#these warnings are mostly for celestial void

[amphiptere-art]

I guess I saw a catalog the basic storyline so people can decide if they want to look into celestial idiots or celestial void. This is a very basic understanding of what the story is, I might have some information wrong.

Celestial idiots.

Other than the shenanigans. Of which there is quite a bit of them. There is a story. Although I am still struggling to figure it out. So this is the story as I understand it.

Characters do shenanigans because they want to.

Pewpaw is the oldest. He also is sort of spring-trap but not. Sun and Moon are supposedly the eldest DCAs. Eclipse is sort of older. I'll explain that later. But he's technically considered the youngest. The youngest youngest is the character of color.

Early prelude information is that sun and moon found eclipse in the parts and service tunnels. They basically repaired him up and gave him a new personality chip sort of.

While they are finding eclipse Moon touches some metal. Experiencing a small blackout as far as I understand.

Moon starts to act off. Moon starts to either not talk or bring his companions to awful awful places. Usually haunted or scary places.

Sun gets irritated about moon bringing them to places that are terrifying. So he confronts them.

Moon had no idea. Apparently he has been mentally offline for an entire week.

Sun learns that apparently there's some other person in moon's head. Color apparently already knew about this.

By the way color and sun have a frenemy relationship. Color doesn't like the fact that he is indeed a doll, and hates Sun because he will throw him in the dryer and do other things because he is a doll.

Sun starts having an existential crisis about not knowing everything, And also having to fix everything.

Eventually moon blacks out again and we finally learned the character that is inside of his head is lunar.

Eclipse starts to freak out because apparently he's terrified of lunar for reasons the others can't quite comprehend other than lunar is a jackass right now.

Lunar bodiesnatches moon, and forces the others to play with him. Drowning Moon in what I can only assume is painful nightmares.

Sun eventually makes a deal with lunar to give him his own body.

Color also has a preference for lunar and lunar for them. He is very defensive of them.

We learn that the reason why color and lunar have a good-ish relationship. It's because apparently lunar was an old animatronic that worked alongside eclipse.

Lunar was colors favorite child. Which surprise. If you didn't figure it out now. Color is a soul of a child stuck in a doll.

Anyways. We learn that apparently Lunar was an animatronic that went crazy one day. Killed Eclipse. Killed most of the children in the daycare. Including color. And was dismantled because he was too dangerous. I think.

Also this gets back to the fact that eclipse is sort of older but not older. There are two eclipses. The one that got dismantled and is terrified and shy. And the one that Sun and Moon kind of made that is also terrified but more rambunctious and chaotic. Old eclipse is the elder, new Eclipse is the younger. The others do not know of old eclipse.

Anyways Sun is trying to build lunar a body. All the while lunar is sort of body snatching/letting moon out sometimes as his part of the deal.

Color is trying to comfort the two while also still being more happy to see Lunar. I do not understand her position.

Sun tries to get pewpaw to help him with the data transfer in bodybuilding stuff. He refuses at first because he understands the risk of robotics.

But eventually after another couple days of watching Sun and Moon be an absolute pain and terror. Pewpaw agrees.

I haven't watched past that. I do understand that there is now a daycare attendant helper. Who is now dealing with all the shit that Sun and Moon have been dealing with. But I don't know much more.

Celestial void. Early warning for many many mentions of child death.

Celestial void is a more... Hidden horror type of story. Sure it's a bunch of idiots doing random shit. But holy crap the story behind it all is creepy and terrifying.

Other than the general shenanigans of randomly going to places or playing games.

Basically the entire group is sort of tied to only stay in the Plex. Why they were made to stay in the Plex is unclear to them but has become more and more clear to us.

Bloodmoon is also a cousin I believe. And he is temporarily moved over to help with something.

Vanessa is the one that basically abuses them and doesn't like them leaving.

Vanessa created a character called Black hole to basically watch and stalk them. Bringing them back home from their shenanigans.

Black hole comes off as really terrifying at first but you slowly learn that he's just about as stuck as anyone else. And he gets about his abused as anyone else and even more so.

Sooner or later they start seeing ghosts. Lunar is a ghost fanatic. He also goes to college. He's only allowed to because it's on fazco's terms.

Anyways they all start seeing ghosts. And us as the community start to figure out where these ghosts are.

Black hole starts to malfunction and open up. He also apparently breaks down enough to realize what the hell is in his body and how he is sentient.

This is also supposedly when eclipse and black holes start dating. And this romance continues for the entirety of the show.

Warning for a child death. All these wonderful robots have fucking children's bodies inside of them. Lunars is the youngest, while Eclipse is the oldest I believe. The only one that doesn't have a children's body inside of them is black hole. Who was an adult when he died, and his heart is still beating inside of fucking black hole.

Although I will mention the children in the animatronics don't seem to share anything with each other. A lot of them speak as if they are simply body sharing. The only one that might share correlation is black hole with the adult heart inside of him. Although I am still uncertain if black hole is his own character for some weird amalgamation of the adult ghost and the character black hole

Lunar who is the ghost hunter is completely confused why they have ghosts following them. Although all of them slowly start to figure out that they all have ghosts inside of them. Particularly the ghost bodies.

Because black hole is gaining more agency. Vanessa decides to fucking mess with the other's heads and make them attack black hole. The only other one excluded is Blood Moon himself. Of which Vanessa couldn't do anything to him because she doesn't know how to.

They all run off into the woods and black hole sort of dies while the rest of them are caught and tormented for being found outside of the pizza plex. This apparently goes on for days.

That is the end of season 1. I'm not going to share anything of season 2 because it's still coming out. But I will talk about the swap universe!

Swap universe is the same sort of plot but the characters positions are different. Basically same characters, different job. Example is black hole being a normal daycare attendant while eclipse swaps with black hole and becomes the guard guy.

Their story is sort and terrible. You get introduced to dusk/dawn early in this one. Who is the child of black hole and eclipse. But they somehow all learn about the existential crisis of simply being a universe created for testing. Warning for child death. And black hole kills everyone even his own child. In some twisted way of releasing them of the abuse and pain.

Anyways if any of this interests you guys. There's your basic explanation of the lore. I am leaving out quite a bit of the shenanigans. Mostly because there is a lot of them and many of these lore bits are sprinkled in slowly with every single shenanigan video. They have a pretty good playlist that contains all the videos that are important to know of or have Lore them. I would watch that. Unfortunately the swap playlist is not as well done. So you will have to seek those out.

[cherryrainn]

I'LL NEVER LEAVE .

; pairing ; adam x reader

; note ; request i got on wattpad!

; warnings ; manipulation, emotional abuse, gaslighting, deceit, loss of loved ones

adam wouldn't stop asking you to go on a date with him.

he had been asking you incessantly, his golden eyes pleading with you to give him a chance, but something deep within you hesitated.

you knew adam's reputation – his arrogance, his ego. and while there was a part of you that was intrigued by him, another part of you just didn't wanna deal with all of that.

"come on, babe, just one date. that's it!" adam pleaded, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.

you sighed, trying to keep your composure as you declined once again. "i'm not interested."

his golden eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and frustration crossing his face. "not interested? but i'm the first fuckin' man, the perfect one! you won't find anyone better!"

you shook your head, dismissing his claims. "it's not about that, adam. i just need some space."

but adam, fueled by his arrogance, persisted. "space? space? you're in heaven bitch!; you're like surrounded by it! just give me a chance."

every time he asked, you found yourself declining, citing one excuse after another. you couldn't bring yourself to say yes, couldn't bring yourself to take that leap of faith.

defeated by your consistent refusals, adam's expression shifted from desperation to anger. "fine, whatever, whore. if you don't want the perfect date with the perfect dick, your loss," he spat, his words dripping with arrogance.

then he walked off, saying a bunch of stuff like "i don't even fuckin' care" even though he clearly did.

after that, days passed, and the people you loved were starting to vanish. it started small, a friend here, a friend there.

at first you just shrugged it off, thinking they were busy or something.

but soon, it became a mass disappearance. everyone you loved was gone. and strangely, adam was nowhere to be found.

alone and desperate, you wandered the empty halls of heaven, the once celestial glow now replaced by an unsettling void. everyone was still there yes, well. mostly everyone. the people you loved and cherished were still gone. and that made it feel empty.

desperation gnawed at your spirit, driving you to seek solace in the one place you never thought you'd turn to – adam.

he had disappeared along with the others, his absence leaving a void that echoed with unanswered questions. but in your desperation, you sought him out, clinging to the faint hope that he held the answers you so desperately sought.

you found yourself standing outside a familiar door – adam's. hesitant, you knocked, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.

the door creaked open, revealing adam's masked face. there was a calculated innocence in his eyes as he feigned surprise. "well, if it isn't my favorite bi-.. angel! what brings you here?"

your desperation spilled out in a torrent of words. "everyone's gone, adam. i can't take it anymore. i need someone, and you're the only one left."

adam's mask of indifference faltered for a moment, replaced by a calculating gaze. "well... shit! come in," he replied with a mocking smirk, inviting you into his space.

you poured out your frustrations, ranting about the loneliness that had consumed you. "i thought i could handle it, but it's too much. i need someone, adam. i need you. you're the only one that i'm actually acquainted with that's still here." you cried, tears practically waterfalling.

his golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he let you vent, the mastermind behind the disappearance of everyone you held dear.

with a gentle sigh, adam allowed you to hug him, relishing in the success of his twisted plan. he held you close, his presence a balm to your wounded soul. "you'll never be alone again, y/n," he whispered, his words a promise wrapped in deceit. "i'll never leave you like those dumbasses did. i'll always be here for you."

and as you buried your face in his chest, you couldn't help but believe him, the echoes of his manipulative words drowning out the whispers of doubt that lingered in the recesses of your mind.

in that moment, you were his – bound to him by the chains of manipulation. and as adam held you in his arms, you knew that you were lost, a pawn in his twisted game of love and betrayal. but, you couldn't bring yourself to care

he would never admit to his sins. he would never confess to the darkness that lurked within his soul, for in your eyes, he was the perfect angel, the first man, and he would never hurt you like everyone else did.

[sketch-guardian]

IMAGINE THE ANGEL STUDENTS WITH A MONSTERFUCKER MC (I don’t know if that’s the right word, this isn’t meant to be nsfw! But I’m talking about people who really like non humans and think they’re adorable and love everyone no matter their species! So sorry if that’s the wrong word, I don’t really interact with a lot of fanfics out of platonic child reader ones!!) AND LIKE MC WANTS TO GIVE THEM A LITTLE KISS WHILE THEYRE IN THEIR BIBLICALLY ACCURATE FORM, ESPECIALLY IF ANY OF THEM ARE INSECURE ABOUT IT, LIKE LITTLE REASSURANCE KISSES WHILE MC SAYS THEYRE BEAUTIFUL EVEN WITH THEIR SCARY APPEARANCE (SO SORRY IF THIS REQUEST MAKES YOU UNCOMFY, I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT.)

Don't worry, I understood what you meant☺so for this occasion, to make it clear that these headcanons are SFW, we'll use the term "monsterlover"✨(I like monsters, demons, angels, aliens and robots as well, so perhaps I can consider myself a monsterlover🤣). Also aw, it sounds like such a tender scenario💜I'll try to do my best with the headcanons💖(I should draw the New exchange students' true celestial forms sooner or later🤔but it's hard to find some free time to both draw and answer asks😖perhaps I should close the askbox for a few days in order to start the sketches, would that be okay?🙈):

"NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A MONSTERLOVER MC DOTING ON THEM IN THEIR TRUE CELESTIAL FORM"

REMIEL

Remiel's true celestial form, as the Archangel of Hope, is quite intimidating to behold, in all its fearsome glory, it's quite majestic, standing around four meters tall, with her face completely obscured by a hood, a void filled with eyes, no mouth, with tufts of hair coming out from the shadows. Remiel, in that celestial form, wouldn't have legs, only torso and arms, instead of the lower limbs, black smoke would be visible from the bottom of her black robe. Remiel's torso would be open, resembling an exposed ribcage, with a bright silver spark inside, shimmering as if to represent hope amidst darkness. Remiel would have eight wings and hands with pointed talons, her weapon would also be a long scythe with a blade at both ends of the staff. Remiel wouldn't be able to speak in her Archangel form, she would only make otherworldly noises. The angel of death would be hesitant to show her true celestial form to MC, after all she would only use it for matters of life and death, she would know that for the human mind, her sight could be overwhelming to manage, however with some kind encouragement from MC, Remiel would change into her true celestial form, towering over MC, terrifying as ever, however her baby blue eyes would be innocent as always, showing she's still in there. Remiel would have to hold MC in her hands for them to reach her and, not being able to kiss, MC would stroke her wings or hair, to reassure her they aren't afraid, while Remiel would respond with a soft guttural noise, sounding almost like a whale, it would be her attempt to communicate her relief and fondness

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel in his true celestial form as the embodiment of Patience, becomes about two meters tall, with still six wings on his back and six arms floating, very thin pointed legs, arrows of blue light floating around him, slightly longer hair and a large mask covering half of Nathaniel's upper face, mostly hiding his several eyes. Nathaniel's weapon in that form is a bow and his form would be graceful, yet he would be able to land deadly punches with his six arms. Nathaniel would prefer not to show himself in his true celestial form, because usually he only transforms when he snaps, which is rare, it would be a bit difficult for Nathaniel to show his true self at will, however with a little insistence, he would sigh and warn MC not to be afraid, because while he might turn into a creature they might do not expect, it would still be him. Nathaniel, in his true celestial form, would cautiously lean closer to MC and nuzzle them, returning their caresses with his several arms, a little surprised by their lack of fear, but also relieved to be accepted for who he really is. Nathaniel's voice in his true celestial form would be more boomy and whispery

URIEL

Uriel's true celestial form as the embodiment of Justice would be rather powerful, buff and bulky, about three and a half meters tall, with jaws similar to those of a lion and half of her face covered by a helmet, obscuring her eyes, she would also have four muscular arms and four rather large thick wings. Uriel's armor would be even sturdier, her sword too and her hair would be longer and thicker, almost as a bright mane. Uriel isn't ashamed of her true celestial form, however she would suspect it could overwhelm MC and therefore she would ask MC if they're truly sure they want to come face to face with such a majestic being, there is a reason why angels say not to be afraid when they show themselves after all. After some convincing, Uriel would transform into her true celestial form and hesitantly lean towards MC, allowing herself to be examined by their hands, she would greatly appreciate their kisses and praises, basking in their affection and trying to cradle MC with caution, as if they were made of glass. Uriel needed to be careful in order to control her strength in her celestial form. The demonstration should happen, as in others' cases, in a fairly open environment, because Uriel's weight and size would risk accidentally breaking something

[pochipop]

＃KAZE TO KI NO UTA !! ♡ — I STEEP YOUR HEART IN MY CHAMOMILE TEA (SERGE X GILBERT).

#. synopsis! — serge will love gilbert until the day he dies .

#. characters! — serge x gilbert .

#. warnings! — angst, explicit mentions of death and canon-typical dark content .

#. word count! — 1.4k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — please accept my humble kazeki spotify playlist <3

It was never that Gilbert didn’t love Serge as much as Serge loved him. No, it wasn’t a matter of choice, or want, or desire, —it was a matter of possibility. By the time they met, it was much too late, although Serge never wanted to believe it. He was a smart young lad, but a child is always a child. And Gilbert was a child too, even if he didn’t seem it at times. They were doomed from the start; by the heavens, by God, by earthly forces and celestial ones alike. They were doomed by every season, by every whisper of wind, by every hand that had ever touched Gilbert’s aching frame, stealing more of him away.

When he met Serge, there was nothing left to give, no matter how badly he’d wanted to. He was a void, some cosmic hole of nothingness that sucked things in and never spat them out. He was broken, and tattered, and torn at every edge, —and he did love Serge for whatever that was worth, but in the end, it wasn’t much. Gilbert was living on Serge’s borrowed time, feeding off his warmth, pulling him under. . .

The sun sets upon another day, one that Gilbert never saw, and Serge sits alone in his room, dressed in clothes that don’t feel like his own. Because they aren’t. He’s always been more tall than he’s ever been proud, and this ruffled collar and gold-buttoned vest may have looked dashing on his father, but they swallow Serge up just like Gilbert used to; trading one prison for another.

At least when it was Gilbert’s doing, Serge felt more like himself.

But here he sits in this stuffy manor, brown eyes flickering across the ornate paintings hung about the room. They’re all trimmed in subtle bronze, carved into filligrous vines, and it’s all so melodramatic that it’s giving him a headache just staring at them. The art itself is expertly done, —mostly flowers and cabins stuffed somewhere off in the woods. For a moment, Serge thinks to himself that he should have run somewhere like that with Gilbert, somewhere they could have hidden themselves away from the world for as long as it took him to get well. Forever, maybe, if that’s what he needed. 

It’s a pipedream now though. Gilbert is gone; has been gone for years, and yet Serge still finds himself thinking of him as if he were soon to walk through the door at any moment’s notice. He can’t eat chestnuts without tasting Gilbert’s burnt flesh on their surface, can’t sleep in any bed without the ghost of Gilbert’s arms encircling him, —and sometimes they’re softer than others, but they never change their size. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, Serge can still smell Gilbert on his sheets; one’s that he never even laid on. He hears his voice when he plays piano, humming along to the melodies he plays, —he feels him when the wind rustles, when the sun shines, and when rain takes over the skies.

If there’s one thing Serge knows for certain, it’s that Gilbert will live inside him for as long as it takes to make things right. He’ll apologize a million times for mistakes he never had the chance to make, and he’ll pour an extra cup of chamomile tea, even though Gilbert probably wouldn’t have liked it anyway.

He’ll sit and think far too often about how Gilbert would have grown in tandem with him, —getting taller, and warmer, and kinder, like Serge was melting ice in his palms. He’ll visit his grave and tell him about his days, even if he’s never really felt Gilbert there where his name is carved into marble and brownstone. He’s the only one who ever visits these days, and it would be a shame to let his resting place become some overgrown mound of weeds. Maybe Gilbert wouldn’t mind, but Serge does.

He’ll try not to cry as much as the days go by. Time hasn’t healed his wounds the way he thought it would, —but he’s not doing himself any favors with the way he digs his fingers around in them every morning, desperate to keep them festering like some metaphorical maw of devotion. It’s what Gilbert always did, picking at his cuts and his bruises to keep them around.

Serge will bleed on every inch of Lacombrade Academy, then on every stone on the streets of Paris, just as Gilbert would have wanted.

He’ll carry this guilt like a cross on his shoulders, —unadulterated and proud, each step heavy with the weight of remorse. Serge will lug this love like a burden and a gift from some forsaken savior, a constant companion, shaping to the contours of his soul, merging down to the muscle. This is where he feels closest to the writhing boy he lost to the rain and the mud and the horrors of his mind. This is where he feels Gilbert so strongly; in the sinews of his being, rotting on the inside but sickeningly sugar-coated.

He puts an extra cube of sugar in Gilbert’s tea and watches it dissolve, then takes a sip of his own.

It’s mild, —floral, and maybe it would be soothing if Serge allowed for it to be. He won’t, of course.

Shadows dance off the walls in the late evening light. The air is thick with melancholy, the kind that permeates the tea in Serge’s delicate porcelain cup. He almost smiles when a whisper of wind from the open window makes the curtains quiver and snuffs out the candlelight on the clothed table. Gilbert never did like romantic gestures. He preferred something raw and much less tangible, clawing at Serge until he came apart, just so he’d put him back together.

And he always did. . . Until he couldn’t. Serge always knew how to fix Gilbert; how to pull him in and soothe the ache, until the echoes got louder, until Gilbert got high enough to block them out, even when it came at the cost of blocking Serge out with them. At least he was delirious at the end. It’s a somber sort of comfort knowing Gilbert wasn’t in the right mind when it all came crashing down, —but more than that, it’s a reminder to Serge that it’s his solemn duty to keep those memories alive until he’s food for the worms to eat.

There wasn’t enough love in the world to save Gilbert from himself, and Serge has yet to reconcile with the bitter truth that he knew that all along. He’d known it from the moment they met in that claustrophobic dorm room when Gilbert came crashing in, teetering on the edge. It was only a matter of time before his sadness caught up to him. He was running from ghosts and the whispers of his mind, from the attention he craved and begged for, and found in the arms of whatever upperclassman or old, nasty man he could sink his teeth into for a night.

And Serge couldn’t kiss that away.

He couldn’t ever hold Gilbert tight enough, so he settled. He settled for the tanned hands brushing golden strands from his face, caressing him gently even when he begged to be hurt. He settled for whispered words against his neck instead of canines on his flesh, for big, brown, innocent eyes that were just so disgustingly kind. Gilbert settled for love when he wanted to be hurt.

Worst of all, he liked it.

He liked how Serge held his cheeks and kissed his tears away and how he always kept the promises he made.

Now, Serge sifts through memories of pale skin and lean muscle, —emerald eyes that never really had a spark. But heaven knows they were so, so pretty when Gilbert wanted them to be. His heart wanes like the humble moon, the ache of loss still ever-present, no matter where he goes. He lives with a chill that follows him wherever he ventures, undeterred by the warmth of his tender memories or the cup of quickly cooling tea in his palms.

Gilbert’s love was never perfect, and it never came without great costs, but Serge would have traveled to every end of the Earth to keep it. He’d have paid every price imaginable just to pull him from the depths and breathe new life into his fragile lungs.

But it’s too late now. . . So Serge sits alone at this table, holding a cup of chamomile tea the way he once held both their hopes and sorrows. He clings to what he has left, —the reminders of what he lost and what he gained. 

The last sip lingers like Gilbert’s lips always did on his collarbones, and Serge settles the empty cup back onto its saucer.

[keikokasugawitch-blog]

We are links in a never ending chain

For the KitsuMay Bingo 2025 Event hosted by @kirayukimuraappreciation

Prompt used: Kitsune Lore

Word Count: 734 | Rating: General Audiences | Tags: Noshiko and Kira bonding, learning one's own hystory, the lore thickens (and I finally cristalize what I've been playing around with), the difference between what is legend and what is history.

Warning: Not Beta read

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡

“I don’t get it, why are you a Celestial kitsune but I’m a Thunder kitsune, mom?” Kira Yukimura asked her mother about a week after she learned she was a kitsune.

“The simple answer is that the type of kitsune that we are is not dependent on our parents’ genes, it is dependent on our personality and our core essence.” Noshiko Yukimura explained, with the kitsune grimoire open in her lap.

“Think about your friend Lydia, according to what you’ve told me, she was bitten by an Alpha, yet she did not turn into a werewolf, but her latent banshee abilities manifested shortly after. Kitsune types work similarly, which is why any kitsune can become a Kukan, Void of itself, festering in dark energy and requiring chaos and strife to remain strong.

“Kitsune also are not born naturally good or evil; we decide to tread the path of benevolence or malice as we see fit, after all good or bad are human concepts and that does not affect us as much as the active harm that we bring upon the world that we choose to interact with. In the humans own limited view of us, we are either zenko, which is good kitsune; or yako, more easily translated as wild foxes,” Noshiko’s gaze shifted to the book once again. “And you may have noticed that we even borrow a word to dub those dark kitsune that decide to bring upon chaos for its own sake.”

Kira’s eyes widened: “Nogitsune.”

Kira fidgets a bit with the kunai her father had made for her. Temporarily he had said whatever that meant. Her mother said it with a solemn expression and a soft voice, as if reminiscing a painful memory from her past.

“The Nogitsu- the Void kitsune that we dealt with was able to possess people,” Kira reminisced, “is it something that all kitsune are able to do?”

Noshiko stared at her daughter for a moment.

“Do you plan on doing something similar in the future, Kira?”

The teenager let out a nervous laugh, not really having thought about it that way.

“I was actually wondering if you ever did it, you told me you didn’t used to look human,” Kira let a crooked smile show, feeling awkward now for asking that.

Noshiko, instead, simply hummed, now actually thinking of an answer.

“The kitsune that can possess is known as a ninko, typically it is mostly known for Void kitsunes to be able to do possessions, but it is also known among us that the Celestial kitsune, the Tengoku, can also possess others,” explained her mother. “Still, most kitsune that can possess others are also unlikely to be able to transform into humanlike creatures, they cannot wear the disguise itself, so they wear other people’s skin. This skin is my own.”

Shame prickles just bellow the skin of the back of Kira’s neck. She didn’t mean to imply that her mother had stollen the body that sat across from her, yet she had to believe that the Nogitsune was not the only type of kitsune that could possess people. That would probably be too much for her.

“You could, probably, still train to dominate your kitsune spirit in such a way that could detach from your body, temporarily. From what I heard, it is a technic similar to astral projections,” Noshiko continued the thought after some deliberation.

“Is that something you can do?” Kira asked, shifting in her bed.

Noshiko smiled and simply nodded.

“And the heavenly temples you talked about?” Kira dug a bit more.

This time, Noshiko let out a small laugh, and yet still powerful and captivating in its vibrato.

“They are called heavenly temples because we kitsune are considered a type of god,” explained the older kitsune; “kitsune themselves call them personal temples, there is known to be a general physical manifestation of them, invisible to most beings, but each kitsune has a connection to the temples, it is what grant is the essence that resides within our spirits.”

At that, Kira’s hands coursed with static, and when she looked up at her mother again, she could see tiny speckles of purple coursing between Noshiko’s fingers.

“We are all connected, in one way or another, that’s a truth that cannot be undone, and I’m glad I’m still here to guide you.”

And yeah, Kira Yukimura would not have it any other way.

[yumecherie]

Here is my old Kirby I dusted off and reworked, I may or may not add Magolor to my f/o list now

Long ass dump about her backstory under cut (Mostly based off my own hc about Halcandra/magolor here but)

The spunky, lost princess of Halcandra, Estelle was simultaneously outcasted yet pressured into her role of being the princess because of her lack of magic. Tomboyish, feisty and not at all fond of the royal life, she met Magolor, one of the royal mages working in her castle. The two of them became friends and decided to run away from Halcandra, finding the Lor Starcutter in the process and sailing the galaxy. She was always more into science then royal duties, and together with Magolor's inventing skills, the two of them spent their time exploring the galaxy and creating their little gadgets, even sharing childish dreams of starting an amusement park together. It's the life she always wanted, free from all of her burden and pressures of her royal life. Over time however Magolor becoming more and more obsessed with the Master Crown and taking over Halcandra. Magolor too grew up believing that he was never good enough, but he wanted revenge and overthrow the kingdom, as well as the entire universe. As much as she hated her parents Estelle didn’t want that. Believing that he became more power hungry, she left Magolor as he tried to fight Landia by himself and lost that leads into the events of RTDL canon. (breakup arc)

To Kirby and friends during the events of RTDL, she probably looked more like an antagonist in preventing them from getting the Energy Spheres/Ship Parts, but this was supposed to be her preventing Magolor from getting the Master Crown all along, usually with the help of the Sphere Doomers. Over time, they would learn about her and Magolor's true goals. Being with Kirby allowed her to make up with her parents, and she thought that maybe Magolor would do the same. But alas, the Master Crown controlled him like the dangerous object she warned him about. And thus, he had to be struck down. She tried to move on, making a life for herself in Halcandra and Dream Land and helping the residents of both worlds.

..That was until Magolor came back. He did apologize, and while she didn't accept completely, they decided to get back together as friends (Or at least Estelle tried to, cause maybe Mags is starting to realize his feelings for her too late-). Estelle was probably there when Magolor helped Kirby and the rest of the Dream Friends fight void, and now helps him run theme park they always wanted in Merry Magoland.

She’s very sassy, tomboyish and spunky. As an alchemist, her abilities would likely be a repackage version of Doctor, but more "celestial", and she makes the same elemental potions the ability gives you. And also instead of pills she throws gears that can cut things!

She has Dreamy Gear AU Kirby's hat because I made her 3 years ago and I thought "what if Dreamy Gear was a game and the designs from that novel turned into an original character", then I turned her into this. Fun fact, Magolor made the bag she carries with her, along with her scarf

(and she carried them with her to remember him during their breakup arc)

[scattered-irises]

MOONAGE DAYDREAM

Chapter 5: Sunset

Pardon the influx of chapters! I was just informed of a posting rule that all works must be done by 3/8.

Rating: Teen

Words: 1852

Characters: Christopher Arclight, Mizael, Durbe

Warnings: Grief

Summary: The past lives and breathes beside the two.

This chapter was written by @trickbuster

Days pass, then a week has gone by. Mizael returns each day to visit V, who welcomes him in often with seldom more than a nod, silently gesturing to any neglected food that his youngest brother might have left out for him (which he seems to be eating more of in the coming days).  III, in turn, greets Mizael warmly upon his further returns and eagerly attends to his needs in equal capacity to V.  As he’d expressed, IV also seems appreciative of Mizael’s presence in their home, and his own days feel just a bit brighter in the newfound sense of community he’s built with them.

V is, of course, mostly invested in his work on the proposed rocket that Mizael had begged him for, reviewing old schematics and calculations, taking inventory and ordering parts.  Though he doesn’t entirely understand all of it, Mizael is at least confident that his return to the moon shall soon become a reality.

Though V certainly prefers to have alone time to focus on the project (not that he exactly has a lion’s share of people to collaborate with on such an endeavor, as far as Mizael can tell), he’s able to allot time to spend with Mizael as well when he can be persuaded to take a break from his work, idly sharing anecdotes and thoughts with one another.

On one such occasion, at the behest of III ensuring that he gets his fresh air for the day, V and Mizael find themselves sitting on the veranda of the estate as the sky is tinged with a brimming orange and lilac of the setting sun.  In III’s regular fashion, he’s lovingly decorated a tiered platter with sweets, fruit, and finger sandwiches for the two to partake in as he prepares tea for them.

“I never learned much about the stars in my previous life,” Mizael comments, nimbly picking up a sandwich between his index finger and thumb.  “Not about how they worked, at least.  It seems as though there is a lifetime of information to be learned about … ah … how the planets are connected to each other, and how they circle one another.  It’s quite technical, isn’t it?”

“Then again, you were from a time long past,” V contends.  “Of course, the other planets were once believed to be the realms of the gods — celestial spheres.  But as the centuries progressed, astronomers did take a more technical approach to understanding the worlds beyond rather than attributing it to a higher power.”

“And even then, it took centuries upon centuries to progress this far,” comments Mizael. 

V gives him a small, rare smile.  “Old beliefs got in the way, now and then … Sir Isaac Newton discovered the way in which gravity affected the planetary orbit, but he attributed orbital irregularities to divine intervention.  The hand of God fixing imperfections in the universe.”

“Divine intervention,” Mizael muses.  “Do you believe in such a thing?”

“You’ve seen gods with your own eyes, haven’t you?”

Mizael looks down at his hands. Everything, everything had been made by the almighty Numeron Dragon. And yet, even if they were from the same source, Mizael still felt as if he was floating in a void and merely observing the things around him.

“Yes, but they’re not perfect,” he replies after a few moments. 

“Well.”  V gives him a shrug.  “Though some believe otherwise, being a man of science does not mean shirking the idea of the impossible — it is trying to explain the impossible. When it exists, that is.”

“Ah.”  Mizael chuckles a bit.  “Will you one day be able to explain miracles with scientific accuracy?”

“It’s certainly explainable already.  Rather, it would moreso be attributed to chance …what could be considered luck or good fortune works on a percentile of—”

“Tea is ready!”

Smiling brightly, III wheels out a tray containing a floral teapot, carafe brimming with milk, and a bowl of sugar; placing two cups and saucers gently in front of the two.

“Sorry for the delay … black tea with hibiscus and raspberry leaves.  Just the right temperature!”

III scurries back inside just as quickly as the two are able to thank him, and V turns his gaze to the display before him, shaking his head.

“He really ought to join us sometime, though I imagine he’s bringing some to Thomas,” he laments.  “You know, Mizael, you should — ah, that’s right…”

“Hm?”

“I was going to say … this particular blend goes excellently with a modest helping of milk and just a pinch of sugar, but you don’t enjoy either, if I recall.”  Chris begins pouring a cup for Mizael.  “You take it, ah…”

“Plain?  Yes, if you haven’t noticed yet, I never—”  Mizael stops short as he hears a barely-audible sniff punctuate the air, his wandering eyes now darting back over to V, whose hand trembles as he places the teapot back on the table.  “What’s the matter?”

“It’s … oh, it’s nothing, I…”  Despite his protests, V suddenly appears unable to contain himself as he hides his face behind his sleeve.

“Well, something’s clearly wrong.”  Mizael looks him in the eye.  “Don’t try to conceal it.”

“Oh, it really is foolish…”  Chris buries his head in his hands.  “It just reminded me … Kaito … he always took his tea plain, as well.  I only just thought of that, and now…”

Though with some uncertainty, Mizael gets up from his chair.  He circles over to V and rests a hand on his back, fingers sinking through long silver hair.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Mizael murmurs.  “You don’t need to keep all of your grief inside, you know.”

“I don’t,” Chris snaps, his voice heavy with emotion.  “It’s only that I try not to handle it with such unsightliness and I…I apologize for my tone.”

“But you shouldn’t be handling it alone.”  Mizael knows this to be a bold statement, but he feels no regret for saying it.  “Perhaps I did not know him as you did, and perhaps I am at fault for his fate, but this is not something to keep inside.”

Kaito… it’s true that Mizael knew him only for a short time, but he had felt drawn to him the moment he first laid eyes on him.  He’d matched Kaito’s fervor on the battlefield, driven him to his limits; he’d never felt more alive than when they crossed paths, and yet … he never knew him as V did.  He had never taken tea with Kaito on the veranda, had never pondered the nature of the stars with him, had never known every part of him the way that V had.

It had never occurred to him, after all, to demand that Kaito be remembered at the party as V had.

“Perhaps I was too hard on him.”  V’s outburst disrupts Mizael’s train of thought.  “I devoted all my energy to teaching him to be strong, but … perhaps I never learned to make him happy.  I only made him miserable, and now he’s gone.”

Mizael’s hand tenses on his back.  “I know you cared a great deal about him … V, when we find him on the moon, you—”

V pulls away from Mizael’s touch and turns to him with a wistful look.  “He’s dead, Mizael.  That is the unchangeable truth.  But if we can bring his body back from the moon, allow his father and brother a proper burial … maybe that is the best that we two can do for him, if we could not reconcile him in life.”

Mizael can’t help but wonder if that really is true, but he hasn’t the gall to argue with Chris at the moment.  Seeing him in such pain, he only wishes to listen to him and allow him to feel just a bit less alone in this moment.

“Yes … perhaps that is best, V.”

“Chris.”

Mizael blinks.  “What?”

“Call me Chris … as my friends and family do,”  Chris musters a warm smile through his tear-stained visage.

“Yes, of course … Chris.”  

The words sound so strange in his mouth.

“Are you sure? IV told me you dislike being called that,” he recounts. 

Christopher slightly shakes his head. 

“Chris is a…very special name for me. I only let my father and Kaito call me that,” he replies.

“Why me, then?” asks Mizael.

Because he is Kaito’s ghost. This wasn’t the first time Christopher said a habit of Mizael reminded him of Kaito. The way he walks. The way he reads. The way he pronounces a certain word. Prickles crawl up Mizael’s back. He won’t be a replacement for his rival. He simply can’t. It would be spitting on Kaito’s memory. 

In the distance, Mizael can see the white outline of a spacesuit. The sound of struggling, final breaths fills his ears. He’s coming, he’s coming. Nausea fills his chest and he tears his gaze away from Christopher and stares at the grass. He isn’t trying to replace Kaito. Honest. 

Noticing the emotions flashing across Mizael’s face, Christopher awkwardly clears a strand of hair from his face. For the first time, nervousness fills his usually cool demeanor. 

“Because you’re…a friend?” says Christopher, his voice wavering with uncertainty at the end. 

V slightly shrinks in on himself, an impressive achievement for someone of his stature. He rubs at his teary eyes. He avoids Mizael’s eyes, pursing his lips. For a moment, he looks like a lost child.

“Apologies. I…You don’t have to be my friend. I…Kaito…he was my only friend,” confesses V, his voice tight. 

Mizael forces himself to look back up at V. A bit of the heaviness in his chest has dissipated at Christopher’s earnest expression. 

“Oh. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after this and that’s why…”

He trails off, looking at the array of pastries on the table in the setting sunlight. 

“Yes, we can be friends,” he mumbles. 

Christopher perks up. Light fills his eyes. A small smile graces his thin lips. It’s like the sun has come out on a face that has rarely seen it. 

Mizael recalls some advice Durbe gave him on being friendlier. He reaches his hand out to V’s. Despite how warm it was, V’s hand is cold. He places his hand on V’s, hoping to warm it. He had such long fingers…

At Mizael’s touch, a brief moment of surprise fills Christopher’s expression. Then, he relaxes his shoulders and gives him a genuine smile. Mizael suddenly takes notice of the unattended teapot, picking it up and pouring its contents into Chris’s empty cup.  

“You said this is best with a good helping of milk and a pinch of sugar?” he asks.

Christopher perks up and glances at the tea.

“Oh … yes, if you wouldn’t mind…”

Mizael prepares Chris’s tea to his suggestion (albeit a bit clumsily) and settles back into his seat with his own cup, listening raptly to him as he returns to explaining percentiles.  Above them, he can’t help but stare as the stars begin to come out.

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine.

Word Count: 2420

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. May have future SMUT 18+!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 35 - Heaven

The three “landed” in a white hallway lined with white doors, all of which were numbered. Maria remembered this place from her first dreams as a child, although there were no angels in this particular hallway. She took a slow, deep breath, centering herself. She could feel all the souls of Heaven, as well as the celestial beings. It was a lot to process. 

“You okay?” Cas asked her curiously but also concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just a lot to take in,” she replied, finding her sense of peace again, letting it radiate out and through Heaven.

They began walking down the long, white hallway. There were white lights around each of the doors along the inside of the doorframe, and the numbers were also illuminated. She also noticed that there was a light strip along the baseboard between each of the doors. It reminded Maria almost of a maze. The ceiling was double her height and relatively plain. Something else she found interesting was that the air was utterly void of odor or scent. 

Maria walked with the two angels behind her, walking beside each other. She let her intuition guide her, turning down different hallways. She felt each soul with every door she passed. They were happy and mostly at peace, but she could feel that they seemed to be longing for something.

After turning down yet another white hallway, she saw two angels standing on either side of an opening, reminding her of guards. She sighed as the three of them approached the guards.

“May I pass?” she asked the guards, mildly curious.

“We have orders not to let you in. Those two are to be arrested to face the consequences of their actions,” the guard to Maria’s left told her somewhat sternly.

She sighed, “I’m trying to be diplomatic about this. Now please, let me pass,” she asked the guards again, who still refused to move and allow her passage.

Stubborn angels, she thought to herself.

Two angels appeared behind the trio, but when they went to reach for Cas and Mari, they stopped mid-reach. Maria sighed and turned to face them. Archangels. She shook her head slightly, “I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk,” she explained.

“We have our orders,” the archangel on her right stated.

Maria hadn’t wanted it to go this route and was still determined to do things as diplomatically as possible. She let her inner grace brighten, that soft yet vibrant purple, her wings now a silhouette behind her as her eyes glowed slightly.

“And I just want to talk. Are your orders from God, the so-called prophet?” she asked him, tilting her head just a bit.

The archangel was taken aback by her words. Mari and Cas just smiled, staying quiet for now. The guards were also stunned at the revelation. She approached the archangels, still not entirely sure which ones they were.

“You can feel that peace. I’m not here to hurt anyone. Perhaps foil someone’s plans of an apocalypse, but not to hurt anyone,” she reiterated, smiling softly at the two.

As she reached a hand out to each of them, they took a step back from her, and she sighed, seeing them both fashioning an angel blade they’d let slip into their hands from their sleeves. Maria held up her hand, “No,” she spoke softly. The angel blades disappeared, shocking all four of the angels that were attempting to keep her from her goals. Maria sighed, then went back to face the two guards. She needed to go down that hallway. Past the guards, she could vaguely see that it opened up into a room adorned in white like the rest of the place.

“Let her pass,” a male voice said from inside the open room.

The guards moved to the side. Maria took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, and then walked into the open room, Mari and Cas following her with the two archangels behind them. They passed a couple more numbered doors before reaching the room. 

On the opposite side of the room was a white throne. It looked simple, although the back of it almost reminded her of how the hat of the pope looked. To either side, there were smaller chairs. On one side of the room was a table, which was also white. On the other side was a white couch. There were also several angels in the room, with a man sitting on the throne. Maria took in their expressions and emotions. She felt that same curiosity coming off the angels in the room that she’d felt from Cas when she’d met him.

“Why are you here?” God/Chuck asked her, and Maria could tell he was attempting to keep his composure.

The two archangels that had been behind them took a seat on either side of the throne as Maria stopped roughly four feet from the throne, “I’m here to talk. Do you prefer God or Chuck?” she told him, still calmly.

Maria’s soft yet vibrant purple glow pulsed slightly. Being in Heaven seemed almost to increase her powers. She didn’t fully understand it at the moment, though, as her focus was on the task at hand. She could also hear the other angels whispering to each other as they pointed and watched her with Mari and Cas. 

He wasn’t pleased with her boldness or how she was managing to stay so calm. The thing that was really getting to him was that energy coming from her, permeating the room. It brought him discomfort, and he shifted on his throne, leaning his elbow on the arm of the throne, his jaw resting on his fist, trying to at least look relaxed.

“God’s fine. What do you want to talk about?” he asked begrudgingly. He knew he’d have to play this right, or all of Heaven would rebel against him if they knew too much of what his plans had been.

“I’ve already spoken with Lilith. She agreed to let the souls that belong in Heaven be here, that was early this morning. She also agreed to a reform program for souls in Hell that want to redeem themselves and come to Heaven,” Maria explained, taking note of how the other angels continued whispering but never taking their eyes off of her.

She was good; he had to give her that, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud. He shifted in his seat so that he was sitting up straighter, “Why are you even worried about that? You’re an abomination, and you shouldn’t exist,” he stated, now looking at Mari.

Maria took a deep breath, mustering her confidence, “This has everything to do with me. I’ve come to bring back the peace of the beginning. To remind not only the angels but also you what it was like in the beginning when you cared.”

Now, all the angel's eyes were on God/Chuck. Cas and Mari were smiling, noticing the shift in the room. Even the archangels were looking at God, questioning what exactly was going on, almost as if their memories had been erased from that time, so long ago.

“Back then, you encouraged the intermingling of man and angel. Nephilim weren’t an abomination. They used to be a symbol of love that the communities welcomed with open arms. It was when the demons and Lucifer began whispering in the ears of men that things changed, and you did nothing. You didn’t protect any of them, and now you’re deliberately trying to bring about an apocalypse,” Maria continued, calmly yet bluntly.

“What is she talking about?” the archangel to his left asked.

“Ignore her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” God attempted to dismiss her words.

Maria tilted her head a bit, “I can show them, to make things easier,” she offered, half smiling, trying not to smirk.

Chuck glared at her. He wanted to do something to stop her but knew that there was nothing he could do, not with how her powers had flourished. Plus, he could tell that she was protecting Castiel and Zamariel. Before he could say anything, though, Maria closed her eyes, sharing her memories with all the angels of Heaven, not just the ones in that room. She showed them what Mari had told her, what she’d learned from Cas and the one interaction she’d had with Chuck in his home. All the angels turned to look at Chuck, who also saw her memories.

“Is this true?” the archangel to his right asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” God argued, his anger flaring, feeling the angels' faith wavering.

“I want you on board with the reform program that Lilith has implemented. I also want Heaven to truly care about the souls that are here. My next question is for the angels. What do you think would bring the most happiness and peace to a soul?” Maria explained; near the end, she looked to the angels in the room.

There were a lot of quiet whispers, but all of them were thinking, even the archangels. Chuck looked livid. Maria waited patiently for one of the angels to speak up, hoping they could see the same thing she did.

“To see their loved ones?” a woman’s voice said from somewhere to Maria’s left. 

Maria smiled a little, “You’d be right,” she answered softly, her gaze never leaving Chuck’s.

Again, all the angel's eyes went to God, who was fuming where he sat. There were more murmurs from the angels, and several more showed up in the hallway to see what was happening.

“So, my next question to all of you is this: if seeing their loved ones would make a soul happiest, most at peace, then why hasn’t God set up Heaven to allow such a thing?” Maria suggested.

A pulse could be felt through Heaven by all of them. All their eyes looked up and around as the lights in the room pulsed again. Maria kept her eyes on Chuck, and he kept his eyes on her.

“What’s happening?” a male angel asked from somewhere in the back of the crowd that had gathered.

Maria sighed, “The faith that once powered Heaven is wavering.” She paused, though, wanting to choose her words carefully. The last thing she needed was a ton of scared angels, “God, why not let that peace come back? Why are you so hellbent on bringing about the apocalypse?” she insisted.

“Damnit! Why did you have to go and ruin everything, Zamariel!?” God yelled, ignoring Maria completely.

Mari stood confidently, just behind Maria, Cas by her side, “Why don’t you answer her?” Mari mused.

Chuck growled. He reminded Maria of a child throwing a tantrum at the moment. The angel's eyes were still on him, confused with all that had been revealed.

“It was supposed to be the fight of the century. Resetting things with fewer people. Less corruption. Yeah, half the planet might have gotten destroyed in the process, but it would have recovered. None of the angels would have been the wiser,” God went off, rambling as he paced, his words laced with anger.

Heaven pulsed again. Maria took a slow, deep breath, centering herself, holding onto that peace she’d come to enjoy and letting it radiate from her. Her eyes then glowed in the soft yet vibrant purple as she looked at Chuck, “Heaven doesn’t need you to run things. It’s not God that people believe in. It’s an idea of God. An idea that you no longer are.”

With another pulse, the angels all got their memories back from the time of the beginning. A look of realization crossed their faces, their gazes going from Maria to God and back to Maria. She could feel their apprehension and worry.

“GET OUT!” God yelled at Maria.

The two archangels that were sitting on either side of him stood, setting a hand on either of his shoulders, “This isn’t what Heaven was meant to be,” the one to his left stated.

Maria took a deep breath, “I think you need to experience what it’s like to live like a human, like one of your creations,” she told Chuck, stepping closer to him.

“You can’t…” he almost looked afraid the closer she got.

She tilted her head just a bit, smiling softly at him, “I can, and I think it’s what you need, so you can remember what you found most precious about them.”

Maria then reached out and set her hand on his chest, that same soft yet vibrant purple light appearing under her hand. She’d locked his powers away, deep inside him, only to be unlocked when he remembered. Then, she teleported him to Earth so that he could go live a human existence.

“What are we supposed to do now?” a female angel asked.

With a shaky breath, Maria turned to face Mari, “I need you to stay here with Cas. The angels need guidance that only you can bring them.”

Mari felt tears sliding down her cheeks, “I’m so proud of you, Little One,” she told her daughter, then embraced her in a hug, which Maria returned, and one more pulse went through Heaven.

With that, Heaven changed. They were now in more of a lobby of sorts, resembling that of a hotel you’d find near a ski resort. The angels all looked around. This was their new office. Heaven itself was different as well for the souls that were there. There were no more rooms, keeping the souls separate from each other. Now they had free roam of Heaven to visit their loved ones as they wanted.

The angels relaxed, their eyes now on Maria and Zamariel. The two separated before Cas came over and hugged Maria, then she addressed the angels, “Zamariel will stay with all of you. She’ll help you understand things and set up the reform program. I don’t know how long it will take for God to remember what’s important, but when he does, he’ll be able to return to you.”

Mari again had tears in her eyes, more proud of her daughter than she could ever express in words. She knew it would be a long road, re-teaching the angels how to have humanity and how to think for themselves, helping them get over the mind control and memory wipes that God had done to them over the millennia.

The two exchanged one last hug before Maria flew back to the bunker, landing in the library.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 36

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[foxglove-the-never-fairy]

Could the Fairies Survive in Space?

Fly with you! Something you probably didn't know was that I'm a huge Star Trek fan. Currently, I've been rewatching the series (in chronological order according to Starfleet's history but that's not important.)

Upon viewing the series the question popped into my head; could the fairies survive in space? More below.

SPOILER WARNING: I will be using spoilers from Wings of Starlight. It's a light spoiler but here's your warning to avoid if you still haven't read the book.

~🧚🏻‍♀️🔥 Foxglove

For starters, I don't think the fairies would develop space travel. Not because they aren't capable (they aren't ) but mostly because they have no desire to. Aside from counting stars, green prophetic comets, and throwing parties under the full moon, they haven't shown an interest in going into space. They may not even know about space, but then again the movie fairies are changing the seasons under the guise of the earth's rotation around the sun so it's possible they are aware of space.

In the latest book, Wings of Starlight, it is revealed that the Queen's of Pixie Hollow were born from stars that fall to the Earth that were wished upon by children. Once their reign is over, they go back to the stars. Whether it's literal or just a poetic way of saying they straight up die is up to readers interpretation. I'm of the belief that they die, but then again Never Land is magical and maybe their consciousness returns to the stars. So they are at least aware of a place outside of earth where celestial bodies exist.

But if a fairy were to find themselves in a space craft that was launched into space, what would happen to them? Would they be OK? Could they survive?

Despite there being no evidence to suggest it, I don't think they could. I think the reason they have no desire to go to space is because they're heavily tied to the Earth and it's people.

The movie fairies are heavily tied to the nature and the seasons. The book fairies rely on the children of earth to believe in them so they may continue to exist. What would they do in an environment where they're away from pixie dust, nature, and the children of earth?

This ties back into why the fairies have no desire for space travel. They're magical creatures who live in a magical world that seems to heavily rely on Earth, no matter if their from the book or movie. If taken away from their environment that is void of nature and children, I think they would cease to exist.

My decision was also inspired from another Disney property Gargoyles. Tl;dr Gargoyles are also heavily linked to the Earth for various reasons. It's theorized that they couldn't live off planet.

But what are your thoughts? Do you think they could survive off planet? Do you think they would have a desire to explore space?

[waifuoftomonori]

Thoughts on Scarlet Fate Characters (Love Interests and Shiki)

Before I get into the nitty-gritty: these opinions are based on incomplete information. No, I have not read all of the characters’ routes or stories, and yes, I am biased by the ones I have read. (I don’t know if anyone else ever grows so deeply attached to one or two characters from an otome that reading any other character’s route becomes painful, because the whole time you’re thinking of how wrong it feels to be with anyone other than the character you really care about, and they must be so hurt and/or lonely in this route, and if you do interact with them the interactions will probably revolve around the designated love interest and not even a simple check-up on your true love’s well-being— or if that’s just a me thing. But yes, that happened to me with Scarlet Fate, so I’ve only read a couple of routes and have no desire to complete any others.)

Furthermore, I apologize if my assessment of certain characters comes off as rude or disrespectful. Sometimes it’s a joke, for what that’s worth. Obviously, you are allowed to disagree, love whoever you love, etc. At this point it would be cool just to meet someone else who’s still as obsessed with at least one of these characters as much as I am. Or, well, even just half as much. If you are a fellow Hiiro no Kakera 4 enjoyer, even in September of 2023 (or later!), please message me and we can gush together. I know I write a lot of sexy stuff, but I’m happy to keep the conversation on strictly PG topics if you’re not comfortable with that.

Sorry that took so long. Onto the opinions. (Warning: some of the details might be a bit NSFW.)

Shiki (a.k.a. Princess Tamayori)

One of the most badass otome heroines I’ve ever encountered, and definitely the edgiest (but in a good way.)

Cool enough to get her own CG. (Technically multiple CGs, if you count the one from the summer festival story where she’s performing the dance.)

Single-handedly made Gentoka’s route enjoyable.

Hard for me to assign a DnD class to. (I’ve spent probably an abnormal amount of time thinking of what class everyone would be.) I can see elements of Cleric, Fighter, Paladin, and Warlock (probably the celestial kind for the healing). Maybe she’s a multiclasser or took some feats or something.

Tomonori

The guy who ruined all other otome love interests for me, for which I am eternally grateful.

Definitely a top.

Fully clothed eye candy.

Halfling (reskinned as short human) mastermind rogue, easy. —Yes, he’s a halfling. You read what happens in Tomonori’s story and tell me he doesn’t display both a notable resistance to intimidation attempts, most of them by a man twice his size, and an uncanny amount of good fortune right when he needs it. Probably a lightfoot because they’re the sneakier ones.

HIs DnD alignment is a more complex question. Where to start? He’s perfectly willing to either destroy or save the world at the request of the woman he loves. He’s willing to kill innocents for her, if necessary, and he encourages people to sacrifice themselves for her (as with the suicide-bombing mages in one of the early prolonged fights against the Void), but all of the people who die for the Princess do it knowingly, of their own free will, and he’s not happy about their deaths. He’s also fully willing to sacrifice himself for this purpose. He’s a government figure and comes up with a lot of plans and schemes, which are usually logical and well-thought-out, but he’s also secretly dedicated himself to freeing Shiki and dismantling the whole system from within. Oh, and he commits outright document theft in Akifusa’s route. I think he’s mostly a good person, but I also can’t overlook that he knowingly bound himself to a Chaotic Evil artifact bent on ending the world and allowed it to possess him for a time. For the purpose of destroying it. …I’m going to be a little controversial and say True Neutral, although I think you could make a convincing argument for several alignments.

Surprisingly kinky. His route alone includes bondage, punishments, controlling people via the Power of Words, emotional sadism, bodily possession (as the one possessed), drinking blood via kiss, and plenty of teasing. …Do I exaggerate his dominant tendencies in my fanfiction? Yes. Is there a solid basis within the game for that interpretation? Definitely. Does the list of kinks grow even longer in the CD Drama? You bet it does. (He would probably also enjoy vanilla sex, though, and it’s hard to imagine him going in for physical sadism with Shiki, for obvious reasons.)

Akifusa

Sunshine-and-puppies cinnamon roll boi. Deserves head pats.

Definitely a bottom.

Barbarian who thinks he’s a paladin (or at least a fighter who adheres strictly to an Oath of Honor) because he doesn’t learn how to fully rage until halfway through his own route. Lawful Good, of course.

Zero sex appeal… until you realize you’re looking at him from the wrong perspective, and he’s a sub with high pain tolerance, incredible stamina, and insane recovery time (canonically from near-death experiences, but it’s never specified that he doesn’t also recover from orgasm at the same rate :P). Oh yeah, and he transforms into his uber-buff ancestor with horns and fangs when he “rages”, so you could play with that aspect of it too.

Gentoka

One of the three characters whose main routes I’ve fully read.

I found him boring. (Read his route if you want to see Shiki kick ass, though.)

The most interesting thing about him is Aterui.

Probably a wildfire druid. Alignment: Chaotic Good? He really likes fire and ignores societal rules, but meeting (and instantly falling in love with) Shiki somehow made him reconsider most of his life’s choices and decide that some humans are okay after all.

Furutsugu

Pox-ridden whore who committed two unforgivable acts at the end of Gentoka’s route: 1. killing the cinnamon roll and 2. indirectly killing the best boi as a result. (True, you’re left to read between the lines for why Tomo suddenly “disappeared” after his best friend got murdered protecting Shiki from this bourgeoisie bastard, and the woman he’s loved for years gets hitched with some random fox guy she met in the woods a couple months ago… but personally, I think it’s pretty obvious. He doesn’t feel loved or needed, it’s probably torturing him to see Shiki with Gentoka but he knows she’s happy now and doesn’t want to make a scene, and Akifusa’s no longer there to talk him out of it and bolster his spirits with unflagging optimism. So yeah, fuck Furutsugu. Not in the way he’d want.)

I kinda love to hate him, though. He’s great inspiration for fanfic plots, largely because he still hits on Shiki after she’s married, and hating / mistrusting him is one of the few things Tomo and Aki agree on without question.

One of the high-rizz spellcasters. Not Warlock— Sorcerer or Bard? The source of his magic’s probably closer to Sorcerer (I think; I’ve never played his route), but he acts more like a stereotypical Bard. He’s flirty and plays the flute. Would gladly seduce a dragon if given the opportunity. Alignment: I’ll tentatively guess Chaotic Neutral. (Tempted to knock him down to Evil out of spite, but I’ll resist the urge.)

Kuso

Darling of the Internet. Everyone online who’s played Scarlet Fate, other than me, seems to have something nice to say about him.

I’ve heard his route is good, for people who haven’t fallen so desperately in love with Tomonori that the mere thought of “romancing” someone else breaks their hearts. Go play it and tell me if Tomo has any cute / snarky / sweet / sexy / romantic / just Tomo moments in it.

Probably some kind of -dere? He gives -dere vibes. I think there’s one that acts like a snob on the outside but secretly has a soft center. Yes. That is probably what he is.

From the scant knowledge I have of him, he uses magic to gain information a lot and is the only one who actually studies it. Divination Wizard. Alignment: Lawful Neutral, maybe? In Chapter 3 of Tomo’s route, he suggests they just let the tsuchigumo die and focus on the demon until Tomo points out that means they won’t be fighting the demon with full firepower. His objection to Tomo’s sly suggestion to “eliminate” the tsuchigumo is solely logical: that’s causing the exact thing Tomo claimed his plan would avoid. He gives off strong “rational scientist” vibes (layered on top of the -dere vibes).

Kodonomae

Shirtless eye candy.

Seems like a chill dude.

Eldritch Knight Fighter, maybe. Mostly uses a giant anime sword but can use some kind of water magic effectively. Alignment: no clue, but not Evil and probably not Lawful.

Aterui

Not over Gentoka. (Seriously, why is this guy even a romance option for Shiki? I got eight or nine chapters into his story, and although she was clearly crushing on him by that point, he still seemed much more interested in his old flame, pun intended.)

To clarify, I have nothing against gay characters in otome. I just think it’s misleading for a romance game to make a route for a character who has no romantic or sexual interest in the player character— especially when he seems much more interested in someone else throughout the whole thing.

Honestly, just let me romance Aterui as Gentoka. That would be cool, and it would solve the issue of his lack of interest in Shiki. (Also, in a hypothetical world where they did release that route, they’d probably also have a route for Aki x Tomo, considering Tomo’s Winter Snowflakes story was released at the same time as Aterui’s. And considering Tomo’s idea of a joke when the two of them are “friends” is to tie Akifusa up with rope and calmly say he’s going to leave Aki outside to die, you know that route would be kinky as fuck.)

Either Neutral or Chaotic Evil in most routes. The guy’s a serial killer murdering nobles for revenge against an atrocity none of them have personally committed by this point. In his own route, from what I remember, his killing did have more of an immediate justification, so maybe he gets bumped up to Neutral there.

I don’t know what class he is. Does it matter? Barbarian or Fighter. He’s pretty angry, but I can’t tell if that’s just his default state of being or if he gets even angrier in a fight.

Maybe also into BDSM / a dom, but if he is, it’s exclusively physical sadism. Just sheer brutal violence. Then again, I’m basing that on the time he tried to choke Shiki to death, and I don’t know if he actually enjoyed that or if he was just losing his temper. Tomo clearly gets a kick out of tying people up, ordering them around, and “punishing” them in a few notable cases; Aterui just really likes committing violence and killing people.

…Please don’t hate me for saying any of that.

[lilith-little-world]

The Oracle|| Concept Oneshot 2||

This is in 3rd perspective and heavily rushed. Be warned angst is coming and slight comfort, but mostly hurt.

Pillars of ice reach the dark sky. Making the land brittle and dead. However, this sight wasn't anything new. The girl saw this scene a hundred times but it was her first seeing it in person. The atmosphere was cold and heavy, as dread filled her body. She continues on the slow walk down the dead soil.

“Stay calm, this is a dream.” She says under her breath. Trying to calm her raging nerves.

“For now, at least.”

A feminine voice softly spoke. Quickly the frightened woman turned around to see a girl. Who wore a small smile.

“It’s you.”

“Indeed, we haven't been able to meet one on one since that day. Tell me, how is this world treating you so far?”

The air became thicker and colder as the small girl slowly closed the distance between the two. The woman couldn't open her mouth.

“You must have suffered so much. It's a shame that I couldn't get to you first. Being exposed to such awful hardships.”

Something within the woman didn't let her move. The world shifts from a blinding misty blue, before reverting to normal. She clutches her head in hopes to stop the nauseating pain. Ice formed around her feet, making sure she won't be able to run. The girl's smile turns malicious as she reaches toward the woman's scared face.

“That's why I need you, to purge this cursed land. Bringing peace and happiness to all of the people. No more worries, no more pain, only pure bliss.”

The Lady Bone Demon brought her lips close to the terrified woman’s ear. She softly whispers her next words.

“So stop trying to change the future, it's not your destiny to do so. Come back to me and join the others. Can't you hear them?”

Whispers fill the quiet void, chanting the same thing.

‘Join us.’

The ice slowly consumes her body, reaching her stomach.

“Let's make the perfect world, where everyone is happy. You know deep down this is your destiny, to be dead.”

The Lady Bone Demon grabs Y/n’s hair, forcing her head up. Staring right into her eyes, shifting between the familiar pale blue that shines brightly and a dull e/c.

“Oh, my~ looks like you just made the future worse for your friends.” She smirks, turning to her side. The scene changed, now standing on top of the mech.

“Do you want to see how you will die?” The Lady Bone Demon whispers softly as other spirits repeat her words.

‘Do you want to see how you will die?’

‘Again…’

Misty blue figures slowly appear, trying to play out a scene.

“Then again, you can always see it from that damn monkey’s point of view.”

Tears were falling off her face, shaking her head trying to not see the upcoming scene. As if on cue, a golden light blinds everyone. The cold air becomes warm.

Y/n opens her eyes to see the same old white ceiling. It took her a minute to register where she was at. Sitting up on her extremely warm bed.

“What just happened?” She says softly, finally noticing the peach-colored monkey sitting up against the wall.

“Want the good or bad news first?” His eyes were staring at the floor in front of him.

“After that nightmare, might as well ask for the bad news first.” She sighs, before heading towards Wukong. Hand reaching out for him to take. He just hands her the bracelet instead.

“Well, it seems like LBD was trying to forcefully take your soul when you fell asleep. However, I just managed to get here in time. I took off your bracelet hoping that the blessing you somehow received could save you and it did. So next time, take off the bracelet when going to bed.”

He didn't look her in the eyes. Fearing what the celestial being saw. Yeah, he was scared that he nearly lost her but when taking the bracelet off, he saw his grim future. A future where you're not in…

Maybe messing with destiny wasn't such a good idea.

This resulted in someone having to pay the price for defying its rules and looks like they found someone.

A soft whine came from his side. He noticed that Y/n’s dog was rubbing her face against his pants. As if the dog senses his uneasiness. Wukong pet the animal trying to calm down.

Y/n stares at the Wukong, his behavior makes her nervous. She had never seen him so defeated. Putting the bracelet back on her right wrist. Y/n decided it was best to sit beside him. Leaning against his shoulder.

“You don't have to tell me what got you afraid.” Y/n said, resting her head. “In a bit we can head out and eat something for breakfast.”

Wukong let out a chuckle, his tail wrapping around Y/n’s waist.

“That sounds lovely, let's call it a date and we can head to Pigsy’s, my treat.”

The dog's tail wags getting excited from the happy atmosphere.

“Also how the hell did you know I was in trouble? Last time I checked, you were heading home.” Y/n asks, with a smirk.

“Okay, so I may come around at certain times at night to check up on you.”

“So you were low-key stalking me?”

“I take my new job of watching over you very seriously. Actually, I'm quite offended by your word choice!” He turns his head away from her. Y/n laughs.

“If you wanted to sleep over, I wouldn't have minded. Anyways, I guess, your guarding did pay off well. Thank you for saving me.”

Wukong's expression slightly falls from her words.

He won't be able to save her next time.

_____________________________

This was a short one, but I'm just coming up with ideas that come to me. Hopefully, the next oneshot will have a little bit more characters and more plot revealed. Soon the story will be more polished and you guys can finally read the whole thing!

[thelegendofdiaperhorse]

MANIFESTO

MANIFESTO

H9UHHH))))))00HHHHHHHHHH (

THE LEGEND OF DIAPER HORSE

HORSE MUSIC THE FREEDOM OF THE STEPPE MONGOL HORDE BURN DOWN YOUR VILLAGE START A CULT THE GLORY OF SPEED PRACTICED BY SUCH GREAT AMERICAN LUMINARIES AS JUNIOR JOHNSON PAUL ERDŐS FILIPPO TOMMASO MARINETTI NICK LAND VRISKA SERKET AND AYN RAND THE GREATEST AMERICAN OF THE 2OTH CENTURY THE THE ERA OF THE PETROL&IC HORSE IN WHICH THE ETERNAL & CELESTIAL AMERICA WAS REALIZED ON EARTH TAKE SPEED AND FUCKING FLOOR IT TAKE SPEED AND FUCKING FLOOR IT TAKE SPEED AND FUCKING FLOOR IT

LIBERATE THE GLORY OF SPEED FLOOR IT LIKE A BAT OUT OF ANNUAL SHAREHOLDER REPORT EROTIC 1O-K READINGS I BELIEVE THAT HEAVEN IS AN ETERNALLY CRASHING MOTORCYCLE WHOSE PARTS MELT AND SPATTER AND REMATERIALIZE INTO INFINITY NEW MOTORCYCLES TRAVELING AT INFINITE SPEED AND INFINITE EXPLOSION THROUGH THE WEB OF THE COSMIC HORSE

GG ALLIN THE GREATEST PROPHET OF THE ETERNAL & CELESTIAL AMERICA SHAT & PISSED ON STAGE THREW CHAIRS AT PEOPLE &VIOLENTFAGMOVEMENT TEMPLE TO ROCK & ROLL

THEY PLAY MUSIC ABOUT ROCK & ROLL IN GROCERY STORES & FAMILY FRIENDLY FAST CASUAL CHAIN DINING RESTAURANTS BECAUSE YOU DON&T KNOW IT MEANS FUCK & IF YOU DO KNOW IT MEANS FUCK YOU DO NOT LIVE OUT THE ESOTERIC MESSAGE OF THE CELESTIAL AMERICA YOU DO NOT GO FORTH AND FUCK YOU BECOME NOSTALGIC FOR THE CONCEPT OF FUCK THE CONCEPT OF FUCK IS NOSTALGIC TO YOU THE CONCEPT OF FUCK TRIGGERS NOSTALGIC MEMORIES AND FEELINGS OF LOSS CAREFULLY IMPLANTED IN YOU OVER DECADES BY TRICKNOLOGISTS OF LORD YAKUB GREYFACE

FUCK MUSIC CROSS THE EVENT HORIZON OF THE HAPTIC VOID MUSIC THAT PUNCHES YOU IN THE FACE WHY NOT MUSIC THAT FUCKS YOU FUCK MUSIC MUST BE REBORN ANEW IN EVERY ERA BY SAGES & PROPHETS FUCK MUSIC MUST BE OF GREAT SPEED TO OUTRACE THE TRICKNOLOGISTS OF LORD GREYFACE YAKUB HANATARASH BACKHOE PHILHARMONIC

Americans are having less sex, whether they’re teenagers or in their 4Os. One of the most comprehensive sex studies to date — the National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior — found evidence of declines in all types of partnered sexual activity in the U.S. Over the course of the study from 2OO9 to 2O18, those surveyed reported declines in penile-vaginal intercourse, anal sex and partnered masturbation.

Average relative annual declines in the prevalence of each behavior— except for weapon carrying—ranged from 1–6%. The structure of the latent factor was mostly unchanged over time, with notable exceptions related to differential changes in prevalence for cigarette and cannabis use. Between 1999 and 2O17, the mean of the latent factor declined by between O.54 and O.73 standard deviations.

Results suggest that much of the decline in the prevalence of substance use, delinquent, and sexual behaviors among American youth from 1999–2O17 reflect an approximately two-thirds standard deviation decline in the mean of a latent risk behavior factor.

KOYANUSQATSI SINE WAVE REPRESENTS PRINCIPLE OF STASIS UNFATHOMABLY AMPLICATED KICK DRUM SQUARE WAVE REPRESENTS PRINCIPLE OF DYNAMISM THESE FORCES MUST LIVE IN BALANCE AND ETERNAL CAVALRIC WARFARE ATOP THE COSMIC HORSE THE OCCULT MEANING OF THE ELECTRIC GUITAR THE ETERNAL INSTRUMENT OF THE CELESTIAL AMERICA IS THAT LIFE IS SOMETHING THAT REACHES BEYOND ITSELF BEYOND THAT WHICH ITS SYSTEM CAN GRASP OR CONVEY RECOMPILE AUDACITY TO WARN YOU WHEN YOUR SOUND FILES DON&T CLIP ENOUGH

THE SUN IS DOWN THE HORSE IS NIGH MODS ARE ASLEEP POST HORSE

DONALD BABYFUR TRUMP PEE TAPE DONALD TRUMP PISSFAGGOT DIAPER PEE DONALD TRUMP PISSFAGGOT DRAG QUEEN DONALD TRUMP TRANSSEXUAL BABYFUR HYPERPOP DONALD TRUMP BISEXUAL AROMANTIC DONALD TRUMP FRAT BOY DONALD TRUMP WATERSPORTS KEG STAND DONALD TRUMP SUCKING COCK AT A WATERSPORTS KEG STAND DONALD TRUMP EATING PISS PUSSY AT A WATERSPORTS KEG STAND PUA DONALD TRUMP FDS DONALD TRUMP FLDS DONALD TRUMP LDS DONALD TRUMP I SCORED WITH RUSSIAN PISS HOOKERS BACKWARDS BASEBALL CAP WHITE RAPPER BABYFUR DONALD TRUMP

GO OUTSIDE & TOUCH GRASS GO OUTSIDE & SMOKE GRASS GO OUTSIDE & DYE YR PUBES GREEN SO SOMEONE ELSE CAN TOUCH GRASS TAKE SPEED AND FUCKING FLOOR IT WE MUST RELEARN THE GLORY OF DYNAMISM WE MUST RELEARN THE GLORY OF SPEED 1OO Gecs - Fanged Noumena &Remix& CCRU JUNGLE RAVE ANARCOPOCALYPSE NICK GG ALLIN LAND &&SOME OF US ARE STILL MARXISTS YOU KNOW&&

Much of America looks suburban, with neighborhoods of single-family homes connected by roads to retail centers and low-rise office buildings. For the first time, government data confirm this. According to the newly released 2O17 American Housing Survey (of nearly 76,OOO households nationwide), about 52 percent of people in the United States describe their neighborhood as suburban

Cockaigne or Cockayne (/kɒˈkeɪn/) is a land of plenty in medieval myth, an imaginary place of extreme luxury and ease where physical comforts and pleasures are always immediately at hand and where the harshness of medieval peasant life does not exist.[1]

YES I SMOKE CRACK

HORSEPLAY = SLAYPHORE = HORSEY PAL = SLAP YR HOE = RAOH YELPS

Is gematria haram? - Quora Quora https://www.quora.com › Is-gematria-haram No human can intercede with God for the soul of another human being. God's scriptures contain the exact roadmap of how to live a happy, secure life, and it is … 2 answers · 1 vote: Salam, did you mean gematria? See fatwa:

Being something of an economic fundamentalist, I've been quite blind to the fact democratic politics - along with commerce and technoscience - involves a massive numerization of social processes. Quite apart from the usual arguments for democracy, there is a 'case for democratization' proceeding entirely from the promotion of qabbalistic cultural decoding.

In striking contrast to every other political arrangement evidenced in history, democracy numerizes power, subordinating authority to number, with would-be dominant ideas compelled to legitimate themselves in terms of quantitative 'ratings' of approval. The incomprehensible complexity of erotic 1O-K readings the social whole is subjectively appropriated through simple numerical indices - with percentages overwhelmingly predominant. The individual as democratic 'unit' thus functions the contemporary world disorder (what CNN was for Baurdrillard and pomo fuzz-death of the Oddubbian universe back in the 9O's)

THE LEGEND OF DIAPER HORSE

Fold out this page along the dotted line and make your own manifesto!

THE LEGEND OF DIAPER HORSE

[idle-skull]

Retribution and Something More

Lark: The Huntsman of Nostramo

Konrad Curze x OC

AN: Warning there is some making out in this, you have been warned

From beyond the metal exterior of the Nightlord flag ship the celestial expanse laid still. The bright white stars where few and far between, and dotted the black void like pin pricks.

Lark stood on a high up catwalk that overlooked the ship’s loading bay; His back was to the railing and his eyes where fixed on the distant lights that shone from beyond a large, reinforced window. Every few minutes he took a drag from a cigarette that he held in his left hand.

It was just past 3 A.M, or what should have been 3 A.M if they hadn’t been in space, and he was feeling restless. Thoughts buzzed around in Lark’s head, many, many thoughts. He had been doing fine before, but now he didn’t know—, he didn’t even know WHY he felt this way.

Whether it was the crushing existential dread of the endless night surrounding him, or the things he had overheard and felt whilst passing a gaggle of Astartes earlier that day. Maybe both. Even now the abyss called to him, and he was fighting the urge to just throw himself into it’s blanket of darkness.

Click The tap of a long, pointed nail on one of his horns brought his attention back to the real world.

“Must you”? Lark asked, turning his attention to NightHaunter. The primarch shrugged, rolling his shoulders and standing up straight for a moment in a rare display, “Yes”.

“No”, Lark rolled his eyes and retorted.

“Nothing else worked”, NightHaunter answered, “You where deep in thought… surprising, really, you’re usually more aware of your surroundings”. Lark sighed, taking another drag of his cigarette, “About as surprising that you didn’t take extra time on your excursion”.

“You shouldn’t smoke”, Nighthaunter said, changing the subject and plucking the cigarette from between Lark’s fingers and putting it out on his own cloak. The short man only chuckled in response, “Well aren’t you the fun police today”?

“The what”? Nighthaunter asked, “Hm, never mind. Have more respect”, he added with a hum.

“It won’t kill me,” Lark hissed, “and what’s it to you anyway”?

“Look at me Lark”, He knelt down to Lark’s height and grabbed his face with one hand, thumb and fingers pressed against the short man’s cheeks. Lark wrinkled his nose and glared at him.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself”, Nighthaunter said sternly, his black eyes where wide and full of what Lark could only assume was an attempt at intimidation; Whatever emotion that would be called.

“Tch”, he shook loose from the primarch’s grasp, “Like you care. After all you can’t even control your own astartes to keep their grubby little hands and filthy knives off me”. Nighthaunter looked at him inquisitively.

“What do you mean,” he asked slowly, methodically, his eyes relaxed but still held the same feeling they had before. Lark scoffed, “You really don’t know”?

“No”, Nighthaunter shook his head.

Lark slowly pulled up his shirt, -one of those awful, black, cotton turtlenecks that marked him as a servant-, revealing a long gouge running from his hip to the center of his chest.

It was mostly healed, and certainly no where near lethal for a perpetual, but it still had a raw, red, painful look to it.

“Yeah your boys did this to me,” Lark started, “Y’know why? Just because they could”. Nighthaunter sighed, looked at the long, red wound for a moment and carefully plucked the short man’s shirt back down with a single finger.

“I’ll take care of it”, he says, standing up from his kneeling position and taking a step to leave, but before he does so he turns to Lark, “Go to my chambers, we’ll speak more or this when I’ve dealt with the perpetrators”.

Lark doesn’t argue.

~*~

The room Lark found himself in was cluttered, dark, and smelled of iron and death. It always had.

The few bookshelves that stood against one of the walls where crooked, the wood having been warped by time.

The walls themselves where lined with odd amalgamations of bone and skin, some if not most probably human. Nighthaunter doesn’t know how art works, Lark thought.

Yet he sat perfectly still on a stained couch that was far to large for him, waiting for the Lord Primarch to turn up.

Suddenly the double clicks of a door opening and closing caught his attention, and he turned his face toward the entrance of the grimy chamber. Nighthaunter stood still, staring back, before walking up and placing something on the decaying coffee table that stood next to the couch.

The wet thud gave away all the information Lark needed to know.

“They shouldn’t be bothering you anymore…”, The primarch spoke, taking a seat next to the smaller man, “As proof”, he gestured at the item on the table. Lark swallowed, trying not to look over at it, “That’s… That’s a head”. Nighthaunter frowned.

“Are you displeased”? He asked, cocking his head to the side slightly, his eyes seeming to absorb even more light from the already dimly lit room. Lark looked up at him, meeting his eyes “you brought me a head”!

“Do you want more….”? He inquired, starting to get up. Lark reflexively grabbed his arm as he did so, “No I—“. Nighthaunter looked at him, and then looked at his hand awkwardly trying to grasp his arm, “Lark”, he said, and sat back down.

“What”? Lark huffed, and retracted his hand from the primarch’s arm. Nighthaunter hummed, “Nothing… You’re just like a little songbird, always chattering and—“

“Don’t call me that,” He snapped, and glared up at Nighthaunter, “You’re always treating me different than everybody else, better, even. Why? After everything I’ve done and said to you, too. Aren’t I disrespectful”?

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, and Lark could practically feel a chill limb up his spine.

“You don’t fear me,” Nighthaunter said giving what Lark could only presume was a smile, the corners of his lips tilted up and he exposed the top row of his sharp, disorganized teeth, “And I like that about you. You’re much more brave than you think”.

Lark stared at him, “And”?

“And”? Nighthaunter echoed, “Maybe I’m still figuring out a way to break you. Maybe I haven’t decided how I’m going to punish you for your transgressions yet”, he leaned in as he spoke, his pitch black eyes betraying nothing of his intent unlike they had before.

Lark swallowed a breath, his pointed ears pricked up, his heart raced and he could feel his body getting hot. He knew that he was showing too much emotion, far too much fear; Or maybe it was excitement? He couldn’t tell anymore.

The primarch came closer and ran a long nailed finger across the line of Lark’s neck, and rested his large hand on his shoulder. He then brought his face to the smaller man’s ear, and for a moment everything seemed to stop.

“I’m just fucking with you”, Nighthaunter whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear before he drew away once more.

Lark yelped, he didn’t even realize he made the sound until he met the primarch’s eyes and he saw his interest peak.

“Something does get to you after all”, Nighthaunter said seeming to ponder his next words carefully, “That does make you all the more… Enticing, I think”. He felt like he was gonna shrivel up and die from that statement alone, “Oh ew, please don’t say it like that”, Lark wrinkled his nose as he spoke, a flush spreading across his face.

“Then let me show you…”

Before Lark knew it Nighthaunter had leaned in and planted his lips on his. The kiss was awkward at first, both parties unsure of what exactly to do; Despite this the primarch took up a heavy dominance.

Meshing their lips together in a senseless manner soon became a steady rhythm, however. They became very close then.

Though separating for a moment, they quickly and wordlessly inter-tangled again.

Despite his otherwise greasy state, Lark found that Nighthaunter didn’t taste as bad as he had expected, like the iron-y taste of blood; Or maybe, he just liked him a lot more than he had previously been able to admit to himself.

As he intertwined his fingers in the primarch’s long, oily hair Lark felt Nighthaunter pull him onto his lap, carefully placing him on one of his thighs. He held onto his hips and waist and kept him firmly planted against his leg as they kissed.

With each passing minute their interaction deepened. Their kisses became sloppy and wet and escalated to what seemed to be a climax.

After a few more minutes they separated, both breathing heavily from the lack of air. Lark never thought he’d last as long as a primarch in a kissing competition, but here he was.

“Lark…”, Nighthaunter half moaned, still catching his breath, “We should do this a lot more often”. Lark nodded, running a sticky, sweaty hand through his hair, “Yeah,” adding half heartedly, “So what does this make me now, am I still your servant or”?

“Quiet”, He shushed him, “You where never ‘just a servant’ to me, I would have made that very clear by now if you where”.

“Thank you….”, Lark started, but stopped, not knowing what to say.

“Don’t thank me”, Nighthaunter said leaning close to Lark, adding “you’re mine now”, and gently biting the side of his jawline. Lark awkwardly moved his face away from the primarch’s before settling down once more.

“I wasn’t before”? He asked, his soft, pointed ears standing on end in surprise. Nighthaunter chuckled, “Yes… but now it’s in a much different way”.

“I guess”, He sighed and carefully rested his head on Nighthaunter’s shoulder. He was surprisingly warm the more Lark thought about it, it felt good.

“You’re being oddly obedient”, The primarch sounded a bit shocked for a moment, even a bit concerned. The smaller man shrugged.

“Don’t get used to it”, Lark hummed, and closed his eyes. Nighthaunter carefully wrapped an arm around him, “I won’t…”

The two sat in silence from there on out, eventually both drifting off into a surprisingly eventless rest.

[fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper]

This is gonna sound messed up (I understand if you don’t wanna do it, you don’t have to) but I’d love to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC that’s just over everything. They keep a blank expression, not even phased by the monsters and magic in the Devildom, doesn’t care about the threats they get from demons around them (Brothers included), and even encourages them to kill them since they don’t really have anything to look forward to in life. When asked why they’re like this, MC would shrug and say “Not like anyone’s gonna care or miss me. I’m still not safe here 😐 *recalls how often they were threatened/nearly killed by the brothers*”

Other examples are like:

Lucifer: That could’ve killed you! *was pissed*

MC: I know, why did you think I did it? 😶

Belphagor:*is mad at MC*

MC: Go ahead and kill me again. Make sure I stay dead this time ☺️

Firstly, I wanna say sorry for taking so long with your request. Secondly, I hope I did justice to what you were wanting!

GN MC THAT'S DONE WITH EVERYTHING SCENARIOS WITH BROTHERS

Trigger warning: Suicide idealization, death cravings

Usual expectations would have been a bigger emotional response, a predictable reaction in astonishment and disbelief, or a suddenly broadened mindset that could range from stupefaction to incredulity to consternation based on the revelations that there actually was a heaven and hell, or close enough to what human concepts have conjured up in equivalent terms to the Celestial Realm and Devildom, but you were just an exhausted human that got unapologetically pulled into this transfer student program thing.

Maybe living with demons could have some benefits though.

Mammon:

-Mammon had left you alone outside in the courtyard of the school while he ran back inside, promising to be back in a few minutes, claiming to have forgotten something or another.

-That was fifteen minutes ago.

-It's not like you had any plans for anything special, but the long wait was gradually chipping away at your patience. You glanced at the time on your D.D.D. before pocketing the device. You were giving him a few more minutes, but then you were going home on your own

-As you loitered next to the doorway you lackadaisically watched the passing demons as they came and went, some grouping together to chat around the entrance

-You weren't paying attention to anything in particular as you absentmindedly looked around, but you noticed suspicious glances when you would turn your eyes to the doorway for Mammon

-A nearby group of demons that had clustered together were talking in hushed tones with harsh cackles

-You had a suspicion that you might be a topic, but you chose to ignore them and their pitched laughter that fell just as quickly as it erupted. It wasn't a concern to you what they were discussing.

-Patience finally expired, you moved away from your waiting spot against the wall to leave when you saw a trio of demons separate from the group that had been stealing looks at you earlier

-They encircled you and blocked your way. The courtyard seemed to quickly fall quiet as the demons smiled nastily and began making jeers

-"Where's your whipped bodyguard, human?"

-"Mammon probably bounced, because there's no incentive for him to stick around if there's no money involved."

-Something about that quip was funny to the demons, but it didn't strike a cord with you, so you remained mute as they laughed

-Something about your indifference or lack of reaction to their intimidation must have annoyed the one to your left a bit too much, because he moved towards you aggressively, his smile a snarling frown. A sudden blur behind him caught his arm that had begun the motions of a punch and jerked him backwards, causing him to stagger and fall

-Mammon immediately placed himself between you and the other two demons. His presence emitted a threat more awe-inspiring than these chump change demons could have hoped to muster, and they quickly retreated to their clique that dispersed in a hurry

-Mammon, after watching the demons scurry away, turned to you and started mother-henning and making comments about how you should have called him and chastising you for letting yourself get into that mess.

-You shrugged off his hands and began your way to the courtyard's exit, leaving a perturbed Mammon to trail after you, fussing at you to care a bit more about the situation.

-"You're actin' like you're totally unphased! Are ya wantin' a death wish or something?"

-"I was just doing what you told me about dying if you couldn't save me."

Beelzebub (and Asmo):

-You had developed a mean habit when you hung around Beel.

-You would pick food off of his plate when he would sit next to you, teasing him that a little missing wouldn't hurt him. You would also freely browse through his bag of favorite sweets and eat them in full view of him.

-It was fun tempting him to try something against the puny human that kept stealing his food, and you could see the growing frustration. It was apparent in his eyes, in the way he watched you when you came around if food was in his presence.

-You knew at some point Beel would finally reach his limits and go off, considering what had happened when Mammon had eaten his custard, but you hadn't expected it to be on an occasion you hadn't prompted anything.

-It was during afternoon when you had entered the kitchen you saw Asmo leaning against the counter, eating from a container that looked suspiciously familiar. It was a pudding cup that had Madame Scream's logo on the lid. You noticed on the side a warning was written: "You touch it, you die."

-That was definitely a snack Beel had purchased, and Asmo was eating it without any awareness

-Beel came into the kitchen shortly after you, making a beeline for the refrigerator. He began rummaging through the contents on the shelves and in the drawers

-Asmo and you quietly watched Beel as he searched through the fridge and freezer before Asmo asked what he was looking for.

-"A pudding I bought from Madame Scream's. It was from a batch that they're not selling anymore for a while. It was the last one."

-You saw Asmo's face go through a series of emotions as he connected the dots, dreaded uncertainty to fearful realization to a timorous epiphany. He shot you a nervous look before he quietly shuffled to the nearby trash can

-You glanced at the mostly empty cup as Asmo tried to escape the kitchen, but he froze in his steps when Beel slammed the fridge door closed, resulting in you both jumping in surprise. You were impressed that you didn't hear a loud clatter of stuff breaking from the force.

-"It's not in there."

-You could hear the gears turning in Asmo's head as he tried to think of an excuse while looking like a deer in headlights. It was painfully obvious that Asmo was guilty.

-Beel turned away from the fridge and his gaze shifted between Asmo, the culprit, and you, the heckling human. Beel inevitably decided to question Asmo first, taking his focus off you. Your eyes flicked to the trash can and you swiped up the pudding container.

-You could hear Asmo as he began to desperately stutter out incomplete excuses as Beel heatedly interrogated him.

-"Beel!"

-Asmo and Beel turned their attention to you as you held up the cup. You unapologetically admitted you ate it. You also confessed you knew it had been Beel's because of the warning, but you still ate it regardless.

-Beel's face darkened, so much rage emanating from him that you swear you coulda seen vapors wafting around his body. Asmo had backed away from Beel. You clutched the pudding cup hard enough to crumple it as you anticipated for the outburst, eager and fearful.

-Except nothing like that happened. Beel let out a deep sigh that seemed to release the growing emotions, and he deflated, his shoulders drooping and an almost hurt expression visible.

-Beel mumbled something that you couldn't quite catch, maybe an apology to Asmo, and then left the kitchen, hungry and disheartened.

-Asmo blinked in amazement at the doorway before he was at you side, happily enveloping you into a too tight hug. He began gushing his gratitude and praising you in compliments for your selflessness, but you felt a disappointed void in your chest.

-"That's not what I had been hoping for."

-Asmo, misunderstanding your statement, eagerly dropped an invitation to his room later so he could thank you properly, but you'd rather he just eat your heart instead.

Belphegor:

-There was something in the atmosphere that would always change if Belphie was around

-You could feel the curious sensation when you passed in the hallways and the stairs or if the only people left in a room were you two

-The air would shift to an awkward strained feeling or something would be just on the brink of uneasy

-Personal boundaries were stiffly maintained, glances were ungraciously hidden, any exchange of words were short and tense, like something would fracture if the wrong action was done or if there was hidden offense just a syllable away

-The uncomfortable undertones were logically sensible, considering your past circumstances with Belphie

-Except...

-This behavior was only demonstrated from Belphie. You were perfectly neutral to the outcome of what he had done to you, maybe a little bummed if you had to silently confess.

-Since his murderous outburst, Belphie had made a few attempts at making amendments with you

-You didn't see a fault that needed to be forgiven, so you ignored them. If anything, Belphie should be apologizing for accomplishing to kill you but failing at keeping you deceased.

-Whenever you thought back to that dead version of yourself, broken and limp, cradled in Mammon's lap, you felt a tingle of jealousy, like you had been cheated of something.

-You had been lost in an immersion with a book you had borrowed from Satan when a weight on the other side of the couch brought you back to cognizance. You saw from your peripheral vision that it was Belphie, clutching his pillow that he always carried around

-He fiddled with the tassel, his stare unfocused as he seemed to be thinking of how to begin yet another discussion that you weren't interested in, mainly because you assumed he would try to slip another apology in at some point

-You sighed, closed your book, and shifted your focus to Belphie, who was staring at you with his usual lazy stare but with an uncertain curiosity. Normally, he was the first to initiate conversations, but you were over this monotonous exchange.

-You were going to put an end to it.

-You leaned forward, invading the space bubble that Belphie had been careful to keep around you, and he pushed himself into the cushion of the couch, uncomfortable by your sudden approach.

-"If you feel so bad for your attempt at murdering me, you should skip the apologies and just kill me again. This time make sure I stay dead."

Leviathan:

-Levi was grumbling as he was sorting his prized possessions into piles of keep, trade in, sell, or give away, while you toiled away in the background just organizing, wondering why you had to be involved in helping clean his room

-Levi had stormed up to you, agitated and sniffling, and started a rant about how Lucifer just doesn't understand how hard it is for him to choose between his precious cherishables.

-Lucifer had apparently made an ultimatum with Levi that it was time to sort through his collection of games, manga, collectible figures, and anything else that he had, or he would come in and do it himself

-He had begged you to let him store some of his items in your room, just for a little while, just until Lucifer got off his case, but you immediately shot him down. You weren't going to be pulled into whatever trouble waited for Levi down the road.

-That had been your intentions in the beginning, anyway. Levi just wouldn't stop pestering and pleading with you, so you offered to help him sort through his stuff to put an end to it.

-You were just listening to him complain about how no one understands the hardships of being an otaku and the commitments that came with the lifestyle. You mindlessly muttered an "Mhmm" or "Yeah" on occasion to avoid assumptions you were ignoring him and let him prattle on.

-Your legs had gone numb from your sitting position, so you stretched them out, which resulted in an urge to stretch your whole body. You leaned back and let yourself drop backwards, bored because Levi was only placing things in the keep pile.

-You had thought your back was going to make contact with the cool floor, except it hadn't. Instead you felt a sharp stab and something uncomfortable shortening your fall. The sudden and unexpected loud crinkling noises that caused your instincts to shoot you back up and Levi to snap his head around in your direction were good indicators that you had accidentally reclined on the pile you had accumulated behind you that Levi handed to you to reconsider later.

-Some boxes were very noticeably bent and crumpled, the plastic display windows creased and wrinkled from enduring your full weight and being crushed. The dolls inside the boxes were alright for the most part, the top ones being the most disturbed.

-As you were trying to separate the damaged boxes and the boxes that made it out unscathed from your carelessness, you felt an intimidating presence approach from behind.

-The dark energy emitted was spine-chilling, threatening, and familiar. You peeked over your shoulder to see Levi, silent but radiating an aura of anger that could drown you. He towered over you in his demon form, his tail lashing from side to side.

-Levi snatched the box of a Seraphina figurine out of your hand and began inspecting it. The plastic window was beyond savable and the box frame was squished and torn around the corners. The figurine was a little skewered from her original spot, held in place by twist ties, but was otherwise just fine.

-"This was the limited edition of Seraphina in an actual seraphim-inspired outfit! The box was even designed to match her, so it was like a set! It's completely ruined now!"

-Levi grabbed another dented package with a Ruri-chan figurine inside and ranted about how it was another limited edition and very rare exclusive item because it had been based off a failed spinoff of The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl.

-You had practically been shoved aside as Levi rummaged through the pile, angrily talking to himself about how he shouldn't have trusted a normie with his precious possessions, lamenting at the loss in value (if he had decided to part with them), and apologizing to the figurines.

-"They're just dolls. There's no reason to be so upset, Levi."

-His hand abruptly snapped out and sharply jerked you forward. An electrifying sensation shot down your spine as Levi pierced his eyes into yours. A fury was burning hot in them.

-You were forcibly pulled to your feet as Levi stood, tugging you unceremoniously to his bedroom door. He shoved you out and his door cracked with a loud slam.

-You stood in the hallway, dazed and dumbfounded. The jarring rise of emotions settled flatly in your stomach. After a moment, you hummed disappointedly. You had thought for sure Levi would have done something different.

Lucifer (and Satan):

-"What did you expect to gain from your actions?"

-You opened your mouth to answer, but Lucifer held his hand up to silence you.

-"He would have killed you. Did you even think of what the outcome could have done to Diavolo or the entire transfer student program? You are completely irresponsible."

-You tried to voice your opinion, but Lucifer shot a glance that shut your mouth permanently. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

-You reclined back on the sofa and watched Lucifer as he collected himself to continue on.

-You should have known better, and you did, but the temptations to provoke Satan were too much to ignore. Insulting him, taking Belphie's suggestions to annoy Satan to the next level, "borrowing" books from his room, leaving the library table a disorganized mess, comparing him to Lucifer when you saw openings.

-It was that last one that finally broke Satan enough. He had tried to make you put away the books you had gotten out, you said you didn't have to listen to him, he mentioned something about learning manners and your place, you commented he sounded like Lucifer and egged him on after he warned you to stop.

-Satan had exploded into a fit. To be honest, you underestimated the severity of his anger.

-You had blinked and Satan had transformed, you had inhaled and Satan had cut off your air flow. The grip on your throat had been tight and excruciating to the point of numbness. You tried to pry his hands away on reflex, but he had simply applied more strength to his hold.

-You remember feeling deprived of sensation throughout your body as blackness creeped into your vision.

-A distant, heavy thud, muted voices behind a thick veil, and the perception of falling were the last remnants you could recall before waking up in Lucifer's room

"You obviously don't care about your own well-being. I didn't think it was necessary to employ a babysitter to you at home as well, but I don't think any of my brothers will be inclined to watch over you. Why can't you just behave and follow the rules set in place to keep you safe?"

-You locked your eyes with Lucifer and casually shrugged. "I have a death wish."

If you have any headcanons that you want me to write, please send them my way! I enjoy writing them out. NSFW is okay, but please know I might not do it. ❤️

[nejibaby]

Afterglow

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Y/N

Summary: Without Ace, your nights are back to being long, dark, and empty. But when you finally reunite, Ace refuses to just be your Daylight.

Daylight - Part 1 | Afterglow - Part 2

Word Count: 4.3k (my hands slipped, I’m so sorry)

Loosely based on: Taylor Swift’s Lover album (but mostly about the songs Daylight and Afterglow)

A/N: I really think Whitebeard is a great father, yk? So I see him as someone who you can always seek and rely on. He looks tough (and he’s actually tough), but he’s soft too! And Ace too, in that respect is similar to WB. I really believe he’ll be such a good boyfriend 🥺 Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this so much! Thank you to everyone who read this, I love yall 🥰

<Teach doesn’t exist to me, I hate him, so I guess this is noncanon? Also, there’s this tiny spoiler, just a warning.>

Sailing by yourself in a boat for one reminds you how vast the sea actually is. With the rowdy Whitebeard pirates, sometimes the sea, no, the world, seems a lot smaller, a lot more manageable, but alone, it feels so massive it’s almost frightening.

It’s easy to get lost, except there’s no such concept like that for someone like you who doesn’t have a destination to go to in mind. Quite simply, you’re wandering, but not lost.

You drift from one island to another. Your initial intention is to get as far away as possible from the crew. Now that that’s achieved, you’re unsure of what to do next.

You allow yourself to observe and to experience some sort of normalcy at the islands you dock at. It’s a good thing that you don’t really stand out so no one suspects you’re a wanted pirate.

Walking down the streets of random towns, you’re reminded of how lonely being a Celestial Dragon was. No one wants to interact with a World Noble, afraid of the consequences if they’re angered. Things changed drastically when you became a pirate though. People don’t shy away that much with pirates in certain places. They interact with you, albeit hesitantly sometimes. Nevertheless, you felt so free and happy.

Now, you’re still a pirate, as marked by Whitebeard’s infamous tattoo. But with the unsuspecting townspeople and the lack of the presence of a crew, you don’t feel like one. Somehow it makes you feel empty.

The void is immeasurable. Despite it being unbounded, you’re sure that a single person can fill that emptiness: Portgas D. Ace.

But there are oceans separating you from Ace— a distance that you put. With the space between you, there’s silence in your voyage, however, it’s quite mystifying how every island you reach seems to scream his name.

There’s an island where you’ve docked at that’s snowing all year long. It brought back memories of when you were fairly new to the Whitebeard Pirates and had landed on a similar island. Back then you’ve worn a coat as you disembarked Moby Dick, however, the cold continued to seep through your layers of clothing. You couldn’t handle extreme temperatures that well but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it so you continued to walk alongside the crew to scout the area. The thing was you may have been terrible at hiding it because Ace noticed the way your body was shivering and your teeth chattering. You were only acquaintances back then but he went to your side and striked a conversation with you. You didn’t understand why you became comfortable when he approached you all of a sudden, but then later that night you realized that he used his devil fruit abilities to warm you up.

At one island with a bustling town, there’s this restaurant that serves a variety of meat. You’re reminded of Ace and his bottomless pit of a stomach, and of his narcoleptic episodes while eating. He has a tendency of eating and then running, and the first few times he did it with you had you reeling. When you’ve finally realized that he’s never going to change, you start to keep a pouch of gold coins with you, reserved for paying for the food he eats. You leave it on the table just as Ace pulls you to run, and he has no idea about it. Owners or servers at the restaurants would still follow you out, but not to berate the both of you for not paying but to return the extra gold coins because you pay too much. Like usual though, Ace pretends not to hear them and they never got to catch up with you and Ace.

On another island, there’s a huge wild boar thrice the size of a human. It reminded you of the time you got so excited to explore an island that you speedily ran towards the forest alone, only to be met by a wild boar. The size of the boar stunned you and its glare kept you frozen in fear. A loud scream escaped your lips when it lunged at you, except the impact never came. When you’ve gathered your bearings, the wild boar was dead and… cooked, courtesy of Ace’s devil fruit abilities. He saved you, but he played it off as if he had his eyes on the wild boar since the beginning “to hunt it down.”

The current island you’re at is in famine. As soon as you docked at their port, a group of men has drawn their swords at you. For a moment, you thought they were bounty hunters so you grabbed your daggers and took a defensive stance. However, from the way they keep looking back and forth to you and your boat, and from hearing the faint sound of their stomach grumbling, you can tell they aren’t. Behind some trees, you can see the heads of some children peeking with worried yet hopeful looks on their faces.

Slowly, you raise your hands up in surrender, dropping your daggers in the process. You can’t turn your back on them — figuratively and literally — so you walk backwards towards your boat. The men look at you curiously but they don’t ever lower their swords.

In a quick motion, you grab a bag containing all of your food supply and throw it at them. One of the men catches it. “You can have them. It isn’t much, but that’s all I have.”

The man who was able to catch the bag carefully opens it and sees food. He almost cries at the sight of it. The rest of the men lowers the sword after you offer no sign of aggression. They start calling the other citizens of the area afterwards.

The children are the first to come running towards the men — all of them conveying excitement. You couldn’t tell how long they haven’t eaten but judging from how thin they are, it has got to be quite some time.

A small girl stumbles and falls near you and you quickly come to her aid. There isn’t much damage, just a scraped knee so you carefully patched her up.

“Thank you,” she gives you a toothy smile and then starts heading to the men who are distributing the food.

She comes back a moment later, arms outstretched to hand an apple to you. “For you,” she says.

Something blossoms in your heart because of her sweetness. “Thank you, but it’s fine, you can have it,”

She doesn’t object but then she hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much.”

Surprisingly, even on an island like this, you’re reminded of Ace. You remember his story about coming to Wano and meeting a child named “Tama” who seemed to be as charming as the child you helped and is under the same fortune.

Now that your mind has drifted to thoughts of Ace, you didn’t want to think of anything else. Even as the people gather around you to offer their thanks, and even as they usher you to a bonfire to celebrate for the food to eat, the thoughts of him linger in your head.

And just like in all the previous islands you came to, you wish he’s here with you too.

There’s longing in your heart, but there’s also something else— something pleasant that you can’t quite describe— and you attribute it to the gratitude of the people.

The mother of the child you helped, Sito, offers their spare room for you to take and you graciously accept. Soft snores almost immediately fill your ears after a few minutes of them bidding you good night.

The longer you stay awake, however, the pleasant feeling you felt a while ago starts to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

You’ve always criticized yourself for not being able to do more when you were still a Celestial Dragon but now that you did something good, you start to feel selfish for doing it because it makes you feel better about yourself.

It’s at times like this that you seek Pops. There’s a sudden urge to hear his voice and his thoughts. So you grab your Den Den Mushi, but you hesitate.

You’ve lost track of the days since you left Moby Dick. And in that time frame, you never once called Pops. Although you didn’t really promise to call, maybe he was expecting you to, especially since you know he wouldn’t do it first.

You sigh. Maybe this call is long overdue after all.

You step outside the house and start to contact Pops using the Den Den Mushi. It only rings once and then it’s answered, almost as if Pops was waiting by the Den Den Mushi. The thought brings a smile to your face. “Pops—”

“Why on earth are you only calling now?!” His angry tone welcomes you.

“I’m so—”

“Is that Y/N?!” Marco interrupts. Ah, how could you have forgotten? It’s at this time that Marco reports to Pops. “We’re so worried about you -yoi!”

You can hear sounds of struggling on the line and then there’s a loud smack followed by an even louder crash. There’s a moment of silence which makes you wonder what’s going on in the ship.

“Why didn’t you call earlier?!” Pops’ voice booms. “If you’re going to leave a Den Den Mushi, I’m going to expect your reports but I received none of that.”

“I’m sorry Pops. I have no excuse,” you sheepishly say.

“Everyone’s worried about you,” he pauses but then his voice rings louder once again, “Some are even outside my room trying to listen in on our conversation. But if they know better, they should leave us alone.” The sound of rushing footsteps could be heard in the background as Pops finishes his sentence.

You chuckle, imagining the crew eavesdropping. “How are you Pops?”

“I’m doing fine.”

“How’s everyone? How’s… uhm… Ace?”

“Everyone’s just missing you. You didn’t say goodbye after all,” he says. “I put Ace on a mission because he won’t stop pestering me about you. He won’t come back in a couple of days.”

“Oh.”

“He misses you a lot,” he sighs. “He strides to me everyday to demand your whereabouts. Each time I wouldn’t tell him but he never learns. Vista says he’s on his 56th attempt the other day.”

The brief image of Ace that your mind comes up with brings a small smile to your face.

“When are you coming back?” Whitebeard breaks your reverie.

“Ah, I’m not sure yet… It might take a while.”

He hums. “So how are you? Have you been eating well?”

“I’m doing fine, Pops. No one’s been coming after me yet so everything’s going well,” you respond. “But… Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“There’s this island with people who haven’t eaten in so long so I gave them everything I have.” There’s a loud growl coming from Pops so you immediately continue your speech before he could scold you for doing such a thing. “I feel really good about what I did as they thanked me. But then the longer I thought about it, I started feeling ashamed because... wasn’t it selfish since I did it to make me feel better about myself? Then I started to wonder if it was wrong to do good things just because I wanted to be absolved of my parents’ sins. Was I wrong in doing this, Pops?”

“No, you did the right thing.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you’re not an inherently bad person for getting paid in gratitude.”

“But…”

“Making yourself happy by making other people happy is how it’s meant to work. If one of your key motives to doing good things is to feel good, then you’re still doing something good and there’s nothing shameful about that.”

Hearing his words puts you at ease. You’re glad you called him. “Thank you, Pops. I’m sorry for worrying everyone there and for disrupting Marco’s report. I promise I’ll call more often from now on.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too. Where will you be headed next?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just going where the sea leads me.”

“Be careful.”

“You too, Pops,” and with that, you bid your goodbye and hang up.

By morning, you start preparing your things to leave. You didn’t want to stay for too long because you didn’t want to consume even a portion of the small amount of food they have.

Sito offers you to stay another night, worried that it would be uncomfortable to sleep on a boat. “You can stay one more day. There’s still enough food for us to share.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to impose,” you decline. “But do you mind if I ask what happened here?”

There’s sadness in her eyes, it was easy to tell the memory pained her, but she tells you everything anyway. “This island is one of the few lawless areas in the world, hence, it’s a place where pirates would dock at. A group of men once docked here and kidnapped the leaders of our town. They were sold off to be slaves, because apparently the Nobles like to enslave people of power…” Her words start to fade on you upon the mention of the World Nobles.

Anger flares up in your system immediately. How low can the Celestial Dragons go? It’s sickening to think that you share the same blood as them. It’s because of this revelation that something becomes clear in your mind.

Ever since leaving Moby Dick, you’re just wandering aimlessly. But after hearing Sito talk about this island, you’re finally sure of what your destination should be.

Sabaody Archipelago.

Specifically, the Human Auctioning House.

From the sudden fury that overwhelms you, not even the fear of being within arm’s reach of the Marines, and possibly dying, could stop you from going there.

It’s reckless and foolish, but isn’t this the reason you left Moby Dick that night— to face your nightmares instead of running away from them?

You listen politely as Sito explains everything else but her words enter and leave your ears without you having to comprehend them. Fortunately, she doesn’t notice your inattentiveness, probably because she wants to pour her frustrations out to a stranger.

You offer your sympathies to her and promise her you’d come back with your crew and help them some more. It’s a simple promise yet for someone who hasn’t been offered help for so long, it means a lot, enough to even bring tears to her eyes. And just like that, you leave.

There are two more islands to stop at before you reach Sabaody Archipelago. You gather provisions on one island and buy explosives on the other.

The only thing you’re sure you can actually do alone is to blow up the Human Auctioning House. Facing the World Nobles is for another time, unfortunately. As for the Marines, well… You’d worry about that if they indeed come. You know you’d be able to handle them as long as they don’t send an Admiral after you.

The thing that worries you the most, however, is Pops’ reaction once you let him know of your plan. While you can always just not tell him, it feels wrong, and you promised you’d report to him, after all. And it’s hard for you to admit, but you secretly want to be saved in case your plan goes askew. That, and well, you still want to make up with Ace, may it be just strictly as friends, but preferably as lovers.

You decide to call once you’re about to set sail towards Sabaody Archipelago. You’re sitting in the middle of your boat, still anchored at the port when you told Pops your plan. And as expected, he’s mad.

He demands you to go back to the crew immediately. “Captain’s orders,” he says. But after a few moments, he retracts his words and says, “Your father’s orders.” You feel the weight of his words when he said that and you almost concede. But the faces of the slaves your family had flashes into your mind and it solidifies your decision.

Interestingly, despite the weeks you have spent away from the crew, their ship is nearer to you than anticipated. As confirmed by Pops himself when he angrily said, “Enough! I’m sending Ace to get you! Two or three days is enough for him to catch up with you.”

But quite frankly, that’s also enough time to execute your plan. And if the odds are in your favor, then Ace might just come in time for your escape.

Arriving at Sabaody Archipelago, you keep your face hidden underneath the hood of your cloak. It’s normal for pirates to walk around the place without having to hide their identities, but it’s a luxury you can’t afford. If someone catches wind that you’re here and reports it, the Cipher Pol just might come and capture you before you can even execute your plan. That just won’t do. So on the first day of your arrival, you only scout the area of the Human Auctioning House and retreat back to the inn you stay at.

You carry out your plan on the next day. You place a bomb where the side of the stage is supposed to be. It’s a distraction so people inside would leave the premises. The plan is to find the keys and free the slaves while the people are panicking from the explosion. Then eliminate the head of the place, Mr. Disco, and finally blow the place apart. It sounds simple but with you having to do all the work, you know it isn’t.

Now that you’re here, your nerves are spiking up. Arriving at the entrance of the building, you take a deep breath, your hand automatically reaching for the bracelet that Ace made you. It instantly calms you down.

It baffles you how fate works because on the very day you decide to free the slaves that are being sold off at the Human Auctioning House, Ace’s brother, Luffy — along with his crew — is at the same place to rescue their friend who was kidnapped.

Somehow even on a dangerous mission like this, there’s still something or someone who’d remind you of Ace. It makes you wonder: has he really embedded himself too deep into your life that there’s no escaping the thoughts of him? Not that you mind; the thoughts of him bring you peace, after all. But still, it’s fascinating that even in both mundane and dangerous settings, he makes himself known to you.

Upon entering the Human Auctioning House, everything happens so fast and unexpected. And quite frankly, a lot happened that wasn’t part of the plan.

Aside from finding the Straw Hat Pirates, you got yourself injured when you used your body to shield their fish man friend, Hatchi, from Saint Charlos’ gunshot. Then you confronted Saint Shalria personally despite you not planning to get involved with the Celestial Dragons. As for the slaves, it was the Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh, who actually freed them. The only things that you personally executed from your plan were Mr. Disco’s elimination and the bombing of the Human Auctioning House.

Escape is easy once the building starts to explode because the Marines would have to lessen the forces who're chasing after the pirates in order for them to successfully put out the fire. Without any Admiral on the scene yet, it’s not hard to slip away from them and/or fight them.

Even with the gunshot wound on your arm, you’re able to take down each and every one of the Marines who are chasing you. But halfway through your journey back to the grove where you left your boat at, you lose your adrenaline.

You start to feel the sharp and stinging sensation on your arm once again, yet, you couldn’t help but smile. You have gotten out alive. The slaves have been freed. With both Mr. Disco and the building gone, the Human Auctioning House will no longer be operational, or at least not yet until someone steps up. But that won’t be after a long time.

It’s a wonderful day.

You look up at the afterglow of the sunset with a serene smile. You have a feeling your nights are going to feel shorter now and less frightening than they were before.

Your peaceful moment is cut off by someone rather abruptly. You jump in surprise as someone wraps their arms around you from behind all of a sudden. “I finally caught up with you.”

Your breath hitches at the sound of the voice. “Ace? What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer your question, but he mumbles, “I’m sorry if I only came now. Pops wouldn’t tell me where you were, but I came as soon as I could.” Then he tightens his hug. “I was so scared, I thought I’d lose you…”

“Ace, I’m sorry about—”

“Hey, it’s on me, okay?” He interrupts. “I blew things out of proportion, and now you’re blue.”

You pull away from his hug to face him.

“Y-your arm! You’re bl-bleeding,” he stutters after seeing your injury.

But you pay no mind to that. “Ace… I’m really sorry about us—”

“Ssshhh, baby…” he rubs his hand on your back.

He looks at your figure carefully, focused on looking for any more bruises or wounds. When he doesn’t find anything more, he gently holds you by your waist. “Don’t blame yourself, I’m the one who burned us down, but… it’s not what I meant.

“It was all in my head, okay? It’s just that the Celestial Dragons are all grouped in my head as scums and that they’re inexcusable because… my brother was killed by a Celestial Dragon.”

A wave of guilt flows through your body, enough to weaken your knees. Before you could fall, however, Ace catches you and brings you to his chest. But this doesn’t stop you from sobbing on his chest. “I didn’t know, Ace. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that’s the thing, baby. It isn’t your fault. It wasn’t you who pulled the trigger. And… I have to admit I failed to see that at first,” he says as he hugs you tighter. “I shouldn’t have stood there frozen after you told me your story. I’m supposed to be the one who understands you...

“I’m not trying to make excuses and I’m not trying to make this about me but it’s just that… for so long I thought that I inherited the bad blood of my father, and I spent my lifetime failing to see that his sins aren’t my sins,” his voice cracks as he cries. “So when I found out about you… My mind automatically held you liable for the sins of the Nobles…

“But I talked to Pops and he straightened me up. I understand now. Our parents’ sins aren’t ours. It never was ours to begin with. So I’m sorry for blaming you for something you didn’t do…”

Ace stares at your crying form. He cups your face and sincerely says, “It’s so excruciating to see you low,” as he wipes the tears on your eyes. “I’m sorry if I hurt you…”

“It’s fine Ace, I forgive you. But…” You look directly into his eyes. “I’m at fault too,” you confess. “I was the one who left... I was so used to living like an island and isolating myself that it didn’t occur to me that I was punishing you with silence… I should’ve waited patiently for you but I ran away…”

Ace rubs your back gently and presses his forehead against yours, “I forgive you too.”

You smile in relief.

After a couple of minutes in silence, Ace tilts his head. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Remember when you said that you saw daylight after sleeping in a long, dark night?”

You give him a curious look but nodded anyway.

“Beside wishing that I was there for you sooner, it had me thinking...”

“What?”

“Uhm… The world is terrible and cruel, and no one can ever really stop the dark nights from coming.”

You frown. You don’t really understand what Ace is trying to say.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he rubs his neck while his cheeks starts to blush, “if you ever have to go through those dark nights, I wouldn’t want you to wait for daylight.

“I want to be there with you on those nights until they’re over. I don’t want to leave you when things get rough and only show up when you’re better. I know you see me as your daylight but I don’t want to be just that.”

His words warm your heart, and makes it skip a beat. “You know, Ace, there are remnants of light that linger in the sky even when the sun has long gone down and the night starts. It’s the afterglow,” you mumble.

“Yeah, but that goes away too after a while,” he frowns.

“Well, lucky for you the moon reflects the sun’s light during the night, huh?”

He grins. “Yeah, yeah. I like that. I want to be your source of light, may it be the daylight, moonlight, or the afterglow.”

A moment of silence engulfs the both of you. Under the soft afterglow of the sunset with your arms wrapped around each other, you feel at peace.

Once upon a time, you used to believe love is black and white— that it’s straightforward. It was either you love Ace or you don’t, there were no gray areas. No matter what he feels, says, or does, your love for him never ceases.

But then some other days you believed that love is burning red— that it’s full of passion, lust, and romance, much like the nights you spent entangled in the sheets with Ace.

However, right now in Ace’s arms, all you could ever think about is that love is golden. It was warmth and comfort, like what daylight brings. It was contentment and serenity too, much like the feeling of lightness one gets when seeing the afterglow of the sunset. Either way, it’s Ace who makes you feel those.

No matter what color love actually is though, for you it’s always embodied by Ace.

[storysofmyown]

Seven stages of Love Chapter 2: Philia

Summary: Ever since the Celestial War, since they all fell, Asmodeus has  dedicated himself to his sin. Not caring about anything else, but  drowning himself in the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. But not anymore,  now he cant even handle the idea of it. But, what else is there to  want? After so long of having indulged in his sin, what is there than  Asmodeus is looking for, something that will fill him, and that wont  drive him to destruction? Perhaps his brothers can help him with that. Warnings will appear in each chapter.

Trigger Warning: Momentary anger, sadness. Let me know if I overlooked anything.

Word Count: 2683

Read on Ao3

Pondering, wondering, with a strain in the heart that no other but himself could lift. Yet, he didn’t have the means to lift it. The feeling overwhelmed him to the point where he hadn’t left the house at all during an entire week. To him it was simply unthinkable to have to submit himself to the stares and the actions of the people that noticed him. To think that all this time he thought he needed nothing more. Nothing more but those meaningless kisses that brought satisfaction.

Now the simple thought of a stranger’s hand to even as much as caress his cheek without any feeling made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to be cared for. But…it had to be a very specific kind of care. One so specific he didn’t know what it was but knew he wouldn’t find it any time soon. But…what even was it that he wanted? He knew what it was called, Belphegor had enlightened that much…but he didn’t know what it was. Was there a certain definition? Was there even something that would define the exact way he was feeling, with the exact solution he needed? Perhaps, something that could define all the aspects of that craving? He didn’t know, he didn’t even know what he was looking for. So, who better to ask than Satan?

He had hundreds upon hundreds of books. Surely, he must have something that defined that intense feeling. One that gave Asmodeus some sort of clarity. That defined it beyond a feeling. Beyond a lifestyle that many searched for in their lives but can never seem to reach entirely or are satisfied with. Surely, he must have something, right? Asmodeus thought for a moment as he walked outside of his room for the very first time in a while. One of his brothers had been checking up on him from time to time. But thanks to Belphegor they didn’t stay nor bother him much. He needed time to think. And he was thankful to them for caring in any way…but right now he needed some type of answer. Or something to point him in the right direction…just anything would be helpful.

He was on his way to Satan’s room. He was determined to knock, get some books, and start some kind of research…but sometimes things don’t go the way one wishes they did. Sometimes…something makes the path that one was entrusted on, divert for just a mere second…and that’s when everything in the future changes. For just that simple misstep, for just that look in another direction and the entire path that once laid in front of one is changed, unrecognizable. It might be easier; it might be far more difficult. Perhaps it was because his mind was far quieter than it had ever been, while simultaneously making so much noise it drove him insane during the nighttime, or maybe it was the way his expression had become blank and no longer was focused in maintaining that fake smile that had become permanent on his lips. Maybe it was all of them, none, a beat, a noise, a breeze…but his path changed. And with it, his quest in search of a definition, that would set his heart at peace.

Was he stalling? Was that why he was standing in front of Leviathans door, hearing the muffled sound of his older brother laugh? If he remembered correctly, there was a new game Leviathan was looking forward this week. He remembered the older demon having mentioned it a while back. He could hear the faint sound of music through the door, it was mostly muffled, and Leviathan cheers as he won made it harder to hear. He sighed once. Starring at the door before shaking his head. He should really just focus, he needed to go to Satan’s room. Besides it’s not like Leviathan would even give him the time of the day when he was consumed by one of his games or something like that.

So, he turned around, taking a deep breath for a moment as he took a step. But…as he already knew, things don’t go as they are planned at all. A plan that was set thousands of years ago when his aching body first arrived at the Devildom. A promise to enjoy himself to the last bit. A promise he had broken the moment those doubts came to mind. After all, if he had just fallowed his promise, he wouldn’t be here, in that very moment, with those particular thoughts that made his breath caught in his throat at Leviathan’s words. A certain shout caught his attention. Leviathan had won on his game, and this prompted him to shout, to celebrate, to leap in joy and exclaim to the world some words, a specific word. Words that Asmodeus could only dream of using that lightly someday.

“YES!!!  We did it! Good work, I knew we could!!" A giggle, and then a storm. "Henry, I **** you!!”

…he had to be joking, right? He couldn’t have heard that right. He must be in a state of dream or something. Leviathan…he…he wouldn’t just throw that word around like that, and to his damn fish of all things?!

“S-seriously?!” He spoke, before knocking the door, perhaps a little too sudden and harsh since he heard Leviathan gasp, a certain ache in his knuckles that he was barely aware of.

“Sorry Lucifer, I’ll try to make less noise!” He spoke, causing Asmodeus to roll his eyes.

“I’m not Lucifer.” He simply said, a pout on his lips as he crossed his arms and waited for Leviathan to open the door.

“A-Asmodeus?!” Leviathan’s voice came out shocked, he could hear struggle as Leviathan moved inside the room, something falling and him screeching before groaning, only to open the door and look at his younger brother, a small pout on his lips. “W-wha- I mean, w-when, I just…huh?” Levi was at a loss of words as he starred down at his brother, only for Asmodeus to roll his eyes a little and go inside the room. Not caring about Leviathan’s protest on how he had not said the secret password.

He entered the room. The blues and darkness within it, meant to reflect the ocean waves and the water element which his brother controlled along with all sea creatures…only reminded him of his room for a second. It was mostly the darkness. Since that night where Belphegor comforted him, Asmodeus refused to go out, his windows permanently sealed, and the lights turned off as he refused to acknowledge himself in the mirror by the pure fear he might despise what was staring back at him. By the fear that he might look and only find the lust he had started to loath so deeply.

His eyes flew to the screen that was on, the word “Victory” could be read, a controller left on the floor as Leviathan watched him with a slight embarrassed blush on the doorway. For some reason his eyes kept scanning the room. This was possibly the thousandth time he had entered to his brothers’ room and yet, this was the first time he felt like he was in the room, and not in his own head. It was a weird sensation. Entering a place so many times, but never actually seeing it. Recognizing it, or even as simply as placing his attention in anything that was not himself. It was Leviathan’s room, and if someone asked him to identify Levi’s room and showed him pictures, he could probably tell them it was this one. But if someone asked him, to number at least 3 things of his brothers’ room he would draw a blank and just point out that he only had one mirror in his bathroom, and that occasionally he could see his reflection on the big crystal wall from the fish tank. But besides that, he…he didn’t know anything else inside the room. This included himself, and his brother.

His eyes flew to Henry, as he walked over to the small fishbowl Leviathan put him in sometimes so he was beside him when playing. He kneeled in front of it as he starred at the fish. An eyebrow raised as he replayed the words he had just heard Leviathan exclaim on passing. Such a word…were…were they supposed to mean so much? Asmodeus had just started to think about them, he had yet even to find any meaning to, yet his brother was throwing it like that to his fish? He seriously couldn’t understand it, at all. He glanced over at Leviathan who was playing with his fingers while looking a little nervous at Asmodeus intrusion on what was his room, but there was something else. It seemed like he wanted to ask something, so, for that same reason Asmo decided to stay silent for a couple more seconds and see if his brother spoke. Thankfully, he did.

“…Asmodeus” He started, and by his tone the younger demon immediately regretted having let him talk. “…are you okay? I-I mean! Y-you are always partying and in clubs and talking with s-so many people…yet we didn’t see much of you t-this week…”

That…that was something hard to answer. Was there a reason for him not to be okay? Was there a reason for him to be okay? There were doubts in his mind, questions in his heart, needs that he had not been aware of until recently. But most of all…there was…there was a void that he didn’t understand. A void he had just become aware that existed within him. Asmodeus pressed his lips together, wondering for a moment. The silence filling Leviathan with anxiety as he looked down, taking deep breaths while awaiting for an answer.

“I…” he started; eyes focused on the small fish, “…heard you say something on my way here.” Was he avoiding the question? Or was this the answer in his own way? “I was surprised that the same words Belphie muttered to comfort me you would yell them at Henry.”

“Words? What are you talking about?” He wasn’t trying to act dumb; hell knew that was Mammon’s job, but he was certainly confused. Having his brother barge into his room like this, no explanation, and suddenly ask him things like this when he had been acting off the entire week…Leviathan was worried. They were all worried.

Asmodeus thought for a moment. Why was he even here? Between the two, it was entirely possible for him to know more about those words than someone who barely left the room to get food and left the house for 3 seconds every month. The idea that Leviathan, someone that was constantly so locked away from everything and anyone, would know more about that subject even though Asmodeus had put himself out in the world time and time again…it was almost insulting.

No.

No it wasn’t insulting. It just hurt to know that the loneliness he had believed to be new, turned out to be so old that he wondered if it had always been part of him. It just to think that everything he once thought he knew of himself, had started to crumble slowly.

“Levi…h-how can you say them to an animal?” His voice was soft and low, he was sure he had spoken, but the memories of the words leaving his lips was not present. For a moment, he caught his own reflection starring at him instead of his eyes focusing on the small goldfish. And in those eyes, he saw how powerful his sadness and desperation had become…his eyes damping in tears as he looked away, refusing to let anyone see that.

Leviathan eyes went wide at his younger brothers’ words. From all the things he expected him to say, that wasn’t it. Was that…what he said before Asmodeus entered the room, was that why his brother had barged in like that? He starred at him for what felt like ages, before clearing his throat a little and taking a step close to Asmodeus. Trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Normally he would ask what he meant and why he was asking something like that, but the way Asmo looked in that moment it was like he was begging for an answer and just that. An answer, something that gave him an idea of what it all meant and what he would make out of it. Leviathan sighed, closing the door behind him before sitting down on the floor, his back to Asmo as he knew he would not be able to answer the question if he was looking at him.

“H-Henry isn’t an animal, you know?” He started, taking the controller in his hands so that it gave him something to be distracted and consumed, something to help ignore the nerves he was feeling for some reason. “H-He is there for me even when no one else is, he celebrates with me when I win. And in some way listens to me whenever I'm rambling or even feeling down... I-I know I’m an anti-social otaku that no one cares about and that barely gets out of his room, but…Henry is here with me. Henry isn’t an animal or a pet.” He paused, thinking over his words, a small smile creeping to his lips as he chuckled a bit. This all probably sounded so dumb to someone like Asmodeus but to him it was his truth. “…Henry is my friend. W-which is why...which is why I **** him...”

Levi looked at his brother, a genuine smile as his hands gripped the controller a little lighter now. Expecting to hear him laugh and talk about how ridiculous he was, thinking such a thing. But nothing came from Asmodeus side for a long minute. Instead, there was only silent as he thought about it. Trough the fish tank reflection Asmo looked past himself, something he wouldn’t even consider to do before, but now, his eyes were focused on Levi's reflection, who was looking at him. But he couldn’t find the words to answer him at all. Levi cared for Henry…because Henry was his friend. No matter how he looked at it, it was something so simple to understand, yet Asmodeus couldn’t properly comprehend what it all meant.

“…friend, huh?” He finally spoke, now looking at the small fish that seemed to be completely uninterested in Asmodeus presence. “…you can feel that way towards your friends?” He didn’t know if he was answering Leviathan or if he was talking to himself. All he knew is that he felt a pang of loneliness when the realization settled as his eyes feel to the floor, shoulders visibly slumping.

He didn’t have anyone like that. Sure, he had people that admired and envied him, that wanted to talk and have a connection with him but, nothing was genuine. Nothing would be as sweet and sincere, as the care Leviathan felt for Henry because…because Henry was his friend. Asmodeus chuckled. Perhaps at the irony of the situation or maybe at his revelation, either way, he finally turned to Leviathan, a smile that his brother had never seen pestered in the face of the younger demon as he slowly got up. Walking to his older brother and planting a kiss on Leviathan’s forehead. Only to walk over to the door and opening it. Leviathan wanted to protest, to ask him why had wanted to know about that, or to just try and comfort his brother, but before he could say anything, Asmodeus spoke.

“…thank you, Levi. For telling me.”

It was the quietest he had ever heard his brother being. And yet, there was such a plead in his voice, asking to be left alone, asking to be given the time and space to think. Leviathan didn’t know what was the best option here, but who was here to deny his brother the comfort that came with being alone, to someone that needed it so much?

Philia: Deep, authentic bond. Pure and kind. From which friendships are born.

****

Hi~

Here is the second part of this fanfic! Overall, I really enjoyed writing Levi in this chapter, and I really hope you all had liked it as well! Next chapter will be up next Saturday as well, until then!!

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