that high, because they don't need to. none of y'all were up there. just like none of y'all lived in the snowy tundras of the north so there weren't Grimm up there. until there were - funny how that works. and Salem's specifically been shown to be able to alter the Grimm without much issue - this wouldn't be a "one day the Grimm will adapt and fly that high" it's "give Salem maybe an hour and she'll make something that can get that high"

so yeah, the whole plan is stupid and it's basically just handing Salem the Staff because all she would have to do is wait out everyone dying from lack of air and then just going up there and taking the damn thing (and then dropping Atlas and causing mass devastation on a global scale)

and then volume 8 makes it worse - the shields go down and Monstra gets parked on Atlas. the plan was dead right there, she's already on the goddamn rock my dude - if you lift the rock now then she's still going to be on it and you will die even faster than you were already going to; like even after Oscar blew up Monstra and Salem was reforming, The Coward in Chief wasn't making any effort to scrape her off the side of Atlas before leaving, he just went back to making threats (which included the baffling logic of "Penny, unless you give yourself up now, i am going to blow up Mantle, and then you won't have any reason to not do what i say anymore anyway" as if Penny wouldn't have justifiable reason to decapitate him for doing that)

'the great general Ironwood' who grew up and came into power in peace time - strategically unsound, incapable of taking criticism and dumber than a bag of hammers

what a hero