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[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Midnight Surf ☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 4 9 2 3  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 07.04.2024    🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: you go out for a midnight meet-up with your friend marshall lee. a follow up and continuation of "strings"- can be read alone but makes more sense after you read "strings."

The forest again.

Bathed in unnatural candy hues of the night, the foliage didn't dare rustle as you waded through it carefully. You walked and walked, greeted by many off-putting but harmless creatures, until you stopped at a grassy hill overlooking a familiar landscape.

  You sat down on the checkered white and red cloth sprawling across the ground. You looked around. He appeared slowly. From completely invisible to a floating, but very real, wraith. 

  "Hey, dude, what took you so long?" Marshall floated down, almost sitting but still floating above the ground like a mysterious fog. 

  "Walking. I don't have flying privileges." You smiled up at him, crossing your legs. His expression changed as it dawned on him, but he didn't look any less mischievous or smug. 

  "What do you want to do today? Er, tonight?" You corrected yourself awkwardly as you shifted in your seat. He sat down on the cloth, his long legs outstretched beyond its edge. His band shirt- cropped by him and a pair of scissors, accessories to the crime-  shifted over his shoulder. You weren't even looking down there, you were fixated on his face. 

  Instead of a response he dug through his deceptively flat pockets. He pulled out a pack of- cigarettes? You squinted. You had seen those before, one of the first times you hung out. And by his own words, they weren't tobacco.

  "Are you into this kind of stuff?" He asked as he lowered his arm, quirking a brow. You piped up. 

  "Yes. If you are," You said, a little too fast and a little too eager. Not even a little, a lot. He smiled, amused. 

  "Oh? Didn't pin you as the type." He opened the box.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," You replied cryptically, laughing as you looked away. 

  He lit the cigarette with the lighter he carried around at all times. Once he lit several cotton candy trees with it on Prince Day. That didn't go over well. The trees filed a restraining order against him.

  Marshall brought the cigarette to his lips and puffed a cloud of glitter. You suppressed a cough, gaze focused down. He passed you the thing and you took it hesitantly, bringing it to your lips. You paused. Your hands shook and your chest tightened, the pythons in your lungs strangling you from inside. 

  The cigarette had grooves in it from his nails. There was a slight scuff in the paper and you could see where his teeth grazed the pink filter. 

  You heard your name said softly. 

  You glanced up at him as your shoulders tensed upwards and your brows slumped downwards.

  "You okay?" Marshall leaned down to be on your eye level but kept his distance. His hands were close to your knees. You lowered the cigarette.

  "I have got to admit something." You frowned. "I'm sober. I don't do drugs, smoke, drink... anymore." 

  You waited for some kind of disappointment from him, telling you you were lame. You hadn't thought about this. When you saw him in Fionna's house that evening, you weren't sober yet, and you could've done it then- but now- you couldn't bring yourself to fake it, or to break your clean streak. 

  The air around you felt empty and cooler, his gaze like a sweater of hay. 

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Instead of disappointed, he looked concerned. You thought about the answer. Your hands clenched around nothing as Marshall took the cigarette away from you. 

  You felt grass poke into your legs. 

  "Well, I... don't know. I guess it didn't feel important enough until now." 

  "It is important. I'm proud of you. And I'll keep these away from you, by smoking them all myself," He said with an underlying light tone, juuust as you thought he was getting serious. His attitude put you at ease. 

  You shrugged, shoulders finally relaxing. You laughed. 

  "Go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you." 

  "The effects wear off quickly anyway.”

  He took a drag and his fangs grazed the paper. His eyes shifted over to the horizon.

  You reclined. With the newfound silence, your mind began drifting instantly, thoughts overthinking and brain overflowing with self-doubt. You felt stupid and tiny in his presence at the moment, even though you hadn’t previously. It wasn’t his fault- it was all your brain. Maybe you should’ve told him you were sober before you met up. You sighed.

  “How’s guitar been going?” He asked without looking at you. You pursed your lips. “Good. It’s been good. Learning a lot. Practicing. My fingers are shredded.”

  Your fingers were streaked with marks of steel strings, skin toughened. You wondered if he had the same. You imagined holding his hand, and- you shook your head, shaking away the thought like an etch a sketch.

  Marshall leaned over. You froze as he glanced at your hand. You tensed up instinctively. His eyes flicked up to yours and he leaned back momentarily, leaving as fast as he came (LOL). You exhaled shakily.

  “Welcome to the club. This is your life now,” He huffed out glittering smoke. “If you stop it’ll be gnarly. Keep practicing.” A smug smile adorned his face and his ears tilted up. Your brows raised.

  “I’ve also been practicing synth,” You mentioned with forced casualty. Sharing things about yourself either came out of your mouth randomly and with no prior thought or had to be pried from you by your own hand, no matter how weird it felt.

  “Synth?” Marshall raised a brow.   “And harmonica.”   “Okay...” He turned to you fully, leaning on his hand.   “And drums.”    “And omnichord.”   “And ukulele.”   “And theremin.”   “Also, the violin.”   “Exactly how many instruments do you play?” He asked slowly, squinting.   “All of those.”   “Is that all?”

  “Oh, I've also been practicing the rain stick. It's a very delicate balance. Of balancing the stick and turning it slowly so it sounds like rain and not like white noise coming from a TV in a horror game as the guy finds his clone dead on an armchair. In front of the TV.”

  Marshall’s confusion was evident on his face.   “I don't even know what a rain stick is.”

  “Of course you don't. I mean-“ You raised your hands defensively. Marshall grinned with amusement.

  “Whaaat?” He tilted his head and his ears lowered, hair, darker than the night sky, spilling over his face.

  “I mean it's an unpopular instrument in Aaa. Not to say you don't know things. You know lots of things! More things than I know! Probably.” You glanced from side to side.

  “Like what?” His tone changed and his expression did as well, more mischevious. It was your turn to be confused.

  “I assume a lot of the things you know I don’t- that’s my point? I don’t know?” You awkwardly fidgeted with your hands. Marshall seemed disappointed.

  “Right.” He sighed and snuffed out his cigarette.

  A silence settled.

  Yikes.   …

 You feigned a cough.

 “How's yooooooouuuuur....” You began to speak, only for your neurons to fizzle out. You panicked as your brain searched for a topic.

 “Music career?” You sounded embarrassingly unsure, maybe he wasn’t noticing, but you wanted to punch yourself. In the face. He stuck out his tongue and frowned as the cigarette crumpled into the grass.

  “Same old same old. I'm great and everyone loves me.”

  He focused in on the checkered cloth beneath him. He ran his hands over it in circles and you watched his black nails. His brows stayed furrowed and his voice was quiet.

  “I wish I could do more with it though.”

  You watched him curiously, moving a little closer.

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve done everything. Almost everything...” He shrugged and gestured. You knew he had not played the rain stick. “I've made so many albums and played shows in every place I could reach. Every corner of Aaa and most islands.” He sounded genuine, and his expression was serious. Not everyone got to see him like this. You were happy that you did. You hummed.

  “What about the Nightosphere? Have you done one there?”

  Marshall’s pupils shrunk at your words.

  “Can't. My mom would get involved and it'd be a whole thing.” He huffed and scoffed at the thought.   “I get that. Have you ever been to... the Dead Worlds?”

  “Yeah. Played a metal show. Death loved it. Butterscotch Butler tried to steal my skin.”

  You rolled your eyes.

“Ugh. Typical.”

  You inhaled deeply. The night air was pleasant and fresh, and a breeze had begun to pick up.

  You crossed your legs, following the lines of the grass stuck to the bottom of your shoes.

  “You know, it’s weird how much I think about death. My whole life is just one big thought about death.” You bit your lip. Your nails scratched against the top of your shoes.

  “Imagine how I feel.”

  You met his gaze. His pupils widened, almost becoming round.

  “I can’t,” You responded bluntly. “Do you think it’s worse to be immortal than mortal?”

  “I think both are shit. Immortals long for death, and mortals try to evade it. Besides my mom. She's doing just fine with her immortality." 

  You both looked rather sullen. The atmosphere was heavy.

  “Do you long for death?”

  “Not anymore.”

  You were relieved and concerned at that.

  “I try not to ask about the way you became a vampire,” He had told you about some of his past, in fragmented bits that you had pieced together. “But do you think it influenced the way you view it? Death?”

  “It changed everything. I forced myself not to care. The loss is endless and the crap is endless.”

  You ran a hand through your hair.

  “That is crazy depressing,” You breathed.

  Marshall didn’t reply. He took out a cigarette. He lit it. You would’ve as well.

  "It's been so long since I became a vampire. And I'm still mad about it..." 

  "I'm still mad about plenty of things that happened when I was a kid. I think most people still hold onto some things. Especially when they're that traumatic." You clasped your right hand over your left, careful not to brush the fingertips. 

  "You think so?" 

  "Yeah." 

  He took a drag of the cigarette. You wanted some kind of thank you, some response. You knew you weren't going to get it. It took him a lot to open up. And he was also high to an unknown degree. At least you two matched each other's weirdness.

 “You know what’s more depressing? My exes.” You snapped your fingers.

  "Want me to beg?"  He smirked.

   You stuttered in flustered confusion. 

  "What-?!" 

   Marshall laughed. 

  "The last time you mentioned your exes? Treehouse?”

  You covered your face.

“Oh… right. Don’t say that ever again, what the hell?"

  Marshall shrugged.

  “My last ex was a demon.”

  Marshall split his attention between you and the cigarette.

  “How’d you meet?”

"I don't recall..." You deflected, fidgeting.

  "You can't "not recall" meeting your demon ex, unless you were as high as Gumball's opinion of himself," Marshall scoffed. You tensed, sighing.

  “I was at a music festival and they threw up in front of my then partner’s sea lard. We started dating shortly after I broke up with said partner some years later.”

  “You’d think the main hurdle in our relationship would be that they were a demon and I was human. But no, the real villain was their struggle with emotional vulnerability and my trauma.” You placed your hand under your chin in thought.

 “What about that other partner?”

  “They were a demon too. And the previous one as well. Huh, all were demons.” You tapped your knee.

  Your eyes widened.

  “Do I have a type?!”

  Marshall held back laughter.

  “You only noticed?”

  You leaned on your hand.

  “Damn, I never thought about it for some reason. Is that weird?”

  “No. It is kinda funny though.” This cigarette was going way faster.

   The moon was high in the sky and you could see galaxies along with the stars.

   You laid on half of the cloth, feet on the grass. A dancing beetle crawled onto you and you shook it off, ending its party of one. You saw things in the sky you hadn’t seen before. Galaxies, stars, nebulas. You should’ve stopped to appreciate things more, small things that became ordinary. Your eyes shifted to Marshall briefly. He looked really cool. You turned your head to the hills. They were spotless.

  “Are you only into demons?”

  Your counting of the stars was interrupted.

  “I wouldn’t say so.”

  You weren’t sure.

  “What about vampires?”

  You partially sat up, but didn’t look at him.

“You’re the only vampire left.”

  He hummed in agreement.

 “I’d- I... I mean, sure,” You stumbled verbally.

  “What about a demon vampire?” You could hear the smile in his voice. You turned to see his gaze on you. You hid your smirk.

  “I’d give them a chance.”

  He hid a giddy expression with a cloud of smoke. Judging by the length of the cigarette, his last cloud. 

  He reached for another. His expression turned perplexed. He shook the box. Empty. 

  "Guess there were only two. I did smoke one while I was waiting for you..." 

  "Sorry for not flying," You sassed from the ground, flailing your arms for emphasis. 

  "You could've asked me to pick you up, you know?" 

  You were confused as you heard and felt the shifting of the cloth. Marshall disappeared. You turned your head around. You called his name unsurely, turning back around to sit up. Before you could, you felt weight on either side of you and watched in horror as Marshall appeared above you. He straddled you. Your face flushed and your brain shut down. 

  "Marshall, what are you doing?" You asked with a strained, worried tone.

  Marshall stared down and studied the details of your appearance. 

  "Hm? I wanna see who I'm talking to," He explained calmly. 

  Your hands dug into the cloth and you pressed yourself into the ground. Your breathing hastened much to your dismay. 

  You gulped as you looked around him, trying to find the least weird place to look at. Not his jean zipper. Probably not his bite mark. You looked into his eyes with desperation which he either ignored or didn't notice. 

  He smelled like that drug, a vaguely herbal and smokey scent, it burned away and clung to him. You could also smell artificial cherry, and it must've been him. Though maybe you were hallucinating. 

  Could he hear your heartbeat? Was that a thing? Those ears of his had to be good for something. 

  You feverishly rummaged around your pockets, pulling out a small box. 

  "You want gum?" 

  He opened his mouth. Fangs. Your brain was melting. 

  "It's red."  

  He closed his mouth and held out his hand, eyes half closed and ears relaxed. You put one in his hand, careful not to brush it, as though it was toxic. 

  Was he pulling your leg? Was it just another joke you didn't get? He liked that, didn't he? Did he? He couldn't. But he was mean. At times. 

  You looked up at the sky. 

  It was quickly covered by his frame, hands now at the sides of your neck. You didn't dare move. Though you couldn't control the rapid rising and falling of your chest.

  "Nervous?" He asked breathily. 

  You frowned. 

  "Uh..." 

  His pupils grew round. 

  "Your heartbeat is so fast. I can see the moon in your stars."

  "You mean... eyes?" 

  "What did I say?" 

   "Stars." 

  "Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting..." He mumbled, and you searched for the meaning on his face. What was he going on about??? 

  He got off you in a swift motion you didn't quite see in the moonlit night. You sat up with an owlish glare. 

  "Are you alright?" Your voice was gentle. You kept your distance. 

  He sat there silently, sucking the red from the gum in a flash. 

  "Do you need any help?" 

 Clearly, yes. His eyes glazed over his palms.

"My hands are so cold." 

  With anxious delay you sat down close to him, taking his hands and wrapping yours around them. Your breath stuttered.

  His grip tightened around you. You felt warmer even though his ice-cold touch, colder than his rings, sent goosebumps across your arms. His finger brushed your inner wrist. You bit your cheek, transfixed.

  "Even though I don't need warmth, this is nice," Marshall said serenely.

  "You don't need warmth?!" You barked.

   "Oops?" He smiled innocently, ears pinned back. 

  "You're so cold!" You whined. 

 "Yet I still make you heat up." 

  You frowned, and he watched your face. His nails became claws and left tantalizing trails. You felt your face rise in temperature.

  "Aw, I wish I could blush."

  "You could've just asked to hold my hands."

  "And you could've asked me for a lift. Why do we do this?" 

  "Cause we're two traumatized shut-ins." 

He put his head on your chest. Your breath stuttered in your lungs. 

   "Very deep."

   "I guess it is- OW!" You flinched as you felt a sharp sensation against your wrist. Marshall leaned back and turned over your right arm with his left. His fingertips were slightly tougher on that side. Your thoughts were proven correct. 

  Your face filled with worry as you saw blood on your arm. 

  "Shit, is this from me?" 

  "Where else would it come from?!" Your voice rang out in barely contained frustration. 

  "I- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, I'd never want to-" His voice suddenly became panicked, his puppy dog eyes filled with remorse. He met your eyes desperately, but you were too focused on the injury. It didn't hurt too much... it was weird. The night was weird. 

  "This was a mistake," He said. 

  "You mean... us meeting tonight?" 

  "No- me scratching you. And offering you drugs. And everything else."

  "Like you straddling me? Or asking if you should beg?" You huffed. 

  "... Yeah. I should be more careful with you." 

  You looked pissed.

  You took your arm away from him harshly, taking a bandaid from a pocket on your jacket and putting it over the scratch. You'd have to disinfect it later. 

  "You carry around a bandaid?" He rose a brow.

  "And a pick." You took out a small guitar pick from your shirt. 

  "Is that it?" 

  "I have a tiny watermelon with a face on it." You showed the plastic watermelon briefly before chucking it back in.

  You smoothed down the bandaid. Your touch lingered. It was hard to focus on anything else.

  "Again, I'm sorry. I just haven't been this close to anyone in ages."    You sighed. 

  "How long is ages, exactly?" 

  "There was a girl three years ago. And some... guy... hundreds of years ago." 

  You couldn't hide the surprise on your face. 

  "I assumed you had a lot more exes. In hindsight, it doesn't make sense knowing you. Still, feels wrong." 

  You kept talking for quite a while. 

  The moon was slowly drifting away, the horizon brightening. Heavy clouds rolled in and it seemed like it would rain. 

  "It's been fun, but I should probably go. I'm getting sleepy." You stretched as you began to get up. Your legs were falling asleep. Your eyes felt dry and your voice began to creak and deepen. You were thoroughly wasted and your common sense was drifting off with the moon. Your arm also hurt to move in the wrist area. You were over it though. 

  "Touché. Not long 'til the sun rises." 

  Marshall floated up. You almost forgot he did that.

  He began to float along you. You left soft dents in the grass. He left nothing. 

  "Aren't you gonna take that cloth?" You pointed back to the spot you had sat in all night.

  "Oh, that? It's not mine," He said calmly.

  "WHAT." 

  You blinked, face twisted in concern. 

  The ground beneath your feet was plush and the green was ridiculously vibrant even in the dark. You nearly fell over as you stopped at a fork in the hills, one towards Marshall's cave cottage and one towards your place. Your heart nearly lurched out of your body, suddenly set into a faster pace. You didn't notice that Marshall was ready to catch you. The treehouse would've been visible if you turned around. 

  "And this is where we say goodbye," Your voice broke the silence of the landscape with exhaustion-caused softness. 

  "C'mon, let me help you get back home. You're falling asleep," Worry and what you wanted to be care laced his voice. You crossed your arms with a lowering of your brows. 

   "I don't see how you could do that," You said skeptically.

   Marshall's knee-high sneakers touched the ground. He transformed into a giant bat in seconds. 

   "Oh, right." You felt your face flush. 

  His eyes were the same, but rounder and more upturned, with the black scleras much less visible. His ears had the same color but were like that of a bat. They retained their piercings, but were less noticeable. His nose was highly boopable, upturned even more. He was covered with black fur and his arms were wings, the skin fading from its usual hue to black at the claws. He must've been way over 4 meters tall. 

  He picked you up and placed you on his back. You yelped as you gripped his fur for stability. You were startled by how soft it was. The strands were like satin. You couldn't help but run your hands over it, lost in the sauce. 

  "Whoa..." 

  "Uhhh. What are  you doing there?" Marshall's voice took you out of your fixation. You flinched at it. 

  "Sorry!" You held your hands close to yourself. You heard him laugh faintly in response before you took off without warning. You couldn't even scream in shock as you felt like you were being yanked up and down simultaneously. 

  The ground shrunk beneath you and the gusts of wind that had been intensifying became an advantage to Marshall's flight. His wings moved quickly at first, and then he began to glide. Your heart began to slow as the pace evened out. You still looked, and were, utterly terrified. You had to move your jaw to pop your ears from the sudden rise of altitude. The prospect of being so high up was enough to kill you. But the clouds looked pretty, and your vehicle was calm. 

  After a while of undisturbed flight, you stopped caring about the past or the future or what could be or would be- you just cared about this moment. 

  It smelled of fresh petrichor. There was nothing interfering with the fresh air. It was a feeling like no other, and nothing would ever compare to it. If you could fly you'd never complain about anything. Why was Marshall such a dick if he could do this at ANY POINT?! Maybe it was only special to you because you experienced this rarely (never). Like you looking at the stars or at him, he had grown used to the wonders of flight, and it was just another thing, another automatic thing. 

  "Where do I go?" 

  You grimaced. You hadn't even told him where you lived. Oh shit. 

  "To the right! Over the river and forest! Behind the Candy Kingdom and Mountains, overlooking water," You yelled to the best of your abilities. 

  "I can hear you! I have bat ears," He replied. 

  "Great, because my throat hurts," You rasped. The good thing about him being old was that he had to know where that was. You hoped so. 

  You really didn't want to get off Marshall. He was fluffy, and you sneaked one last pet. Glob damn him for being so cute in that form. Not like he wasn't cute in his usual form. But that thought was gonna stay in your vault for the time being. 

  As you got into your house you struggled with the lock. As soon as you entered, you rushed around the house. 

  "I wasn't expecting anyone, so it's a mess in here," You muttered as you shoved stuff and junk under furniture with your shoe. You did so rather lazily, half-conscious. 

  Marshall followed you and spooked you with his lack of footsteps. He flicked on the lights, for your sake. The light assaulted your eyes and you groaned. 

  You dragged yourself to the couch and crumpled onto it, sighing at last, the familiarity of your house coercing you into that good night. Marshall was being uncharacteristically quiet and helpful. You felt unbelievably comfortable as you nuzzled into the smooth fabric. The world began to fade away. You felt a cold pressure on your shoulder, tugging. Your name was repeated several times. You hummed.

  "You gotta get to bed." 

  You opened your eyes minimally. You made incoherent noises. You were too comfortable and too tired.

  "I could carry you-" 

  Without letting him finish that sentence you shot up with a bewildered gaze.

  "NoImgood and suddenly feel veryawake," You interrupted. Marshall squinted at you suspiciously.

  As you were walking to your room you passed by a doorway. Marshall peeked in, disappearing in its darkness. You followed him in, turning on some lamps. Marshall floated over an instrument, pointing to it. 

  "What's that?" You swear you saw his eyes sparkle as he stared at it.

  "Omnichord." 

  "Can I try it?"  

  You nodded.

  He looked around the various buttons, the glinting strum plate catching his eye. He clicked the on button and pressed on A minor. He touched the strum plate. As soon as it made a warm shimmering sound his ears stood straight, gaze mystified. He did it again, dragging his finger against the strum plate. He looked over the plastic buttons and letters, clicking on some until he found a chord progression. 

  It was novel seeing him mess around. You leaned against the doorframe as a smile found its way to your tired face. You had that beautiful bastard in your house, in your music room, playing with this ancient shit like a kid. It was probably from around his time, too.

  "Where did you find this magical machine?" He looked over his shoulder. 

  "Gumball helped me get it." You flipped your wrist. He slowed his playing. 

  "Gumball." His tone wasn't happy. The atmosphere did a 180, but you didn't notice. 

  " Yeah, we're vaguely friends, without him, I probably wouldn't be able to find all this old tech." Your hands found their way around your body. You closed your eyes for a second.

  "Cool," You vaguely heard Marshall's faux chill tone. The darkness behind your eyelids was fuzzy. For a second, you'd just close them for a second...

  Your name resounded in your head. Again, and again, a chorus echoing in the dark. Cold on your shoulders and cool air around your face. Snowing? Was it snowing? Ice Kingdom? Ice cream? You scream? We all scream for her? 

  Your name close to your face. A familiar, melodic voice. You opened your eyes. Blurry. You looked around, neck movements slowed. You looked straight ahead. 

  "You fell asleep."

  You blinked, groaning. You blinked once more- the face- Marshall. You had never been so close to him. You could see his smudged eyeliner set with eyeshadow and his dark lashes, the furrows and crypts in his iris, all his glinting black metal piercings, the texture of his black lips. His brows lowered and you saw every hair. His hair, was it as soft as his fur? You reached up but stopped.

  "Oh shit. This isn't a dream?" You muttered as you froze. 

  Marshall instantly unhanded you. 

  "No." He looked at your hand, raised to the ends of his hair. He silently asked you what you were doing. You hummed in thought, dropping your arm. 

  "Just dreamed... of something... sorry," You mumbled. 

  The walk to your room was short. A minute at most. But now, it was like your body was in water, and everything was spinning in a washing machine inner drum. Your room smelled familiar, woody, a slice of nature. 

  You were about to close your door.    Marshall stopped it with his arm, startling you with the ease of his resistance to the pressure you put on the door. 

  "Wait-"

  You hummed in question. 

  "The sun- the sun is rising and it's raining. Can I stay the day?" He looked down at you with pleading eyes. You would've agreed to anything at this point. Sea lard in your bed? Sure. Cactus in your hair? Sure. Whatever you want, man. 

  "Of course. Take the couch," You forced out dryly, head nodding sleepily. You hoped he wouldn't steal your couch, literally taking it. Anything was possible with Marshall.

  "Sick-" 

  You shut the door and closed the lock, walking around your room as you discarded your clothes. All you wanted was the sweet embrace of the void, for a little reprise.       - Bonus!

-

  After you awoke, feeling like a corpse, you fixed yourself and with immense willpower, opened your door. You were mad hungry. The sun outside was setting. You must've slept for over ten hours. 

You found your kitchen empty of any vampire demons and ate anything you could get your hands on. 

  You carefully crept into your living room, looking around the corner. You saw a bat hanging off the chandelier. You frowned. 

  "What the what is a bat doing here?!" You clutched the couch, wondering how you'd get it out. 

  The bat flew down and turned into Marshall. You pursed your lips. 

  "Good morning to you too."

  You gulped. Oh glob.

  "... Good morning." 

#a d v e n t u r e t i m e #w r i t i n g #☂️ #marshall lee x reader #marshall lee #art's mine btw

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 7- Lift Back And See The Darkness Hid☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 3 5 8 3 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 04.02.2024    🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: hangovers are wild, man. TW: brief d3ath

  The next morning you awoke in confusion. And with a raging, hellish headache. You groaned as you got up. You looked around groggily. 

  It was a small room with a mat on the floor. The light was dim, either evening or dawn. You thought about what you did before you passed out. 

  You got your dagger back from two yokai. Tomoe and Akura-ou. Akura was in the large room, passed out in a chair. Tomoe led you to a balcony where you must've dozed off. Well, led, you followed him. 

  You were in the castle, evident by the architecture and the same incense smell, but no longer on the balcony. Had you walked there in a drunken haze? 

  You left the room silently, searching for a soul of any kind. Preferably one you were familiar with. 

  You heard whispers down the hall. A small furry creature with an odd face stepped out. It stared at you. You resisted your urge to run as hard as you could. You clutched your dagger. 

  "This dagger has cut down many yokai, and I'm not afraid to use it to cut down another." You scowled, straightening your posture. The uncertainty in your voice showed through the cracks in your facade. 

  The furry creature scuttered away. 

  You sighed in relief, slumping over. 

  You stood at the stairs with a dilemma. You headed upstairs. Your head radiated with a throbbing, crushing pain. Hangovers. Hangovers, dammit. 

  You looked around the corner. There were belongings of the treasure variety scattered around as well as some weapons and maps. What a mess. You weren't gonna clean that. 

  You peeked into a room. What the hell? It was empty. Just filled with rubble. You didn't expect any less of yokai... especially yokai such as them. 

  A breath on your neck startled you. You were picked up roughly and raised to a freakish height almost as tall as the ceiling. You exclaimed. A giant oni had crept up on you. You questioned your hearing and could not believe your eyes. You reached for your dagger. You struggled as the oni squished your back, flattening your aching body over his shoulder. You huffed. Too early for this shit...

  You stabbed at his ribs, and he let you go with a horrific groan. You fell on your ass. You've had worse falls. 

  But that one was pretty damn bad. Your bloodied dagger dug into the wooden ground, hair obscuring your vision. An unpleasant smell of iron filled the air. 

  The head of the oni came off in one swipe, rolling to the side on the floor. He fell into a heap. 

  "Talk about clutter," Remarked Akura-ou as he stared at the body, kicking it with his boot. 

  "Akura-ou..." You whispered from the floor. His gaze shot to you, his smile falling.  

  "What are you doing here?" 

  You shrugged, leaning on your knees. A little blood got on your clothes.

  "Takin' a stroll," You replied nonchalantly. He stepped over the body, pulling you off the floor roughly. You wedged your knife out of the floor. Awkward. 

  "I didn't know you were still here." 

  "I am. And my head's killing me..." You mumbled in pain, rubbing your temple. Akura wore a weird knitted long sleeve that mimicked mesh... or clothes eaten by moths. He had a thin leather belt around his waist, stacked necklaces, and a... belt around his neck. How strange. 

  "You should get out," He muttered, pulling you by the arm. 

  "A-a- hey!" You grabbed his wrist. He glanced at you in confusion, frowning. 

  "Do I have to leave?"

  He rose a brow and chortled fruitily. 

  "You're crazy. Don't you want to?" 

  You tilted your head, averting your gaze. 

  "I don't have anything better to do. And my farm will be fine if I leave it for a bit..." You trailed off. You must've still been delirious since none of your words made sense to you.

  "You're right! I should leave, I don't know what I was thinking." You laughed nervously. Loneliness must've driven you to madness. 

  Akura waved his hand. 

  "Whatever. Just ask Tomoe." 

  He turned away, going into a room and closing the door. You called after him hopelessly. He gave you a mocking "good luck" and you heard his footsteps disappear. You put your hands on your hips, kicking the oni on the floor. You huffed.

  "It's just you and me, corpsie."

  You stretched your arms as you explored a new part of the castle. You had wandered quite far, to a whole other quarter. It was a tad darker and neater. 

  A shape raced towards you. You strayed to the other side cautiously, watching the shape come into focus. It was a humanoid yokai with a strange face and a bouquet of... heads. How sweet. 

  He screeched to a halt near you, reaching for your head. 

  "Oh! You'd be a lovely addition to my garden!" He chirped, painted lips twisting into an unnatural, giddy smile. 

  Too damn early. 

  You thought quickly.

  You squinted, scoffing, making the snottiest expression you could, posing like a pissed-off diva. 

  "It's me, Tomoe," You said lowly. The yokai halted. "I can't believe you'd mistake me with a human." You rumbled. 

  "O-of course, master! I'm so-sorry, your disguise was perfect! You looked just like a pathetic human!" He sputtered. 

  You scoffed, actual anger boiling over. 

  "You think I'm pathetic?! You better start runnin'!" You barked, raising your hand, an illusion of fire created by an ofuda of yours flickering. 

  The yokai ran. 

  You smiled triumphantly. 

  "Do you think that's how I talk?" 

  You flinched. 

  "Fu- can you all STOP doing that!" You whisper-yelled, clutching your chest. Tomoe smiled faintly. 

  You searched his eyes for judgment.  He looked kinder than usual. What stupid thing had you said when you were drunk? This castle would wreck your nerves for life at such a rate. As if they weren't wrecked enough.

  "Did you sleep well?" He said with a strange tone bordering on sarcasm. You raised a brow. Was he asking for real? Was he being an asshole? 

  "Eh... as well as a hungover sleep can get," You said, clasping your hands around the back of your neck. 

  "Horribly?" 

  "Precisely." You hung your head, your tone utterly defeated.

  "And I had wandered to a random room in the castle..." You muttered unsurely. Tomoe's smile turned smug. You frowned in confusion. You didn't make eye contact. It felt like if you did, you'd melt. 

  "I wouldn't say you wandered," He lilted, holding back laughter. You fluttered your eyelashes, face heating up. 

  "W... What did I do?" 

  "Nothing." His smile was wide. 

  You blanched. 

  "Oh-" You touched your forehead. "Akura-ou told me to talk to you." 

  "You did just that." 

  You sighed. 

  "No. I don't want to leave the castle yet." You tensed your muscles, crossing your arms. The idea began to make sense in your head. You had gone mad. You accepted it. 

  He hummed, bringing a hand under his face, elbow propped up by his other arm. His sleeves, decorated with flames, shifted. 

  "Fine. Suit yourself, human." He swept his claws through the air, turning away from you and disappearing in a fog. 

  Your shoulders slumped. 

  "Why does everyone keep leaving me?"  

  You wandered from room to room, avoiding the ones behind which you heard strange noises. Not only did they aggravate your headache, but they were also highly disturbing based on previous events in this castle. 

  You walked into a room. 

  It was messy, filled with a lot of smaller objects. There was an unfinished go game. It seemed one of the players had a fit of rage during the game. There was a shogi ban with scattered koma. 

  There was also a ban-sugoroku, which people had gambled over judging by the remnants of sake bottles and glasses as well as loose coins. 

  You left the room. 

  You stumbled upon another room filled with residual smoke, clouding up the room made of warm-toned wood. You coughed. You squinted. The smoke felt more like fog. You could make out some larger furniture pieces. The smoke cleared up as you walked through the room. You studied the room. It was by far the most organized one you'd seen so far. High-quality kosode lay piled nicely. One was a kosode you recognized- it had a chrysanthemum pattern. 

   "How's my room?" Asked a soft voice from the direction of the sliding door. You turned your head, hiding your hands. 

  "Tomoe! This is... your room?" You looked around once more, pretending you hadn't figured that out already. 

  He breathed out smoke from a long pipe. 

  Awful manners. 

  "Of course. It's the only nice place in this castle, I'm sure you've noticed." Smoke spilled from his lips, engulfing him. He began walking to you slowly. You stepped back, hand finding your dagger. 

  He stopped in front of you. He eyed you up. 

  "Are you just gonna stand there?" You asked. His eyes were sheepish. 

  "Why? Do you want me to do something?" 

  You huffed, leaving the room. 

  "Oh, never you mind." 

  The main yard wasn't too eventful. There was a nice bonsai tree in the middle. You watched its branches softly move in the breeze that moved through your hair, soothing your headache after the hangover and the stuffy castle. 

  A small shadow scuttered across, and you recognized it as the furry one. You furrowed your brows. 

  You went into a room. Maybe it would be fine and you could stay in it for a while? 

  It was the largest room you had seen so far. It was truly impressive, and the ceilings were higher. There was a nice, giant bed hidden by curtains. The furniture was rich red. The sun had begun to set. You had spent the whole day wandering around. You had managed to snack on some of your roasted soybeans and washed it down with a small bit of leftover sake you found. 

  The room also contained screens and a table, as well as a lot of mats and scattered clothes in piles that probably made sense to the creature in the room. You didn't see anyone though, which gave you some hope. They wouldn't mind if you just took a nap somewhere there, right? No one minded when cats did it. 

  You approached the bed cautiously. It was dark behind the curtains, and the orange light from outside wasn't much help. You leaned in. 

  You froze when you were met with blood-colored hair and ox horns. You were about to- silently- bolt away when Akura-ou grabbed your wrist and pulled you into himself, hugging you tightly. You writhed. 

  He hummed in his sleep. He was suffocatingly warm, bordering on hot.

  You felt his silky hair on your neck, engulfing you like the tendrils of a fire, arms long and smooth around you, pressing you into his flat stomach and chest. He was too strong for you to push his arms away. You stayed still in silent fear. His claws brushed your sides. You didn't want to get scratched by him again. Shit, being so close to him, you remembered the day you met him. The holes he left in your hip were still there as off-colored scars. 

  He was the raging fire through a house, a fire that could wipe out a village, and could level a forest, could level buildings you couldn't even imagine. 

  His silky hair and his warmth and his strong hold were such sick reminders of it all. 

  You slid out from his arms as best as you could, your clothes getting disheveled in the process. 

  He cracked open an eye. It shone golden through the low light. 

  "Who said you could leave?" He rumbled raspily. You felt your face get hot. He pulled you back down, and you couldn't do a thing as one of his arms wrapped around your chest and the other around your hips. He buried his face in your neck. You breathed in sharply. 

  What did you feel? 

  You felt like you were being torn apart. Pure fucking terror. 

  "You could be a fun game, human." 

  You didn't like how he said that. And you didn't like how your stomach did a flip at his voice. 

  What a demented sleepover.

  You felt his teeth graze your neck. Your eyes widened, adrenalin rushing through you. You shut your eyes tightly, terrified of his teeth piercing your skin. Instead, you felt his tongue against your skin. You exclaimed, writhing and turning to face him as you uselessly wrangled his arms. He smiled innocently. A fire raging through a house? No, a fire raging around you, through you. You met his gaze. It was horrible, and his teeth were like knives, your chest rose and fell and you struggled against him as he was still. 

  "Wasn't that hilarious?" Akura-ou flashed a smile. You felt your heart beat feverishly. 

  "That was horrifying!" You whisper-yelled. Your hangover was receding and you knew then more than ever before that staying was a bad idea. It had hinged on you having control over your stay. Fuck that idea, that's what Akura thought, you assumed. You could see it on his smug face. 

  Still much more interesting than the farm. Overall, not the worst decision you have made or would make. It could be a lot worse. 

  "Humans are weird," He muttered as he rested his head against the pillow, gently stabbing the pillow with his horn, ear folded up awkwardly. 

  "Why are you holding me?" You frowned, tone unhappy. 

  He moved his ear up. 

  "'Cause I want to." Akura-ou held you more firmly. "I don't hear you complaining." 

  You didn't reply. 

  He was right. Unfortunately for you. 

  "It wouldn't do much of anything." You deflected. You didn't look away from his eyes. There was no escape as he held you. 

  Peaches. 

  The bastard smelled of peaches. And uh, blood, which sent you spiraling. Where the fuck would he get blood? God knew he had plenty on his hands, did he not? He looked like it, and the dark splotches on his boots were always there like fluttering red flags. 

  You missed those peaches. 

   You stayed tense in his arms. Your pride wouldn't allow you to relax. 

  Time seemed to pass by painfully slow. It couldn't have been that long, there was still that orange glow that was fading into red, but each second of his touch felt like a million years of carnal sin.

  He had closed his eyes, either asleep or blissing out, unlike you, wide awake and tense as a string. 

  You sighed, finally relaxing. Your muscles loosened and your head drifted into his chest. You forgot that he wasn't wearing a shirt, at that point, you were just glad to relax the muscles in your sore neck. 

  It felt really good. It felt wrong. You put aside those thoughts as much as you could, letting your mind buzz with empty noise. Your eyes fluttered closed. Who knew you'd feel so comforted in the arms of the very thing you despised? You must've been loopy. Yokai- they were all sinful and evil creatures no matter how soft their skin or how silky their hair. Especially that one! He killed like it was a joke. And you stabbed like it was a greeting.... oh, well, maybe it was the fate you deserved. 

  Your slice of heaven was interrupted when you heard the double doors open, followed by hasty footsteps. 

  "Brother. I'm here to ask you about the human. You told the human to speak to me. What do you intend to do-" He stopped talking as he saw you together. Akura slowly opened an eye, glazing over Tomoe. You pursed your lips. 

  "Well, well, well. Seems like I missed a lot," Purred Tomoe from above you. 

  You pushed on Akura-ou's chest. 

  "It's not what it looks like!" You protested with pleading eyes. 

  "He dragged me down and forced me to stay!" 

  Akura pressed you against his chest sleepily and you gave Tomoe a worried look.

  "Why are you being so loud..." The oni grumbled. 

  "Once again, you never fail to disappoint with your buffoonery. Let the human go." 

  Akura-ou untangled himself from you, and you nearly fell off the bed in your hurry to get away. He seemed unimpressed and annoyed. 

  You caught yourself and slicked back your hair, smoothing out your clothes. You left the room, fixing yourself up. 

  You flicked your eyes to the side. Somehow Tomoe was already there. 

  "Do you have a kitchen?" You asked, out of breath. His tail swung like a pendulum. 

  "Yes. Somewhere in here." He glanced to the side. "I'd have to wander to find it. And I happen to be very tired..." He feigned a yawn. 

  "I'll find it on my own then, pokin' through every room I find, happening upon the weird creatures in this place..." You began. His ears lowered and his tail flicked upwards aggressively. 

  "Somehow I don't feel tired anymore," Tomoe said tensely.

  The kitchen could hardly be called so. 

  It was disheveled, smelled like mold, and the dishes present were enough to make you feel sick. You swallowed uncomfortably. You ignored the dark stains all over the room as best as you could 

  "Can you cook?" You turned to Tomoe with horror barely concealed in your eyes. Yokai didn't eat, so it'd be odd if he did. 

  Tomoe almost looked embarrassed, covering his face with his hand. He pointed somewhere and you followed his directions. 

   .... 

  You were met by amorphous sludge in the corner of the room. You screamed. 

  "EUGH! That's awful!" You bent over, coughing from the mess.

  "For the love of god, clean this up!" You begged, shutting your eyes which began to water. 

  He swung his tail low, ears pinned back.

  "... I don't want to," He whispered, your horror rubbing off on him. 

  You cleaned the kitchen. After, it seemed like a whole other room, and if you hadn't seen it transform, you'd believe if someone told you it was another room. 

  Tomoe had graciously helped, after you encouraged him with some gentle threats, such as "I know where you sleep" and "I have a dagger" among others. 

  You washed remaining... substances off your hands. 

  You were determined to teach that fox how to cook for shit. Maybe it'd make him more human, and less of a mess. Give him more to do besides taking over castles and being annoying. Plus, think about it, you could force him to cook for you. 

  His pal was a lost cause though. 

  Poor bastard. 

  For the rice part, you had found some in the castle. It was a rather unfortunate treasure hunt and the things you saw during it... you wished you didn't have eyes for that whole sequence of events. You thought nothing could shock you. You were wrong. 

  As for the fish, you didn't have any on hand. Just when you leave your whole live fish at home you suddenly need it! Ugh! Tale as old as time. 

  You stood knee-deep in a rushing river. You stared into the water so hard nothing else seemed to exist. You stayed perfectly still until you saw a shadow. Then, you reached in and caught the fish by what you hoped were its gills. 

  You pulled it out of the water with a splash, stepping out of the river disgruntled. 

  "That would've been impressive if it didn't take you five tries." Tomoe watched you closely. You scoffed, throwing the fish at him. You ignored his comment. 

  "I'm going to go scrape shiitake mushrooms off some castle walls." 

  You instructed Tomoe as he cut the fish up after cleaning it. He got the hang of it quickly, clearly- concerningly- experienced with blades. 

  You cut the shiitake mushrooms into even slices. You arranged them in a burgundy bowl on top of fluffy rice, the other side taken up by fish. 

  Tomoe watched you arrange the composition with purple puppy eyes, tail still, and ears alert. Your knife went through smoothly, in calculated and rehearsed motions. 

  Once he tried himself, he focused, frowning as it didn't turn out right the first time. He had tried to line it up perfectly, but the slices were uneven, thicker at the bottom and thinner at the top. 

  "It's alright, you'll have plenty of time to learn," You soothed calmly. You instinctively began to lift your arm and hand. 

  "I have an eternity." 

  His tone was ambiguous. Your arm fell to your side. 

  You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you picked up the bowl and a pair of chopsticks.

  Your vision blurred due to a thick fog that formed around you, clearing up once you were in another room, a small bedroom you hadn't seen before. You turned your head to Tomoe. 

  "You're letting me stay? I thought you hated humans." 

  He crossed his arms. 

   "You're no regular human." 

  Your worry was clear on your face. 

  "A mere human wouldn't use an ofuda."

  "How did you know..." You frowned. You had used an ofuda before he appeared earlier, but that had been invisible. That meant he was talking about...

  "Akura-ou tells me everything. You're a human god." A fan materialized in his hand from a sputtering of blue fire. He fanned himself, white hair fluttering. 

  "Stay out of trouble." 

  He was gone in a flash of fire. 

  You set your bowl down on a table, sitting down. 

  You had gotten yourself into quite a situation, hadn't you? 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 6- All This Rotting Fruit☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 6 8 8 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 28.01.2024    🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: a rematch. .TW: alc0hol

He poured and poured and seemed a far more compelling opponent compared to the surprisingly disappointing oni, who was sitting in comatose, folded in half, occasionally humming. He could've been asleep. 

  The light outside was fading, but you weren't looking, you weren't counting, for all you knew the world had ended. 

  "Na-now-" Tomoe lifted a finger, taking one last drink. His flush was far more obvious. You must've been drunk to delirium because you didn't feel intense revulsion while looking at him. He almost looked human, almost looked like he had a weakness. 

  That illusion would easily be shattered once he and you sobered up. You knew that. You didn't want it to. 

  "We'll be writing..." He paused. After a minute you began to worry.  "defense apple. The one who... does so most accurately gets the..." Another pause. "stab... stick?" He forced a serious tone through a painfully obvious haze. You nodded as best as you could, which looked more like you were possessed. 

  He put up the screen, fiddling a lot more than last time. An egregious amount more. You raised a brow as he struggled. 

  You heard him tap his fingernails against the table. You stared at the paper, sticking out your tongue. Your high had begun to fade and your brain was slowing down along with the rest of your body. You were starting to wonder why the hell you agreed to this. 

  Your dagger. It was worth it all, even worth the hangover. 

  Defense... apple... you focused. You knew that one but hadn't written it in a while. You'd seen defense in war-related documents recently enough. Though admittedly, you hadn't written it much at all, same with apple. 

  You wrote it with a little more steadiness than the last, feeling more confident. 

  The screen was taken away roughly. You jolted up at the sound. You looked down at his paper. Tomoe prodded at Akura's shoulder. He grumbled in response, asking for ten more hours. 

  Tomoe had forgotten several strokes in the latter part of apple. You had forgotten the small stroke on top of the second part of defense. Technically, you had less errors. 

  He gawked at your paper with an open mouth. You could see his canines. His hands gripped the table so tight you thought he'd flip it.

  "So..." You started. 

  He gave you the dagger wordlessly. 

  You gripped it tightly. 

  You were never letting go of it. 

  He stood up and began to walk away. Akura ou stayed on his chair, most likely asleep. You followed Tomoe, trailing behind his tail. You almost touched it until he turned his head to you. 

  You had left the room and were walking through the halls.

  "Why are you still here?" He asked with a frown and a twitch of his tail. 

  "Eh... don't wanna leave..." You flipped your wrist. 

  You walked through wooden rooms, ending up in a hall with many windows. His ear flicked. 

  Tomoe stopped, turned to you, reached out for you, retying your kosode, left over right. 

  "What an eyesore..." He mumbled. 

  He secured the belt and fixed your collar. His hand brushed against your neck. 

  You blinked sheepishly. 

  "I liked it that way." 

  "I did. NOT. It's horribly... horrible. Who taught you to do that?!" 

  "I taught m'self. After my family passed, I wished I had too," You joked, shrugging, your face flushed with intoxication. Tomoe frowned, gazing down at you. 

  "Your family... whatever happened?" 

  "Yokai burned everything down. I killed a few... but I wish... I wish I could kill 'em all." You cleared your throat, avoiding his gaze and feeling hotter. 

  "I thought you hated me for- no reason."

  You sighed shakily, one hand tangling in your hair and the other hugging your waist. 

  "You don't... care- uh-bout humans... about their little... useless lives. None a you. Why should I care 'bout you, then?" 

  You stumbled onto a balcony, laying down on a pillow. Tomoe followed. His frown was cemented, painted with worry. 

  "Human- that's not-" 

  "Shut up..." You rumbled. He flinched at your words. You dug your fingers into the soft fabric and drifted into sleep. 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 5- Long Season Through☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)   • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 1 5 2 3 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 21.01.2024    🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: an opportunity presents itself in annoying hues. TW: fire mention, (a copious amount of) alcohol(ism) (being ingested). .

The sound of a shovel hurling through the air and hitting a mound of mud made the birds in a three-hundred and sixty-shaku radius take off flying in a petrified haze. 

  Your mood was a rotten peach decaying in the mud. The amount of negativity surrounding you could summon a miasma. 

  You sat on the grass, hanging your head low. Last week had been tough. You didn't feel the same after what happened in the town. He stopped it, but he was so close to not. If not for your tears, everyone would've... 

  You pressed your hands into your temples. You focused on your breathing. Even writing hadn't gone well today, your strokes were lax and the words wouldn't flow. Neither did cooking go well. You ended up eating a ridiculous amount of bread and pickled plums. 

  You wouldn't need to eat for another century. And when you tried reading, your eyes and mind wandered far from the page. 

  A shadow obscured the dim sun. 

  You looked up. 

  A bold red shadow against the blue sky stood above you. Great. The last person you wanted to see. 

  "What do you want, oni?" You asked with a small voice, cracking throughout. 

  "Come with me, crazy human." He reached out a claw to you. It was framed by black, chrome feathers.

  You took it, and he lifted you easily. A soft reminder of his power. His hand was hot. 

  "Cool." You stood, waiting patiently for him to do some magic. 

  He rose a brow.

  "You're not going to argue with me?" 

  You shook your head. 

  "Take me away from this wretched place. I'm done." 

  After a delay, he smirked, flashing his razor-sharp shark teeth. 

  Instead of fog, everything swirled with black wind, like a thick smog that prompted you to cough. 

  You stood in a worn down castle, once abandoned but now lived in again, taken by force, made evident by the damage and odd decor. It was incohesive, cobbled together, the most expensive treasures and baubles someone had stuffed in corners and stuck on walls. 

  Akura kept walking. You tapped your foot in place. 

  "Huh? Aren't you coming?" 

  "Nah. I've decided to stay and rot here 'til I die." You smiled. 

  "I decide who rots and when in this castle. Move," He ordered.

  You didn't budge as he softly pressed on your back. Your sandals shuffled. 

  "Tomoe has your dagger. He's here. You could, you know, get it back." His hair ghosted over your neck. 

  Your eyes lit up, and you felt determination coming back to you. 

  "Really?" You began walking, his hand still on your back. 

  "Really. But don't think it'll be easy." He laughed behind closed teeth. You felt a chill run up your spine as his claws brushed your skin. 

  The castle was far from empty. It was filled with servants and goons of Akura-ou. You assumed that's what they were. Or maybe they were Tomoe's? 

  Your destination had been a large room with a few floor-to-ceiling windows and various tables. At one with three chairs, in the middle chair, sat Tomoe. Portuguese chairs, carved intricately. Such luxury. 

  Next to him on the table were several flasks of sake, sake cups, brushes, and... ink... and paper. How peculiar. 

  A sparkle. Your dagger was lying in his lap. His tail swung quickly. 

  "You're back quick." 

  The door closed loudly. It shook the walls. The room smelled of incense- standing in the other corner of the room- and... alcohol. And pine, and a subtle cherry smell. So much was going on, and your brain had trouble processing it, including the unusual spirits on either side of you. 

  "I don't like dragging things out."

  You plopped down in one of the other chairs, Akura-ou in the one opposite of you. 

  You inspected the table, glancing up at Akura and Tomoe with owlish eyes. 

  "You get your dagger if you win," Akura said, nodding over to Tomoe. His ears perked up. 

  "You and Akura-ou will drink undiluted sake until you're as drunk as can be. Then, you both will attempt to write [the kanji for] "melancholy rose". The one who manages to do so- will keep the dagger," Explained Tomoe. 

  Your joy faded as quickly as it came. 

  "Drinking with a yokai?! That's damn impossible!" You tangled your hands in your hair. Tomoe smiled. 

  "We'll see." Tomoe glanced to Akura, and their eyes met, smiles matched in mischieviousness, one face demonic, and one ethereal. 

  You inhaled. 

  You smiled smugly. 

  "Fine. I take your deal." 

  The first drink was a puppy. 

  The tenth was a hellhound biting off your head. 

  Some time after that you had stopped counting. 

  You groaned, hot face held in your shaky hands. The alcohol burned in your stomach all the way back up your throat. Your mouth had started to numb. You could see well enough, but your body was loose, and each movement seemed so much more broad and intense. You laid your head on the table. You kept feeling the fabric of your clothing with your fingertips. 

  Akura had a lightly flushed face and kept needlessly fixing his hair. You had an... uncontrollable urge to go for a run. And to knit. You never knitted. Or went for runs. 

  "How drunk are you?" Asked Tomoe, watching you with disinterest. Akura-ou flipped his hair, and it hung from his horns. He attempted to fix it, only managing to tangle another piece of hair on his golden disc earrings. He growled. 

  You tried to lift yourself. Your body was heavy. You huffed, clinging to your chair. 

  You gasped. 

  "Drunk... enough..." You sighed, folding over. Your hair obscured your vision. Akura-ou's eyes were glassy and squinting at a corner in the room. 

  You stared at him through your hair. 

  "How are you drunk? When you drank at the festival... you downed what seemed like bottle after bottle with no issue-" You forced out between breaths and nonsensical hums. 

  "I drank only.... a glass.... or two. The rest was... juice." He tried to lean back, almost falling and catching himself by gripping the table. 

  A screen was placed between you two. His horns still peeked out from behind. 

  You were given a brush, ink, and a piece of paper. You inhaled, trying to focus and pull yourself together. You only made yourself dizzier. 

  The melancholy rose kanji... the shapes were vaguely in your mind. One was like a chicken coup with a skewer on top. The other was like a wise old man squinting... or something like that. 

  You were thankful you had eaten a lot that day, as it seemed you were faster to sober up. Akura... by his shadow, it seemed like he wasn't writing at all, only swaying back and forth like a maple sapling in the wind. 

  You made your best guess with the parts of the kanji you remembered. You cringed. And empty page- a writer's worst nightmare. Shapes swirled before you and your world spun as you felt nausea rise in your throat. Your body felt weightless and you felt yourself floating away into a reverie. 

  You closed your eyes. A while ago you wrote something with those exact words. You audibly hummed as you thought and your face scrunched in frustration. You wished you could shove your hand into the deepest parts of your brain and retrieve the memory and slap it on the page. You bit your lip. 

  You opened your eyes. The page stared back expectantly. 

  "Don't look at me like that." 

  It didn't reply. You huffed, tapping your brush. 

  Your hand trembled as you dipped the brush into the ink, and set it down on the paper. If you never tried, you'd never win. And you couldn't miss the opportunity. So you steeled your nerves and wrote like you weren't drunk and being scrutinized by sly purple eyes. 

  You placed the final stroke, checking the writing. It was as close as you were going to get. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as sobriety came creeping up to you. 

  The screen was removed. 

  Akura was in the middle of falling asleep over what was... well, it could've been an abstract painting, it could've been an ink spill, it could've been a hallucination; it was many things- but it wasn't "melancholy rose". 

  You looked down at your paper. You hadn't fared too badly. 

  Tomoe's eyes widened. He banged on the table. 

  "Akura! That's abhorrent!" He pointed a grey claw at the paper. Akura ou hummed incomprehensibly in response. Tomoe stared at him with disappointment. They switched places. Akura was shoved out of his chair and into Tomoe's. He didn't seem to mind. He was in a place far away now. Rest in piss. 

  Tomoe sat down. He placed the dagger on the table. Your hand reached towards it. He spawned fire in his hand. You slapped it away. The fire faded. Tomoe looked surprised. 

  "I... HATE... fire," You mumbled angrily. You glared at him. 

  He tapped the table. 

  "I request a rematch, with me." 

  Tomoe poured another cup of sake. 

  Things were never as simple as you wanted them to be, huh? 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 4- An Apple Core's Cyanide Seed☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 1 6 8 4 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 14.01.2024    🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: where you go, akura-ou goes, and where he goes, trouble goes. TW: fires.

  The peaches were still aplenty. It was curious. It seemed that he took your words to heart, only taking a few a night. It was fascinating. He didn't seem like someone with much restraint. Did he... tolerate you? No, no, that was a preposterous thought. Probably just planning and plotting to kill you and desecrate your corpse. 

  Enough idiocy. Today you had decided to venture down to a festival in the second nearest town. 

  The journey there was annoying but wasn't the worst thing you've had to endure. 

  You dawned a white kosode, right side over left. From up in the hills the town seemed to be bustling, but now it was a ghost town, and you were the ghost, floating and floating all alone in foggy air. At this rate, you could've stayed in your house and gotten the same experience with fewer leg cramps. 

  A wind blew by. You tensed. Peaches. Iron. Petrichor. And a hint of charred wood. It reminded you of...

  "Humaaaan!" Long, toned arms were thrown around you roughly. You gasped, reaching up to stop him from choking you. He didn't. You frowned. What the hell was that? That was the scariest hug ever. Felt like a chokehold for a moment. Actually, several. 

  "What the hell are you doing here?!" You seethed as you pulled at his arms. 

  Akura-ou let go of you lazily. 

  "I'm here to see if there are any pretty girls in town," He said, placing his hands on his hips. You scowled. You liked him better from afar, like a fireplace. Nice to look at, painful to touch. Well, not that good to look at. It also hurt. He hurt all around, his garish nature blinding. 

  You heard shuffling throughout town as though it had suddenly woken up. Much like bugs under a rock. 

  You reached a hand behind him, snapping your fingers on the other hand which he gingerly followed with his eyes. You wished you had your dagger. 

  "Did you follow me?" You whispered as people gathered around you. 

  "Maybe you followed me, human." Akura smiled, looking at your displeased, sharp eyes. 

  You retracted your hand. 

  The villagers came up to you, old and young, the young anxiously jittery, the old bowing their tired backs. You gazed at them, unimpressed.

  "Thank you for banishing the oni, oh great priest," They said, bowing, none coming too close. They didn't register Akura-ou's presence. His face twisted in a mix of confusion and agitation. 

  "You're welcome. Now let me pass, you're hoggin' the air," You remarked, turning to them briefly as a lock of your updo fell over your eye. 

  They bowed, scattering towards their business, the small stalls filling up. The scent of food and incense filled the air. It was becoming louder, but it was still rather quiet. A festival, close to Obon. 

  "The first time the last of the priests comes here in ages," You heard briefly. Something about human gods and sorcerers, magic, exorcism. Boring. You hummed in displeasure. You strayed from the main path in town, choosing to wade through empty alleys. 

  "Eh? Why didn't they run off when they saw me?" Akura grumbled lowly. 

  "Because they didn't see you. I placed an ofuda on your back to make you invisible." You pointed to his back. He twisted around, reading the ofuda. It read "air". 

  "You are too flashy and inhuman to blend in. The girls will run when they see you." You ran your hand along the wooden houses. 

  "Run to me," He corrected smugly.

  "From you. You're plain awful. Any human would run if they were in their right mind." 

  "You didn't." He leaned down. 

  You laughed hollowly, eyes closing as you flashed your teeth. Your laugh came to a halt, voice low and with a tired rasp. 

  "I said if they were in their right mind."

  You side-eyed him. He didn't wear his coat this time. Only the mesh shirt you had stabbed through and a layer of shiny gold necklaces, and dangly earrings. They swung with each one of his broad steps. 

  You stopped at the corner, leaning on the house. You pointed to a girl with glossy hair and a face like a doll. She was well dressed in a kosode with a chrysanthemum print. 

  "She's pretty. Maybe you should unlatch yourself from me and follow her around," You suggested. 

  Akura shrugged, flicking his hair and tilting his head to the side.

  "No, not my type." His ears lowered. 

  You hummed in deep, deep disappointment. You clicked your tongue.

  "What a pity." 

  You bought food from a stall, giving more coins than needed, and packing the food. 

  "Are you going to eat that?" Akura-ou nagged. 

  "I don't like eating in public." You averted your eyes. 

  "Just turn yourself invisible too. Big deal." He waved a hand. You raised a brow. The smell of the food was savory and tempting. 

  "I doubt I can hide myself from you." 

  "Why hide from me? I'm great!" He tugged on your shoulder. Thankfully if he touched you, no one saw you, so you didn't look like you were pulled by an unseen force. 

  "Where are you- dragging me! You fiend!" You spat, slapping away his claw. He stared straight ahead. You followed his line of sight. A stall full of alcohol. Something dark twisted at your stomach. Not hunger, not fear. Dread and craving were more of a fit.

  "I'm not drinking with a weird guy in a mesh shirt. A weird yokai in a mesh shirt? That idea's dead in the water." You hugged your waist, your shoulders raised tensely. He smiled unnaturally. 

   "Your loss." 

  You had never seen someone drink so quickly. It was like there was no bottom to his stomach. Because there wasn't. It was a void, a vacuum of alcohol. You blanched at the sight. You silently crept away, coming up to a stall with jewelry. They had a multitude of necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. You eyed the necklaces. One was of a knife much like your dagger. Maybe you'd commission a necklace with a mini replica of your dagger. So even if an insufferable jerk stole the real thing, you'd have something to remember it by besides your unreliable memories. 

  You picked out a rather pretty set with flowers. Sakura. It was criminally underpriced and you had to reverse haggle with the seller, a nice old woman with brown hair and eyes.

  You left, creeping away.

  "Trying to ditch me?" 

  You jumped, covering your mouth. 

  Akura-ou again. 

  "You must have something better to do." You avoided looking at him. 

  "How 'bout checking in on your kitsune friend for a change?" 

  The wind blew by. It was surprisingly cold, raising goosebumps on your skin. Akura looked fine. Even after so much alcohol, he was fine. 

  "You know Tomoe?" 

  Tomoe? That was his name? 

  Curious. The surprise was evident on your face as you slowed your steps. 

  "I saw him a few times." Correction- you saw him each morning, yet you felt like if you told Akura, he would freak out. You'd freak out. You were freaking out. Always. 

  "A few times?! He can never mind his business!" Akura barked, rolling his golden eyes. 

  "Neither can you," You muttered.

  "There's a brothel over there. Go there, maybe it'll help you... to leave me alone..." You whispered the last part as quietly as you could. 

  Akura looked to the brothel. His black lips were downturned. 

  "I'm bored here." He sounded like a bratty child. You blinked. Why were you even entertaining him? Sure he could kill you any second, but you might as well ignore him until he tries to. 

  You turned away and kept walking. You would be heading home after a few more stops. The reverence the villagers held for you sickened you and brought back unpleasant memories. 

  "Oi! Human! You hear me?" He rushed after you. 

  You kept walking, breathing in the fresh air yet untainted by his dark energy. 

  "This isn't funny." 

  You studied the architecture silently. 

  "What if I set something on fire?" 

  You shooed a butterfly away from your kosode. 

  "I'm going to kill someone. Who should it be? That old man? Or the little girl?" He said, forcing a villainous tone. 

  You stepped over a pebble.

  He huffed loudly. 

  You wondered if Maeda still sold baskets. His house was nearby. You could get some, splurge a little. Which was a depressing thought. A pitiful sign that you were getting old. 

  A glint caught your eye. A bright red one. 

  A fire broke out in a few stalls around you, the flames growing and flickering like blossoms in the wind. Your eyes widened. 

  You grabbed his wrist. He avoided your gaze now.

  "Stop this buffoonery! You're going to get someone killed-" Your heart thumped, fear setting in deep within you, an all too familiar fear of watching everything burn down to the ground. 

  You hadn't realized it until the first tear dropped. You were crying. Akura ou's expression betrayed his surprise. More powerful than any magic were human, stupid human emotions. 

  The fire faded. 

  You wiped your tears. They felt like blood on your hands as you stared into nowhere with static in your head. 

  "Human?" His voice rumbled from behind red locks. 

  You blinked away tears, searching for his eyes. Your vision was blurry.

  "What's your name?" He whispered.

  You said your name as quietly as you could. The wind blew, and it was surely whisked away. 

  You blinked away the last of your tears, shaking your head. 

  In front of you stood nothing but empty space, and your "air" ofuda was attached to your chest. 

  You didn't look at the charred stalls. You marched straight home, invisible and absent, your mind in the clouds and feelings in the doldrums. 

  That night no one showed. 

  You didn't know what to feel or think. 

  You cried in your sleep, and there was no one but your bed to wipe them away. 

  Little did you know, that there was someone who watched, all night, without touching a thing, besides a single peach. 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 3- A Rocky Heart For Breakin' Teeth☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)   • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 7 9 9 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 07.01.2024    🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: tomoe taunts you and you debate your life decisions. TW: alco hol, mention of alcoho lism-like behavior, brief discussion of de ath. 

The morning sky was a marble of golds, pinks, and soft blues. 

  Before getting to work on your poem about sadness and roses, as one does, you went out for peaches. 

  You hesitated before you even left the door. Your hand tightened around your wrist. 

  You'd take the plums instead. 

  The fog was deeper that morning. The peaches were untouched. 

  Perhaps, you weren't so much mad at the act of the peaches being taken, but by the lack of consent. You had more peaches than you could eat. If he had asked from the start, there would be no issue, more so an issue solved. No rotting peaches would litter the ground unappealingly. Yokai were the worst of the worst, but if they didn't touch you, it'd be bearable. Would it? 

  You missed your dagger. When you checked your hip, your hand closed around empty space. It left you feeling empty inside too. 

  The dagger was undoubtedly a thing you didn't want anyone taking- even after your death. You wanted to be buried with it at the very least. You'd want to find it even in your next lives.

  You tucked a basket under your arm as you unlocked your door. 

  No tracks in the ground. 

  You ripped plums from the tree with minimum resistance, the plums squeaking against your skin and thumping against the basket. With your basket full enough you wandered along your territory. You stopped at the large sakura. More petals had fallen. Was it diseased? 

  You surveyed the branches. All seemed well until a pair of violet eyes met yours. You gripped your basket tighter. Yokai had a habit of stealing things from you. Especially now. 

  The kitsune sat on a sturdy branch, flicking his tail, ears perked up and hair blowing in the breeze ethereally. He seemed utterly immaterial, as thin like the fabric of his kosode, as light as the fan held in his hand, as mysterious as the look in his squinting eyes. 

  "Are you taunting me?" You called, your eyebrows lowering and stance defensive. 

  The light outlined his form softly. You were sure if you'd touch him, he'd disappear. 

  "Is it working?" He asked with amusement. A sinister smile reached his eyes, which some would call pretty. You'd call them trouble.

  "Quite." Your nails dug into your palm. Your feet were pressed so hard into the ground they could've grown roots. 

  As much as you knew ignoring him would've been better you couldn't win over your own stubbornness. 

  "Are you gonna keep that dagger?" 

  He fluttered his fan. 

  "Why do you ask? It's only some knife. You humans are materialistic." He hummed. He lowered his fan, flashing a smile. 

  "Get a new one." He leaned on his lithe hand. 

  Your lip twitched. 

  "I can't "get a new one"! That was important to me!" Your voice rose, anger burning inside your chest and up to your face.

  You took a pebble and threw it at his leg. It hit him, and he hissed, eyes wide with surprise. He didn't have time to get angry as you yelled once more.

  "You yokai are pathetic! You say we're materialistic?! Look at you in your pretty clothes! You look like a damn emperor!" You could feel your voice crack and your face heat up unbearably. 

  The kitsune clutched his leg silently. For a second, it seemed like he was sorry.

  His brows lowered. 

  "How rude," He grumbled. 

  Well, there went your spark of hope. You should expect less of spirits after all you've lived through, but you were stubborn through and through. And a tad stupid. Aren't we all? Ah, the plight of a human. 

  You put down the basket of plums. 

  You cracked open some plum wine from last year. You drank quickly. It was hailed as medicine, but you weren't drinking to heal. You were drinking to destroy. 

  It felt like stale water with how much you drank of it. You needed something stronger. 

  You stood in your kitchen as you cut up food for yourself patiently. The wine tingled at the back of your throat. 

  Night fell as did you into your bed. 

  You waited until you couldn't breathe to flip over. Life at the farm was truly thrilling. And your plants- how talkative. Life of the damn pity party. 

  You were delighted when you noticed the familiar shuffling outside. You hated to admit it, but it made you feel something other than the flat numbness that the farm evoked. It was an escape from pain to a placid buzz of mediocrity. You wondered if you could find something more exciting. 

  You heard steps. A flash of gold graced your window. Your agitation turned fear had turned into amusement with the creature. 

  You wondered how long he'd keep up with the visits. 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 2- Hidden Underneath☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 7 0 4 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 31.12.2023     🌧  navigation 🍑 previous chapter 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. • c h a p t e r s u m m a r y: a new visitor appears in your garden. TW: Mentions of lurking/stalking/trespassing.

It had been a week since the incident. It felt like much more, somehow. Probably because he was there, each night, picking a peach or two, eyes and earrings shining golden, staring at you. You had begun having nightmares nightly, and it was hard to tend to your farm. Of course, you tried your hardest, shoving those fears down. One night the oni lurked too close to your door and you threw soybeans at him. If you get mean, you get the bean. 

  You were out at sunrise, the mist settling on various plants. The peach blossoms looked beautiful. None had been touched. 

  You sat under a large sakura as you polished your dagger. Such a peaceful moment. The early morning had always been soothing, unlike the harsh nightfall. 

  But without the bitter sunset, there would be no sweet sunrise; there was a price for all beautiful things. 

  A white shape sat at the edge of the forest. A ghost? Ah, no, a beautiful white fox. A rarity. 

  The dreaded. 

  The horrid. 

  The death sentence. 

  The night. 

  Woe is you. Good luck dealing with a lurker.

  The sun set and the moon rose, and you didn't dare to look outside. You checked your hip, and while the scars from claws were there, your dagger wasn't. Panic set in quickly and you turned over every object in your house. 

  Nothing. You screamed silently. 

  You must've left it outside. 

  You hung your head. If you were quick, maybe he wouldn't notice? You took the beans... just in case. 

  You quickly dashed to the sakura, relieved that no one was there. 

  And neither was your dagger. 

  You wanted to break the damn tree. You breathed in deeply and breathed out. 

  "Stay calm. It's fine. It's probably somewhere around here..." You pinched your nose bridge. 

  "Indeed it is." 

  You froze. It wasn't Akura ou's voice. It was a tad higher and calmer. Almost monotone. You weren't turning around, last time that didn't go well, and now you didn't have your dagger. You swore internally.

  The person behind you turned you around. Their touch was gentle and well-orchestrated.

  His hair reached his hips. It was a pristine white. Like snow. He wore a loose and long kosode with a chrysanthemum pattern. He held your dagger. 

  "Is this yours?" He turned the dagger over, purple eyes studying the sheath. He had a fox tail and fox ears. You frowned. You nodded. He held onto the dagger. He circled you. 

  "So you're the one Akura ou has been visiting..." He raised his head. He looked down at you. His tail twitched. 

  "He has been terrorizing my peach trees," You stated simply. 

 He stopped behind you. 

  "Are you going to kill me?"

  "No." He answered simply. "I'm not like him." 

  "I figured." You gave him a glance.

   He leaned down to you, tilting your head with his perfectly manicured hands. He rose a brow languidly. 

  "What does he see in you?" He mumbled. 

  "Nothing, he's here for the peaches, I tell you. Check the tree bark." 

  He retracted his hand, gazing over to the trees. His eyes studied the scars left by distinct claws in the bark. You didn't see a thing, but he did, perfectly. His eyes were set on you once more. 

  "Peaches? Really?" He asked flatly, ears lowering. 

  You crossed your arms. 

  "I ask myself the same," You whispered. "Can you ask him to leave?" You fidgeted with your sleeves. A true wildcard of a question, which after it left your lips, you regretted asking. The kitsune didn't react. He flicked his tail. 

  "I doubt that the likes of him will be swayed by my words." Petals of the sakura fell from the strong wind. "I'm not going to help you, human. I could care less if he tore you to shreds." He caught a petal and incinerated it with blue fire. You flinched. 

  At least you tried. 

  "Try not to anger him. I'll be watching you." 

  He disappeared. 

  You didn't get your dagger back. 

  You didn't get his name. 

  That night, Akura-ou didn't show, and even if you had slept better, a part of you, a horrid little sliver, wished he had been there to take a peach. 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ☂️ Peach Pit, 1- A Hanging Branch In A Garden's Home☂️ ⛈

• (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 2 0 1 0 w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 24.12.2023    🌧  navigation 🍑 next chapter • s u m m a r y: you're a peaceful farmer in the mountains during the sengoku period. someone starts stealing your peaches, and the thief turns out to be a chaotic oni, and the events that ensue flip your life upside down. TW: St abbing described vaguely, de ath.

 

You tapped your foot so hard your floor creaked. You dearly wished it would break so you'd have something to do as you waited by the window like a lonesome dog. 

  The sun lowered gently over mountains cascading with vivid greenery, no houses in sight, only your farm, your plum trees, sakura trees among other plants, and your peach trees. They were in bloom and many delicate pink flowers had already turned into peaches. 

  You stared at the empty spots where the peaches would've been and at your empty basket. Some peaches remained on the tree, plump and fresh. 

  You frowned. You hummed deeply. You heard a crack. You leaned down to the floorboards which had finally burst. You laughed lowly. 

  As twilight colored the sky with deep purple streaks, you patched up the floor. Your legs and ass numbed as you sat there, scrunched up. You scrutinized the floor. God awful. It would have to do. 

  You rushed to the window. 

  The moon rose, switching shifts with the red sun. You inhaled the stuffy air of your house, incense, and wood. You lit a lamp with a shaky hand. As much as you didn't want to light it, you wanted to see.

  Your eyes felt dry, and you slumped near the window. Maybe just a nap... 

  There was a little flash of light, flickering over your eye. You groaned. 

  "Five more minutes, Mom..." You rasped. Your eyes snapped open. Idiot, you lived alone in the woods! 

  You squinted through the twilight light- lack thereof, truly. Was that a hallucination? That wouldn't have been out of the ordinary. You glazed your eyes over your house. The floorboards were still a mess. Ink and paper were on your table. A half-eaten piece of bread. All was in order. The bell over your door was silent as a  grave. 

  You fixed your kosode, right side wrapped over left as always, the silky fabric like white moonlight. You checked your hip for your dagger. It was firmly planted there. 

  You exited your house. 

  The bell rang, and your various charms against evil and spirits rattled, hanging from almost every crevice of the exterior of your house. You closed the door. 

  Many of the peaches were missing. 

  It was like a fucked up version of fishing but on land. And what you found, you weren't going to eat. But you might have had to kill it. 

  You breathed in fresh air. 

  You stopped breathing suddenly. Unbridled fear spread through you like blood through snow. You whipped around. 

  You couldn't hear a thing over your heartbeat and ringing in your ears. You reached for your dagger. Your eyes widened. Warm air emanated from your right. 

  You spun around, striking the person. 

  Person wasn't the right word. Neither was striking. Though he was. 

  Before you stood someone inhumanly beautiful. His mischievous eyes, seemingly lined by charcoal, his black lips stretching over shark teeth, long pointed ears, and ivory horns jutting out from his crimson hair betrayed his spirit nature in no time. 

  Your mouth was slightly agape. 

  His arm, clad in a coat of feathers and leather far too pristine, stopped your dagger inches away from his chest. He needed to put in little effort to stop you, no matter how much you pushed. 

  He wore a mesh shirt. You could've made a joke about how he was a fish due to the net, yet you were too preoccupied with his boots. The only thing that was stained on him, stained with something dark. 

  He had no weapons. How odd. 

  Your eyes shot to his hand. He had black claws sharper than his razor teeth. That explained things. 

  You met his eyes. You squinted through the shadows. No need, for his eyes shone like fire. 

  "Peach thief!" You spat, stepping back and aiming the dagger at where his heart could've been. 

  He laughed deeply, inclining his head towards you. Sanguine strands spilled over his shoulders. His earrings sparkled. 

  "I didn't know a human lived here," He said, more so to himself. He leaned forward, chest pressed against the tip of the dagger. As a bead of blood fell, he smiled, staring at you. 

  "You must be some crazy hermit to live in the forest," His voice was smooth and sweet. 

    You frowned. 

    "Get off my property." You blinked at him. 

  The corners of his lips dipped. 

  "And never take my peaches again." You twisted the knife. It seemed to annoy him rather than hurt him. If he was so unbothered by pain, he must've been some sort of special yokai. As much as one part of you was curious, the other wanted to sleep... without a red-headed peach-snatcher in your yard. 

  "I can take whatever I want." He practically skewered himself on the knife as his face neared yours. 

  "Then take this-" 

  You thrust the dagger into his chest, twisting, and pulling it out. He stared at his chest in bewilderment. You watched as his skin healed over in seconds. Your arm trembled with fear. 

  He pulled at his mesh shirt. 

  "Human! You ruined my favorite shirt!" He barked. 

  You pointed to the trees with the bloody dagger. You now noticed the messy claw marks on the bark.

  "Oni, you ravaged my trees!" You barked back. 

  "Oni?! I'm the great Akura-ou!" He gloated, placing a hand on his chest. 

  It was now almost fully dark, and the scene must've been ridiculous. 

  "I could burn your farm to the ground, and you with it," He remarked flippantly. You hummed, gesturing to the area. 

  "And yet you didn't. All talk and no action. How pitiful." You sighed, getting bored. You'd heard that name once, didn't you? Hell knows, there were more yokai out there than stars in the sky. 

  "You're pitiful! In fact-" 

  You squealed as you were lifted, dropping your dagger as Akura-ou held you under your arms, holding you like a child. Your face burned as his nails dug into your sides. You gripped his forearms. 

  "Put me down!" You yelled, squirming. 

  "No! You're coming with me, crazy human," He snarled, tucking you under his arm. He picked up a peach and bit into it. You groaned, hanging your head. 

  "Put me down, you're hurting my ribs," You complained through grit teeth. 

  "Don't care." He bit into the peach. 

  "I'll bite you if you don't!"

  He chortled and you felt his voice resonate through you. 

  "Good luck chewing through the leather." 

  You chomped to no avail. You didn't give up, pushing into his ribs and thrashing around. He released an agitated "UGH" and hauled you up in front of him using one arm, positioned under your backside. Your heart fluttered. You looked down at him. He bit into the last piece of the peach, with the peach pit.

  "Break a tooth," You whispered with half-lidded eyes. 

  He crushed the peach pit and swallowed it. You stared at him, pulling his horn, at which he stuck out his tongue. 

  ...

  Truly, a monster. 

  Fog enclosed you. You shut your eyes. 

  When you opened them once more, you were met with a different world, a world that you guessed was... the other side. Your heart hastened, your limbs cold from shock as you looked around. 

  The air didn't move, there was no wind, no smells. The air was as dry as could be, and it stung your nose and eyes.

  "Scared?" He whispered into your ear. You shuddered. 

  "You wish." You whispered, pulling away. He dropped you harshly. You gasped as you barely caught yourself before you were about to eat shit. 

  Akura ou walked away with his long legs, forgetting about you. You ran after him. 

  "Thief! Why'd you bring me here?!" 

  He grabbed your wrist, pulling you along. His nails dug into your wrist like thorns, hand suspiciously soft. Around you scattered ugly spirits of every shape and size, one-eyed, gaunt, faces like abhorrent driftwood. 

  None looked at you, none dared, the few unable to control themself glaring only at your rude companion. 

  He stopped at a shabby stall with a yokai behind it. Akura ou leaned on the counter, the other yokai cowering.

  "Give me all you've got, or you're dead." He smiled, eyes dark and posture slack, grip on your wrist unwavering. You looked from him to the seller to the red and black sky. You had nowhere to run. The guy was your only definite way out. 

  You hoped the lamp you lit in your house wouldn't burn it down. That would be much dumber than a fabulous chicken burning it down after you insulted his peach-stealing practices. 

  The yokai stayed silent. Akura ou swiped his claws, and you heard a thump. 

  Your heart sunk. 

  Though he seemed happy. He pulled you away to an alleyway and ended up near a town square with a tower. 

  "See that?" He pointed to it, leaning down to you. He made a sweeping motion, and a whirlwind passed through the buildings, the tower collapsing. You stood motionless. 

  "Wasn't that fun!" He laughed, hugging your shoulders. You grumbled. 

  "I've seen better." You turned to him with a sharp look. He glared at you owlishly. 

  "Suit yourself, but I'm not bored yet." He huffed. 

  After much walking, and your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, you were stopped by a group of demons. They looked brutish, stained with blood, and armed. You scoffed. 

  "Master Akura ou! It's so great to see you here," Stammered a small, furry yokai with boar teeth. 

  The critters kept praising him, and no matter how many times he told them to shut up or move, they wouldn't budge. 

  He grasped the head of one with his hand, crushing his head with ease. His boots were splattered with dark blobs.

  Akura turned his head to you. 

  "I could've done that any time, human. How's that for action?" He whispered, smiling. 

  The creatures ran. Your eyes could barely focus on his stupidly pretty and horrific face, that too-wide smile and unsettling eyes. 

  You threw roasted soybeans at Akura's face. He hissed, recoiling. 

  "Have your damned peaches, just get me out of this hellhole!" You yelled. 

  "Where'd you get that?!" He clutched his face, eyebrow twitching. You pulled a small sachet from your kosode. He knocked it to the ground and you couldn't be bothered to do a thing. 

  He grabbed you roughly, leaving deep marks on your hip, distracting you from the pain in your legs. 

  Everything was shrouded in fog, and when it cleared up, you were back to your farm. You would've collapsed if not for Akura's death grip on you. He gave you an unnecessary squeeze and held you for a tad too long before letting go. You caught your breath, leaning on your knees. 

  "Take as many peaches as you like. But be careful." You stood up with a crack, steeling your nerves and attempting to spot your dagger. It was too dark to see. At least your house wasn't on fire, eh?

  He crossed his arms. 

  "Why?" 

  "Because if you destroy the trees, there won't be any more peaches." 

  He tilted his head. You practically saw the thoughts play out in his head as he pondered. 

  "I don't promise a thing." He shrugged, disappearing. 

  You stood there like a fool, with holes in your clothes and glassy eyes. 

  You gave up on the dagger, shuffling to your house. The lamp was off, the floorboards were messed up. You released a dramatic sigh, standing in front of a window as you took off your clothes, changing into something else and cleaning the scrapes on your hip. 

  You lied down in your bed with an uneasy feeling. 

  You wouldn't let Akura ou take your peaches. Why would an oni need peaches? Why were you asking after what you'd just seen in the past hour? Why were you gripping the sheets? You closed your eyes. 

  Tap tap. 

  A flash of light and a pair of eyes. 

  You shot up in panic. The window was empty, as well as your room. You panted, lying back down. 

#akura-ou x reader #tomoe x reader #akura ou/reader #akura-ou x reader x tomoe #kamisama hajimemashita #w r i t i n g #☂️ #k a m i s a m a k i s s

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Mall Emo, Mall Time, Mall Crime!☂⛈

 • (human!Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 2 1 0 3  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 04.10.2023     🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: what do you do when the cashier at a store is a dick? cheese it!

You couldn't wait to see Marshall again. Even though you had seen him a few days ago, you couldn't help but brim with happiness at the thought of seeing him again. You felt electrified, no matter how dumb that sounded, it was exactly how you felt. You smudged on dark eyeliner, pulled on your skinniest jeans, decked out your wrists with enough bracelets to cut off circulation, and wrapped one too many belts around your hips.

Two to be exact.

When you saw Marshall you practically strangled his waist with your grip. He sighed and hugged back.

"Are you trying to kill me or are you just happy to see me?" He said, strained. You pulled back enough to see his face. His beautiful, otherworldly face, his piercings, and his relaxed, dark eyes, which had a red undertone.

"I am never letting you go," You mumbled as you embraced him one more time before pulling away.

"Way to break a promise." He laughed, raising his brows and walking by your side to the entrance of the AAA Mall, one of the only malls around.

"I meant that in a more… metaphorical sense." You shrugged with a smile. Even the annoying mall, with all its lights and people and sounds, couldn't make you upset around Marshall. You were low-key obsessed with that man. In a mostly healthy way.

You walked through the mall, having been there quite a few times before. Why meet in a mall? There wasn't… a particular reason. It was one of the only notable places around. Sometimes you got food there that was edible. The vibes were okay, and Marshall liked staring at the Gridsound displays from time to time. Now that you thought of it, that was the biggest reason.

The AAA Mall wasn't crowded most days either, and you two, both unemployed artists, went there on the dead days- Monday through Friday. When the stores were a relative ghost town. That suited your sensory and human sensitivities. Nothing was worse than people staring at you. Besides the dry sound of dry skin on extremely dry paper, or nail filing. It felt like the sound itself filed down on your teeth. You never quite figured out why people stared. Was it your fashion? Were people that bored? Theorizing was useless. All it did was make you more anxious.

You looked up at Marshall. When you just started hanging out, he asked why you were looking at him like that, but eventually, he accepted that at times you stared like a cat at the nearest object. He was understanding, and whenever you needed some help, he was there. He was a good guy. A little bit of trouble, but you were too, and that was fun.

"It's cold in here. I can feel my blood turning into ice cubes…" You shivered, speeding up your pace as you looked around at blank mannequins and generic posters of conventional-looking white people. The embodiment of salt as seasoning.

"Hm?" Marshall blinked, glancing at you. "I think it's fine." He slipped his hand into yours, and you gasped.

"I'm convinced you're cold-blooded," You murmured, his hand cool and dry, his black nail polish chipped under your fingers.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" His calm voice was not suited for the absurdity of that phrase.

"Dude… why the hell would you ask me that?" He feigned immense devastation at your sound question.

"So, you wouldn't?" He stopped, giving you the saddest look.

"You should've been a darn actor…. of course I would. Now let's move, my something is about to fall off." You pulled him behind yourself gently. You passed by a breakfast diner called Kingdom. Not even. Their pancakes were super soggy.

Every store was a carbon copy of the next and the last, clothes so blank they were fit for a pharmaceutical ad. Warning- buying these clothes might be deadly. You'll die of boredom. Unless you only wear a shirt and nothing else. You know what they say, public indecency is a fashion statement! For the record nothing is wrong with being basic; it's fun to make fun of capitalistic copycats which probably don't even let their workers pee in a bottle, all for an off-white cardigan fit for a widow cosplay. You could even get a handkerchief in the pharmacy nearby.

Marshall slowed and you both marveled at the display- the store. Electric guitars with glossy, colorful, and rich exteriors, mics that cost as much as two pairs of eyeballs on the black market. The store was also filled with various tech. The interior was red and orange, covered with a checker pattern. No one was inside, only the cashier. They were taking a nap on the counter. Soft music played on the speakers. The sign above the entrance flickered. "Gridsound", lit up by a warm glow.

Around the corner was one of the most interesting shops in the AAA Mall, which said something. Flame Topic, a huge corporation trying to make money off people with an alternative style, essentially the same widow cosplay repackaged in a leathery, dark package.

You passed by it as you waved to one of the clerks, a person you knew, Flamber. A funky name for a funky person who was much better than that store but didn't wanna be another unemployed hoodlum.

The store right next to it was an exceptionally empty craft store, Raggedart. The cashier had resorted to doodling in a sketchbook, seated between the aisles. He wore a frumpy, muted in color, messily stitched-together sweater. You turned your head to the side.

Gum & Dia. The owner was Dia Gumm Baldwin, an older woman who had as much scandal surrounding her as she did money.

You hated that store and all of its tacky fast fashion, but the belts seemed okay. Just the belts. You wandered around it, pondering if you should get anything. Marshall was encouraging, at times to fault, so you stayed quiet as you pictured your life with a particular pair of socks. Riveting stuff.

There were a handful of people in the store, and its open nature made you worried, your shoulders tensing and nails digging into your palms. A clerk in all green and a green hoodie over their head with spikes atop it spoke to a couple of customers, gesturing to another section of the store.

You stood closer to Marshall.

"The cashier is looking at me funny… they can't handle the autistic swag," You whispered. He chuckled.

After a lot of meandering around the store, you settled on some belts. Marshall didn't seem interested in getting anything, instead inspecting the enticing crap around the checkout as you paid for your crap, setting the money on the register.

The cashier, a woman with brown hair and a crazy look to her glared at you. She looked so mad you'd think she was staring at an arch-enemy of hers.

"That's not enough."

You dug through your wallet, but no matter how many times you counted the money, you couldn't get the number right, or you didn't have enough money, hell knew, by that point your brain was shutting down.

Your mind blanked, your heart filled with panic and nonsense. You shook, feeling cold yet hot, everything in your eyes blurring and time stopping yet going too fast at the same time. It felt like a nightmare- a nightmare where a tsunami was about to wash over you, and you stood stupid, frozen by icelava. The scenario? Entirely different. The feeling? The utter dread? The same.

You didn't only stand stupid, you felt stupid. You wished you could control it. Control the anxiety.

Marshall found your hand. You didn't react, hand limp and cold. You tried to ground yourself. You were floating off into nowhere mentally as the judgement of the customers and cashier built.

"Ugh, what a weirdo, how can it take so long to pay?" Said a person behind you in line. The person next to them snickered.

"Can you please move it? What, are you scared or something?" The cashier had an air of suffocating smugness about her, glaring at you. You searched for a shred of understanding in her face. She flicked a crumpled-up check at you, and you could only stare in horror.

"Probably one of those people afraid of the world. One of those "mentally ill" ones, you know, the ones seeking attention," Whispered one of the people behind you as though you didn't hear. Not like they have a shit if you did.

Marshall strained to not strum the cashier a new one, also standing like a deer in headlights. An all too familiar reaction to conflict from him. He leaned down to you.

"I'm not saying we should take the stuff and run, but, if you want to, we totally could," He whispered, standing up straight right after as if he hadn't said a thing to you.

Your eyes darted to the register. Your mind went fast, thinking of the pros and cons. It all merged into a big lump of panic. You were filled with feverish worry.

You grabbed the things, gripping them for dear life, running toward the exit as fast as you could. Marshall was nearly perfectly in sync with you.

You ran out of the store and the belts beeped loudly, security chasing after you. Your mind and muscles screamed at you, but you yelled over them.

"You're way too supportive!" You addressed Marshall. You glanced back. The guards were hot on your trail of petty theft. They pulled out their walkie-talkies and gave you icy looks from under deeply furrowed brows. Their thick black and white uniforms, making them look like penguins, slowed them down significantly.

"Sorry for being nice and great and the best," Marshall murmured with utter seriousness as you breezed past the front entrance and past to the parking and beyond. You turned around and around until you were far enough to catch a breather.

You both panted. Your heart burned with cold fire and you buzzed and shook with excitement.

"I don't even want these…" You blinked slowly at the belts in your hands, the post-shoplifting clarity hitting you like a Mitsubishi 3000GT VR-4 Spyder. Your panic had begun to ebb and it felt awful. Also like getting hit by a Mitsubishi 3000GT VR-4 Spyder.

Marshall looked down at what he had grabbed with even more confusion than you. He had grabbed random crap. A pair of chains with crosses and a black face mask with a cat on it.

"Neither do I care about this chain. Do you want it?" He asked unsurely. Your eyes sparkled. Shinies.

"I'll have that." You grabbed them out of his hands, dropping them into your pockets.

"I care more about those assholes judging us," Marshall sighed, leaning against a wall. You hummed and frowned.

"I don't get it, is it so hard to stay outta our business? Do I have a sign on my back saying JUDGE ME?" You raised your arms to the heavens.

"I sure didn't put one there," He replied with a mischievous tone. You huffed, glancing at him up and down.

"You wouldn't do that."

You looked at your back.

"It's true, I care about you. It's my dirty secret." He turned away, covering his face dramatically.

"Awww! You're rotten!" You shoved him ever so softly. He looked to the side.

"In more ways than one." You fastened the belts around your hips, tags still on. Marshall raised a brow, silently questioning your sanity. He should've done that when he met you. Too late now.

"If anyone questions me I'll turn them into protein powder." You smoothed out your clothes, crossing your arms.

Marshall opened his mouth. He closed it, giving a thumbs up and a shaky grin.

"Let's go to the City Of Thieves bar and then home." You stretched, walking. He followed without question. He tended to do that, especially if you were in a new place, he was like a lost puppy.

"Home?"

"My apartment." You glanced at him.

"Sounds good." He smiled softly, reaching his long arm around your shoulders.

You waited at the bus stop. The bus rolled in, coming to a slow halt. You got on and made your way to the last seat which was almost always empty. The bus was pretty empty too.

"I am not paying for this bus," You whispered to Marshall as you stared outside at the sunset. His grip tightened around your shoulders comfortingly, pulling you into him.

You could hear his smirk.

"Me neither."

#reader is autistic btw #idk why but i don't like this one #☂️ #a d v e n t u r e t i m e #w r i t i n g #marshall lee x reader #fionna and cake #marshall lee

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Strings☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 2 4 2 5  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 24.09.2023     🌧 navigation  ☔️ SEQUEL • s u m m a r y: marshall likes snooping around, and you like peace and quiet.

The rain fell on the grasslands of Aaa and surrounding areas. The animals in the forests hid under trees, candy citizens ran into bars, and Marshall Lee floated high off the ground. 

  He floated to the empty Tree House. The willow branches dripped with cold water and glistened like rhinestones. He tapped on the glass. No one answered. Adjusting his jacket and turning invisible, he let himself in, prying the glass up with his claws. It opened with a slight screech. He flew in, shaking the raindrops off his leather jacket. 

  The water dropped to the wooden ground. He looked up and flinched, turning visible as he was met with a figure on the couch in the kitchen. 

  They held a left-handed guitar made of bone, decorated with worn stickers. They held a pick shaped like a heart as they strummed out chords of Francis Forver, strumming the e-string angrily each time they messed up, concentrating so hard it was almost intimidating. 

  Marshall floated above them as he zipped up one of his pockets.

  You jolted up, stopped playing, nearly dropped your guitar, and with wide eyes watched as some guy appeared in front of you. 

  He had mint skin, black hair wet from the rain, black and red eyes you never got used to, and an expression that confused you. Maybe fear, or worry. You screamed, and he did as well. It was Marshall Lee- kind of a friend of a friend with whom you occasionally crossed paths.   

  Kinda a person you thought was mad cool, but not someone you were close with. 

  "What are you doing here?" He asked. His voice was calm and bordering on deep. You hadn't heard him speak much, and it was startling. 

  You raised a brow.

  "I could ask you the same question!"   You jabbed. 

  He floated down, eyes staring at your instrument.

  "Nice guitar." He bent over to inspect it. You pulled away. His tone was between mocking and impressed. Personal space breached, raise the grimace shields. 

  He was acting quite calm. You were, too. Internally, though, you screamed, your heartbeat wild, hands drumming on your thighs.

  "Um... thanks? Did Fionna invite you over?" You changed your posture from a slouch to the straightest and stiffest pose known to Aaa. Even your tone was stiff. You weren't a person who was comfortable with others around, often becoming a robotic, clumsy mess, and you were even worse with people you barely knew. Cool people you barely knew? Instant death.

  "Nope."

   Your face flashed with concern. Marshall wasn't... malicious, but he was trouble, and glob forbid he dragged you into some antics. Can't a guy practice some guitar on a rainy afternoon?

   "As LSP would say, I'm crashing." He shrugged casually.

  You strummed your guitar. It was still connected to your demonic amp. The amount of demons you had to fight to get that thing was crazy. But it was worth it. The sound was clear, the controls were precise, and it sounded otherworldly, especially with deadstortion. 

  He floated near you and nearly stood on his feet. The silence hung in the air as your eyes drifted around the kitchen. 

  "Mind if I try?" He spoke gently, far more soft compared to his usual sass. It could be something he put on in front of groups of people. Or maybe your deer-in-headlights demeanor was enough to make even him more careful. 

  Your eyes fell on him and you folded your arms, not before gesturing to the instrument swiftly.

  "Uh no, go ahead." You nodded and raised your shoulders, tense. 

  Marshall scooped it into his arms. It fit great. His long fingers spanned across the frets nicely. He had hands made for playing guitar, and that made you envious. Even with practice, you couldnʼt reach so far. He positioned himself, floating mid-air. 

  Your face was a mix of curiosity and surprise. 

  "No pick? Just... fingers?" You raised a brow, the words coming out faster than you thought. He laughed lightly, and you flushed. 

  "I'm good with them." You choked on air as you sat stiffly, stifling a nervous laugh. If you were flushed before, now all your blood was definitely in your awkward face. 

  He strummed and his long ears perked up at the sound. 

   "You're left-handed?" He bit the edges of his black lips, positioning his fingers. He didn't need to take so long doing all that. He was stalling. Curious.

  "Not quite. A dragon tore off one of my left fingertips, so I can't hold down the frets without gross pain," You rambled quietly as you rested against the red cushions.

  He played what was definitely, unmistakably Misirlou. You had to close your mouth at the speed of his wrist. Looking at that shit was enough to give your wrist a sprain. 

  He lifted his hands, holding the guitar loosely as he stared in your general direction expectantly. You cleared your throat. 

  "You seem good at left-handed playing. I've only seen you play right before." Marshall's expression flashed disappointment for a second before returning to a chill one. 

  "I've had a thousand years to learn, if I couldn't play either,  that would be embarrassing." He smiled. Damn, that guitar suited him... 

  "Same with money... imagine being poor after like a thousand years..." You tapped on the table, lost in thought, partially about vampires, but mostly about a vampire. 

  "I can't, I own half of Aaa and my mom is the ruler of the Nightosphere. I used to own this Tree House!" He motioned to a part of the tree, and objects lifted to reveal an M carved into it. 

  "I remember that. I wasn't there but I heard about it." You nodded. 

  "Guess you've heard a lot about me?" He lifted his brows. 

  "Quite a- oooh. I get it." 

  "Get what?" A grin tugged at his lips.

  "That wasn't an actual question, was it?" You squinted up with a smug expression. 

  "Wow. Pretty and smart. Package deal," He said with the perfect delivery- just the right amount of casualness for the line to be missed unless you were paying attention. And you indubitably were; you dearly hoped he didn't notice and you came off as cool and mysterious. Your flush and rigidity betrayed your discomfort. 

  Marshall passed you your guitar, and you leaned on it with your elbow, brushing hair away from your face as you looked around the room, searching for something interesting. 

  Dishes. Fridge. Your shaky hands. Paintings. Tree bark. A bug in the corner. Inevitably, your eyes fell back on Marshall. Your attention jumped from his clothes to his hair, to his inhuman features. 

  "Why are you staring?" You blanched and your expression fell. You met his eyes. If you looked down you'd be even more suspicious. 

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Your eyes are...." You trailed off. Shit. You weren't looking at his globdamn eyes, but you weren't about to say "Nice cock, bro". 

  "Horrifying? Demonic?" You swore he floated closer to you. You recoiled, pursing your lips. 

  "Interesting."

  Good save, idiot.

  His arrogant little facade faded, replaced by tired disappointment. 

  "It's also interesting how you're already tall but still float."

  He shrugged.

  "Alright, I'll bite." He stood on the ground. You finally got a good look at his frame and height, and man was that good look good. Every part of him was long and slim, from his ears to his eyes and fingers, and who else knows what. You slapped yourself internally at the thought. 

   He sat down next to you, setting his right calf onto his left thigh. He inclined his head. 

  "Not literally." He flashed the tips of his fangs. He fished a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, turning to you and slicking back his drying hair.

   "You want some?"

  You grimaced. 

   "No. and you shouldn't smoke inside. And this shit is bad for your vocal health." The rain still raged on, yet it felt like a calming ambiance when in the comfort of the Tree House. 

  "Aww, come on. Just once," He beckoned sweetly, nearing your face, feigning demonic puppy eyes. You shook your head. He set them down on the couch, as well as a red lighter. So much of his stuff was red. It was like if you had everything made outta food. 

  "It's like murder. It's a slippery slope."

  You bounced your leg, checking your phone. You scrolled through your notifications. As empty as your heart. 

  "Sometimes I check my messages and realize just how bitchless I am..." 

  "Can't relate. I have lots of friends and messages...." He spread his arms over the backboard, gesturing in the air as his eyes wandered. He had a real soulful expression, as though he was speaking of glob itself. 

  Marshall dropped his arms, sighed, and frowned. 

  "Okay, yeah, I don't have anyone close to me. Sure I hang out with people but I'm kind of a loner," He admitted quietly, reminiscent of your insecure and anxious tone. 

  "You saw me earlier. I'm not much of a loner as much as I am a loser..."

  "That's where we're different. But together we make a lone loser." He gestured to his unbeating heart, speaking like a damn motivational speaker. You smiled. 

  "Perfect."

  A silence lingered. If not for the raging storm out, you would've heard the caw of a cyclops crow. 

  The silence turned strange as you made prolonged eye contact. Your proximity sent you into a fever. He didn't have any warmth- it felt like you had stolen all of it at once. 

  You tore your gaze away, opening up a portal with your pick and putting your guitar in. Marshall's eyes widened and he jerked in surprise. 

  "Where did that go?!" His voice strained against serenity. 

 "Uhhh I put it in its case. Between the Nightosphere-" You lifted your hand. 

  "The Nightosphere?" He interrupted with worry. 

  "-And the deadworlds. Let me finish." You readjusted yourself, unamused. 

  "Oh, I'll let you finish alright. Not like that. Are you finished?" 

  Your mouth was agape. 

  "You made that a lot worse than it was. Yes, I'm done." 

  You would never forget the awkwardness that plagued you throughout that whole interaction. It would forever be embedded in your cringing bones. 

  You browsed on your phone, refreshing your conversation with Fionna. No updates. Not even a bad meme. Sad. 

  Your arms rested on the table as you set your phone face down. You contemplated making tea. 

  "Why haven't we talked much before?"

  That was a difficult question. You braced yourself as you turned your head to him just a tad. 

   "Honestly? I was... afraid of you. Not because of the demon vampire thing," You quickly defended yourself. 

  "That's surprising..." Marshall mumbled.

  "Sorry." He raised his arms defensively. 

  "But because you're... I'm gonna sound stupid." You laid face down and laughed nervously, in sync with the drops hitting the windows. 

  "I doubt that. You're not Fionna." 

  The corners of your mouth tilted up, and you shot the vampire a dirty look. 

  "Shut up!" You laughed hollowly, surprised by his little joke. 

   He gave you a tight-lipped smile. 

   "You're cool, and I thought you were better than interacting with someone like me." The words did sound stupid coming out of your mouth. The thoughts were completely irrational. 

  "Someone with mutual interests and more to talk about than hacking monsters or angry exes?" He quirked a brow. 

  "I'm not trying to rationalize it. Also, I have plenty of exes to talk about." You raised your phone. 

  Marshall's face was practically begging you to not. 

  "Please don't."

   "Fine. You're safe. For now. One was a demon." You glared at a picture of them with you. He peeked over your shoulder. 

  "That's interesting...."

  "You said not to talk about it." You leaned on your palm, feigning disinterest. 

  "I take it back, come on! Don't leave me hanging," He asked desperately, ghosting his black claws over your now upright back. You shuffled away. 

  "You'll have to beg-"

  Your phone buzzed. You hummed with displeasure, reading the message right away. 

  "Glob. You gotta go, Fionna will be here soon," You urged as you stood up, straightening out your clothes and stretching as you paced around the room. Marshall paused for a second and decided to stand up. 

  "You're right. No fun getting caught." He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking to the window. You watched his movements carefully as he opened up the window, putting his foot on the ledge, and floating, defying gravity. 

  As he left, you were hit with a lot of. A lot. Just, a lot.  

  You put the kettle on the stove, sitting on the counter, relaxing, finally. 

  You had always... wanted to hang out with him, but, damn, you didn't think it'd happen. And he wasn't as intimidating as he came off! You felt all funny inside, still absolutely high off the adrenalin of it all. When you saw him appear it was like your body got restarted. 

  The water began to boil, and you poked at dry leaves of colorful tea. 

  You were surprised as Marshall flew back in. You didn't have time to process a thing. He observed you as you lounged with owlish eyes. He picked up his lighter and cigarettes. He hadn't looked away.

  "Forgot these." He glanced from the objects to you. He headed for the window again. He hesitated. 

  "These aren't tobacco, you know." 

  You raised your brows. He flew out as the front door rattled and Fionna and Cake yelled loudly. You waved to Marshall, only to see that he was gone, and the window was open. 

  You sat like a statue with a mystified gaze. 

  The kettle whistled and Fionna waved her hand in front of your face.

  Did you fumble or did you fumble hard? Maybe if you had taken the offer, something else would be ha...

  "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Cake frowned, poking your knee. You moved the kettle and Fionna turned off the stove. 

  "No, I saw a... yep, saw a ghost. A cool ghost," You replied breathlessly and somewhat robotically as you finally managed to focus on the two. You poured hot water from the kettle into your favorite mug. It had a cat on it. Dropping tea leaves into the water, you watched as the leaves seeped a bright ruby, and swirled with darker, near-black swirls. 

  Rain still poured outside, albeit it was far calmer than previously. You hoped Marshall was fine. 

  You held up two more mugs. You smiled awkwardly. 

  "Anyone want tea?" 

#☂️ #w r i t i n g #a d v e n t u r e t i m e #adventure time #marshall lee x reader #marshall lee

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Siren Song☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 1 2 7 1  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 17.09.2023      🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: you hear a voice singing while out exploring the woods. you go to investigate and find someone unexpected.

You huffed as you jumped down from a concrete block covered with vines, your hands meeting the dirt. It looked like it was about to rain, and the sun was on its way to set, its rays muffled by thick storm clouds. 

  You straightened out of your crouch nimbly. You fixed your comfortable adventure clothes. 

  You inhaled and relished as your lungs filled with oxygen-rich forest air. Birds chirped, crickets rehearsed their symphonies, a small orchestra hid by foliage, and the breeze caressed your skin gently. 

  It was a beautiful evening, and you walked through the clearing calmly. 

  A sound caught your attention. No, it wasn't a bird. It wasn't a bug. Neither was it a party or an animal. The sound was more like a voice. You quirked your brow as you squinted. 

  You tried to follow the sound, wandering through the forest. 

  Your hands met with the bark of ancient trees as you sighed. No dice. But you were curious, you wanted to know who it was that was singing so pleasantly. For a few moments, you continued to wander, and after what seemed like too long, the voice came closer. It felt like you just needed one more turn and you'd meet the singer.

  If that was a forest siren singing, they had you in their grasp, and you'd be siren food. 

  The breeze rustled your hair as you stopped at a small clearing with warm, dim fairy lights hanging on trees. Your breath hitched and your eyes sparkled with wonder. It didn't seem like the lair of a vicious beast. More like the lair of a hipster or something. 

  You walked out from the trees. 

  "Hello?" You asked an empty clearing. 

  "Hey," A smooth baritone said as a person with a guitar appeared, floating mid-air ahead of you. You stepped back. 

  "Woah!" You gasped as you took in his form. He had midnight black hair, strange, unnatural eyes, desaturated light teal skin, and... long, sharp fangs sticking out from his smirking lips. A vampire. With a sick guitar that looked like an axe. It was a bright crimson. He strummed it leisurely. 

  "What do you want?" He asked with an exasperated sigh, tilting his head, his eyes half-lidded. He addressed you as though you were an annoying door-to-door salesman. You crossed your arms awkwardly and studied his guitar, and his long, clawed fingers. The sleeves of his wine flannel were hitched up over long inhuman forearms. 

  "I heard you singing and decided to check it out. Thought you were a siren," You laughed lightly as you shrugged. He raised a brow. 

  "Your voice is nice," You complimented quietly. His gaze softened and he floated lower. His black bangs fell over his face. 

  "Thanks," He said humbly, a slight pink tinge to his face. "Have I seen you before?" He pointed at you, his other hand holding the neck of his instrument. 

  You hummed. 

  "Could be. I've seen you around, though. Marshall, right?" You pursed your lips. The breeze blew gently, carrying the scent of the vampire's vague cologne. 

  "Yeah, Marshall Lee," He floated so that it looked like he was laying down, his pointed ears poking out, and he played a few chords. "I think I've seen you at Fionna's parties." 

  You nodded, kicking the glass under your feet. 

  "Yeah, I just go to stand around all awkward. But it's fun seeing people have fun, I guess?" You raised your hands. 

  "You're human, right?" He studied your ears. His tone had a mocking aftertaste. More clouds rolled in as the sun set nearly fully, shrouding the cool forest in shadow, but the fairy lights lit the clearing up pretty nicely. 

  "Yeah, and I take it you're a vampire." You sat down on a piece of an abandoned fridge, hands on your knees. 

  "Vampire King," He smirked as he floated near your face and then swerved back and up, crossing his legs leisurely. You leaned forward, your face heating up a bit. The guy was mad charming. A mad charming “bad boy”, which spelled trouble for you and your friends whose ears you'd talk off about him later. If what you had heard about him was true, he was one. The most egregious "incident" was the time he dyed everything Gumball owned green. Even Gumball himself. Famously, Gumball hates green.

  Marshall was then banned from the Candy Kingdom. He was banned from many places. Even Cracker Barrel. You'd also heard he was a classic rockstar, and you know what that means. Drink, smoke, snort ring a bell? 

  "Fancy title for such a punk." You raised your brow with a challenge. 

  "I'm a multifaceted individual. Maybe you'd know that if you were one too." His expression feigned solemnity. The upturned corners of his black lips and tone gave away his teasing. His ears lowered. 

  "Psh, you've just met me, essentially, and you're in the globdamn woods, who cares what you've got to say?" You smiled, putting your hands on your hips. 

  His nose crinkled, and black-sclera eyes with vertical pupils bored into you. He held a serious silence. Now this act was believably pissed. So believable you were getting worried, and your expression turned to badly concealed fear. 

  He burst out in a mischievous giggle,  throwing his head back. 

  "Good one." He smiled with a slight darkness. Man, was he one confusing sexuality-defying vamp. 

  Droplets of rain dropped on the trees above you. His ears tilted up to the sound, and for a split second, he looked like a confused cat. 

  "It's gonna rain soon. And by soon I mean two minutes ago." You frowned as cool air hit your skin, freezing you to your core. 

  Marshall huffed through pointy teeth.  His pierced ears drooped in annoyance. 

 "I'd love to see you soaked and all, but I can't get my guitar wet. Wanna go somewhere else, cream puff?" 

  "That's the first good idea you've had as of recently," You muttered. You blinked. "W- cream puff? Soaked?" You stuttered, your voice losing every shred of confidence. 

  "That is what I said. Well done!" He gave you a thumbs up. Your mouth opened a little, your expression as if you were about to sneeze. 

  "You gonna keep calling me that?" 

  The grass rustled, taps echoing off the foliage. 

  "What do you think?" 

  You sighed. 

  A drop of rain hit your arm. 

  "I think we should hurry."

  Marshall adjusted his guitar, floating to you and poking your back. You flinched. Son of a witch...

  "I like what you're saying. Rare occurrence, isn't it?" He bit his lip and gave you a side eye as you walked- floated- through the forest, leaves shielding you from rain. 

  "I wish I could punch you." You shook your head. 

  "Why don't you?" He coaxed, dodging raindrops. 

  "Your face is the only good thing about you." You shrugged. 

  "Aww, what about my sick guitar skills?" He played a chunk of a solo full of hammer-ons and gob knows what. You sure as hell weren't looking at his guitar at that moment. 

  "Hm. They're good, I'm just kidding."

  You stepped over a turtle. The rain was beating down substantially. It hit the leaves loudly. Taps could be heard all over. It felt peaceful. 

  "I don't know if I'm kidding. But I'm not kidding when I say you're the hottest person I've ever met in a forest," He purred, raising his brows suggestively. Awful. Criminal. Jail.

  And after that, you felt a little less peaceful. You crossed your arms as you shot him a sharp look. 

  "Are you always like this?"

  He smiled, flashing his sharp teeth. 

  "You bet."

#w r i t i n g #☂ #marshall lee #marshall lee x reader #adventure time #a d v e n t u r e t i m e

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ★ Cold Comfort ★ ⛈

• (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: g e n e r a l a u d i e n c e s   • 4 7 6  w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 16.09.2023    🌧  navigation • s u m m a r y: marshall helps you calm down when your senses feel like they're conspiring against you. 

You paced around the room, shutting your eyes and seeing rainbow stars. You heaved, your breathing fast, uneven, and loud. The small cottage seemed…. cramped. Pushing on you. You ran to the kitchen. Suddenly everything felt too big. The feeling was like some sort of donked up Alice in Wonderland. You exhaled as you washed your hands shakily, throwing the towel. Your hands practically flew off their joints. You tensed and pushed your hands into the wall to gain some steadiness. You released a heavy sigh. Everything blurred as you jolted, pacing once more, like the arrow of a clock, twitching each second. You stared into nowhere. A state between overstimulation and sleep deprivation. A cusp, an unpleasant limbo. So exhausted you could pass out, yet too hyper to pass out. You couldn't be bothered to calm yourself, but couldn't rest either. It would take some kind of miracle for you to get anywhere. "Hey, you okay?" You whipped around, your hands shaking. Marshall. Your miracle. Alright, that was debatable, but to you, he was like a very large, very sassy emotional support cat. You stuttered some utter nonsense, gripping your clothes. He squinted and hummed, floating close to you. He saw your expression and wide, hollow eyes. He opened up his arms groggily. "Need a squoze?" He rumbled. You sighed and nodded. He morphed wings and scooped you up, holding you and shielding you from any sounds, smells, sights, lights, anything other than him and his feathery wings. He held you calmly, tight enough to be soothing, not tight enough to hurt you. Your breathing slowed and your eyelids grew heavy. You blinked with difficulty, your body relaxing into his. "Sleep?" He asked quietly. You hummed in approval. Your breathing and heart steadied, eyes shut. Finally, a semblance of relaxation washed over you. He flew up and it the sensation was practically imperceptible. Marshall set you down on the bed, pulling the blanket over you. "I love you," You mumbled from under the blanket as you cozied yourself into the mattress. Your muscles relaxed. You felt like jelly- in a good way. He floated, staring at you with red peepers. A funny word for entirely unfunny demon eyes. As your facial expression turned neutral and you seemed to still, Marshall kissed the top of your head gently, making sure he didn't nick you with his fangs. "I… love you, too," He said as quietly as he could, face a little stupid and a little awkward at the vulnerability. You smiled. "Softie…" Was the last thing you managed to mumble. Marshall would've blushed if he could. He rolled his eyes. He wrapped his arms around you and laid down. An uncommon occurrence prior to your arrival. You drifted into nonsensical dreams. The vampire's arms were cold, but still a comfort. A cold comfort, if you will.

#★ #a d v e n t u r e t i m e #marshall lee #marshall lee x reader #fionna and cake #w r i t i n g #adventure time

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ★ I've Bean There ★ ⛈

• (Queen Tiabeanie x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n  &  u p  • 7 7 7  w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 15.09.2023    🌧  navigation •s u m m a r y : after a hard... life, you unwind at your favorite tavern with a drink. you stay til closing time and a nice girl with weird teeth approaches you. 

   The tavern was quieting down, the streets outside shrouded in indigo shadows and filled by hacking, coughing, and screaming.    You swirled your drink around in its cup, watching as the shimmery liquid whirred into a whirlpool. The shimmer settled, falling to the bottom of the chalice like magenta snow. You drank, the alcoholic sweetness coating your throat.     At that point, it was only you and a few more patrons. A couple of older men discussing the morals of chickens, and a girl around your age drinking a frothy beer. It looked like it tasted pretty damn good. She glared at you, but when you noticed, she feigned indifference. You sighed, holding your chalice as you stared into nowhere, your bleary eyes half-lidded. 

  Like dust in water that stood out for too long, unpleasant feelings floated at the top of your mind and heavy worry prodded at your chest. For no reason, you felt like you were mauled by a bear from inside out.    There was a reason. A lot of reasons.    You sipped. The drink had warmed up and had turned slightly stale and that made you feel worse.    "What's wrong?" Asked a soft, youthful, and slightly muffled voice from your side. You nearly choked on your drink, gulping painfully and turning around to see the beer girlie, a stupid smile on her cute face. You blinked like an owl and avoided eye contact, staring at her freckles and white hair.    "Er, this is just my face." You pursed your lips and turned away. "Also, I've had a hard day," You explained plainly.    Her expression faltered with worry.    "Did a witch curse your beloved?"    You gave her a side-eye.    "I don't have a beloved."   You sipped your drink.   "Did a sorcerer turn you into a newt?"    You looked at her silently, gesturing to yourself. She laughed awkwardly.    "Oh, yeah, right."    She was intriguingly crazy.   "Did your evil parent try to make you join the dark side?"    You shook your head, and the two men, having agreed that chickens were out to get us all, headed out.    "Then... troubles at home?" She leaned her head on her hand, setting down her beer. Her goofy expression turned solemn.    "Yeah," You whispered.    "I've been there. I am there! Why do you think I'm at this tavern?" She gestured to the dark room. It was illuminated by warm candles. Candles- little bits of hell.    A flying scepter landed on the bar. The owner mumbled in dismay.    "Why do you think I'm at this tavern?" You retorted with no particular purpose, taking the last sip of your drink, the shimmer still stuck to the sides of the glass.    "'Cause... you like staring at interesting people? Thass what I do, anyway," She leaned back, flipping her wrist. She grinned drunkenly.   You restrained a smile and chortled faintly.   "You think I'm interesting?" You ran your hand over your frilly sleeves, meeting her grey eyes. She froze for a moment. "Well, yea, I mean who the hell orders a nightmare vodkatequila thrice in the span of an hour?" She laughed awkwardly, hugging herself. You felt your face heat up.    "Someone who's got nothing better to do, other than wallowing. But talking to someone is a nice change. Usually, people are scared off by my resting tormented face." You relaxed your face for a second. Her smile returned, and you found it easier to look up at her. She seemed nice enough, not like that guy who tried to steal your boots once.    "You look like my dad when I come home," She giggled, tucking her hair behind her ears frantically.    The owner of the tavern mumbled angrily, pointing to the exit. The girl downed her beer, set down the mug, wiped her lips, and stood up.    "See you tomorrow at nine, stranger!" She yelled as she stumbled out of the door, and it shut loudly.    Your previously tight chest felt light, and you couldn't stop smirking stupidly.    Walking back to your house through the shadowy streets, your cobblestone path lit up by moonlight and the occasional torch, you thought of her. You hadn't even caught her name, but she already knew when you attended the Flying Scepter, even though you were sure you had never seen her in the bar. She did seem familiar though. Awfully familiar.    As you passed a tapestry of the royal family, you halted, and your jaw hit the deepest pits of hell.   Between Queen Oona and King Zøg and behind Prince Derek, stood the girl you had talked with earlier. Holy shit- the Princess, Princess Bean, chatted you up? What in the kingdom?    Your journal would hear about that later...

#w r i t i n g #d i s e n c h a n t m e n t #queen bean #queen bean x reader #disenchantment x reader #disenchantment #queen tiabeanie #★ #i cant get rid of that one space sorry tumblr keeps showing me errors

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ★ Watermelon Face ★ ⛈

• (Marshall Lee x g/n reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n  &  u p  • 7 1 4  w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 13.07.2023    🌧  navigation • s u m m a r y: marshall and reader are hanging out at the beach, and marshall is being his usual annoying self. 

 It was sunny and unbearably hot in Aaa. Dang, even Marshall was hot.  Not like that.  You sat under a weirdly colored umbrella, dressed in light clothes, relishing in the cool the ocean wind and shade provided. Candy citizens splashed in the water far from your secluded spot on the rocky beach, surrounded by half-submerged vehicles and objects you couldn't even name.  You adjusted your large sun hat and sipped a cold drink. You didn't need the hat, you were wearing it in solidarity with... an annoying vampire that was levitating on your right, under the umbrella, dawning a hat, gloves, the whole anti-sun fit.  He floated down and you frowned. He hadn't said a word yet, but you anticipated something dumb. It was right on the edge of his forked tongue.  "What's that?" His pleasant and casual baritone rang out by your ear, and you felt yourself shiver at his cold-ass hands on your shoulders.  You flinched and moved away. You gave him a side-eye.  "Mojito with watermelon eyeballs," You stated with no interest, sipping with displeasure. The breeze blew by, and a drop of condensation hit your leg.  "So are they... eyes? Or watermelon?" Marshall tilted his head, raising a brow, pointing at the glass.  The eyes bobbed up and down in liquid between chunks of ice. You grimaced, chewing through one and swallowing thickly.    "I don't know, but the texture is terrible. Worst mistake ever." You shuddered as the chewed up chunks of the fruit and or organ slid down your throat, finally out of your mouth. You took a gulp of the fizz. You stared out into the ocean. Gentle lapis waves rolled and crashed onto the golden shore. The sun still burned, and cream clouds floated along the horizon; a march into oblivion.  You inhaled fresh air, chunks of ice stinging your mouth and teeth. In a good way. "Eating the ice?"  And there, your moment of serenity was quickly interrupted. Or obscured, more like. By Marshall.  Your brows lowered and you crunched loudly. "Yea, is crunchy," You said with a full mouth.  Marshall laughed at your expression, putting his long arms behind his head, lounging mid air. Was it bothering you? Kind of. Did you have enough energy to bicker with him?  Your frown deepened.  No. That was your Glob-damned off day!  Marshall clicked his tongue, gestured with his hand, and closed his eyes.  "I prefer to crunch on the bones of my enemies," He quipped as he opened his eyes and hissed out the "s", his scleras black and his irises and pupils a bright red. You suppressed a smile.  "You know what else is cold and hard?" He said in an aloof, teasing tone.  Marshall smirked.  Your smile and frown fell, replaced by thinly concealed horror. "What." It was less of a question and more of a panicked stammer.   Double take wasn’t enough. Not even triple take. You nearly choked on your drink. You stared at his cold hands and forced your eyes to stare into his demonic crimson eyes. You hoped dearly that he couldn't read minds.  "The beds in the Ice Kingdom! I stayed over at Simona's last night and my back still hurts," He explained calmly, looking away. When his eyes fell on you, he burst out into a cackle, spinning and clutching his stomach as his hat nearly fell off.  "What did you think I was gonna say?!" He threw back his head, fangs brandished and eyes watching you.  "... Well.... you know..."  The words died in your throat with your dignity. You felt your face heat up as you pressed yourself into your chair. "What?" He smirked, drawling, unable to contain his amusement at your suffering. "Nothing." You looked down, metaphorical tail between your legs. You were definitely red with how much your face burned. When condensation dripped on your leg again, you flinched.  Thoughts? Ninety miles per hour. Face? One billion degrees.  He floated closer to you. He wouldn't flippin’ dare. His hands extended to your face.  "Wow, hey there watermelon fa-"  You cut him off by chucking a handful of ice at his face. He caught it with his maw. He crunched loudly, arms folded. He looked into nowhere for a bit.  He smiled, still chewing. "Oh, it is crunchy!"

#w r i t i n g #a d v e n t u r e t i m e #marshall lee #marshall lee x reader #marshall lee/reader #if this has any errors... i will lose It #★

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ With Thorns And Honey ☂⛈

 • (Green Knight x g/n demon reader)  • r a t i n g: e x p l i c i t  • 2 0 7 0  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 14.08.2022     🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: demon reader & green knight fawking. that is all.

   His swollen dick leaked hot tingly lube near their slit, pulsating in arousal. He held down their wrists with long, slim fingers, broad chest rising and falling in shallow shaky breaths. They squirmed against his cold armor, icy against their hot skin, pushing on his flower-like cock.   “Why don’t you take that armor off?” They huffed, arching their back, heart fluttering.   “It feels good,” He mumbled, moving slowly against them, their stomach jolting, tingling as they shivered, an ache down in their core.   They squirmed impatiently. “Doors open, dude,” They seethed quietly.   The two were lit up by golden peach sunlight coming from the right from behind the ever-foggy lake and mountains.   He slid in, gasping as he entered them. They bit their lip, a rush of foggy pleasure spreading through their core.   They were not only warm to the touch, but inside. He adjusted, not yet used to the feelings of his plant body.   “This is-“ He thrust, shivering. “A lot different to how when I was human-“ Fern huffed between short moans and gasps.   “A lot-“ They inhaled sharply as he entered fully, filling them up with his ridgy, squishy, and girthy length. “Better.”   They moaned as his chest pressed against their back, hips rolling. He moaned into their ear, their eyes wide open and body on edge at the sweet sound. They bit their lip with their sharp teeth, huffing as he thrust shallowly, ridges rubbing up against their inside, hot and wet.   He leaned down again, his breathing somewhat erratic. He let go of their wrists, pressing his hands against the floor to hold himself up. They grabbed his right thorny horn, pulling his head even closer to theirs. He exhaled sharply, mewling like a pathetic puppy. He thrust in, deeper than before, making them catch their breath.   “You’re doing so good-“ They remarked fruitily, grip on his horn strong, impossible for him to move away. Not like he wanted to. “Deeper!” They commanded, letting go of him.  He went as deep as he could. Their muscles contracted on his length, making him moan, his swollen, mostly pink cock releasing more warm and fragrant lube. He pulled out of their slit, breathing hot air, his plant heart beating rapidly as he gathered himself.   He pushed back in slowly, caressing their lips from top to bottom. They released a muffled groan, his dick slipping in, a jolt going through their core.   They took a deep breath as he ground his hips into them, lithe fingers slithering through their silky hair, grabbing it softly near the base, pulling their head back.   He gained a slow and steady rhythm of his hips. He grabbed their hip, digging his pointed fingertips into their muscular hip, eliciting a deep moan from their angled throat. He squeezed, sharp pain erupting through their skin at the same time as he hit the end of their core. He sped up his thrusts, the green hand on their hip slinking down to their slit. He tugged their hair before letting go.   He moaned as their inside constricted once again, clenching from pleasure and tension. The Green Knight probed at the corner of their mouth. They opened up, and he slipped in two digits. They closed their mouth, their sharp teeth grazing his fingers in dull pain, enough to keep him on his toes.   Their back arched as he found their clit. He rubbed it in slow circles with his lubed-up fingers, now formed into tendrils, moving along their lips. They growled, the sound drowned out in their throat and mostly closed mouth.   He kept at it until his cock became a vibrant berry, begging for release. He thrust one last time, fully sheathed. The Knight relaxed, breathing deeply, his hands splayed on either side of them. They exhaled. They shuddered. Fern pulled out slowly, his member throbbing as it leaked precum.   Now sitting down on a ledge, he was exposed. He looked away shyly. His hands were behind him and his fingers were curled under his palms. His long legs dangled. They approached him, their face level with his. They smirked, crouching. Fern blushed underneath his armor.   They encircled around his base and began stroking. Their other claw was resting on his thigh, digging into his leg. Their sharp turquoise snake tongue lingered above his tip, close enough to be felt, but not touching him. He squirmed, and they held him down. They caressed his thick base, tongue flicking over his tip.    He flinched, his leg jerking as he stifled a gasp. Their tongue snuck down. They made one sweeping motion with their tongue, smooth running over ridges from which precum seeped lots. They took him into their mouth, their teeth grazing his cock, sending jolts of anticipation through him. Their tongue circled him in their mouth, his swollen berry length prodding at their cheek. They moved their head down and then back up, releasing him, spit connected to his tip. They kissed it sloppily, a lewd pop resounding as they did. Fern huffed, chest rising and falling.   They stroked his base with rapid moves, their claw gliding against the iridescent shiny surface. He mewled as their tongue encircled his length entirely.      He couldn’t look away then, eyes wide beneath his armor. As they jerked their claw against his thigh and sped up their pace, stroking, licking, sliding over, he mewled, tightening his fists.   They made the last few strokes, his length leaking with sweet clear liquid, squelching underneath their gentle grasp. He moaned, cumming, a pearlescent liquid creamier than the clear releasing from the top half of his cock, dripping down to his hips. He heaved, mumbling and huffing.   They looked through his eye holes, lapping up the sweet honey-like cum, making him watch. He still throbbed, his dick getting less thick as the cum leaked out. It retracted into his body, the grass blades cleaning themselves.   They were laying down leisurely on a padded concrete platform, comfortable and calm, unlike the jittery Knight. The sun cascaded down their form, lighting the demon up in angelic light.   They smirked smugly, staring at the Knight as he got down onto his knees. They moved to the ledge, sharply putting their legs around his collar and back, his armor clanking. He huffed at the unexpected movement, flustered. He settled, setting his hand near their body. He unsurely grazed their hip, moving down to their pelvis, and lower, his grassy fingers tickling their skin with grass blades.   He hovered above them. His fingers morphed into smooth tendrils. He rubbed against their slit, slipping in, first curling his fingers into a spot that made them feel light. The tendrils grew, swirling around their inside, and outside, curling around their clit, gently fondling it. The sunlight was turning magenta.   They enjoyed it, but it wasn’t enough. They frowned. “Come on, Fern, don’t be shy. Don’t hold back,” They remarked, arching their back, stretching their long arms, watching him. He nodded briefly, blushing.   He withdrew the tendrils. He thickened his fingers, grass blades forming, becoming smooth, yet somewhat ridged. He entered them roughly, curling his two digits, pumping them in and out, teasing their entrance. They sighed, content.   He leaned toward them. His forked lizard tongue lapped at their clit. They released a muffled moan, their muscles tensing, legs bending unwillingly.   “That’s right,” They noted breathily, praising him as he worked away. He ran his tongue all over their lips. They shivered from the surprising but welcome sensation.    He withdrew his long fingers, grass blades morphing. He adjusted his weight, spreading his legs as he placed his hands on their hips, thumbs pulling apart their slit. They sucked in the hot, fresh air as his delightfully dripping textured tongue ran over them multiple times, going over all the right places. They breathed shakily, legs trembling.   He ran his deep green tongue back and forth until he went in, slithering and exploring them. Tendrils sprouted from his thumbs. They stroked their clit and lips, others pinching the skin on their thighs, in response, they moaned deeply, allowing their voice to be heard fully without holding back. Fern was delighted at the sound- a sign to keep going. It was almost, if not as good as verbal praise.

 They grabbed his thorned horns strongly, pulling him deeper into them. Clear pinkish wetness ran down his armor, all down to his neck. Armor be damned. It’d clean itself anyway.   Their grip only tightened on his horn. They angled him however they wanted. He was their doll, and he loved every second of it. “That’s so- fucking- good!” They said in a strained tone as their voice faltered.   He thrusted it deeper, curling up and around, making them raise their hips.   They breathed heavily. They loosened their grip on his horns, instead keeping him steady as he worked. New tendrils sprouted from his hands, sweeping across their bottom half, brushing over the spots that made them shiver. For a while, the pleasure blended into a blur of ecstasy and pain and heat, the stimulation all over a wave of feelings.   The Green Knight retracted his tongue for a second, a string of wetness following it, only to return to fucking them with a squelch that resonated through the room.   He spread his tongue over them, lingering near their thigh. Lifting up his visors just a tad, he nipped at their soft flesh. They yelped in surprise.   “Was that okay?” He mumbled quietly, still playing with them. They breathed, combing through their tangled hair.   “Yeah, unexpected, but good.” He took a second to admire their demonic yet strangely alluring face. They stared back. “Go on,” They taunted, nudging him with their leg. He obeyed, lapping and working harder than before. They were close, they could feel it. Their core was on fire, muscles tense, inside tight. A knot was tightening in their gut and they couldn’t wait for its release.   His tongue slithered inside, pushing up against their tight muscles. It made them feel lightheaded, and with the combined intensity of the nimble tendrils, they were on the edge. They moaned as he made a particularly brisk flick of his tongue.   Blades of his grass hands prodded at their skin, needle-like pain that got them even closer.   Pumping his tongue in and out, rubbing their clit with wet tendrils, they shuddered as blinding pleasure erupted within them as he slid the tip of his tongue over them. First, a numbing tingle inside, and then, a full-blown explosion into ecstasy. They stifled a deep moan, covering their mouth, one of their legs shaking, back arched and frozen, eyes shut tight as the great orgasm gripped them. They breathed heavily and rapidly, caught up in the sensation. The only thing audible was their heart and breathing.   As they relaxed, chest falling and rising, they collected themself. The Green Knight retracted the tendrils and his tongue. He curled his fingers into them a few more times as they came down from their high, and licked them clean. Their eyes opened. Their slit closed, disappearing. They lifted themself with ease.   Fern turned up to look at them, wet pink lube all over his armor. His arms were folded on the platform. He waited. They urged him to stand up partially. They licked his armor clean, causing him to stiffen up and freeze. They licked their lips with their snake tongue, lifting up his visors. He was blushing a darker green, his hair spilling from the helmet, covered in flowers. They kissed him. His eyes widened before he held their face in his hands. They embraced his waist. He gazed at the mark on their thigh from his teeth, blushing. He didn’t meet their demonic eyes.   “Was I any good?”   They laughed. He snapped his head up, expression hurt and concerned. They smiled. “You were quite good,” They said earnestly, playing with a lock of his hair. He nuzzled into their torso, hugging them tightly. They stroked his back.   “I don’t think anyone has told me that, ever.” He frowned, pensive.   The smell of grass and cherry was overwhelming as they were squeezed by him. “They’re missing out,” They whispered, raising their brows. Fern smiled faintly. “With thorns and honey, you’re the best plant boy out there.” They kissed his forehead tenderly.   He blinked sheepishly.   Dozens of flowers sprouted through his hair as the red sun set behind the mountains.

#w r i t i n g #a d v e n t u r e t i m e #fern the human #fern the human x reader #nsfw #needs editing but i sure as hell won't edit it. #☂

[nonnieapple]

🌩. . . w e l c o m e . . .🌩

🌧 n a v i g a t i o n:

☂ f a n f i c s:

⛈  a d v e n t u r e  t i m e 

 ☾”With Thorns And Honey” (Green Knight x demon reader) r: e    ☾(Oneshot) ☾"Siren Song" (Marshall Lee x reader) r: t ☾(Oneshot) ☾“Strings”  (Marshall Lee x reader) r: t ☾(Oneshot)

☾“Midnight Surf”  (Marshall Lee x reader) r: m ☾(Oneshot- follow up to "Strings")

☾"Blood" (Marshall Lee x reader) r: e☾(Oneshot) ☁️  f i o n n a & c a k e

☾"Mall Emo, Mall Time, Mall Crime!" (human!Marshall Lee x reader) r: t ☾(Oneshot)

⛈ s i l e n t  h i l l / b d b

 ☾”Sin Of The Blade” (Pyramid Head x reader)(Ongoing) r: m     ☾ 13/20 chapters +Bonus

⛈ k a m i s a m a k i s s

   ☾  Peach Pit (Akura-ou x g/n reader x Tomoe) (Ongoing: weekly, Sundays) r: m ☾1- A Hanging Branch In A Garden's Home☾2- Hidden Underneath ☾3- A Rocky Heart For Breakin' Teeth ☾4- An Apple Core's Cyanide Seed ☾5- Long Season Through ☾6- All This Rotting Fruit ☾ 7- Lift Back And See The Darkness Hid ☾ 8- Swallowed Up And Angled In ☾ 9- Looking Back At Sweetness Dim (Release date: Sunday, April 28) ⛈ f u t u r a m a ☾

⛈  t h e  o w l  h o u s e

  ☾”Emperor’s New Clothes” (Emperor Belos x reader)(Ongoing) r: e    ☾1-”Like Gold Dust”      ☾2-”Gold Stars”

  ☾”Howling With The Wolves” (Emperor Belos x oc)(Ongoing) r: m      ☾1-“Between Dog And Wolf”     ☾2-“Life Of A Wolf”, part 1       ☾2-“Life Of A Wolf”, part 2

     ★d r a b b l e s . . .

⛈ d i s e n c h a n t m e n t 

    ↳ “I’ve Bean There” (Queen Tiabeanie x reader) r: t      

⛈  a d v e n t u r e  t i m e

      | “Watermelon Face” (Marshall Lee x reader) r: t

↳ “Cold Comfort” (Marshall Lee x reader) r: g

🌧 a b o u t:

  hey, i’m nonnie. anonapple on ao3, and quotev, nonnieapple on wattpad. he/him. fanfic writer when you’re not looking.  i have more wips than god has regrets.

🌧 r u l e s:

   • d n i if under 18. • d n i if exclusionist, general dickhead, etc. y’know the jam.  • if a fic is listed but not linked, it’s wip. longer works are on ao3 and the links are links to ao3. • ★ [a star] means drabble (shorter, less than 1K word oneshot).     ☂ [an umbrella] means fanfic (longer, over 1k words, oneshot or multiple parts).

🌧 r e q u e s t s:

• closed atm. if you have an idea (for a fic, or headcanon) related to marshall lee, prince gumball, marceline, simon petrikov, emperor belos, darius deamonne, bean, luci, satan, dagmar, akura-ou, tomoe, ryuo sukuna, send it in, i might reply or write a drabble. don’t send fucked up shit though.

  ⛈  r a t i n g  s y s t e m:  a o 3

#o t h e r #n a v i g a t i o n #under construction

[nonnieapple]

Hello? 

Is there anybody in there?

#o t h e r