#set your potatoes ablaze

[guhamun]

@belliautore said (inbox):

'Happy Birthday, Rengoku-san!' Emily chirps brightly, seated across from him at the table housing an assortment of homemade dishes - many being of the sweet potato variety. 'Another year older, which is definitely something to celebrate in our line of work!'

     ALL THIS FOOD WAS for him? When had Emily had the time to do this? Well, he supposed it wouldn’t have mattered since he had left the estate for hours on end. Even so, how impressive! Did the girls help? Was it just her? Oh he had so many questions! Regardless, Kyojuro did not hesitate to plop down upon the soft cushion that would be his seat, the Flame Hashira practically radiating excitement as eyes darted here and there, taking in each and every carefully prepared meal with utmost amazement. ❝This looks incredible, Brontë-san! It smells just as much so too!❞ Normally whenever it was his birthday and he was able to, he tried to spend time with his brother and check on him, but after the strain with his father, that had become a bit of a difficulty and his visits had become less over time. In all that, it was so easy to forget when the day would come around the corner. It always happened so fast that he was forever taken aback by its approach. That aside, however…it was rude to have a chef left waiting when a meal was prepared.

     It’d get cold otherwise.

     Without hesitation, he clasped his hands together and proclaimed, ❝thank you for this meal!❞ right before picking up his chopsticks and happily beginning to enjoy himself. ❝DELICIOUS! To be expected from you!❞ With every bite, he made sure to make it quite known with a happy chorus of ‘delicious!’ just to make sure that Emily was aware of the affect her food had on him.

[mukumukunomi]

Head Empty. Only You.

OPLA Luffy x Fem!Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

cw: tooth-rotting fluff, no smut, implied relationship, kissing (smooch smooch), no spoilers

wc: 1,110k

a/n: It's been a long time since I've written or been on tumblr. But the new OPLA has got me wanting to share again.

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

There’s a subtle crinkle in the corner of his mouth that indicates when he’s in deep thought. It makes itself known when he’s not smiling, which is as rare as it is concerning. 

He sits so still at the figurehead of the ship. A stark black silhouette sitting against a canvas of oranges and reds. It almost seems to set him ablaze in their glory, as if he’s the ember and the sky burns only when he’s under it. 

Monkey D. Luffy in a contemplative state is unpredictable. What does a man who fears little to nothing contemplate about? 

“Y/N?” He asks quietly, softly. He says it with a hint of cheekiness like your name holds a meaning only he’s privy to. You realize you’ve been staring at him long enough for the sun to completely dip beyond the horizon. 

You clamber up to where he sits, plopping down as he moves to make room. You stare into a watery void of dark waters. The ocean is completely opposite to its usual appearance. Deep blues and purples replace the turquoise and aquamarines of daylight. It's somehow eerie.

His knee bumps against yours, the subtle contact of skin enough to break the trance of silence you find yourself in. It brands your own skin with its warmth. 

“Are you okay?”

He ponders the question, picking at the fibers that stick out of the straw hat on his head. “I’m thinking.”

You roll your eyes, propping your head up with a hand against your knee. He says it like it isn’t obvious.  “Whatcha thinking about?”

He squints into the void. You almost think he’s looking for the answer out there beneath the waves. Searching for an answer in the one place he can’t physically look.

“You.”

Your heart stutters as you answer without thinking. “Why?”

You can’t fathom being the forethought of his thoughts. That someone like him spends hours in the quietness thinking about you. Your existence feels minuscule in comparison. 

He cocks his head to the side. “There have to be a reason? I just like thinkin’ ‘bout ya.”

He’s effortless, you think. For how grand the trajectory of his destiny seems to be, he’s effortless in being simple. Luffy is a man who’s complicatedly simple. 

You clear your throat and try to resist the flush that rises in your body. You hope he can’t see the blush that’s dusting your cheeks when his dark orbs finally meet yours. “What-what about me do you think about?”

A different kind of line creases his face as his gaze smolders. You’re familiar with this crinkle. It’s the dimple of his cheeks when he smirks. It jars you how much of a difference one dimple makes. He’s like starlight in the darkness.

Confidence is not something Luffy lacks. But when he’s especially sure about something, there’s nothing anyone can do to change his mind.

“Everything!” He says, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “I like when we sneak into the kitchen at night. Oh! Or when we pranked Sanji by replacing the potatoes with tangerines! Or how about the time we convinced Usopp to paint Zoro’s face with ink and it wouldn’t wash off for days!”

He taps your entwined hands against his knee in excitement. You can’t help but be infected by his joy as he babbles on.

“And remember when Nami got so mad when we spent half her berry on that weird fortune teller? They turned out to be fake! But then you smiled and said…”

He trails off then, staring at you. You’re not sure where his mind is heading as the silence stretches longer than you anticipate. 

“...you said as long as we’re together it doesn’t matter what the future holds.”

Suddenly, you’re no longer sitting beside him. A tug on your hand invites you to settle for straddling his lap instead. You can’t help but melt into the hug he gives, returning it as your hands settle just at his shoulder blades. His hands around your waist and nose brushing against your neck sends a flutter of butterflies to your stomach. 

He inhales you like you’re the oxygen he breathes. “I’m always thinking about ya' when you’re not beside me.”

A torrent of emotion whirls inside. Luffy is always physical. He has a touch-starved obsession. He craves closeness with others and doesn’t discriminate in who that applies to. But here with just you two, you suddenly feel the full brunt of his affection. You don’t know what else to do but hold him tighter and bury your face in his shoulder.

“Hey, look at me.” He demands. He pulls away slightly to hold you a hair's breadth away, noses almost touching, as he searches your face. “Talk to me.”

He’s always so jealous of your attention. You squish the hollows of his cheeks together as you grasp his chin. Your eyes rove over his facial features and trace the contour of his brow. You follow it to the scar under his eye and down his jaw until you finally land on his lips. He looks like a blow fish, utterly ridiculous in your grasp, but there’s a glint in his dark orbs. It's as dangerous as the glint of a knife in the dark.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. 

“You know what I think about?”

“Whaf-?” He tries to ask. The words don’t quite form in their current state puckered between your fingers. His eyebrows raise dramatically to emphasize his curiosity instead.

“How much I like kissing you…and when I’m going to kiss you again.” You smile deviously when that glint of his seems to sparkle. 

He giggles at you. It’s boyish compared to the look on his face. He pulls himself from your grasp. “How about now?”

You feign a look of surprise, looking around in mock confusion. “Now? Here? Are you sure now’s a good time? I thought you were too busy thinking about me alone in the dark.”

Your teasing earns you a pout. He whines as you give a hearty laugh.

“You’re such a big baby-” You begin, but Luffy surprises you by grasping your chin and slamming your lips together. 

His kiss is electrifying despite the fact his rubber constitution should make it impossible. It sends tingles up and down your spine and you hum as he traces the outline of your lips with his tongue. He sighs when you open your mouth. Your heart is open and tender in this moment, and he cradles you like you’re as important as the hat on his head. You are. He reminds you everyday.

Eventually, the cold spray of the ocean’s waves is forgotten.

[krysalla]

rack of his / pound of flesh

thomas hewitt x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

read on ao3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, cannibalism mention, blood, pregnancy mention, baby trapping (?), bad sex :(

It’s one of those insufferable days. The clouds are brewing in the sky with the sun still blazing behind them, creeping its heat into the moisture in the air. Even with the clouds, nothing stops the temperature from rising. What is it that they say about the frog in the pot? If you slowly turn the heat up, the frog won’t notice that it’s being boiled to death until it’s too late and its muscles are cooked away until they are of no use to him anymore. You wouldn’t be surprised if one day, you would share that same fate thanks to the Texas summers. Though, maybe it would be your own fault, you choose to be outside, rain or shine, to work the laundry. It’s easier for you, even if your hair and clothing are soaked in sweat and your whole body burns from exhaustion. You get to be on your own with only Luda Mae’s eyes glaring out the kitchen window, trying to drill a hole in the back of your head. 

Out here on the back porch, there is no bickering, no staticky TV to set your head ablaze, no one to answer to and no one to make cruel, lecherous comments about you. Sitting on the porch swing, a bucket of water between your feet, the chirping of the birds and your own singing is as close to paradise as you can get in the Hewitt farm. They all sequester themselves inside, hiding themselves away from the rest of the world in this decaying house. Out here, you think of your life before. You wonder how long it took for your mother to report you missing when you didn’t show up on her doorstep like you had planned with her. Has your sister noticed a gap in between her ribs, like you do, where you always kept a piece of her? You can’t remember what color your kitchen cabinets were or if your bedroom window faced east or west. You can’t remember the title of your thesis paper. Maybe you didn’t decide on one before you took off for the holidays. Did your advisor like your last submission?

It’s easier not to think of before and focus on the now.

You have a garden that you keep and a perpetual workload of laundry to do.

You’ve been working on one of Tommy’s shirts for the last five minutes, trying to rub the blood out of the cream fabric, but no matter how much you scrub or how much soap you use, the stain just won’t come out. You’d been hoping to save this one, it’s his best shirt. You sigh and drop it into the tub with clean water. It’s hopeless to even try and make anyone in this family look presentable. A sheepskin does little to make a wolf look friendly.

“Baby, come ‘ere!” Luda Mae shouts from the kitchen.

“Coming, mama.” You wring out the water in Tommy’s shirt and lay it flat on the seat next to you. 

You heft yourself off the swing and make your way inside. 

The air is just as thick, heavy and miserable and dank as it is outside. At least outside, there was a breeze. The air in the house is stagnant and reeks of sweat and blood and the scum of years worth of build up when Luda Mae had felt too hopeless to clean, before the Hewitt’s had come into their own. Now, it seems as though there is no way to get rid of the filth. No matter how hard you scrub the walls or how much bleach you use, the yellow tint won’t wipe away.

Luda Mae stands with her back to the counter, a large knife in hand. Behind her, you can just make out a cutting board and vegetables pillaged from your small garden. So much for a bountiful harvest. She pulled the potatoes and carrots from the ground too soon.

“Almost done with the laundry?”

You wipe your hands down the apron wrapped around your waist. A nail snags on a loose thread. Your hands are all dried and eaten up from the detergent. “Yes, mama. Just gotta finish wringing out the water and put ‘em out to dry.”

“Don’t bother putting them out on the line. A storm’s coming in. You’ll have to string them up in the family room.”

You tighten your jaw and quickly glance out the doorway leading to the room. Monty and Hoyt are out there watching TV. They make it so much harder to get anything done, especially Hoyt. Monty for the most part leaves you alone unless you block his view of the television or upset that pitiful dog that he keeps on his lap, but you can feel his eyes on you nonetheless. Hoyt will get in your face for no reason at all, just to scare you for his own kicks. 

You don’t school your twisted expression fast enough. She catches the contempt curling on your lip.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Luda Mae smiles with that wolf grin, laying out her trap for you.

“Nothing, mama.”

She comes close to you, knife still in hand, and even though you’re taller than her, she still has the presence to have you shrinking in on yourself. This little, old lady has just as much of a proclivity to violence as the men. She’s mean and cruel and you can’t help but wonder if she’s always been this way.

“You think you too good for this family, girl? Don’t insult me with ‘em lies of yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers and my boys will fall right in line. You think you’re here because of my boy? I am the be all and end all of this house. Just one word and you’ll be next on the serving platter. No matter how much my boy thinks he loves you, you ain’t family.”

You hang your head like a scolded child, “‘M sorry, mama.” 

She coos and sets down her carving knife on the counter. It’s a complete one-eighty that leaves your head spinning and stomach knotting. Luda Mae holds your face in her hands and tilts your head back to face her. Gone is that terrifying look in her eyes. Now, she treats you with the tenderness of a mother with her child.

“I know you’re sorry, baby, but you gotta know the way it works. Don’t want to lose the only daughter I ever had.” Luda Mae runs her hands down your shoulders, over your arms, squeezes your hands. She can be very affectionate with you when the mood strikes her. Your skin crawls as she clicks her tongue. She chucks you chin. “Now, give mama a hug.”

You wrap your arms around her back and push your face into her shoulder. You can feel the sting of tears, hot and angry, in your eyes and you will them to go away. You hold onto her tighter and she rocks you from side to side on your feet, cooing and shushing you with a spindly hand stroking over your hair.

“I love you, baby,” she says when she breaks the hug.  

“I love you too, mama.”

She kisses your cheek. “Now, go bring Tommy in from the barn. I’ll have dinner done soon.”

“Yes, mama.”

---

Anxiety is coiling deep in your stomach and you’ve only got until you reach the barn to shake it off. No matter how much he might worry and fuss over you, you know Luda Mae is right, at the end of the day if she wanted you dead, Tommy would follow her orders. He is a dutiful son after all and family–blood– comes first. Tommy is dangerous, but not to you, not without Luda Mae pulling his strings. There’s no way you make it out of this alive without her complete and total confidence or until she is rotting six feet deep.

What bond can compare with a parent and their child?

You look up at the sky. Luda Mae is right, there is a storm coming. The clouds are darker now and the breeze has started to pick up. 

The barn doors are wide open. It’s dark in the barn, cluttered with rusted over farm tools intermingled with suitcases and mountains of car parts and an engine that someone in the family had the intention to put back together again. It looks better than the last time you were in here– though it was much darker then. There aren’t so many hiding places. You wonder if Tommy has found your suitcase yet.

“Tommy?” you call out. 

You hear a rustling from the back of the barn followed only after a few short moments by Tommy and his heavy footfalls. He looks subdued, as close to looking happy as he gets, his shoulders are relaxed and his pace lazy as he makes his way to you. You watch him carefully. As much as you might hate it, you care about the man that has taken you captive. It’s wrong and you know that deep down, once you break free from this family, you will no longer have any tenderness for him. He’s treated you well enough since you stopped fighting every second you could. He keeps an eye out for you, always keeping you out of trouble, and when he has no work to do, trails after you like a lost puppy imprinting on the first kind soul to reach out to him.

There’s one other way to make it out alive.

You know what your saving grace will be, what will solidify you as a Hewitt and give you the reins to control Tommy, to end the ever present danger he presents to you. A child. You will give him a family of his own, one of his making and one that will come willingly. You will give him everything he has been denied. You will become mother and wife, madonna and whore, prey and predator. Luda Mae will have her reckoning.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You reach up on your toes to press a kiss to the leather covering his cheek. “Look how much work you got done. Very impressive.”

He huffs, quick and short, and bows his head in an almost bashful manner. You hem and haw and lay it thick with compliments as you walk around the mostly cleared out area. You really play it up for him and maybe just a little bit for yourself just so you can glean a smile out of him, no matter how small, and make blood flow to his cheeks. It will serve as an opening.

There’s a smudge of dirt on his forehead and that just won’t do. You lick your thumb. He gently swats at your hand, grunting low in displeasure, but you pay it no mind— he’s only pretending not to like your gentle fretting. 

“Oh, quit that bellyachin’ of yours. I wanna be able to see that handsome face of yours.” That earns you a small victory. You catch the crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes, right above the cut of his mask. His guard is down.

The wind picks up outside. You can hear the drops of light rainfall. 

“Do you love me, Tommy?” you ask quietly. You brush his hair out of his face, clearing up his eyes so you can see his answer. 

Your question takes him off guard, shoulders stiff and eyes wide. He looks around the barn, looking for something, someone. The Hewitts don’t talk much about before when you’re around, something you will never be privy to, but you can guess why he’s looking around for someone to come out from the thick, wooden beams to laugh and point and mock at him. Big, stupid, ugly animal. He’s not the average man and in a small town, you can only imagine not fitting into the norm can only have meant one thing for him: cruelty.

“It’s just you and me, Tommy.” You look conspiratorially around the barn with a sly smile. “I love you. Don’t you love me too?”

His eyes go wide, and you’re sure he believes you when he nuzzles his cheek into the palm of your hand. Maybe one day it will be true. For now you’re playing a game of survival. He pushes your hands away from his face and pulls you by your wrists until your chest touches his. Large hands pet over your back, your shoulders, down to the wide breadth of your hips and back up over your face. He creeps over you like a spider. He must be craving this, he’s never been particularly touchy with you, no thanks to Luda Mae who watches you like a hawk when the two of you are together. I won’t have any hussies in my home, she said to you when she stripped you bare of the clothing you arrived in. She threw your denim shorts and tank top and anything else in your suitcase she deemed inappropriate into the fire. 

You take a deep breath and slide your hands down to his chest and push him away from you. There is no force on earth that could get Thomas to move unless he allows it. He takes a small step back and whines, brow drawing down in hurt betrayal. You ignore his whining and make your way over to the cluttered workbench. The table top surface is a little too high for you to be able to push yourself up on, but you’re sure Tommy will be able to help you out here. 

You pick up the edge of your dress and pull it up, giving him a view of your leg, and crook the index finger of your free hand to him. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

His nostrils flare and his eyes widen as he follows the curve of your calf. The display you make of yourself makes him look hungry. You catch his tongue peek out from his lips and lick over them, there’s a sharp glint of teeth in there too. His steps are heavy as he approaches you and your stomach turns over. There’s no going back after this. You are making a permanent home in the belly of the beast. He won’t let you go after this, not when he will have everything he has been denied– love, affection, a warm, wet cunt to stick his cock in. You may not escape, but it will guarantee survival, especially if the fruits of your labor begin to show.

His hands fall on your hips and he lifts you clear off the ground. You shriek, holding tight to his shoulders. You’d been expecting it and yet it still surprised you. The strength of his arms give you something no man has been able to do for you. Even after he sets you on the table, you still cling to him, heart pattering in your chest from the anxiety of being dropped. He heaves you up as if you weigh nothing to him. 

He seems pleased with himself. 

It’s gotten so warm, it’s crept under your skin, crawling throughout your body.

You grab the wrist of his left hand and bring his fingers to your mouth. He tastes like sweat and grime. You lap your tongue around his index and middle finger, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. You suck and and suck, and you can feel saliva falling from the corner of your mouth as you work his fingers. It slides down his fingers, into the creases of his palm and to his wrist where your hand wraps around him.

“C’mon, big boy.” You suck in a breath and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Show me how bad you need it.”

He grabs your thighs, his short nails bite into the fat of your thighs and he pries them apart, pushes himself further into your space, crowding you until you’re overwhelmed with him, hips aching as you accommodate his sheer size. Anything you were going to say, even if you could work out a word, is snatched from you when you catch his heady gaze, eyes dark and unwavering, waiting for any slight movement or any tell of yours.

You force his hand between your legs, fixing his fingers beneath your panties and rock against him. You moan loud and exaggerated, just to break him out of whatever spell you’ve got him under and get him to make a move.

He curls his fingers into the crotch of your panties and yanks at them. He tugs your underwear off, the cotton stretched out and the elastic useless. It gets caught around the tops of your thighs and Tommy manhandles you, moving your body like a doll to pull the offending garment down your legs and flip your skirt up for his own viewing pleasure.

You don’t have time to scold him. Underwear is invaluable around here, especially pairs that fit. Tommy drops down onto his knees and lands with a loud thud. It’s the last thing you expected of Tommy– you had a suspicion he really wouldn’t know what to do except to ram himself into you from behind like animals do. He must have seen this on one of the many gutter trash pornos Hoyt has on video, the fucking pervert.

There is no technique or finesse to what he’s doing. He just tears into you with teeth and tongue. He’s making a sloppy mess of you. 

You take the reins, knotting your hand in his hair and pulling him back from your cunt. “Fuck, just a little less teeth, Tommy.”

You push his head back into you. He listens. He drools against you, the only source of wetness that you’re sure you will need in time. You’re too stiff, too on edge to feel anything. There’s no grace in his movements, his tongue completely misses your clit and his lips are too rough against you. 

You grip his hair as hard as possible and yank him away. “That’s enough. I need you.”

With one hand, he does his belt and tugs his pants down enough to free his cock, and the other to pull your neckline down to expose your breasts. You look down at him. Your heart skips a beat and your lungs struggle for air. It’s a fucking beast, a lead pipe that will split you in two. You’ll die before you even get a chance to see your plan through. 

There’s no consideration on his end or he simply doesn’t know. He pushes into you with no warning and you cry out. The wind washes out the sound. 

You feel like you’re on fire, burning from the inside out with how he stretches you open. The pace he sets is brutal beyond belief. You lean forward, one arm draped loosely around his shoulder and push your face into his neck. It hurts with the minimal lubrication you’ve got, just his messy display of eating you out. You try to smother your grunts of pain against the thick column of his neck, you close your eyes and clench your jaw, trying to find anything pleasurable in this act. There’s nothing you can do now.

He doesn’t sense your discomfort, just continues pushing through it. He pulls you closer, big hands pawing at your back, fingers catching in the fabric of your dress, before he remembers your chest is exposed. His hands come circling around and even his hands are not big enough to hold your breasts in full. You look down at the flesh spilling out between his fingers and you moan. The sight turns you on more than it should.

The way he looks, hungry and wanting more, makes you act. You tear the leather mask from his face, your nails scratch his cheeks from the force of you fitting your fingers under the mask. He grunts. His face is ruddy and pockmarked from both his skin condition and his own self mutilation, his nose rotting away. His brow is heavy and thick and his eyes the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen. He’s beautiful and your heart lurches in your chest when the thought comes tumbling through you. It’s sick and you lash out against him, this is all his fault and you will make him pay.

You lay into him and bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Warmth overflows in your mouth, the tang of iron on your tongue and a bit of flesh stuck between your teeth. You smile into the wound you inflicted on him and lap at the blood pouring out of him. You’ve gotten your pound of flesh from him. 

He fumes, glaring down at you with a deep frown set into what is left of his lips and snarls, showing off the glint of yellowed, sharp teeth. You push your fingers into the bite you gifted him with, collecting the blood and smear his over his mouth, fearing no repercussions as he nibbles on the finger that breeches his mouth. He could very well bite it off, but he won’t. He won’t bite because to Tommy you’re family now and family ain’t meat. Meat is mean and angry. Meat is filth and stink and lesser than. Meat is a corpse wasted on a walking, talking sack of shit. He loves you and being loved makes you family. You are family, so you are better than meat.

He picks up his pace. The sound of flesh smacking is almost too much. You can feel yourself grow wetter and feel the ease he thrusts with. You choke out a moan. He pushes you down by your shoulder onto the messy workbench. Something digs into the middle of your back. You squirm against it, but he pays you no mind. He is busy positioning you exactly how he wants— your ass close to the edge of the bench, your legs wrapped around his waist, his weight resting on his forearms, leaving no room for you to escape. As if you could. 

Outside, the rain begins to pour with fervor. 

It’s all starting to become too much. His weight, the heat, the thick of him splitting you open. You clench down, hoping to encourage him to finish. You can’t take it any longer. There’s no room to breathe beneath him, what little air you can manage is punched back out of you with each thrust of his cock. The guilt and fear rearing its ugly head again. It’s been too long, you need him out of you, off of you. You dig your nails into the flesh of his back, scratching as hard as you can, leaving red welting lines down the planes of his shoulders. He grunts louder. He likes it, you think. 

This is sick, this shouldn’t be happening. You should be at home bickering with your roommates about who’s turn it is to do the dishes or tucked away in the library, scouring through the library catalog to find just the right book for your thesis. You would have already graduated if Tommy hadn’t yanked you by the back of your shirt out of your car. Your future was bright and full of potential and now you’re here, crushed under the weight of a man who kills without remorse, trapped by a woman who wants a daughter but will not value you the same as a son, and planning a pregnancy that will inexplicable tie you to this family, to this chapter in your life until death. You cry out.

He comes soon after and you feel disgusting.

He pulls out and his spend leaks out of you onto the dirt. You wipe your tears away and piece yourself back together into the character of hopelessly in love with the man who has taken your life from you. There’s no time to feel sorry for yourself. 

You grab your ruined panties from beside you and clean yourself up as well as you can. 

His blood has started to coagulate around your bite. He gingerly puts his button up over it, careful not to disturb the bite mark and start the bleeding over again. The last thing you need is Luda Mae questioning why he’s bleeding and what exactly you two got up to in this rundown barn.

Thomas offers you his hand, ready to help you down off the workbench, but you press your dirty underwear into his palm instead. He takes them eagerly, stuffing them into his back pocket. He’ll sniff at them later, keep them under his pillow and when he finally can’t smell you on the fabric, he’ll finally give it back to you for washing. It’s not the first time he’s hidden a pair of your used panties around for his own private pleasure. You’d found your blue panties mixed in with his clothing. The fabric was stiff and coated in white.

You brace your hands against the edge of the bench but before you can push off, his hands encircle your hips, gently lifting you up from the bench to avoid scraping the back of your thighs or your ass along the wood, and sets you down on the ground. His hands pet over you again, mussing up your hair in an attempt to smooth it, his fingers too big and gentle touch unpracticed. His fingers get caught in your hair and he frowns. You pull him apart from the nest he’s made in your hair with delicacy.

Are you supposed to hate him or love him? He’s the reason you’re here, why you are under the constant threat of butchery, but he treats you with such care even after he destroys you.

“C’mon, your mama will be wondering where we went off to,” you murmur.

The sky has turned dark blue, almost black, with heavy storm clouds. Hail the size of nickels and rain pelts down from above you—it takes only a moment before your dress is completely soaked. Lightning splits open the sky. The storm rages, wind blowing so hard it sends the rain horizontally. 

Tommy looks down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and he presses his forehead against yours. You close your eyes. It’s so nice to be treated like glass after such rough handling. He takes your hand in his and your heart shatters. Why are you letting a few gentle touches turn you upside down? 

You are guided back to the Hewitt residence but the light flooding out of the kitchen window.

Luda Mae is full of accusations when you come back through the door, her eyes narrowed at you–always the first to be blamed. “What took you so long?” 

Under the weight of her stare, you feel like she knows exactly what happened, like she can see it on your face. You feel something trickle down your legs. You’re not sure if it’s rain water or cum. You hope the rain has washed away the scent of sex and sweat on your skin. 

You let go of Tommy’s hand and duck your head in supplication to Luda Mae. “Sorry, mama. Tommy was showing me all the hard work he did today.” 

“That so?” Luda Mae turns to Tommy and her whole demeanor changes. She smiles so wide and reaches up to cup his face. “You’re such a good boy, Tommy.”

“Go on and set the table, baby,” she directs you. “Let Monty and Hoyt know it’s time to eat. After that you can finish hanging the laundry. You gotta finish your chores if you wanna eat.”

You breathe deeply before giving her your best smile, “Yes, mama.”

“Now you go and sit down, Tommy. It’ll only be a minute.”

---

You’ve long stopped thinking about the implications of this child’s conception, it’s less than moral reasoning. They will not be born out of want, but of need for your own survival and assurance of your status as a Hewitt. You will have a leg up for giving Thomas a child and Luda Mae a grandchild. While it might not provide you with the status of matriarch, you will hold more sway over Thomas. Besides, Luda Mae can’t live forever. Once they are all gone, it will be easier. You will take the child with you and hope that they are young enough to forget about the Texas heat and the stench of blood.

Tommy presented you with a ring not long after that day in the barn. It didn’t fit right, nothing here does. It hangs around your neck on a delicate gold chain. Hoyt had hooted and hollered and went out, drunk as a skunk, with his shotgun and shot off two rounds. Luda Mae had been as happy as a clam–her boy was finally getting everything he deserved.

You wear the ring, biding your time. 

Luda Mae has let you move into the same room together. Privacy has given you more chances to try for this hypothetical child.

You wash out the blood in your underwear in the sink. It will catch one day and when that day comes, you will no longer be at the bottom of the food chain. You will be a prized bitch for breeding. What an honor to carry on the Hewitt name! 

You will suffer the sickness, the distortion of your body both temporary and permanent. You will endure hours of labor, blood and mucus membranes spilling out from you by the buckets, the shifting of bones and tearing of skin for a child that will come out too big for your body. You will put yourself through the wringer for just a taste of the power that will come from it.

Tommy has no idea about your intentions. It’s sweet almost how he doesn’t sense what you're doing and you almost feel guilty for using him this way, letting him soak up all the physical attention he’d been denied by other women, but he will be overjoyed at the results. Tommy will be a good father. He will teach them how to pluck a chicken clean, how to suck the marrow out of a bone, the proper way to cut an artery to drain an animal of blood, how to use every piece of livestock so nothing goes to waste–all the same things he taught you. He will love them fiercely as he loves his mother. He will be a protector. You’d never planned for children yourself and you have no warm or soft feelings at the prospect of your future child. This child is just a means to an end. Maybe one day you will grow to love it. Until then, you have other things to worry about. 

There is food to grow and laundry to do.

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

Monsters walk at night (Monster!Price x f!reader)

Another one for @glitterypirateduck Price writing challenge!

Scenarios used, 16. ‘A Pursuit takes place’ and 44. 'A world where mates exist':

Warnings: monster fucking, NSFW, unprotected p in v, partial smut, literally getting chased down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started off as an innocent walk through the woods by the large cabin Price had rented, (seemed more like a house when you saw it), stating you all needed a break. He had distributed the rooms when you all had arrived, securing the perimeter and making sure the security cameras and alarm system worked. You remember the day clearly.

The fridge was fully stocked as were the bathrooms, all the amenities needed for a few days stay away from civilization. You walked into the kitchen getting ready to make some food, the drive there was long and you were absolutely starving. “What are ye plannin ta make and can I have some because I am famished.” You turned to find Johnny strolling into the kitchen. “Well I wasn’t offering to make dinner just looking for a snack, but it’d be a shame to have the cabin burn down.” Johnny groans from the table, “It was one time bonnie! Was nae like I was plannin on burnin the place up!” “Johnny you set the place ablaze tryin to make CUP OF SOUP!” “I was tired!”

Price walked in shaking his head as Ghost and Gaz came in behind him chuckling. Simon piped up, “So you makin food or not?” You roll your eyes, “I’ll make a steaming pile of dog shit just for you Ghost.” “Make sure it has garlic and potatoes, yeah?” After dinner was decided on, (not dog shit), everyone settled in for the night with the exception of you and John. “Fancy a walk luv? There are lights on the trails.” You think about it for a minute and nod, “Sure. Seems like a nice night, gotta walk off that meal too.” You both chuckle and walk outside, the night warm so there was no need for jackets.

You both had been walking for about 20 minutes, the scenery beautiful and calming, making small talk as the scent of Price’s cigar smoke wafts around in the night air. The light from the cigars burning tip gave Price’s already attractive features a boost, almost making him look scary in the dark of the woods. “You know, I could use a bit more exercise. Up for a chase?” You look at him confused as he takes a hit from his cigar and blows the smoke upwards, the red embers showing in his eyes.

He leans closer as you take a step back, his eyes gleaming, his teeth seeming sharper. “Run.” That was all you needed as you took off into the trees. You don’t know how long you ran before you finally heard his boots hitting the ground behind you. He was far but not by much, the sound of his boots thudding loudly, almost like he was heavier now. You had briefly stopped behind a large rock but continued when you heard his voice ring through the forest, loud and strange. “Run all you want sweetheart. I can smell you from a mile away.”

You had barely made it to a clearing when you were tackled from behind. You managed to turn over, finding Price but he looked different. Horns protruded from his head, a spiked tail swaying behind him, teeth razor sharp and eyes glowing like the flames of hell. “Caught you darling. Smelled you the second you started running. Getting chased down turn you on?” You blushed, turning your head away. Sure you had always found Price attractive, you knew he wasn’t totally human, and maybe you had some disrespectfully spicy dreams about him, so who could blame you for being turned on.

He nudged your cheek before moving to your neck, inhaling your scent. “My mate.” “What?” “You’re my mate luv. Smelled it the second you walked onto base.” “ O-oh, um I-“ “Do you accept? I may be a monster but I’m not an asshole. I’ve seen your dreams, heard your whispers.” “This isn’t a joke right? Because…I love you, have for a while and if this is some weird or cruel joke just so you can get laid it’s not funny.”

His eyes widened, stunned. “You think so low of me? That I would make a joke of something so serious?” You shake your head no and he sighs in relief. Nuzzling into your neck, he licks and groans as he tastes your flesh mixed with sweat. “Do you accept?” You nod, “Words, dearest.” “I accept.” A rumble forms in his chest as you kiss him and you both begin to undress. You had felt the bulge of him rubbing against your thigh through the talk and it had you needy.

To say he was large was an understatement as you openly stared at the size of him. “It’ll fit fine luv, no worries.” You nodded hesitantly, “Please be gentle.” He kisses you to smooth your nerves as he slowly pushes in, catching all your pretty noises in his mouth. “That’s it darling. You were made to take me.” He was only half way in but you already felt so full of him but he continued to slip inside unhindered. When his hips finally connected with your’s he left out a drawn out moan into the night air and pulled back slowly. “I hope you’re ready sweetheart, because it’s about to be a long night.” Running a hand over the obvious bulge in your skin, you clench and that’s enough to get him started.

The night is spent surrounded by the sound of his hips meeting your’s, breathy moans, the name of your captain loud on your lips and hands firmly gripping his horns for the ride. He didn’t let up until the sun had almost broken the horizon, both of you spent and newly mated.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 1: Hair Pulling - Eddie Munson

Kinktober Day 1: Hair pulling ~ Eddie Munson Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, teasing, begging, anxiety, orgasm denial, outdoor sex, hair pulling, rough sex, fingering, dirty talk, dom!eddie, nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 

It started out innocently enough. You’d spotted him across the canteen with the other members of the Hellfire Club, chatting away animatedly like he usually did when he was excited about the subject matter. After numerous attempts of shouting his name to catch his attention you knew it wouldn’t defer him from the topic, too lost to hear you over the noise of other students around him.

Sighing, you approached from behind him, “excuse me? Earth to Eddie?” reaching towards his wild mane of curly hair, you nonchalantly grabbed a handful and gently tugged back until his head was pulled backwards and he was now staring at you upside down. You didn’t think anything of your actions, smiling your hellos, and kissing his lips quickly before releasing your grip to sit in the only spare seat across from him.

Without a care in the world, you started to unpack your lunch from your bag, asking how the others were doing, not noticing the intense gaze from your boyfriend. It was only as Dustin began to explain something called a potato cannon, did you glance back to Eddie, seeing his brown eyes almost ablaze with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he only sat and watched you.

Smiling at him, you tried to act casual even though his look had you squirming in your seat, “everything ok Eddie?”.

The man still only just watched you, sitting back slowly in his chair, elbow dangling off the back of the chair with one hand, the other wiping the corner of his lips. A move that had you crossing your legs to try and ignore the clenching that your pussy had begun doing for some ungodly reason, it wasn’t like he was purposely trying to turn you on, he was simply sitting in his chair but the predatory eyes had you becoming hot beneath your clothes.

“Cute” he finally spoke lowly before finally turning his attention to the others.

You weren’t sure what to make of his remark, was he calling you cute or something you’d done cute? Either way, you couldn’t help but glance at him every few seconds as you slowly tucked into your sandwich, seeing if you could catch his eye again but he didn’t look at you once.

As the rest of lunch passed by, the school bell finally sounded, and everyone was quick to disperse themselves to their appropriate classes. For a moment, you were worried that Eddie would leave without saying goodbye but, you released a relieved sigh to see him walking around the table to you.

He did as he always did. Kissed your forehead tenderly, pulling you into a hug, allowing your head to rest on his chest before kissing your lips softly and heading off to whatever class he had.

Eddie did the same today however, as he pulled away from the hug, his lips dropped to your ear, whispering, “don’t think I’ll forget that little stunt back there, babe”. You stared with a confused expression, what little stunt? Had you done something wrong? but you couldn’t think of anything that you had done wrong.

As he was walking away, he shouted over his shoulder that he’ll wait by his van like usual to take you back to his, saying it in a way like he hadn’t just whispered that in your ear, like nothing had even happened.

This set the tone for the rest of your afternoon, leg bouncing in anticipation of being reunited with your boyfriend to find out what stunt you had done to offend him. Hardly concentrated on the lesson and instead watched the hands on the clock slowly tick by until finally it hit home time and the final bell rang for the day.

All the other students were rushing to go home, brushing past you to leave but your steps were tentative, hugging your bag to your front to try and find some comfort but it didn’t stop the butterfly sensation in your stomach as you finally locked eyes with Eddie as he leaned against his van, finishing his cigarette.

He smiled and waved at you, the twinkle that usually was in his eyes when he looked at you was back as he opened the passenger door open for you, holding his hand out for you to take, “my lady” he happily uttered. The reaction from you was almost immediate, shoulders dropping, the smile returning to your face as you accepted his hand, climbing into his van and giggling as he kissed your cheek and helped to do your seat beat, “safety first for my princess!”.

During the drive back you played with the rings on his right hand (between changing gears), happily telling him about your day, sitting so your knees were facing him to see his reactions to your stories. His own face mirrored your feelings, a smile spread wide across to show his dimples, thumb softly stroking across the back of your hand idly.

It was only as he parked up and turned off the engine did your nerves begin to return.

Looking at your surroundings, you turned confusedly towards Eddie, instead of seeing his trailer, there were only trees, grass and a lone table, you had no idea where you were.

“Eddie, where are we?” your voice had become quiet, swallowing harshly to fight the nervous hitch in your breath but Eddie only smiled at you like it was all completely normal.

“It’s just a little hideout, nothing to worry about just thought we could sit in nature for a bit before heading back to the trailer”, he was already climbing out of the van before he finished his sentence, walking around the front to then open your door.

Of course, this was what he wanted to do, why would you even think anything else, you trusted him with your life, how could you doubt such a romantic gesture? Undoing your belt, you once again accepted Eddie’s outstretched hand and jumped out of the van, following along behind him as he gently pulled you towards the bench and table.

“Hop on” he instructed, tapping on the top of the table for you to take a seat, which you did, ignoring the coolness of the wood against the back of your naked knees, your skirt had ridden up slightly from the jump. His leather-coated arms were instantly around your waist, pulling you slightly closer as he settled between your legs.

Eddie’s lips smashed into yours causing you to gasp from the slight pain from the intensity but, as soon as your lips moved against his and the quick flick of his tongue against your teeth, you were putty in his hands.

Your mind was spinning, stuck between wanting to deepen the kiss and keep oxygen in your lungs, opting to instead lean in closer, nose rubbing against his cheek with the movements of both of your mouths together, your hands gripping onto his jacket until your knuckles ached.

The long-haired musician pulled back for a second but only to continue his kissing down your throat, tilting your head back with one hand and his hot lips had your toes curling in your shoes. His teeth brushed against the spot between your shoulder and neck only adding to the intensity, especially as he questioned, “you like that baby?”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, legs hooking around his hips to try and pull him closer even though this was impossible.

“Yeah? You like that?” he teased, hands beginning to wander up your thigh, pushing the material up with it, the cool air kissing the skin, leaving you shivering in anticipation. “Did you like it as much as that little stunt earlier huh?”

Your eyes flew open to try and look at him, your head pulling away to try and catch his gaze, the unsettled feeling returning to your stomach remembering his words from earlier. Eddie wasn’t looking at you though, he was looking in between your legs, deciding to tease you even further by lifting two fingers and pressing them against your panty-covered clit, rubbing small tender circles over it.

“Wha-what?” you couldn’t help the stutter, body failing you, wanting to ignore his fingers but as your hips rolled with each circle, mouth dropping open to release heavy breaths, you were conflicted.

“Let me ask you something sweetheart” Eddie continued. “If I picked you up in the canteen, threw you across one of the tables and started to fuck this pretty puffy cunt of yours, do you think that would be appropriate?”

His words weren’t making any sense to you, his tone was so calm and dangerous but his movements had you flushed and horny, needing to feel him more still even though you wanted to stop and talk about what had upset him. Especially as those damn skilful musicians' fingers began to push your underwear to the side to continue to play with your slickening clit.

“I don’t understand-” you tried to reason with him.

“Oh, you understand plenty”, his hand gripped your throat now, making sure you were looking at him which you had been trying to avoid now that he was slowly bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. His gaze wasn’t angry but it was intense enough that you looked down again at the recognisable Hellfire design on his t-shirt.

“Answer my question sweetheart. Do you think it would be appropriate if I were to rip open your shirt and suck on those perky tits of yours?”

“Uh no, i-”

He continued to cut you off, “No, it wouldn’t, so who gave you permission to pull my hair like that earlier”.

It all made sense now, you had done the one thing you weren’t supposed to do, how could you be so stupid? “Sorry I wasn’t thinking Eddie!”

Through the last few months, you and Eddie have explored every area of your relationship that you were able to and one of the main things was finding out what made you both weak at the knees. Eddie was able to discover yours quite quickly, whether it was saying certain words, the way you much preferred to be dominated or the way he knew just the right way to have you edged in a matter of seconds with the use of his tongue.

It took you a while longer to figure out what it was that drove him crazy until one day, as you rode his cock, fingers gripping his hair like your life depended on it, you accidentally tugged on it, causing the loudest moan Eddie had ever produced as his member throbbed, cumming unexpectedly.

So when you had pulled innocently on his hair during lunch, that had started some tormented little game in his mind.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to mess with you I promise- oh my god!” he had moved his two fingers into your now dripping hole, thumb stroking against your sensitive clit, your hips frantically trying to meet his movements. He really knew how to use his damn hands as your eyes rolled back, you were so so close, so intensely concentrating on that tightening in your abdomen that you couldn’t hear his chuckles, not until he had pulled away his hand, leaving you crying out in frustration.

“Fuck. Please Eddie”, reaching forward you tried to grab his hand and pull it back to your pussy but he held it back easily. With the other hand, he lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes once more to see that his intense gaze had softened for a moment, his lips lowering to quickly kiss the tip of your nose. It was his small sign to make sure you were still ok and that he wasn’t being malicious with his actions which you knew anyway, as intense as Eddie was, he would never hurt you so you nodded your head to show him to carry on.

His next few words however had your heart pounding and cunt clenching, “you aren’t cumming until I say you do, understand? I want you begging so loud that the people miles from here can hear you.” A shiver chased through your spine, not being able to think of any words, knowing it was worthless to try and argue with him and also entirely thrilled by the citation and possibility of being caught.

Eddie’s had disappeared from your throat, only so he could shrug off his leather jacket, reaching behind you to lay it across the table before pulling up his black sleeves revealing his tattoo of bats.

“Come here babe” his hands gripped your waist, gently easing you off of the bench onto unsteady legs but that didn’t matter as he was quickly able to manoeuvre you, spinning you on the spot until your back was flush against his chest. He wasn’t done however as he pushed against the top of your back, forcing you to bend over the table.

Your face now lay against his jacket, smelling the scents of cigarettes, weed and something that was purely Eddie that helped to calm the anticipation nerves as he ran his hands over the back of your thighs, again lifting your skirt until your underwear was exposed to him.

His breathing hitched at the sight of the small wet patch in your panties but he was soon moving them down your thighs until they rested around your knees and then some further rustling noises but you didn’t want to risk glancing over your shoulder as you already knew what was coming.

It still didn’t stop you from gasping and jolting as the warm tip of his cock brushed against your sensitive clit, rubbing up and down to smear your juices. It was difficult being flush against the table to try and make more friction on your bundle of nerves but you attempted to put your hips back against him, hoping the movements would help you reach that desperate orgasm.

Eddies chuckle rippled through your body, “I love seeing you this desperate”. He sounded so aroused and that only caused your knees to further weaken but his body kept your propped up, especially as he then thrust into you in one movement causing you to scream out in pleasure of feeling your walls stretch around him.

He didn’t hold back with his thrusts, each one coming hard and fast, the bench creaking underneath the movement but his hands held around the front of your waist, making sure that they were taking the brunt of the damage as he fucked you.

Anyone close by would have been able to hear the sounds of your bodies slapping together, the wet slosh with each thrust could not be hidden, even with the sounds of you moaning in pleasure, particularly with Eddie holding your orgasm at ransome if you were to hold back.

“Eddie that feels so good, oh god” you blurted out, hands gripping tightly onto the jacket below, your cunt aflame with nerves that were being brushed and stroked with his cock. The fresh air around you made you feel vulnerable but then being with Eddie made you feel safe, there was just a lot to overstimulate you but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else as you once again felt the tingling deep in your cunt build.

Eddie felt it too as he stopped fucking you, his cock still flush inside of you, his own eyes rolling back as he could feel your cunt pulsing around him. “Fuck babe you feel so good, but you aren’t cuming just yet.”

You groaned in frustration but stopped as his hand threaded into your hair, tugging on it along with a hand on your shoulder, pulling your upper body up until your back was against his front once more, you were on the tips of your toes now. The hand on your shoulder dropped to wrap around your waist, keeping you in that position and something for you also to hold onto as the grip in your hair didn’t loosen and the dull ache and burn only added to the stimulation, you could understand why he enjoyed the sensation so much.

“That’s it, you take my cock so well sweetheart” he grunted into your ear, lips sucking on the lobe as he began to roll his hip, causing his cock to nudge in and out, pushing harder into your cervix. It felt like an electric shock burst through your cunt and down your thighs, only causing you to moan his name louder and grip harder onto his arm as he continued his slower but more punctual movements.

This position seemed to be working better with Eddie as well as he too was groaning louder, muttering pleasantries into your ear, praising you to indicate that he was going to let you cum soon, this was always what he did in sex. It only meant that when you heard the phrase “good girl”, your cunt would clamp down hard in need.

“Fuck, yeah that’s it cum for me” he suddenly groaned as his thrusts became sloppy and the second you could feel his cum starting to coat your walls you were convulsing, knees giving way so Eddie had to hunch you back over the table so that he didn’t drop you, his own legs weakened by the pleasure pulsing through his member.

It took quite a few moments for you to stop twitching and regulate your breathing pattern, all the while Eddie’s fingers ran through your hair, his mouth kissing along your clothed shoulder. Turning your head to try and look over your shoulder, you caught a glance of his satisfied smirk as he leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“I’ll be back in a second, just getting the supplies” he whispered and with that, pulled his limp cock out, you had to bite your lip from gasping at the sensation and then you felt cold and even more exposed as he moved away from you. Here you were, in the middle of the woods, bent over a table, pussy on display dripping cum but you were so lost in the state of post-orgasmic bliss that you didn’t really care.

Eddie came back after only a moment anyway with the supplies: a box of tissues, and spent his time trying to clean your sensitive pussy before pulling up your underwear and covering you with your skirt once more. Steadily and with his help, you stood to your full height, making sure you were safe to walk before Eddie reached for his jacket, pulling it over your shoulders and grabbing the collar to pull you in for a deep kiss.

His lips pecked against yours before grumbling with a smile, “no more pulling my hair in public, ok?”

You smiled tentatively up at him through half-lidded eyes, “no promises if it always ends like this”.

[emelinstriker]

Red Son ♡ Parental Guidance Pt.2

Demon Bull King be like: "If I had a nickel for everytime I lost my son's diaper, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."

Just like the first part, Reader does exist in here, but the story revolves more around Red Son and your entire family chaos as a whole.

♤ Part 1

ⓘ Reader is FEMALE; (C/N) = Child's Name

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

Finally, after an agonizingly long time of giving birth, the baby was finally in your arms. Red Son was anxiously holding your hand so tightly just half an hour prior, but now he was gently holding onto you and your child with a smile. He gave your temple a kiss while brushing his thumb over your hand, which was securely helping your arm hold up the baby that was previously crying.

"He looks so much like me when I was this small", he commented softly, making you huff in amusement.

"Well, do you wanna hold him?" 

His eyes lit up as his gaze met yours with a smile. That was enough of an answer for you to carefully hand your son over to your husband. You also told him how to hold the baby correctly so it doesn't get hurt or become uncomfortable. It didn't take long for tears to gather in his eyes as he gently held onto your child while his gaze softened at the sleeping potato. "Hello, little flame..."

And finally, all was at peace...

...

...Actually, that would be a lie.

Okay, Red Son did sign up for this when he decided to have a child with you. From the constant waking up in the nights to the multiple diaper changes and random vomit. He knew it would happen, and he was mentally prepared at the thought... But now he was having seconds thoughts on if he was actually prepared. Especially when it turns out his baby could sneeze fire.

Of all the scenarios he had prepared the nursery for, a fire-sneezing baby was not on his list. He did not account for the possibility that the baby could possess fire abilities before it even reached the two-months-mark. Hell, he had a plan for if the child somehow ended up inheriting part of the Samadhi Fire! Good thing he did not. You both were suspecting that your son either didn't have it or he has such a small amount that it wasn't a threat to himself or others.

That did not mean that he wasn't a threat to the furniture. Grandpa DBK once came in to check on the little one, only to watch in horror as the crib was set ablaze in front of his eyes. The baby was absolutely fine and was giggling among the flames like a tiny pyromaniac, don't worry.

That was definitely a child of the Demon Bull Family, no doubt about it.

However, due to the discovery of the baby already being this much of a tiny menace, you reluctantly let your husband rework the nursery to ensure such fire could not expand. And while the room was under maintenance, you were tasked with baby duty for probably the entire day. Honestly, you didn't really mind because your mother-in-law was there to help you out. After all, she and her husband were absolutely smitten by the little flaming menace to society. Princess Iron Fan's experience in the field of motherhood was both a great help and gave a lot of content to talk about for when you're bored.

"You would not believe how destructive Red Son was as a child", she commented as he sipped on her tea. Meanwhile you were rocking the baby in your arms, lulling it further into sleep. Your talk with the little one's grandma was quite boring in his point of view. She giggled into her hand.

"Your own child is pretty tame compared to what he managed to do. Then again, my husband wasn't helping the situation either." She then side-eyed the Demon Bull King, who was awkwardly trying to eat from his plate. Honestly, having his son here right now would've been better... at least then his wife wouldn't try to solely pick on him for embarrassing memories. Unfortunately, Red Son couldn't attend dinner this time due to the nursery incident. So DBK had to survive this on his own.

He swallowed the food he just munched on before huffing, "I personally don't think I was that bad in raising him."

"You set the kitchen on fire-"

"That was one time!"

"But the bottle itself was covered in flames four times. Not to mention the diaper incident that somehow happened twice-"

"I'm telling you, the smell came from every wall! How was I supposed to know he hid them on the ceiling??"

You blinked in confusion, "I- Wait, he managed to hide two used diapers as a baby? On the ceiling?" Princess Iron Fan nodded with an amused hum. Your gaze lowered itself onto your own baby. Guess you had to be prepared for even more chaotic moments like that potentially happening. As if the fires (C/N) accidentally created weren't bad enough.

"Well, was there anything else that happened between the two of them?" You were simply curious.

The Demon Bull King suddenly started to eat a lot quicker, to the point where he was trying to eat everything off the plate at the same time, practically inhaling it all to escape this conversation.

His wife laughed, sending her husband a taunting grin, "Of course! Let me tell you all about it~"

DBK then apparently deemed his attempt to escape not fast enough and simply ate the plate as a whole. He then excused himself from the dinner table and speedwalked off to who knows where with long, heavy steps.

You and his wife stared at his quick exit from the scene. While you were absolutely baffled that he just swallowed the entire plate, his wife couldn't hold in her laughter anymore.

And while Princess Iron Fan was telling you more embarrassing stories about her husband's best fails at being a parent, the Demon Bull King found Red Son in the kitchen. He seemed rather annoyed at something, so his father had to ask, "Is something the matter?"

Startled, his son almost dropped the bottle he was holding. Red Son sighed in relief when he realized it was only his father. "No, no. Everything's fine. I fixed up the nursery and wanted to get a newly filled bottle before telling (Y/N) it's ready. Just...", he responded as he glanced back down at the bottle, "I don't think I'm doing this right."

His father crossed his arms, leaning against the tall doorframe. "Do you perhaps need some help, son?"

The shorter bull demon scratched his head at this awkward situation. "...I wouldn't mind some help, actually. My attempts were a little... embarrassing, to say the least."

"It certainly couldn't have been that bad! It's simply about filling the bottle and heating it up."

"That's the problem, father. You see...", he said rather timidly before opening a cabinet and pulling out two more baby bottles that looked burnt. The Demon Bull King repeatedly blinked in shock, not believing what he was seeing. Red Son on the other hand was blushing in embarrassment, placing the bottles onto the counter before hiding his face in his hands, groaning out his frustration to the world.

"I'm a failure of a father...", his muffled voice commented from behind his hands.

To his surprise, his own father laughed. Red Son gave him an offended look, "Are you laughing at my misery?"

The giant bull wiped away a single tear from his eye before taking a deep breath to calm down a little. "Seems like we're not so different after all!" Now it was his son's turn to be stunned into silence. "I honestly thought you would have less problems than me with this!"

"What-" "Haha! Anyway, heh, let me show you how your mother taught me how to heat it up properly..." The bigger demon then approached the counter with the bottles and filled the clean one that wasn't burnt with milk from the carton. "I'm guessing you were struggling with the heating process, yes?" Red Son awkwardly nodded at his father's observations. "And I'm guessing you tried heating it up with your own fire." Again, his son nodded.

"You're not supposed to heat it up yourself. We have a microwave for a reason", Demon Bull King added with an amused smirk. "Your own flames won't be able to safely keep the bottle intact while increasing the temperature at a consistent rate. Here-" He then placed the bottle in the microwave, closing its door before setting the timer and starting it up. The demon shrugged, "Now you wait. It's as simple as that."

Red Son looked at him dumbfounded before his frustration seemed to take over again. "Why the fuck didn't I think of that?? UGH! I'M SO STUPID! THIS IS SO STUPID!" His hair started to flare up at his rage as he clenched his fists.

"Do you truly believe having a child with your wife is stupid?"

His father's question brought him back down again. Calming him, but also catching him a little off-guard. "W- What? No... No, of course not! I love my child!"

Demon Bull King huffed with a smile, "Well, then you need to learn and adapt to your child's needs to raise him well. It might be annoying keeping up with it all, but it will help his life improve a lot." He followed up on his words by picking up one of the burnt bottles, inspecting it. "Don't forget, you agreed on having a child with (Y/N). And as part of that agreement, your child is your responsibility too." His eyes then glanced at the shorter demon's surprised expression. Red Son did not consider that his father could give him advice just like his mother.

His thoughts were cut off when the microwave suddenly beeped, indicating that the bottle was now heated. He opened the door and to no one's surprise, the bottle was still fully intact and the milk was now warm. And despite the heat it held within, he had no problem grasping the bottle with his bare hand and closing the microwave once more. He then gave his father a very small bow with his head, "Thank you for your help, father."

The Demon Bull King chuckled, lightly patting his son on his head, "You better move along now and tell your wife about the nursery. Pretty sure she wants to drop off the baby back in the crib aga-"

K A B O O M

Both demons froze in shock, startled at the sudden explosion. Thinking they were under attack, they quickly made their way back to their wives in a hurry. Until they heard your distressed, but also oddly calm voice coming from the dining hall.

"Um- I- I didn't know he could do that! I'm so sorry!"

"It's all good, dear- We, uh, can just fix it right back up! Don't worry about it!" Princess Iron Fan responded, sounding quite concerned about the situation.

Both men entered the dining hall and watched as there was now a giant hole in the wall. Its borders as well as part of the debris were engulfed by flames. You and PIF didn't seem harmed, just extremely shocked at what you two just witnessed. Meanwhile little (C/N) was giggling again, with the same giggle from the time he set the crib on fire in front of his grandpa.

"...Are you sure I'm not a failure of a father?" Red Son asked rhetorically, his hands gesturing towards the scene with an expression that could only be read as 'Bruh'. Demon Bully King couldn't help but stare at the giant hole in the wall as a confused Bull Clone walked by on the other side.

Turns out your child could not only sneeze fire, but also create a stronger version of it that acts like a fiery bullet explosion. 'Huh, parenthood turns out be more and more fun with each day', you thought somewhat sarcastically, suddenly becoming more tired by the second as you dropped off your adrenaline. Your husband ended up helping you feed the bottle to the baby since he noticed how much more tired you looked.

In the meantime, Princess Iron Fan told both bull demons about what happened and how you and Red Son should be careful with your child's newfound abilities. The fact that he already possessed such powers within the first month was concerning.

It didn't take long for MK's gang to get permission to visit once your baby was properly settled into your home. The Demon Bull Family was a little bit wary about the gang's visits at first, but they quickly got used to their presence. Mainly because they weren't usually bothering the two of them in the first place. They were rather out to bother you, your husband and your little flame.

You never even met your husband's friends before their visits, so you were glad they all were kind and seemed to be enamored by your child. Red Son made sure to tell them beforehand about the potential fire sneezes that can happen. He also gave them other general warnings of abilities you two picked up on while observing the little one.

But with that being said, the gang had a lot of fun interacting with the kid. And it was quite surprising to see him not freaking out over all the attention he was being given. Well, for the most part... He did cry during their first visit due to MK and Mei's constant screaming. However, after telling them to be quiet around the baby, things seemed to be a lot more at peace with them.

Tang was extremely curious about the child's early powers while Pigsy was seen smiling a lot more around the baby. Sandy usually brought gifts with each visit, especially non-flammable, or at least highly fire resistant toys for the baby.

And Wukong was... on edge. At first, at least.

Of course he congratulated you two and also found the baby adorable. But after you told him about the chaotic incidents the child has caused... He was a bit cautious. Not for his safety, but for your and the gang's safety... Also the universe's, but Red Son and DBK already told him about how your child does not seem to possess the same type of power as the Samadhi Fire. At least that bit of information made the Monkey King loosen up enough to enjoy his stay around the child more.

In general, things were getting a lot more interesting for your family. Especially because Red Son suggested having another child in the future once you got your current child's powers under control.

Because apparently one fire-sneezing baby is not enough.

> Masterlist <

[matchesarelit]

The Complexities Of Blue Raspberry (Chosen x Reader)

You were new to the convention exhibitor game, so maybe you could use a helping hand. or maybe that would be even more perplexing.

WC: 1.8k

Warnings: Mentions of stickiness on skin, tornado potatoes, gawking, NNN allusion apart from that pretty pg still...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

~The 23rd of November~

Shrugging off your backpack you finally began to setup your stall, tiny displays and pinned up prints as well as a freshly printed banner adorned with your artist tag. This was the first convention you were attending as an exhibitor, showing off your creations, and despite years of attending such events your nerves were ablaze at the new context.

Shuffling around the space, tweaking millimeter misplacements that only existed in your own mind, you attempted to whittle away the hours until the doors of the con opened, having arrived as early as the staff would let you in. Sitting on the little stool behind the counter you made conversation with the lady to your left, and when she suggested the two of you cover each others stalls and trade off breaks, you wasted no time in agreeing. After an extended conversation over the ins and outs of working a con, she bid her goodbyes to finish setting up her stall.

Within minutes your focus was pulled away from your phone by a four syllable cough, 'Greetings goodly merchant, I noted your fresh face and believed I would do well to introduce myself as well as inform you of some things.

'So... you must be the new stall owner. I came over to introduce myself as well inform you of some things. first of all, this place is a freaking hellscape, the attendees can be greedy and the heat can get overwhelming.' As he paused you tool the chance to observe the man in front of you, he was built as all get out, with a wolf print shirt caging his biceps and an orange 'staff' lanyard dangling between his defined pecs. His stance was tense, only being highlighted by the tautness of his black jeans, as if he was perpetually ready for some kind of battle, digitized or otherwise; with a black foam katana hanging off of one hip and a 3DS on the other.

Glancing up to meet his eyes as he spoke up, you were met with his blackout wraparound sunglasses and the alluring mystery they caged. 'My role as a dedicated member of the convention staff, a highly elite squadron, is to ensure that everything runs perfectly for the attendees but especially the guests and superstar artists such as yourself.'

He seemed confident yet not cocky at his station and to say he seemed capable would be the understatement of the century.

'That is truly a great honor of a position, I am glad we have someone like you at our defence...' you trail off awaiting his name,

'My earthly name is Spencer Agnew, but my official title across all realms is 'The Chosen'.' he paused as he finished his comprehensive introduction, taking a deep bow in your direction before enquiring after your own name and after attesting to the beauty of it he took his leave, but not without making a point of swiping a business card from your display.

The trance that you were left in after his departure was almost all consuming and if you didn't love your craft as much as you did the first bright eyed con attendee looking around your stall would have blown past you without a thought. Yet, As the day truly began, the hours came and went with ease, slowing only on occasion that you caught a flash of his dark glasses or a curt nod in your direction.

Lunch came all to quickly and as Laura, the stall owner you spoke with earlier, asked you to cover the their table, before returning barely five minutes later stating that she was simply going to eat at her table. She, however, insisted that you take your time, so turning to retrieve your purse you checked around yourself, something you refuse to admit to yourself was a hopeful attempt to catch a glance of The Chosen, before strolling towards the convention centre door, eager to check out the food trucks set up outside.

-Its like I always say the best thing about con season is the Hurricane Potatoes-

So as you waited to the side of the truck for your salty snack, your focus was soon stolen by the figure of The Chosen standing across the courtyard, in line for a Slush Puppee, his own focus set upon the game in his hands. So after thanking the staff member for the stick of patatoey goodness, you moved to greet the man who as you walked over was pocketing his game. Standing next to him in line you fumbled out the best conversational prompt you could think of; 'So... you on your break as well?' He didn't startle at your voice simply turning to give a small yet genuine smile, 'indeed. I am attempting to cool down from the intensity of the heat inside.' You nodded along, even siting still the heat of the venue had taken a toll on you. 'I see you chose the Potato Tornado for your sustenance, Impressive choice. It will surely assist you in the coming hours of battle.' Although you considered the comparison slightly dire, with a shy thank you, you allowed the pair of you to fall into relative silence until, of course, you were handed your cups.

'So what flavor are you planning to get? and what would you recommend?' It was another relatively weak attempt to get the conversation going again but it seemed to work like a charm as he once again had that calmly confident look on his face as he spoke up...

'Well... the cola is of course a reliable choice but it is... inherently pedestrian, myself; I prefer the more intellectually complex Blue Raspberry. The very concept of such a flavor is something most will never be able to comprehend.' Lost in his spiel the brief graze of his fingers against yours as he took your cup and filled it alongside his own with the conceptually intense blue flavor, sent a chill up your arm and derailed any train of thought that could have you protesting. 'That being said I think you might be able to appreciate its beauty.' smiling you took the plastic in two hands, missing the way his shielded eyes met yours as the last word fell from his tongue., as you sipped briefly to acquaint yourself with the taste. 'Let me know what you think of it, perhaps we can discuss it later... over refills.' his tone was less of a question and more of a musing that hang in the air as he all but powerwalked back inside the venue leaving you lingering to the side of the trailer, mindlessly sipping the quickly melting neon blue drink as you watched his form recede.

Soon enough you decided it was time to journey back to your stall, the tornado lost long ago in the war against the blue powered brain freeze the icy beverage tingled and stung the hand that it was clasped in. As you sped through the building, weaving as you went between the crowds you caught sight of Spencer wrangling some rowdy weebs away from each other, the vison of him standing over the rambunctious pair, weapons sheathed away and yet guns on full display, tugged your focus away from looking ahead of yourself and had you colliding, within seconds, with a metal pillar.

Although the collision wasn't a painless endeavor your head and extremities were functional. That is if you don't consider your purple and yellow bruised confidence such a public mishap inflicted. So chin tucked to your chest you resumed walking once more. It was, however, only then, with your eyes cast downwards that you registered, at the sight of darkened wet fabric, the cold sensation across your front.

Pleading with the universe that no-one took much notice you forced yourself to continue on your path. What you were unaware of is that the cruel universe is indifferent to your suffering, and hence that the chosen himself had taken notice of your public stumbling.

So, tending to a weakened ego you tucked yourself behind your table, thanking Laura and avoiding their pitying gaze, you focused on the stock of your stall and refilling what was available. The sticky sensation clung to your skin annoyingly persistently throughout the hours, occasionally pulling your focus from the exchanges and conversations you attempted to make.

There was three hours left of the convention when a familiar shadow loomed over your setup, 'so... I assume you quite enjoyed the blue raspberry complexities' his tone remained as it always was, serious and confident, but a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth gave all the indication you needed as he gestured to your shirt.

Thank fuck you thought at least he didn't see me- 'Although in future you should probably focus more on your surroundings, it is important for any great warrior to be completely aware at all times.'

'Well I-I'm not...' your defence trailed off as he wordlessly tucked his lanyard under his shirt, before tugging the grey cotton over his head- your mind took no time to process the reasoning behind his movements, much too focused on the flexing of his arms and the bare muscles that soon lay bare under the fluorescents, if his pecs were tremendous under his shirt well- Oh fuck, is he speaking?

'take this,' he held out the cloth gingerly, the first hesitant act you had seen from the stoic man in front of you and a genuinely kind offer at that. Despite the chill that ran across the skin the top touched as you took it from him your mouth refused to simply thank him; 'Wait don't you-'

'No, I've attuned my body to achieve peak function in all environments not matter the circumstance.' Not wanting to appear ungrateful, with a smile you hurriedly ducked underneath the table, covered somewhat by the cheap opaque party tablecloth you changed, shrugging the shirt over you head you were surprised by the softness of the fabric.

Returning to your seat you thanked him profusely, an act he waved off without thought. 'What kind of warrior would I be if I didn't?' the question hang in the air, rhetorical both in creation and in the way that you had no clue how to respond to it, until he spoke again; 'So... how is your November going?'

Clearing your through and fighting the heat in your cheeks you finally realized how to convey exactly what you needed to;

'Twenty-three days ...' you paused looking him up and down before stopping at the bulge of his bicep as you finished, 'Strong'.

[reallypleasanttree]

~Mitsuri and Kyojuro bonding moment~Drabble

“Master Rengoku,” Mitsuri said to her mentor who was currently stuffing his food with sweet potato curry and rice. He swallowed and turned his full attention to his former tsugoku. 

“There’s no need to call me ‘Master Rengoku’ anymore. You are the Love Hashira now. We’re the same rank,” the Flame Hashira reminded her and took another bite. 

“It still doesn’t seem real. It’s only been a week and with my first Hashira meeting tomorrow, I’m worried,” Mitsuri looked down at her bowl of food and fiddled with her chopsticks beside it. Normally, she would be matching her mentor’s eating pace, but today her nerves took precedent over her appetite. 

“Everyone else has been a hashira for a long time and I’m a spring chicken. I haven’t even been in the Corps for a year yet. There’s others who would claim I got preferential treatment because you were my mentor or that my reasons for joining the Corps are stupid,” she said. “Sometimes, I think they are too,” she murmured as she folded her hands in her lap and stared down at the table. Rengoku set down his bowl, making a ringing sound from the force. She forced herself to look up. His yellow-red eyes blazed, baring into her soul with flames behind them. 

“That’s not true. You became a hashira through your strength alone. I trained and honed your skills and strength, but they are ultimately yours. Flame breathing is the most passionate breathing style and difficult to learn. The Serpent Hashira tried to learn it, but could not. Not for lack of trying.” Rengoku explained as he took a moment to let her absorb the information.

Mitsuri had yet to meet most of the Hashira. She knew Kocho, Rengoku, and Uzui, but the rest of them were shrouded in darkness. Each one had mastered their breathing style. The last Hashira was inducted before she joined the Corps. It was the Water Hashira. According to Kocho, Tomioka was a man of few words.

“However, you learned it and created your own breathing style,” her former mentor said. “That in itself is admirable. Then through your efforts and ingenuity, you defeated fifty demons. You earned your place to sit amongst the Hashira, Kanroji-san, no matter the reason for joining,” Rengoku praised her. Mitsuri had to blink away the tears threatening to fall. He always knew exactly how to encourage her. 

“Master,” she bit her bottom lip. “Thank you,” Mitsuri picked up her chopsticks. Her doubts remained, but they were lessened by his encouragement. Rengoku studied her. 

“And remember to live with your head held up high and no one will be able to stop you from attaining your dreams,” Rengoku said. “Set-”

“Set your heart ablaze,” Mitsuri finished for him and they shared a smile. His words reminded her to be true to herself and convictions. No matter the reason for joining the Corps, she earned her place among them.

[dotster001]

I saw that it said, Requests are open. May I request Jade and Vil with a reader whose personality is similar to Dia from Court of Darkness?

Summary: gn!reader

A/N: when I say it literally took me four months to finish these....

Similar HC's: Leona/JamilxRio voleri reader

Ace/Deuce/Epel x Toa Qelsum reader-coming soon

You probably only met because you were both foraging for mushrooms and literally bumped into each other. It was love at first sight for Jade. Up to this point he'd never thought he was capable of it…but damn, when he saw you holding his favorite mushroom from this area, he swears a chorus of angels started singing.

Floyd and Azul have never seen a lovesick Jade…and it's a little frightening. He's got a dopey smile on his face every time he sees you, even when (especially when) you tear him to shreds with a single sarcastic comment. He's humming to himself as he works around the lounge, and he's seeking out your attention at all hours, doing or saying anything he can for a glimpse of that beautiful smile of yours. He's almost a little like Floyd…and even Floyd is scared of it.

It doesn't take much work to get you to join the mountain lovers club. He got dirt on Crowley, blackmailed him into making joining a club mandatory, and left a pamphlet where you'd conveniently find it after hearing the news. Obviously you would join his club, because you are clearly soulmates and meant to be together forever! *Dreamy sigh*

You're always suggesting solo hikes, but Jade's nothing if not persistent. He agrees to solo hikes. And you take solo hikes together! Plus, he knows where all the best mushrooms are, and he has access to rare ones that you had never seen before. It's easy to Pavlov you into loving him by giving you cool mushrooms whenever he sees you.

You to your friends: "I can't explain it, but I get so excited when I see him!"

Jade: 😈

Anyway….once you start dating, Jade is ecstatic about how affectionate you are. Like a cat he found on the street, who slowly bonded to him. You'll snuggle up against him, and he'll blush and grin like a fool.

He is literal putty in your hands. You tease him flirtily, and he's ready to give you his soul. You give him a hard time about how he always turns beet red when you kiss him, and he'd sell you Floyd's soul. You take him to a secluded spot for a private picnic, and playfully feed him a mushroom, and he'll kill for you. 

You only know soft lovesick Jade…and are very confused by all your friends saying he's a terrifying tough guy. Talk about an over exaggeration. 🙄

Your existence upsets Vil. You always look lovely and beautiful, despite never putting any effort into it. You always stay in your room, much like Shroud. And when he tries to help you, you snap at him, very like Epel. You're an annoying potato.

But one day he hears a melodic voice luring him deep into the forest, and sees you singing to the stars. He isn't sure if you cast a love spell on him, but he is instantly in love. Naturally, you are annoyed at the interruption, and storm off.

But that doesn't stop Vil! He is begging you to audition for the SDC. And you keep telling him to fuck off. Vil never thought he'd fall for a tsundere, but damn is this back and forth setting his heart ablaze.

You don't audition….but Vil obviously doesn't have much time to pout about that when he's training the crew, and giving you tasks as their team manager. And he has even less time to pout as he's waking up with a hoarse voice after apparently overblotting. But when he gives you a pleading gaze, you sigh and announce that you'll sing for him.

Of course they won with your voice leading the way! Vil never had a doubt! That's why he tried so hard to get you to audition (also because he loves you, but that's a "surprise" for later)

Later comes sooner than he's expecting when, one day, you're doing homework together and you ask him with a wide grin if he's in love with you.

Let's just say, Vil failed to uphold the image of the fairest queen, that day….

Now you're constantly teasing him. You'll hold his hand and, when he tries to pull away, you pout and say you thought he loved you. You'll trace his lips, then boop his nose, and say you thought he wanted your affection. You'll lean in when you work together, and he'll catch a whiff of his favorite perfume of yours, and you'll tease him about how much his face is burning. It's infuriating for two reasons. The first being that you are absolutely right, he craves all the affection you throw his way.

The second is, in all of this, you have yet to even allude to whether or not you reciprocate his feelings!!!!!! He keeps trying to outplay you, and you expertly sidestep it, and it's an infuriating dance that Vil is getting tired of performing.

So one day, when you're being a tease as per usual, you say something like, "Isn't it normal to want to kiss the person you love?" And he just goes for it. He's ecstatic at how surprised you are by the kiss, but he's even more thrilled when you reciprocate.

Now that you're dating, (which you keep alluding to the fact that you are) you still infuriate him. But at least now you let him into your room. And while you aren't always the chattiest to "outsiders", now he gets to hear your lovely voice all the time. Plus, you're much more snuggly, and Vil secretly just wants to be held, so….

[loveandleases]

speaking of Ro's Carrying Mc How would the ro's like to be carried

Alright let's see how our babes want to be carried! Below the cut ~

❤️ Cam - Piggyback! Like MC used to. It's nostalgic for him. Also, just the idea of being able to lean against MC, to hold them like that, how he imagines spooning them would be.

💙 G - Facing MC, legs around their waist arms around their neck. It's such an intimate position, and knowing how close they can be to them, just sets their cold heart ablaze.

💚 Kara - Fireman carry! Listen it just excites her, thinking of being rescued and thrown over someone's shoulder. Saved from utter doom. It's a thrill she won't forget.

💛 M - Under the arm carry. They've seen it in anime, so just once they want to know what that would be like. They realize it would be uncomfortable, but it would also be such an exciting moment to live out.

💜 Isaac - They would love for someone to just let them sit on their shoulders and carry them like that. They remember their mother carrying them that way. So for them, it's not only nostalgic but bitter-sweet. To be able to relieve such a pure moment again, is precious.

🖤 Ardent - He doesn't want to be carried. If he had to choose then carry him in your palm like how King Kong would. Who wouldn't want that!? He would much rather carry Mc, over his shoulder, like a potato sack, in his arms. Doesn't matter.

[sallowsdiary]

Today was one for the history books. I, Sebastian, Slytherin Extraordinaire, managed to outdo myself in a way that even I didn’t see coming. It all started innocently enough—just another day of spreading charm and sophistication around Hogwarts—but it quickly spiraled into what can only be described as utter chaos. And I couldn’t be prouder.

You see, I’ve been toying with a new spell I found in an old, dusty book hidden deep in the Restricted Section. (By the way, breaking into the Restricted Section is far too easy; they should really up the security if they don’t want students like me liberating their secrets.) Anyway, the spell is supposed to summon a small swarm of harmless butterflies—you know, something whimsical and impressive to win over the girls. Or Professor Garlick. Or both.

So, naturally, I decided to give it a try during lunch in the Great Hall. I figured, what better way to brighten up a dreary November day than with a flutter of colorful butterflies? I even had a charming speech prepared for when everyone inevitably started applauding my brilliance.

But, of course, the universe decided it had other plans.

Instead of summoning a quaint little group of butterflies, I somehow managed to conjure a horde of fire-breathing moths. I’m not even sure how that happened—maybe I mispronounced something, or perhaps the book was cursed. I’m leaning toward the latter because there’s no way I could have made a mistake.

Anyway, these fiery moths zoomed around the Great Hall like they were on a mission to set Hogwarts ablaze. Students were screaming, food was flying everywhere, and Professor Weasley looked like she was about to Transfigure me into a ferret. To be honest, the scene was both terrifying and awe-inspiring—I never knew the Great Hall could be so alive.

Of course, everyone was panicking, except for me. I stayed calm, cool, and collected as I tried to get those blasted moths under control. But, as luck would have it, they had other ideas. They started chasing the ghosts, who were delighted by the whole ordeal and began throwing mashed potatoes at everyone in sight. It was pure bedlam.

Eventually, the professors managed to banish the moths, but not before they set fire to at least three Gryffindor robes and the Fig's robes (which, by the way, are surprisingly flammable). The entire hall was a smoky, chaotic mess, and I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of pride. After all, how many students can say they’ve nearly burned down Hogwarts? It takes a special kind of talent.

Headmaster Black was not amused, of course. He gave me his classic death stare and told me I’d be scrubbing cauldrons for a week. But, honestly, I think he was secretly impressed. I mean, who else could turn a simple summoning charm into an impromptu fireworks display?

As for me, I’ve decided that the next time I attempt a grand gesture, I might aim for something a little less combustible. Perhaps I’ll stick to non-flammable creatures, like enchanted frogs or dancing snails.

But deep down, I know this is exactly why Hogwarts needs someone like me. Life here can be so dull without a little excitement—and who better to provide it than yours truly?

—Sebastian

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

May I request Giyuu and his s/o having a meal after finishing a mission together? I love the food as metaphor for love trope.

Of course you may! I actually studied up on how to narrate food as a metaphor for love with the dishes getting more complicated and sweeter to reflect the love for Giyuu and symbolise reader giving her skill and time and effort to Giyuu , and when he gets invited over the food becomes known as something only he and the ones closest to her can can have jskdknfjjd I acc worked hard on this pls I hope you like it lol

Masterlist <3

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

You get up earlier than Giyuu does in the morning, in your own part of the butterfly estate to make you both a meal to start off your day before your mission. You have no clue if he's awake yet, but you're supposed to meet him at the front of the estate in a half hour.

You take the time to make pancakes for the man you fell in love with, taking extra care to make them as perfectly golden-brown as possible. Food has always been your language, so as you told the pancakes and place a couple of fruits into the little pots a delighted smile settles across your face. The breakfast for today is sweet, freshly made with love from the finest ingredients of the estate. As the sky adopts an orange, dusty pink hue and the sun comes out you pack your bag and put on your haori.

Your blush almost matches the pinkish hue of the horizon as you see your blue eyed friend, though he means much more to you than just that.

With a gentle smile, well manicured hands reach out to hand an unsuspecting demon slayer a pot of well made breakfast, and your heart soars at the feeling of providing him with a home made meal. You take special delight when you see usually stoic, apathetic eyes widen with surprise and confusion as he reaches to take the food, setting your stomach ablaze with his quiet thanks.

A young love blossoms between the two of you, entwining your fates together, and every time you provide him with a carefully made meal, each one usually more complicated than the last, he can't help but fall for you and your gentle, giving nature. He likes to show you respect and his own kind of love as he eats each meal no matter how full he is.

At the end of the day, when the mission is long finished and the report has been made and turned in, you insist that Giyuu come to the butterfly estate for you to cook for him, and of course he accepts.

You roast some sweet boar meat and season it generously, peeling some potatoes to make it a more filling meal. You boil the pot and keep an eye on the meat as you speak with Giyuu about the mission, and tell him how cool he looked when he got in the last hit on the demon. Wide, bright eyes sparkle at the memory as you praise him, not noticing when his cheeks tint a little and his lips perk into a small smile.

The two of you eat delicious, perfectly cooked steak in comfortable silence before Giyuu breaks it with a quiet question.

"Do you usually cook like this for people? Where did you learn?"

His curiosity counts as a win in your books, and you gently correct him before telling him about where you learned to cook, as well as what food means to you. Growing up, you'd lived in poverty, and sometimes have to go without food, and if you were given a lunch it was the most treasured gift you could get. Every time you would go on a hunt and find food for the family it was met with a hug and a kiss from each member, and the sight of happy, joyful faces on that of your parents and your younger siblings.

Since then, the delighted feeling of providing something so important and necessary has stuck with you, and gift giving, especially with food has become a natural habit ever since you could get your hands on the ingredients.

You explain all of this, and how the members of the estate have taught you every recipe they know.

"I only cook for you, Giyuu..."

The look on his face tells you that he wasn't expecting that answer, but he appreciated it more, an expression of pleasant surprise and adoration tugging at his brow.

He really is in love with you.

[louvay]

Dear Sir Seal Louvay,

We have detected suspicious underground activities during your stay around the continent, which you conceal by saying you were merely selling potato chips and probably dinosaur oil. We don't know what dinosaur oil means; we don't even know what a dinosaur is. But regrettably we need to detain your time machine before you can return to your world, and in the spirit of cooperation to bury your mishaps, we have some interesting people who offer to get you out of this continent with... ahem, a simple service.

An anonymous letter asks for a co-conspirator who is willing to jump into his ship in... kidnapping. The letter reassures you that he only needs to "get out my sister out of that cursed mansion," and "probably setting a witch ablaze." We cannot, however, guarantee the sender, nor can we verify the fact that he indeed meant to whisk his sister away to safety.

Someone who signs his letter as 'Warlock' asks if you would dare to drive a closed carriage because "we need to take in as many kids as we can." Refusing to elaborate, he will only meet up with you in a very limited, discreet place after you sign a letter saying you are aware of you are getting into, including the risks which follow.

Someone leaves a scrap of what looks like a pink scarf with very small, nearly-unintelligible letter. We made a significant effort to decode it, where it says: "Is your conscience opposing to assassinate an old man?"

Someone glues a dragon scale in their letter with one simple request: "Find me the truth, and answer: Who am I, actually?" it's chilling, innit; but definitely a bounty for the braves.

Another person's letter is interesting. A gold coin. "Find me a place secluded enough to be silent, but good enough as a clearing because I need to know if I can bring down a tree with a whisper of a breath. The time has come." Based on our further explanation, it seems to be a gold coin which people of the clergy used to make supplication to the gods. We cannot understand more than the curious letter explained to us.

A very rough handwriting, as though it's all written in one single pen strike: "Bring me news about the so-called Light Inheritor, and I swear all your enemies will die tonight." We aren't sure whom he means. He makes sure that this is from "the son of a murdered man," however.

We expect to hear from you soon!

Anonymous Jugdral Agent.

Gain the aid of the clergyman. He seems to know far more about this world than the others do as if he’s connected to the atmosphere itself. Thus, I shall tell him of a vast forest untouched by the Verdane civil conflicts and a land which once served as an oasis for a hermetic people.

[megashadowdragon]

Incorrect Chaldea Part 117 - Canteen Camaraderie

www . reddit . com/r/grandorder/comments/15pzk1j/incorrect_chaldea_part_117_canteen_camaraderie/

reddit comments

Meanwhile on the Archer Emiya line…

Arthur: I’ll take two number 9s.

Squirtoria: I’ll take a number nine large with extra cheese and coconut milk.

Bunnytoria: Six number 6s for my knights with extra dip but the kid’s meal for Gareth. A cheese pickle burger for Mordred.

MHX: Nine number 7s with shrimp but also with more noodles.

MHXX: 12 number 7s but with 20 eggs and also extra hot!

Lancer Artoria: Two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda.

Saber Lily: Happy meal~! Happy meal~! Happy meal~!

Artoria: I’ll take one of everything.

Castoria: … Can I just get a burger or is there, “a make-it-your-burger?”

Berserker Castoria: I want the funky set, glazed chocolate donuts, French fries, and a extra, extra, large soda. But a kid’s meal for Oberon.

Archer Emiya: … Smiles I’ll get everything ready.

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User avatar level 2 simon4s1 · 4 hr. ago Lancer Artoria Alter: Just gimme all the f--kin' potato chips you got and nobody gets hurt.

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User avatar level 2 Jumbolaya315 · 5 hr. ago Normal day in chaldea kitchen

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User avatar level 2 Jack_King814 · 4 hr. ago Jalter the queen a cheese pickle burger

That sounds disgusting

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User avatar level 3 jstoru216 · 2 hr. ago

.Set Your Heart Ablaze It's for Mordred, that's probably the point

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User avatar level 4 ChokeMeLuong · 1 hr. ago And she loves it bc chichiue gave it

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User avatar level 2 WatanabeYunosuke · 7 min. ago as the Saber faces get their order, on the other side is Aesc… Judging them for eating greasy food

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User avatar level 1 LonesomeBookworm OP · 6 hr. ago Fate/SUS Order No Salter that’s the wrong housewife, try again

Source: Spongebob

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User avatar level 2 Jumbolaya315 · 5 hr. ago That one isnt even a housewife to begin with, he cant feel nor taste

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User avatar level 1 CrimsonCarnage74 · 6 hr. ago Jalter: I got it already Emiya! Gasp Artoria

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User avatar level 1 Snowvalley28 · 5 hr. ago The guy who can't taste anything works as a cheff?

Brilliant. Absolutely no possible problems there.

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User avatar level 2 Tschmelz · 5 hr. ago I mean, Beni can't taste either, and she's the best chef in Chaldea. That being said, Emiya Alter also doesn't care about cooking, so he's probably not any good at it anymore.

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User avatar level 2 WooooshMe2825 · 4 hr. ago He probably just does it out of old muscle memory.

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User avatar level 2 KN041203 · 5 hr. ago Last I check fast food joint don't really need taste bud.

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User avatar level 1 Ok-Address-9359 · 6 hr. ago

:Gorgon: Praise be to Snek -Homing Excalibur Morgan Detected-

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User avatar level 1 Chazman_89 · 3 hr. ago :medjed: medjed of saberfaces That's a pretty standard Salter order. To translate it into English, she is asking for six all beef patties with everything on toasted buns, four times over, cooked in mustard, pickles and grilled onions, with extra toast, jelly on said toast, toast lightly buttered, burgers done well, extra onions, extra sauce and a glass of orange juice on the side.

In other words, 24 all beef patties cooked well with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions, dressing, served on 16 slices of buttered and jellied toast, with OJ on the side.

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User avatar level 2 LonesomeBookworm OP · 14 min. ago Fate/SUS Order …Jesus. That's more Salter like than I initially thought

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User avatar level 1 WooooshMe2825 · 4 hr. ago EMIYA: “I got it already, other me.”

[nameless-brand]

✔ regarding fire

Send ✔ for my muse to give yours a terrible lifehack or life protip

Potato chips can be used as a cheap and very potent fire accelerant. This is due to their high fat and caloric content.

Empty out a couple of bags onto the back of the car and light it up. Those car seats will be set ablaze after a minute or two.

The additional benefit here is that carrying around large bags of chips doesn't raise as much suspicion as y'know carrying around a can of petrol. And the evidence naturally destroys itself.

Also on the subject of destroying evidence using a car fire, remember to keep the windows rolled down. Fires need oxygen after all.

[teneguine]

[ ROAST + BLUE LIONS SOUP + GOLDEN DEER SOUP + BLACK EAGLES SOUP ] food over the fires, from meats to marshmallows. each house has their own representative bonfire, and each fire has a large pot with their representative soup. add something to it or try out what your classmates have been cooking.

chosen one has sight of his chosen second near a small pot, where her hands move swift with diligence. upon hearing his greeting, ophelia gives him a smile and gestures, urgently, over to the stall counter she stands before.

" chosen father, i require your wisdom for my creation. " and with delight ever so present in her gaze, ophelia beckons odin's attention with a flick of her hand, towards the small pot. " restraining these dishes to single titles seems little-minded, especially when the power of manipulation lies within our hands. so, i present thee: a soup of all three houses! "

then, she gasps, startled and distressed, " oh no, no, this has not a styled name yet! what could work...? esteemed soup of dark sunset! no, those colors do not equal a sunset... "

//via midsommar pt. 1; still accepting!

"To think, that my child is naming their food... I have taught you well!"

Excitement and elation paint over the features of heralded Odin Dark. He is gladdened by what Ophelia's words mean to him--that they understand the merit of bestowing everything with a soul. He grins at his child, arms folding over his chest to express that he is impressed by their creativity.

"I know you think it best to name this exquisite dish before trying it, Crimson Ophelia, but the engine of inspiration is sparked by frosting on your palette. The flavor must shake the words from your very soul! So let us stall no longer. We shall sample your soup together, and allow our bellies to belch its name!"

Gross analogies aside, he takes up his spoon--the trusty one named Scald-Scooper--and sizes up the Dusk pot. All sorts of things are bubbling and swirling around in there. He can see potatoes and fish, and beans and sausage, and some things he can't even identify! The vastness of ingredients is triple that of everyone else's pot, so to make his judgement fair, Dark gives his child's meal a good mix. Once he feels the ingredients are blended well enough on his utensil, he removes it, and sticks it into his mouth.

It is hearty, it is warm, and it is spicy. Delicate cream meets the thickness of stew, and the result is set ablaze by foreign spice. To Odin, it is a luxury--a far cry from his days of eating bugs in the Future Past. Once again he is gladdened by the accomplishments of Ophelia, and as he swallows, he can feel inspiration rising to the surface.

"A thoughtful balance of flavor explodes on my tongue... Like a stream of lava meeting the vast ocean, this dish is the joyous reunion of fated warriors... Secret combinations are unlocked when the ingredients fuse together in your mouth--they are a hidden door in a dark dungeon... Prepare yourself! It's... COMING... TOOOO... MEEEEE..."

One fist slams down against the stall, the other pumping high into the air. "Behold! The Palace of Unending Wonder!"