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#demon slayer dabble

mackenziebrooks · 8 months

Text

Genya and Sanemi Dabble

Mentions of :oral sex, female receiving, nipples being pinched, Genya called Master.

——————————-

It wasn’t quite clear to you when both Shinaguzawa brothers said they wanted you. Sure you loved both boys in different ways but for you it was hard. So when Genya and Sanemi both come into your room to talk to you, it was clear they wanted to share you. Before you could even react, Sanemi had already captured his lips with yours, kissing you hard and long enough to slip his tongue into your mouth. Genya, couldn’t help himself and started to pull your shorts and panties down. His older brother maybe a Hashira, but Genya was going to be the first to taste how good you actually were. You turn your head to look at Genya when you felt his tongue flick your clit. Yet it didn’t last long when Sanemi grabbed your jaw and made you look back at him. “Keep your eyes on me princess, Genya isn’t the only one in control here” he growls.

“Shit Nemi, she kinda got more wet from when you did that to her” Genya smirked as he shoved his tongue into your warm cunt. Sanemi grins and couldn’t help but guide you to lay on your back. “Have to let master enjoy his meal kitty, don’t want to upset us do you?” He said as he pinched your nipples. Making you let out a sharp moan.

This was going to be interesting night you thought.

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thursdayisfriday · 10 months

Text

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ︎⋆˚✿˖°

⤑ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Gyomei himejima x M!reader

⤑ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: mention on rimming, size kink, cursing, mention of cock (just a little smut dabble^^)

⤑ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: “ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ''

Gyomei kissed on (M/N) shoulder as tears ran down his boyfriend's cheek. (M/N) face was flushed red as he tried to breath properly. Himejima held onto (M/N) thigh with one hand as he felt the insides of (M/N) with the other hand, he couldn’t help looking down at the smaller male in his lap with a worried expression. He looked absolutely fucked. His tongue was hanging out and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as Gyomei finger him. The hashira was starting to think that maybe this was a little too much for the small male, considering how thick his finger was. For if his finger was too big for the male what was going to happen when he wanted more than a finger in him. Troubled, Gyomei went to remove his finger making (M/N) whine from the emptiness. “ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴍʏ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ɪ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ”

(M/N) looked up at the male with a huff, gaining back his conscience a little. He was afraid this would happen, for this was his idea all along. They'd been dating for eight months now and the most that they would do was makeout and masturbate with each other. (M/N) wasn’t going to let Himejima back out now.

His hand reached up to grab the soft silky robe that covered Gyomei's shoulder, pulling the male down for a heated kiss. Their tongues glided alongside the other and (M/N) grinded on Gyomei hard on, trying to remove the robe off of his naked body. Gyomei groaned. (M/N) was desperate. Desprate to feel his Boyfriend fuck to oblivion, till he couldn’t move anymore. Himejima held onto (M/N) hips, stopping the male from moving. He paused for a second to look at the boy on his lap.“ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ꜱʟᴏᴡ,ᴏᴋ?”

(M/N) nodded knowing that he’d be pleased with whatever happened next. Gyomei shifted, moving so that he was now pinning (M/N) to the floor with (M/N) legs around his waist. His cock threatened to come out of his rode as the robe slipped off his shoulder.and onto the floor. His big hands cupped (M/N)’s Chest as he kissed down the man's body. Once he got to his hole he gave it a few licks before giving (M/N) a quick rim job. (M/N) arched his back and moaned, gripping onto Gyomei’s hair and the bed sheets next to him. “ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ''Gyomei mumbled. (M/N) pushed his body down on Gyomei's face, trying to get more friction, but Himejima stopped him; holding onto his waist as he removed his tongue from (M/N) hole before he ever got to cum. This time Gyomei was fully naked. His robe was on the floor and his hair was a mess, he hung over (M/N) making his cock touch the man's belly.

“ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪʟᴅᴇꜱᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ, ᴍʏ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ” ⋆˚✿˖°

I hope you enjoyed (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

#x reader #x male reader #fanfic #x male y/n #romantic prompts #gyomei himejima #gyomei smut #kimetsu gyomei #kny gyomei #gyomei headcanons #x male reader smut #demon slayer #demon slayer smut #anime x male reader #anime x you #dabble

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giggly-squiggily · 3 months

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CANDY HERAT EVENT LETS GOOOOOOOO

obanai and mitsuri with puppy love PLEASE (romantic obviously what r u talking abt they’re married and living tgt happily 😊😊)

Slime! *runs over and hugs* I'm happy to hear from you! And heck yeah CANDY HEARTS!!! :D I love Obamitsu so much kajaekjrjkaerjk I've gotcha covered, friend!

Puppy Love- "Where are those giggles I love so much?"

It was rare for Mitsuri to be quiet.

It was even rarer Obanai being the reason for it.

“Mitsuri, please. I said I was sorry.” He pleaded gently to his silent wife, her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth in a stubborn pout. “I’ll buy you more mochi, I promise.”

The offer was tempting- he could see her start to crack. Then she raised her chin, turning away more and giving him her back with a small ‘hmph!’.

To be honest- it was quite cute. Obanai had to hold back from laughing outloud at her mannerisms. Right- fixing his mistake.

“Mitsuri..” He scooted over to her, pulling her back against his chest. Instinctively she settled into him- a sign she wasn’t truly mad. “Forgive me?”

“...Okay.” She gave in, her pout lessening as he kissed her cheek. “I’m holding you to that mochi. I was waiting for it all day!”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized Kaburamaru developed an appetite for the sort.” He still couldn’t believe his snake managed to polish off the remaining treats! Before he could reassure her again, he saw her lips twitch. Seems the idea tickled her.

Hmm…

“Mitsuri…where are those giggles I love so much?” He cooed in her ear, wasting no time attacking her sides with tickly fingers. Almost immediately his wife jumped, her laughter like bells in his ear. “There they are.”

“Ohoohohobahahahani! Ahehahahaha, wahahahahhait!” She cried, cheeks turning as pink as her hair as she wriggled in his arms. “Yohoohohhou’re tehehehheherribihiihihihle!”

“You don’t mean that.” He kissed her shoulder as he moved to her stomach, nearly taking a headbutt to the nose.

“Oohohohohhof coohohohohouse I dohohohoohhon’t! Ahehahahahhaha, fihihihine, I fihoohohohohorgiihhihive youohohohu! Pleahhahahhase!” At her squeals for mercy, Obanai ceased his tickles. Little did he realize this would be his demise.

“Gotcha!” She twisted, using her strength to pin him down against their shared futon. “You’re gonna get it now, Obi!”

Send me a candy heart and I'll write a dabble for it!

#Candy Hearts Valentine Event #chve2k24 #tickle #tickle dabble #demon slayer #obamitsu #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanroji #fluff #I love them your honor #They are PRECIOUS

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softquietsteadylove · 5 months

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Hi, it's me (i'm the problem, it's me). Here's a prompt for a new au that I think you can do it justice 💃 Thena is the best onmyoji/jujutsu sorceress in the family and Gilgamesh is the giant entity that serves her, between them there's a connection that runs deeper than the contract that binds them together ✨✨💖 pls i wanna see them being badass and then some soft moments 👉👈

"Uh, so..." Kingo started and then stopped again. He had never been paired with this particular sorcerer for a mission before, but he knew who she was.

Thena, eldest daughter of a very renowned jujutsu sorceress clan. They had cursed energy that was so pure and so concentrated it was called Cosmic energy to some--glowed gold and everything. But aside from her weapons expertise, not a lot was known about her.

"Yes?"

Kingo shifted on his feet. "Do you think it's a special grade, like the rumours say? Or just a level 2 causing trouble?"

"Hm," she let out plainly, and it almost sounded like a chuckle. "I believe even a level 2 is enough to spook the people living in this area. If there is, in fact, a special grade apparition in the area, then I'm certain you and I can handle it."

Kingo nodded; it was a very concise way to wrap things up. So, not the chatty type. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, pulling his own cursed energy into his fingertips.

Thena pulled out the hilt of a sword from the sleeve of her dress. But it took no effort at all for her to create a blade of pure golden light. "Ready."

Kingo raised his hand, pointing his 'finger guns' into the air where he expected the cursed spirit to appear. He just wanted to get this mission done so he could go home.

They waited.

"Where is it?" he voiced aloud, mostly to fill the tense silence.

"Indeed," she agreed, her sword shifting shape from a long blade to a knife she could hold closer to her body. "I believed a level 2 would be eager for a kill."

"Maybe it is a special grade," he murmured as they started backing up. Ajak's deep blue veil was still cast over the area to keep anyone from poking around. "Let's regroup."

"What is it?"

Kingo looked over at his temporary partner. She was whispering over her shoulder--talking to herself? "Uh, T?"

"Something isn't right," she looked back at Kingo, as if she hadn't been talking to some imaginary devil on her shoulder. "I can't sense anything at all."

Now that she said it, she had a point. There was no cursed energy lingering in the air. Even the most basic curses would leave some impression on the area. But this was suspiciously quiet.

"I don't like it either."

Kingo frowned; she was whispering to herself again. He thought her and her whole family were supposed to be super cool jujutsu sorcerers, not nut jobs!

"Kingo!"

He had quick reflexes--he prided himself on them. But he wasn't even fully turned around when the blade of a spear extended past him. He fell forward, cursed energy spilling out from behind him. Oh yeah, this was totally a special grade apparition.

Thena pulled the spear back to herself and changed the shape of it again, her fingers running along the blade of her sword. "It's eaten a lot of people."

"Yuck," Kingo muttered, regarded the writhing mass of cursed energy, a swirling ball of curses with evidence of their once physical bodies still in it. It moved fast though.

Kingo took shots at it as it moved, but it was like a rat king, scurrying around quickly in a completely disgusting way. It scuttle around, avoiding his shots of cursed energy expertly. Even those that hit, only shot off small sections of the main body. He aimed at the small little 'rats' scurrying off the main body as they split off. "Ew, ew, ew!--this is by far the grossest spirit I've ever fought."

"I am inclined to agree." She was a woman of few words, huh?

Kingo ducked and rolled as the ratking spirit shot a few more extremities at them. He took a few more shots in return, but this was getting nowhere fast. He looked at his partner, who was more close range combat than he was. "Thena!"

She turned, barely catching the wave of rats behind her. It loomed over her, but the shadow cast over her wasn't from that.

Kingo skittered back as a massive shadow rose from within Thena's. A cursed apparition like he had never seen before appeared, looming over her and using a single hand to keep the enemy curse at bay. "What the-"

"Gilgamesh!"

The massive spirit materialised more, becoming that of a man, with dark eyes. He had regular hands, but in the same golden glow of Thena's energy, a massive bear paw appeared around his hand. And that was what held the curse at bay.

The curse could use cursed energy? Kingo ran closer, "what the hell is that?!"

"How dare..." the monstrous spirit growled as he held the curses around them at bay. He threw them back, still glowing with cursed energy within his control. "How dare you hurt Thena!"

Kingo ducked as the spirit threw the limb of the cursed spirit and by extension the main body. He looked at Thena, "uh, you brought backup, I see."

She looked at him briefly. "This is Gilgamesh."

That was not the explanation Kingo would have expected to get. But he nodded at the apparition towering over Thena's shoulder, who nodded at him in return. "Uh, hey."

The spirit looked at Thena, bending closer to her. Her hand came up to his cheek, her mouth hovering close to his as she whispered, "friend."

The one word was enough for her guardian spirit, who looked at Kingo again before redirecting his attention to the curse at hand. Kingo also turned back to their current problem. "I guess we'll have to do introductions later."

"Gil!" Thena barked, and the spirit over her shoulder grasped her by the waist before throwing her up in the air. Kingo didn't have time to be stunned before she was on top of the ratking spirit and had both her blades driven into it.

"Holy shit!"

Gilgamesh stormed over, still in the shape of a man but with golden glowing lines like elephant feet around his own. He impacted the ground as he ran at the monster, fists swinging. "Thena!"

What was this thing? Kingo took up the job of shooting at the extremities before they could scurry off and reform into another cursed spirit. "Keep it up you two!"

"Crush it!" Thena ordered from above, hacking and sawing with her blades of cursed energy.

Kingo wouldn't believe it was possible, but he watched as her guardian did just that, bringing his arms around the other being of cursed energy until it was no more. Kingo held up both his hands, shooting at anything that so much as moved. "There are too many!"

"Gil!"

He caught her first, because of course he would. Then he put a hand on her shoulder. He had his own supply of cursed energy, of course. Thena held out her palms, golden needles emerging from them. They all shot out at once, with no end in sight. However much cursed energy she had on her own, Gilgamesh obviously added to it exponentially.

Kingo ended up shielding his eyes by the time the massacre was over. He could understand why they called her the weapons expert; it was hard to create objects out of pure cursed energy. He walked over cautiously, "uh, good work...team?"

Gilgamesh leaned over Thena, pushing some hair away from her face and asking if she was okay even quieter than a whisper.

She smiled and nodded, leaning into his touch. He drifted even closer and she lifted onto her toes to tilt her head up and touch her lips to his cheek.

Kingo averted his eyes. He wasn't embarrassed per se, but he didn't think it was something he was supposed to witness.

"He was my guard."

He looked over, undeniably curious. "Wassat?"

Thena smiled at him, more relaxed now that the imminent danger was out of the way. Her hand remained cradled in the massive palm of her guardian. "He was my guard, once upon a time. When he died protecting me, I...I bound his spirit to mine."

Ohhhhh, he was a cursed apparition in the way a shrine guardian was bound to a temple. She had tied his soul to hers, tethered by their shared cursed energy to keep him with her. It was romantic, in a way (tragic, in another).

"Thena," the spirit rumbled, leaning over shoulder again and pressing his cheek to hers.

She smiled, nuzzling against him just as lovingly. "Gil."

She had a nickname for it?--him. Kingo put his hands back in his pockets as she gave her guardian angel another kiss before beginning the walk back to the edge of the veil. "Were you two...?"

Her smile turned a little sad as the veil began to fall away, revealing the rising sun. "Not in life, no."

But now, in death, it seemed their love was more unbound. There was something beautiful about that, even Kingo could see. He looked over at her massive shadow, where Gilgamesh was happy to float along behind her. Despite literally living in her shadow, they were holding hands.

Kingo chuckled, squinting as dawn reached them. He waved to Ajak, waiting for them. "Well, if I ever ask for a boost like you did today, I think I should get at least one per fight."

Thena just stared at him like he'd spit up a cursed spirit orb. But she laughed, even throwing her head back a little. Her hair caught the sun, practically glowing in its own way.

Gilgamesh smiled down at her, although he held up a hand to keep the sun from getting directly in her eyes. "Love your laugh."

"You're free to ask him," she even swiped a tear of laughter from her eye, "but it's not up to me if he agrees."

#Thenamesh AU #Thenamesh Jujutsu AU #highly recommend jujutsu kaisen for the animation #it's a little intense but damn beautiful #you may know it from some of the thirstiest tiktoks I have ever seen #and listen same #anyway #Gil was her bodyguard #a la Akaza from Demon Slayer if you dabble in that one too #he died protecting her and professed his love with his dying breath #he asked to stay close to her if there was indeed a god listening #but even better: the Goddess of War #Thena put her hand to his chest and said this contract in indefinite #their cursed energy is braided together #like an ourabouros there is no beginning or end #and Gil can socialise a little!#he likes Kingo #thinks he's funny #and he doesn't make Thena uncomfortable even better #Kingo gets pretty used to them #although he does sometimes tell Thena 'stop kissing your boyfriend and make him into a giant crab or something!'#they become a great team!#and Kingo thinks it's hilarious to watch people 'meet' Gilgamesh #I thought a lot about how to write this one #at one point Ikaris is taunting/flirting #Gil emerges like yOu SpEaK tO mY wIfE?!?!??

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katwatcheskny · 1 year

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Hi I hope you're fine :) I'd like to request a dabble with Doma and a female slayer. Like Mitsuri this slayer dreams of findind a husband who's stronger than her. So when Doma and the Slayer meet BOOM he falls in love, and when they fight he's like "you said you wanted a husband stronger than you. Well, here I am~". And now she has to deal with this motherfucker who's always following her around, fighting her (and winning) to try to win her heart. (thank you sorry this was long lol)

douma's crush wants to marry someone strong

type: drabble

pronouns: she/her/herself

word count: 1449

content warning: mentions of blood, depictions of injury

a/n: hello! i literally could not think of a better title. but i did like this request. douma is a surprisingly easy character to write for, which was very surprising to be honest. but i do enjoy it. this was fun to finally get to and i hope it's enjoyable. it came out more yandere than i thought it would, but that's where my brain took me. idk, the demons with human readers often come off as slightly yandere.

She had said it once aloud.

He was a foolish hinoe, meant to accompany her in slaying a lower moon. His name was Taka… Takashi? No, it was Takahiro, she was sure now. He had dark hair and unremarkable features, he was shaking so terribly, sure that he would not survive the night. (Y/N) could not fault him for being afraid, that would be monstrous of her to be so apathetic, so uncompassionate.

Takahiro survived that night. Not on any merit of his own, but rather from sheer luck and the abilities of the hashira he had been assigned to, saving him from what would have been a terrible fate. (Y/N) had never minded saving her fellow demon slayers, it was not as though they could afford to keep bleeding numbers the way they did regularly. (Y/N) did not mind saving Takahiro, he was a good person who she was fond of, and thought deserved better than to die at the hands of some despicable demon.

His fear was not what made him foolish to her. But rather, it was what he did from the small courage he gained after surviving a deathly battle that caused her to always remember him as a fool. When he asked her to marry him.

It made her cringe to remember it now.

Perhaps, she should have said ‘yes’ and been a silly, foolish girl. Like some romantic, lovesick girl who allowed herself to get swept up by the first decent man to offer to marry her and live an ordinary life as some unimpressive man’s wife. But, (Y/N) would never have become a hashira if she was someone who aspired to live an unexceptional life and settle for less.

“I am sorry. I would only marry a man who is stronger than me.”

That was the only time she could recall ever voicing that notion aloud. There would never be another circumstance where she could imagine herself saying that. It was not as though she was proposed to everyday, nor that she needed to reject a marriage proposal and cite her reasoning. Instead, she kept it to herself and only reflected on her dream of a strong husband in her sleep.

Now, (Y/N) was bleeding. She was sure that she had some broken ribs. Her foot was sprained, and with each amount of pressure she kept putting on it by refusing to lie down and die, (Y/N) threatened to tear a ligament and detach it from the bone. There was a ringing in her ears, were they bleeding too? She could smell her own blood, her nose was not broken. Three of her fingers are, though, and she struggled to hold her sword in both hands. (Y/N) had never been so brutalized in a battle before. A part of her told her that this must be her time, this would be the demon who kills her.

At least it is an upper moon who would do her in. Upper two, no less.

She continued to hold herself up, despite her damaged internal organs and broken bones, determined to fight until the end. There would be no shame in dying then, (Y/N) told herself. It would be a worthy death of a hashira, even if she would never have her impossible dreams and hopes.

He had been playing with her for a while now, she had realized a while ago as she tried to steady her breathing enough to use her breathing style. (Y/N) had known that the strength of the upper moons was to be feared. While the ranks of the lower ranks had been changed over the millennia as the demon slayers had managed to kill them from time to time, the upper ranks had not. An upper moon had not been killed in hundreds of years. That was their power, their ruthlessness, their competency. Their strength.

“Nothing to say now?! No teasing of how you want to eat me like you did my Tsuguko, you bastard?!” It was a bit undignified of her to taunt this demon who watched her quietly, holding his fans to his face to hide his expression. But, she had hit her head pretty hard a while ago and she would be dying very soon. Dignity was not her greatest concern anymore.

(Y/N) tired of awaiting her death, took her final lunge at him in her fifth form. She watched as the demon finally moved, his fans prepared to deliver what is for sure to be the killing blow if she is lucky enough to have a quick death.

The blow did not hit her. She felt an impact, a gust of air that felt like a winter’s blizzard nipping away at her nose and cheeks, burning them red and wiping her hair uncontrollably. But, she did not feel as though she had been struck. (Y/N) still felt as though she was whole as she finished her final form.

Her nichirin sword had been cut in half, she realized all too late. She stood less than three feet from him, she could smell her dear successor’s blood on his lips (or was that still her blood she was smelling?) She stared at his chest, what remained of her blade was stabbed into his midsection, not that it was worth anything. (Y/N) could not bring herself to look up, only watching as her hands began to shake as she realized that she was really going to die.

The demon dropped its weapons, they were more than unnecessary now. She had no means of fighting back anymore, he could kill her in an instant with his bare hands. In lieu of ripping her apart, the upper moon brought his hand to cradle her chin, his long, painted nails trailing her jaw.

“Oh, my dear (Y/N), I have no doubt you would be quite delicious.” She felt him prick her cheek with one of those sharp nails of his, and a thin line of crimson blood ran down her cheek. His grasp was as strong as he expected, (Y/N) was powerless to escape his grasp and her will to fight him waned. He lifted her, he was very tall she now realized, bringing her closer to him by the grip on her face. (Y/N) dared to look up at him. He was more human-looking than most demons she had slain before, but inhumane all the same. With that pale skin and those rainbow pastel eyes. His tone was so jovial and light-hearted, “but why would I waste such a perfect bride?”

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open, painfully wide as though she had awoken from a nightmare. Her ears were still ringing, they were probably bleeding, she would have thought she went deaf but she heard him with perfect clarity. He was so close she could feel his breath, and he spoke so gleefully. There had to be some mistake, though. This demon couldn’t have called her a bride?

His free hand ripped what remained of her sword from his chest cavity and tossed it aside. He wrapped his arm around the underside of her thighs and lifted her from her tiptoes to his eye level, her feet hanging pitifully in the air, her body pressed up against his, as though they were lovers embracing. His other hand wandered from her chin to her cheek to her hair, an attempt at affection, she decided. The upper moon smiled so widely, he closed his colorful eyes and exposed the fangs of his teeth with his grin.

“You said that you wanted a strong husband.” The memories of that foolish boy, the battle with a lower moon, her miraculous victory, and her rejection of his proposal flooded back to her. She had never told anyone else that she desired a husband stronger than her, never said those words aloud before or again after that. Had he been there that day? If he hadn’t been, then this demon could read her very thoughts. “Oh, my poor (Y/N), you don’t have to be sad anymore. I am here now, the husband you desired.”

The pale-haired demon, Douma, pressed a kiss to her cheek where his sharp nail had nicked her earlier. She was surprised when she did not cringe from his touch, instead she only subconsciously surrendered. (Y/N) was so exhausted and her mind was so disorientated, but a dark part of her was just grateful that she was not going to die. That in a sick way, she was safe.

He licked the trail of blood as he pulled away. “So sweet, my little bride.”

#douma x reader #douma imagine #douma headcanons #douma x y/n #douma x you #kny x reader #kny imagines #kny headcanons #kny drabble #kny x you #kny x y/n #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons

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kotelok16 · 15 days

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And again, I'm dabbling in the anime style of Demon slayer! I really like to draw fake screenshots~

Version without text under the cut:

#sdr2 #super danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 #chiaki nanami #au #crossover #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #Chiaki has such a focused face here :3

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signedeclipse · 10 months

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Hello!! I was wondering if you could do a Gyokko x F!Reader? (Reader could have a few tattoos around her body)

Reader is a demon slayer and she’s on her way for mission but she runs into a pretty vase and she comments on how pretty it is but is shocked when Gyokko emerges out of the vase. And he’s like wow you really like my art?! And wow you also have art across your body?!

Please and thank you 🙏

Gyokko [X Reader]

In which Gyokko encounter's a demon slayer with tattoo's and a knack for all things creative.

Not only do you have tattoos, but you are an artist yourself, having come from a family that dabbled in the art form

It wasn't very common, considering tattoos were linked to criminals, but the small one here and there weren't uncommon

Yours were far from small, though, thin striped divided by one to two inches up both arms, though your right arm had a few bands filled with symbolic scenes

Each filled stripe was a battle you'd survived, one noteworthy, and not necessarily a literal battle

Your uniform was tailored to show them off fully, so most people avoided you

Though you liked it that way, enjoying your personal space and that you were able to slip away from a crowd

In fact, that's what you were just doing, escaping the new town you were patrolling since the law enforcement were so keen on speaking with you anytime they saw your markings

Much to your surprise, in the middle of the dirt road through the forest was a gorgeous porcelain pot

"No way someone abandoned this pretty thing!"

You were just so busy focusing on your surroundings, you hadn't considered the sinister implications

"Hyo! Do you really think so?"

Jumping back from nearly picking up the thing, you already had your sword in one hand while Gyokko carefully crawled from his pot, revealing himself without shame

Despite your defensive stance, he didn't falter for a moment, gazing at you curiously

"Would you look at that! You are just like me!"

He was staring at your arms curiously, a free hand holding onto his

He had markings, but not like yours, humans didn't have those, not naturally

You are no match for an upper moon, so Gyokko decides to spare you by simply knocking you unconscious with enough poison

That wasn't the end of it though

Picks you up and sets you against a tree, and his claws are dancing along your arms, admiring every detail of the tattoos

When you wake up by morning, there's nothing but a small, empty pot in your lap

Consider it a gift

Authors Note - I think you forgot to add if you wanted headcanons or oneshots but since I know you I shall let it slide just this once,,,, I also could have asked since you aren't anon but to be honest I have written so many Gyokko oneshots I am clawing my way out

#gyokko #gyokko x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #kny headcanons #headcanons #reader insert #x reader

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pinkwisteria · 3 months

Text

Howdy! I'm just a gal on the interwebs who posts about Demon Slayer. Mostly art, but I'm trying to write more. :D

▶ I'm a Christian :D

▶ I love the color pink :D

▶ Kyojuro is my favorite lil guy :D

▶ I dabble in web design/development :D

▶ I am a minor :D

Please don't interact if you post/reblog unkind, suggestive, or 18+ content. You will be blocked.

Requests for KnY shortfics are open!!

Rules:

NO NSFW

Canon only (no OCs)

Platonic only

Blood and MINOR gore is okay

Nothing taking place past volume 20 (I haven't finished the series yet)

Crack is welcomed warmly

Please be specific

Please keep in mind that I'm busy with school and life n stuff, so it might take a bit

Please also keep in mind that I'm just a kid and my writing probably won't be spectacular

@larz-barz is the exception to rules 2 + 3 bc I need to write more HachiMilo lol

#demon slayer #pinned post

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sophie1973 · 21 days

Text

Bloodstream (tell me when it kicks in)- Chapter 2

Well this was a labor of love (emphasis on labor) and it took forever but on the other end it is a whopping 7k so hopefully it makes up for it.

You can also read (and subscribe!) on AO3 HERE

. Manhattan, Astor’s residence - January 1891

Alex walks into the ballroom, humming softly. The string quartet is playing a piece he always enjoyed, even if he can’t remember for the undead life of him if it’s Schubert or Mozart.

He’s stopped by his hostess, Caroline Astor, and they exchange pleasantries. Her receptions are the most sought-after events in New York, not only for the fine dining and excellent champagne but it is also where you can be seen. Business transactions or illicit affairs are often concluded during those lavish soirees. Alex sometimes took that opportunity to find new clients - the fact he’d been hired to look after the Vanderbilts and Astor’s best interests rendered him a coveted lawyer in Manhattan and its surroundings.

He notices Benjamin Harrison, but the President is not the reason for his presence tonight. In the 87 years since he was turned, he has entertained the thought several times of dabbling in politics, but that is a subject for another day.

His interest for tonight stands on the side of the dancefloor, looking rather regal in a black tailcoat over a grey silk waistcoat and assorted cravat. He is holding a glass of champagne. The gaslit chandeliers cast a pretty, golden reflection on his blond hair.

Lord Henry Fox Mountchristen-Windsor. Slayer Extraordinaire.

The youngest Hearst daughter seems to have cornered him, and if his face is all smiles and polite nods, Alex can sense his discomfort across the opulent ballroom.

Alex smiles and makes a beeline toward his supposedly mortal enemy.

This is going to be fun.

Since they met in that dark alley, he has thought of the slayer quite a bit over the past few weeks. If Alex is fully honest with himself, he has thought of Henry Fox for an unreasonable amount of time. Especially the way his body had been pliant and willing against his for a few minutes, and Alex didn’t even have to use any kind of compulsion. The way he smelled heavenly - not only the sweet aroma of his slayer's blood but also the clean linen, citrusy fragrance of his skin. It was only when he had pulled out that little pistol of his - a nice trick, Alex had been sloppy for a second and had forgotten he was dealing with a slayer after all - and took a step back that the vampire had recognized him. A distant memory of a cherished moment in his life, a photograph in a Drury Lane dressing room.

Alex has never met a slayer before—he doesn’t seek them out, for obvious reasons—except for Beatrice Fox. They met a couple of times and exchanged a few words, but he didn’t know her much. Of course, they both know what the other is, but they don’t seek each other’s company.

He knows he’s not the kind she’s hunting and is grateful for that. Word on the street (‘the street’ being mostly Percy since the others are not there to tell the tales anymore) is that she’s highly competent in her field.

And if he has a thing for competency, he doesn’t, however, have a (terminally) death wish. He does not doubt if they met in a back alley, she would kick his ass into the afterlife - and not the fun one. The one reserved for vampires and demons, where everything is bleak and depressing, and there’s a lot of screaming. That Special Hell also reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Alex can tell Henry sees him arrive as his eyes widen slightly, but he schools his features just as quickly.

Alex greets Miss Hearst just before another young man comes to claim his dance, and Alex finally finds himself alone with Henry.

“Lord Mountchristen-Windsor,” he says with a pleasant smile.

“Mr Claremont Diaz.” The tone is a bit dry, but that doesn’t deter the vampire.

“You can call me Alex, you know.”

“I’m certain we’re not sufficiently acquainted for such familiarities.”

Alex grins.

Oh yes. The British accent and posh inflections are really working for him, and so is raising the younger man’s hackles.

“Nice tie. A bit boring, though. You have something against colors?”

Henry scoffs. “Grey is a color, thank you.”

“You wore a green one at the Morgan’s last Saturday.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there,” Henry replies before pinching his lips.

Alex grins. Busted. “Oh, you noticed? Well, I must have read it in the Home Journal.”

“No, you did not.”

Beatrice arrives, all smiles and lovely, in a pale green taffeta dress complimenting her pale skin and ginger hair.

“Mr Claremont-Diaz. How nice to see you again.”

“Lady Beatrice,” he bows, “You look stunning as always. Would you do me the honor of a dance? Unless your card is already full?” He ignores Henry’s eye rolling as Bea lets out a little laugh.

Her smile turns impish. “I’m a 27-year-old spinster, Mr Claremont-Diaz. My card is never full.”

“Well, their loss is my gain then. Can I claim the next one ?”

“Of course. Excuse me, I just noticed one of our acquaintances. I will be right back.”

Henry takes a sip of his glass. “Your eagerness to dance with my sister is quite surprising, considering how terrified you were the last time she was in your vicinity. I remember you were rather anxious to flee with your tail between your legs.”

Alex frowns.

“First, I don’t think you and I should discuss my tail in such a public environment,” he says, his tone slightly suggestive. He feels immense satisfaction when a lovely shade of pink invades Henry’s cheeks.

“Second, your sister might be an expert in the field, but when it comes to the dance floor, I’m the Slayer.”

Henry opens his eyes wide, his eyebrows reaching his hairline.

“That was…terrible,” he says, and Alex winces.

“Admittedly, not my best work, I agree,” he concurs, and he’s pretty sure he hears a soft snort from the blond beside him. Henry’s not looking at him, his eyes are on the crowd, but Alex can see the corners of his lips lift slightly from behind his glass as he takes another sip, and there’s a twinkle in his hazel eyes that was not there a few minutes ago.

Alex takes the opportunity to observe him. His nose is finely aquiline, with a dusting of freckles on his alabaster skin. He has a strong jawbone and lips…

Lips that are made for sin.

After 115 years of existence, Alex is comfortable enough with his sexuality to admit when another man is attractive. It took him some time (and one big crisis) to recognize he was attracted to both genders. In his defense, such inclinations would likely have had him thrown in jail (or worse) for sodomy, so he had to keep that under wraps (only June and Nora knew) and had only been able to indulge a few times in closeted establishments disguised as Gentleman’s clubs. And while it had been an exciting and satisfying experience, those quick, meaningless trysts were not really his cup of tea, especially since coffee was more his drug of choice.

So yes, he finds Henry Fox Mountchristen-Windsor attractive. Pretty is actually the adjective that comes to mind.

There’s a mole on the corner of his right upper lip, and Alex fights the sudden urge to lean and put his mouth there and see for himself if these plush lips are as soft as they look.

Henry notices his gaze and frowns. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Alex clears his throat, shaking himself out of the stupor induced by the other man’s handsome face.

“No.”

“Then stop staring. It is annoying.”

To this day, Alex doesn’t know what prompted him to answer like this. “Your face is annoying.”

Henry throws him an incredulous look. “Oh my God. Are you five?”

Beatrice returns at that moment, saving Alex from responding and making an even bigger fool of himself.

He came here to push Henry’s buttons, but his conversation with Henry left him the most bemused.

He turns and smiles at Bea, so thankful for her interruption that he thinks of sending her flowers the next day. This will undoubtedly be an unprecedented event in the history of vampire/slayer relationships.

And vampires and slayers should not have any kind of relationship.

He would do well to remind himself of that.

****

As Alex and Bea make their way to the dance floor, Henry lets out a breath. Is he relieved or disappointed that the vampire put some distance between them? He’s not really sure.

What he’s sure of is that he’s perplexed.

The man is deeply unnerving.

He’s also deeply, deeply attractive. He’s one of the most - alright, let’s be honest, the most gorgeous man Henry has ever seen.

Which is the crux of the problem.

When in doubt, Henry tends to turn to his best mate, who, conveniently, is also a vampire. So there is that.

He spots Percy amidst a group of young heiresses and a few gentlemen, a likely place for him to be. His buoyant mood, cheerfulness, and eccentric clothing - tonight he’s wearing a fuschia cravat which is clashing with his ruby red waistcoat, but somehow he makes it work- makes him the center of attention, and he thrives on it. The fact that he is wealthy doesn’t hurt either, obviously. And that nobody knows he is a vampire, and that one of his most significant accomplishments has been opening shelters first in London, then now in New York, which welcome newly turned vampires and werewolves and help them adjust and adapt to their new life so they don’t become soulless monsters roaming the streets at night in search of human preys.

To his great despair, he can’t save them all, and some don’t want to be saved, so that’s where Bea and Henry come in by trying to keep the streets as safe as possible.

Percy notices him hovering and excuses himself to his little gaggle of admirers.

“Fancy meeting you here, poppet. How are you?”

Henry doesn’t bother with idle chat. “Can we talk?”

Percy smiles, curiosity and mirth lightening his dark eyes. “So serious. What’s going on?”

“Shall we go on the terrace?”

“Hazza, dearest, it is January in New York. Do you know what the cold does to my complexion? We are absolutely not going outside. I’m sure we can find a nice, empty room in this big-ass mansion.”

A few minutes later, they are sitting in a small drawing room with a glass of brandy.

“So? I’m all ears. Spill.”

Henry sees no reason to beat around the bush, so he asks, “What do you know about Alexander Claremont-Diaz?”

Percy’s eyes widen in interest. “Why do you think I know anything about him?”

“Bea told me you did. And well, you’re both vampires with ties to the High Society.”

Percy rolls his eyes at that. “That doesn’t mean we gather every Monday afternoon and gossip over blood and crumpets. This reminds me, I ordered a box of Twinings Earl Grey for you. It should arrive any day now, assuming the ship hasn’t sunk.”

Henry perks up at that because he loves his cup of Earl Grey in the morning (and in the afternoon, and at night), and the concoction they sell here pretending it’s tea is simply dreadful.

“That’s very sweet of you, Percy. Thank you. Now answer my question.”

A sigh, and then, “He’s a lawyer, but I’m sure you already know that. He was turned at the very beginning of the century. He has a sister, June, who was turned along with him. She lives in Washington with her partner. From what I heard, he’s a decent bloke. He doesn’t kill to feed.” He takes a sip of his brandy. “That is it.”

Henry has known his best friend long enough to know that Percy is not completely honest with him, but he probably has his reasons, so he doesn’t push. He also braces for the inevitable following inquiry.

A sly grin lifts the corner of Percy’s lips. “Why do you ask?”

And the thing is, Henry doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t know what it is about Alex Claremont-Diaz that is so appealing - outside of the obvious- that he has been at the center of Henry’s thoughts all these weeks. He knows it’s not compulsion - slayers can’t be compelled - so his interest (for lack of a better word) in Alex is of his own volition.

It also goes against every belief his grandmother tried to ingrain in his brain. His duty was to kill every creature that was not human indiscriminately, not caring that some of them didn’t ask for their life to be turned upside down and were victims in their own rights.

Thanks to his parents, these beliefs never took root. If they had, Alex would be dust scattered in the wind, either at his hand or Bea’s. So would Percy, for that matter.

Thankfully, Percy is still here, and so is Alex, with glossy dark curls, whisky eyes, and a wicked, gorgeous smile, and Henry doesn’t know what to do with himself.

What to do with these feelings. He’s only met the man twice, for bloody sake. Henry’s not a blushing virgin. He’s had a few discreet and short-lived relationships, although never really anything coming close to what he read in his beloved books. He knows these are not precisely reasonable, realistic expectations, but he won’t settle for anything less. By loving men, he had already restricted himself to a life of secrets and clandestine meetings, so if he had to do it, he would do it with someone he could give his whole heart and soul to.

Until his grandmother found out one day and called him some terrible slurs he had been too ashamed to repeat to anyone.

After that, he had not dared entertain any idea of seeing someone, either in London or since they had arrived in New York. And after everything that had happened, it was much safer for everyone if he forwent any foolish notion of romance anyway.

He focuses back on Percy’s friendly face and answers honestly, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, let me know when you are. In the meantime, I must mingle and persuade some billionaires to divest themselves of a few dollars. Are you coming by the shelter tomorrow?” In addition to the shelters, Percy also has an orphanage and a few other charities, and he splits the generous donations he gets between those and the shelters.

“Yes. I promised Eloise I would bring her a copy of Sense and Sensibility. And you asked me to look over that document for the notary?”

Percy rises from his chair with a fond smile. “Dear Haz, what would I do without you? I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He presses Henry's shoulder as he walks to the door before turning around. “You know, I’m not sure what goes on exactly in your pretty head regarding Alex Claremont-Diaz, but…maybe he’s worth getting out of that solitary tower you like to lock yourself in. I know the odds are stacked against you, considering the circumstances and the whole slayer/vampire situation, but when you think about it…you two could be making History. Even if nobody ever hears about it.”

Henry rolls his eyes. If he let Percy take charge, he would plan his and Alex’s secret wedding within the next 48 hours. “I don’t even know if he’s into men,” he points out.

Percy winks. “Only one way to find out, darling.”

*****

Manhattan, Hearst’s Residence - March 1891

“Oh, for God’s sake, Henry, go home.”

Henry blinks at Bea, surprised at her snapping even though he knows he deserves it.

But today is the worst day of the year. So he can be in a sour mood. He’s allowed.

He’s allowed to miss his dad and feel angry about the circumstances and how they unfolded. How they had to upend their lives because of his bigoted, evil grandmother and knowing she would get away with it because they couldn’t prove anything. They had to leave Martha and Philip behind to face her wrath, and there was no straightforward way to contact them afterward. The telegraph was still unreliable for transatlantic communication, and they could not use the telephone to call England.

He should have stood his ground and stayed home tonight, but Bea had insisted, and he foolishly thought it would help, especially if it meant coming across a certain someone—who, unfortunately, was not there.

So yes, Henry has good reasons to be mopey.

“I’m not leaving you alone. What about your reputation?” he replies, sarcasm tainting his voice.

“I don’t give a fuck about my reputation,” Bea mutters, a bit too loudly though, as it earns her a scandalized look from a matron nearby. At least it makes Henry genuinely smile for the first time that day. “Give or take a few years, we’ll move elsewhere, and nobody will remember us.”

“Or Gran will find a way to dispose of us.”

Bea let out a small chuckle. “Cynicism doesn’t become you, brother, dear.”

“Yes, because I’m generally such a ray of sunshine. Oh hello! Lovely to see you,” he greets an older couple who stays and chats with them for a few minutes. Once they are gone, Bea turns to him.

“Just go to the library; take some time.” She puts her hand on his arm, her face softening. “I thought this would be a good idea. A distraction of sorts from this dreadful day. I don’t think Dad would want us to stay sulking at home every year.”

He kisses her forehead, uncaring if the display of affection doesn’t follow ballroom etiquette.

“You are right, and I’m the annoying git here. I’ll go to the library. Let me know when you’re ready to leave, alright?”

Bea nods. “What do you want me to tell Mr Claremont-Diaz if he arrives?”

He frowns. “Why would you tell him anything? He’s not going to ask anyway. We are mere acquaintances.”

“I saw you talk a few times over the past few weeks.”

“Small talk. We barely exchanged a few words. Mostly because he was his usual insufferable self. We’re not best mates, and we also tried to kill each other, remember?”

“Well, that was that one time, and it didn’t seem like you tried very hard, but alright. It was just a question.”

Henry shakes his head at his sister, wondering if she’s in cahoots with Percy to bring him and Alex together for frankly incomprehensible reasons.

“He won’t ask,” he repeats, wondering if he’s trying to convince Bea or himself.

***

Alex spots Beatrice Fox as soon as he enters the ballroom. He grabs a glass of champagne from a passing servant and gulps it. He had worked late tonight and almost didn’t come, but the vision of blond hair gleaming under crystal chandeliers and smooth pale skin made him change his mind. Nothing of this was reasonable, and he had made a list the other day about the pros and cons of Pursuing an Actual Vampire Slayer When You are a Vampire. The pros list was an ode to Henry’s physical attributes - he doesn’t know him enough to judge his character, although he seems like a kind man if a little uptight. Then again, he’s English, which probably explains it.

The cons list has, so far, remained empty.

To his dismay, he doesn’t see anyone fitting that description. However, if Beatrice is there, Henry must be around unless she came with a chaperone.

There is only one way to find out.

It’s not like he wouldn’t have approached her anyway. He had the opportunity to talk more with her over the last few weeks, and she’s truly lovely.

Outside of his tiny family circle, he doesn’t really care for many people, especially non-vampires. It is complicated to form an attachment to people who will start to wonder after a few years why you don’t age or will die on you after a few decades, leaving you alone once again. He knows it’s not a popular opinion, but he doesn’t see the whole ‘eternal life’ thing as an upside.

But he genuinely likes Beatrice. Even though she’s one year younger than him, she gives off that big sister feeling he has missed since June moved to Washington. So out of all the young ladies in attendance, she’s the one he will always ask to dance - never more than once, though, lest people start to talk.

She welcomes him with a warm smile, and they share some idle conversation before he finally finds the courage to ask in what he hopes is a rather inconspicuous manner.

“Is your brother in attendance tonight?”

Beatrice looks at him with a mischievous smile as if she expected the question.

“Do we need to have a conversation about my brother, Mr Claremont-Diaz?”

And if there’s no actual warning in her voice, Alex is smart enough to know he must be careful about what he’ll say next.

“Please call me Alex,” he drawls with his most charming smile. Of course, she doesn’t fall for it, so he continues, “Not if it involves a pointy stick of some kind.”

She laughs.” Oh, Alex,” and he can’t help but grin. “If I wanted you dead, make no mistake, you would not be here dancing with me tonight. Which would be a shame as you are quite an accomplished dancer.”

To his utter embarrassment, he feels a traitorous blush invade his cheeks at the praise.

“And yes, Henry’s here. I believe he’s in the library. Today is the anniversary of our father’s death, and I dragged him here thinking the distraction would do us some good, but I’m afraid it was a mistake.”

Alex remembers quite well the day he learned about Arthur Fox's death three years ago and the sorrow he had felt at the news, especially considering the circumstances. He could only imagine how hard it must be for his children.

“In that case, maybe I should leave him alone.”

Beatrice stays silent for a minute, a pensive look on her face. “You know, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…You might be the distraction he needs.”

Alex chooses not to dwell on the feelings these words elicit in his chest. “What about you?”

“I will be perfectly fine, but I appreciate your concern.”

As the dance ends, he lets go of her and wishes her a good evening, to which she replies with a knowing smile.

Alex is left wondering what to do. Yes, he had come tonight hoping to see Henry and exchange a few words, even some teasing, because he loves nothing more than to see the other man squirm a little bit (and also the lovely pink shade tainting his cheeks.)

The library door is ajar, so he pushes it lightly, finding it mostly dark except for the golden glow created by the flames dancing in the fireplace. The occasional pop and hisses of the burning wood are the only sound in the room, giving it a comfortable and intimate atmosphere. Henry is sitting in front of the fire in a wingback chair with a contemplative look.

“Good evening,” Alex says softly, trying not to startle the man as he leans against the doorframe.

Henry blinks and looks towards the door. “Claremont-Diaz. Good evening.”

“Your sister told me you’d be here. And the door wasn’t closed, so…”

“You asked her?”

“Yes? Did I overstep ?”

“Damn, I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Henry mutters, and Alex pulls himself from the doorframe. This was a mistake.

“She told me about today. So if you wish to remain alone, just say the word, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Henry looks at Alex again, really looking at him this time as a fleeting emotion Alex can’t decipher crosses his face.

“I can be alone with you here,” he answers, and Alex is not sure how to take it, but it is not a dismissal, so he walks into the room and settles himself in the chair next to the young man before standing up again and pouring two glasses of brandy. He can’t speak for Henry, but he needs something to occupy his hands.

He sits back down, handing the glass to the other man, who takes it with a small ‘thank you’ before Alex takes a sip of his own and leans back in the chair.

“You know what I said that first night about seeing your father in London and admiring him. It was true. I met him in person once and got his signature on a photograph. It was one of the best days of my life. He was really exceptional.”

“Yes, he was,” Henry breathes out, his eyes not leaving the fireplace. Moisture lingers on the corner of his eyes, and he blinks a few times as if trying to ward off the unwanted tears. Alex doesn’t say anything more, letting him set the pace of the conversation.

Which is why he’s surprised by Henry’s following words.

“How did you become a vampire?”

“Really? You want to talk about me?”

“Was my question not clear?”

“Ok, but please remember you asked for it. I’m a lawyer, so I need to talk for a living, especially in a courtroom, but outside of it, I’m often encouraged to tone it down. I have some sort of mental instability, not exactly my fault then, and you would think that when you become a vampire, that shit would disappear, but well, it doesn’t. So here we are.”

Henry’s mask of grief is replaced with one of interest, and warmth fills Alex’s chest. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Alright then. 1803, we were living in Texas with my family. My father was a politician. Fighting for his people’s rights, especially slavery and education. That did not sit well with a lot of people. One night, we were all at home, having dinner, when people barged in and shot us all. My parents died instantly, but June - my sister- and I were shot in the shoulder for her and the arm for me, so we remained alive for a while.” He stops at the complete look of horror on Henry’s face.

“Your parents died in front of you?”

“I…I didn’t see them die because I was unconscious myself, but I saw them both being shot in the chest just before I was, so I knew that there was no chance of them surviving that. But then I was sure I would follow them anyway.”

“That is…That is terrible. I only heard about what happened to my father, and it’s been haunting me for three years, so I can only imagine…”

“It was 88 years ago. Or it will be in June. So, I had some time to grieve. I still have nightmares sometimes, though.”

Alex shivers because nightmare is putting it mildly. It has been years of waking up with his heart thundering in his chest, its erratic rhythm reverberating through his entire body, his every nerve electrified with the remnants of terror that refuse to dissipate, and trying to catch his breath, feeling like he was drowning. Sweat coating his skin, leaving it clammy against the sheets. For the longest time, June had been there, then Nora as well, to help him through the residual panic and for reality to settle around him again.

But now June was in another city, and he had to navigate the nocturnal terrors alone. He was grateful they had receded slightly over the past few years but couldn’t sleep without a light on.

The irony of being a vampire afraid of the dark was not lost on him.

“Anyway, one of my dad’s close friends was there with us that night. His name was Rafael Luna. He was a vampire. When he saw that June and I were still alive, he turned us and took care of us while we were adjusting.”

He remembers the first time he woke up, the hunger and cravings, the brutal reminder of his parent’s death but no time to dwell on it because they had to learn how to feed -on people - and control the urge just to rip the throats they were feeding on before mastering compulsion and let people go. Needless to say, if June caught on to it relatively quickly, his own experience was a bit more complicated, as his vampire-heightened senses paired with his mentally challenged brain definitely made his undead life incredibly difficult.

It took him more than a year to find his footing, but he did it, making his enhanced hyperfocused mind work to his advantage for once. Also, failing both June and Raf was not even an option.

He stops talking then, taking a sip of the glass he had forgotten in his hand. He expects Henry to look bored, disgusted, or worse, with a pitiful look on his face for the intellectually deficient vampire.

Except he’s not. He’s looking at Alex with undivided attention as if Alex had just told him the most captivating story he had ever heard, like those swashbuckling novels Alex used to read when he was younger.

Alex’s stomach flutters in quite an unusual way.

“And you’ve been a lawyer all this time? You’ve never wanted to try something else?”

“No. I’m good at it. But I never stopped and thought of what else I could do.”

“It’s not too late. You kind of have eternity in front of you.”

“Yeah…Eternity is a fucking long time, though,” he says with a laugh tainted with some bitterness. Upon seeing Henry’s surprised look, he deflects the conversation. “So, Henry…I assume you won’t use my vampire sob story against me ?”

Henry's lips twitch softly for the first time since Alex entered the room.

“I don’t know if you ever heard this,” the young slayer responds soothingly, “but firelight is magic. It makes time stand still. When you put out the lamps and sit by the glow of the firelight, there are no more rules. You can say what you want, do what you want, and be what you want. When the lamps are lit again, time starts again. Everything you said or did is forgotten. More than forgotten, it never happened.”

Silence falls around them comfortably, and for once, Alex doesn’t feel the need to talk to break it. That being said, he disagrees partly with Henry. He doesn’t want to pretend that their time together never happened.

“You have a way with words, your Majesty,” he finally says, his smile half playful, half admiring.

The slight twitch of Henry's mouth melts into a full smile. “We’re not even related to the Queen, Alex.”

His breath catches in his throat as a swarm of butterflies invade his stomach, and he grins. “Wait, did you just…”

Henry rolls his eyes.“Don’t make it a thing. Claremont-Diaz is kind of a mouthful.”

“Oh, sweetheart…You have no idea.”

The ‘yet’ is left unsaid but hangs heavily between them if Henry’s pink cheeks are any indication.

There is a knock on the door, and Bea appears with two coats hanging from her arm.

“Well, you too look cozy,” she remarks as she walks toward Henry, pushing back a lock of blond hair from his forehead. “And you certainly look less mopey.”

Henry huffs but gives her a fond look. As Alex watches their interaction, he’s reminded of the vacancy in his heart.

He really misses June.

“You’re ready to go?” Henry asks his sister.

“Ready if you are,” she answers with a questioning look towards Alex, who gets up.

“I suppose it’s time for me to go home as well. Lady Beatrice, Henry.”

“Good night, Alex,” Beatrice replies.

“Thank you,” Henry adds with a genuine smile, and Alex’s heart beats a little faster as he realizes something has definitely shifted between them.

Fuck.

****

They wait outside the mansion for their carriage, and Henry shivers slightly in the crisp April evening. Even though he’s glad to go home, he regrets the warmth of the library fire. But most of all, he regrets the warmth of golden brown eyes and heartfelt conversation.

Bea takes his arm. “So it wasn’t such a bad evening after all,” she says softly.

He smiles. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I miss him,” she whispers suddenly, and Henry presses a kiss on her forehead.

“I think he would be proud of us,” Bea continues, her tone wistful.

“He has always been proud of us.”

“Yes, but of what we have accomplished since we got here—with Percy, the shelters, and our life.”

The carriage arrives, and the groom hands the reins to Henry. He helps Bea climb into the vehicle. “I think he would be especially proud of you and the way you’re taking care of me.” He certainly wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Bea’s maternal ways and sisterly affection. She had always been the lighthouse driving him home, helping him navigate the pitfalls, and bringing him safe on the other side.

“Oh, that’s not exactly a chore. You’re low-maintenance.”

Henry shakes his head with a smile as he sits beside her. He clicks his tongue to get the horses walking and bumps his shoulder with hers.

“I love you, you know.”

She grins. “I love you too. It’s not that late, though. Want to go kick some vampire’s ass?”

Henry’s laugh resonates in the dark street.

****

Paris, France - Champ de Mars - April 1900

“Are you seriously telling me that you hunt vampires and other night creatures on a semi-regular basis, but you’re scared of getting into an elevator?”

The iron structure stands proudly against the Parisian sky, but Henry eyes it with a wary look. It is a construction wonder, and Henry heard that its A-shaped form was an homage to a woman named Adrienne Gustave Eiffel had been in love with. He had no idea if that rumor was true, but the fairy-tale dreamer in him liked the idea.

That doesn't mean he wants to climb on the damn thing.

“Not scared, it’s just…It’s very high.”

Alex grins. “300 meters to be exact, but we’re only going to the second floor, which is 115 meters high.”

Henry frowns, trying to stall a bit more. Not that he has any chance of succeeding. Once Alex has set his mind on something, it is an impossible task to distract him. Henry doesn’t even try. “But isn’t it closed at this time?”

Alex smiled smugly. “I have an arrangement with Gustave.”

“Darling, I’m pretty sure you’ve never met Gustave Eiffel.”

“Ok, no. But I know the next best person - the guy in charge of the visits. With a little convincing and a good wad of French money, he was extremely cooperative. I heard the sunset is lovely from up there. You’re coming, baby?”

Henry sighs, unable to deny him anything, least of all a little elevator ride, especially if it is to watch the sunset together from the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. And the excitement on Alex’s face is impossible to deny.

His vampire is nothing if not a big romantic at heart, and Henry loves him and his sometimes crazy ideas all the more for it.

They have been visiting the Paris Universal Exhibition all day, so finishing it like this is tempting.

He follows Alex to the entrance. Right now, people are leaving, and they are the only ones going upstairs. When the doors are closed, and the elevator ascends, Alex grabs Henry by the waist and pushes him against the wall. They haven’t had the opportunity to be alone all day, and Henry misses his touch.

The vampire kisses him first before letting his mouth wander along his jaw and neck, and Henry lets out a breathy sigh when he feels Alex’s fangs grazing his neck right where it is the most sensitive. His cock twitches with interest as he brings his hand to the nape of Alex’s neck, burying his fingers in the soft curls.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, darling,” he warns, panting softly.

The suggestive smirk on Alex’s face doesn’t help to calm him down. “Oh, but I intend to finish it, if not now, within the next two hours at least.”

Henry shivers at the delicious promise, and his other hand rests on his cheek. He softly kisses the corners of Alex’s mouth, where his canines are still apparent. Alex retracts his fangs, and they exchange another searing kiss, a prelude to more engaging activities in the sanctity of their hotel room.

When they step out on the second floor, they are alone. Henry spots a round table with a bucket holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“What are you up to?” he asks Alex, melting at his partner’s charming antics.

Alex shrugs. “I just wanted a romantic interlude with my favorite slayer.”

Henry leans and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek before Alex pulls him to the rail, and they take in the stunning view in front of them.

It has been a sunny, cloudless day, and as dusk settles, they can still see all the way to the Sacré-Coeur, behind which the sun is slowly descending, illuminating the city in hues of reds and oranges, blending seamlessly with the fading blue of daylight. Much closer is the Orsay train station and the Seine and its tranquil waters, and it fills Henry with a plenitude he only experiences when close to the wonderful man next to him.

Henry takes Alex’s hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles and trying to convey his love and gratitude.

“So, was it worth it?” Alex asks with a knowing smile.

“Absolutely worth it, my love.”

Alex opens the bottle of champagne and pours two glasses, handing one to Henry.

“To us,” Alex says, and they clink their glasses. He takes a deep breath and puts his glass back on the table. He bites his lower lip and straightens his waistcoat.

Henry raises his eyebrow at his apparent and sudden nervousness. “Something on your mind, dear?”

Alex chuckles and nods. “Actually, I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here.”

“Oh?”

He takes one of Henry’s hands, and Henry looks down. He always loved the contrast of his smaller, pale hands against his companion’s larger, brown ones.

Alex clears his throat. “So. We are both men.”

Henry lets out a chuckle. Not what he was expecting. “An astute observation, darling.”

Alex scoffs. “Yes, not my best introduction.”

“But still better than ‘On the dancefloor, I’m the slayer,” Henry teases him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Hen,” he groans, even though his eyes flicker with amusement. “That was nine years ago. You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”

“No,” Henry says, sipping his champagne, enjoying the effervescence and fruity taste on his tongue. It doesn’t provide the same euphoria as Alex’s kisses, but it is a close second.

“So, as I was trying to say before being rudely interrupted,” Alex continues, and Henry giggles, “It’s been nine years of pure, unadulterated happiness with you.”

Alex’s features become more serious, his gaze determined as his eyes cling to Henry’s, and Henry sobers up, feeling the atmosphere around them changing, a sudden apprehension and anticipation building at the bottom of his stomach.

Alex entwines their fingers together, and the touch makes Henry’s blood thrum through his veins. Alex picks up on this as his eyes darken with both lust and hunger.

“I’m not as good with words as you are. I can tell you that I love you like I have done every single day over the past nine years, but those words don’t even begin to cover the magnitude of my feelings for you. It kills me that I can’t tell the world that you’re mine. Fuck, I can’t tell anyone,” he laughs brokenly. “But I need you to know that I’m yours. You can have it all.”

He fishes into his pocket and opens his hand, revealing two simple gold bands, and Henry gasps as a rushing noise fills his ears, and his heart jolts with elation.

“This ring,” Alex continues with a watery smile, “is a promise that you’ll always be loved and you’ll never have to face the world alone.”

He shows the ring to Henry, and through blurry tears, Henry can see the word ‘Alex’ engraved inside. The exhilarating feeling of Alex slipping the ring on his finger is unparalleled to anything he’s experienced. His heart hammers so hard in his chest that he’s afraid it is going to burst out and bleed all over the iron floor of the Eiffel Tower.

“I give you my love, I give you myself, the good, the bad, and what’s yet to come,” Alex says reverently. And if this is the closest to wedding vows they will ever get, Henry considers himself the luckiest man in the world.

With trembling fingers, he takes the other ring, engraved with ‘Henry,’ and gathers his thoughts, as Alex deserves nothing less than words as heartfelt as his own.

“You are a menace,” he starts, and they both laugh at the familiar barb, which has become more of a term of endearment over the years.“I should have known you would pull something like this when you insisted on coming up here because your heart is so huge and giving, and I don’t know what I did to deserve a wonderful man like you. But I will do everything I can to be worthy of that love. I promise to support you during our shining moments and weakest hours. I’ll be listening to you for however long it takes for you to be heard. You are my forever.”

He slips the band on Alex’s finger. “I give you my love, I give you myself, the good, the bad, and what’s yet to come,” his voice cracking as he echoes Alex’s vows.

Alex takes his head between his hands, sealing their vows with a kiss as the sun disappears on the horizon, enveloping them in a comforting penumbra auspicious for exchanging tender words and promises of forever.

Henry loves this man. He loves him with all his heart and soul, and he will fight anything and anyone to ensure this precious, priceless bond between them remains unspoiled and intact. And if he loves to use his words, he’s also eager to show Alex how deep his devotion runs.

It’s in the way his fingers map Alex’s body as they are back in their hotel room, perusing it like a familiar ground he knows by heart but never tires of exploring over and over again.

It’s in every gasp, moan, and laugh escaping Alex’s throat as Henry makes it his duty to find every sensitive spot, every nerve-ending lighting his body on fire before crashing together in mind-shattering pleasure.

It’s in the way that, once the passion slows down and the afterglow settles, Henry lingers above Alex, their hips still connected, and as Alex grabs his side softly to pull out, Henry makes a protesting noise, unwilling to let go yet.

“No. Stay.”

He leans down to pepper kisses on Alex’s jaw and cheeks, blowing softly at his eyelashes and combing his fingers in his sweat-damp curls, eliciting an appreciative growl from a fucked-out, blissful Alex underneath him.

“I just want to worship my big bad vampire husband,” Henry whispers in his ear and a bright smile blooms on Alex’s face. Henry chuckles softly as he feels the cock inside him stir with renewed interest at his words. He wriggles a bit, enjoying the feeling of Alex still nestled deep.

Alex’s arms wrap around his body, pressing their chest together, uncaring of the mess on their stomachs.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers against Henry’s lips, and they lose each other in another soft, slow kiss.

If it all ends tomorrow, Henry thinks dazedly, the look in Alex’s adoring eyes, when he gazes up at him will make everything he’s ever done worth it.

Credit where credit is due :

1. I'm a Whedonverse girl through and through, so the Special Hell quote is from Firefly (You can't stop the signal)

2. The firelight quote is from the movie 'Firelight' with Sophie Marceau (which would make a great FP AU)

3. A special thanks to my beloved Robs @magentarivers whose lovely art inspire me (again!) for the very last scene of this chapter. It can be found here

#red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb fic #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #Henry the Reluctant Slayer #Sophie1973

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your-local-simp-writers · 22 days

Text

༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻

Hello!

We’re the dynamic duo behind “𝕐our 𝕃ocal 𝕊imp 𝕎riters,” just a couple of friends who love to get lost in the world of stories and games. We’re here to share our passion for writing and all the geeky stuff we can’t get enough of.

♡ About Us ♡

I’m 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 and I’m all about gaming and art. You’ll often find me with a controller in one hand and a comic book in the other. My better half, the yin to my yang. She’s the partner in crime, the sweet melody to my wild riffs, and the one who brings a touch of grace to our shared tales of adventure and heart, 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒! She is the other half of this storytelling team. We both love creating stories that’ll make you feel like you’re right there with the characters.

♡ Our Writing ♡

We write what we love, and we love what we write. Our stories are inspired by our current fascinations—be it a game, a movie, or a manga. If it’s interesting and fascinating to us, it’s fair game for our writing.

Most of our stories are “x female reader” because that’s where we feel most at home. Occasionally, we’ll write “x gender-neutral reader” pieces for a bit of variety. However, we generally steer clear of “x male reader” or “OC x canon” stories. We want to create a space where female readers can see themselves in the worlds we love so much.

❤︎ 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 '𝓈 Interests:

Gaming: I’m a huge fan of Kingdom Hearts, Batman Arkham games, Mortal Combat, Final Fantasy, Resident Evil, Doom 3, Phasmophobia, Five Nights At Freddy’s, Twisted Wonderland, Call of Duty, Halo 3 and 4, Sonic and Transformers. If it’s a game or relating to horror, chances are I love it.

Comics: Batman is my passion. I collect anything related to the Dark Knight, and my collection is my pride and joy.

Anime/Manga: I'm into One Piece, Princess TuTu, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Jujutsu Kaisen, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Kingdom Hearts, Sgt. Frog, Free!, HellSing, and a bunch more. I have also seen MHA, Fairy Tail, Dragon Ball, Soul Eater, Naruto, Castlevania, Diabolik Lovers and more.

Disney & Tim Burton: I’m a Disney kid at heart. My top 5 Disney movies are Treasure Planet, Cinderella 3, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, and The Princess and the Frog. And I’m all about Halloween and everything Tim Burton.

Music: I love RnB and Y2K music so much! However, you can usually find me listening to cutesy, cheesy love songs.

❤︎ 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒’𝓈 Interests:

Gaming: I’m definitely not the biggest gamer around, but I do love to play Roblox, Fortnite, and Minecraft! Sometimes I’ll also dabble in some fall guys, FNAF or Poppy’s Playtime. On Roblox, I love to play pretty much anything but pvp games due to the fact that I’m not the best at them. Horror games are probably my favorite, even though I’m a chicken!

Anime/Manga: My favorites are definitely Fairy Tail, Jojo’s bizarre adventure, Naruto, and Demon slayer. I’ve also watched MHA, Danganronpa, Yona of the Dawn, Food wars, High Rise Invasion, Angels of death, and more!

Disney and Tim Burton: I’m definitely a Disney girl! I love all Disney Princess movies, both animated and live action. My top three not in any particular order would have to be Tangled, The Little Mermaid, and Princess and the Frog. For Tim Burton, my favorites are the classics, The nightmare before Christmas and Corpse bride.

Books: I’m also a huge book girly! My favorite genre has to be fantasy/sci-fi. My favorite book series is The Lunar Chronicles, I definitely recommend it!

♡ Join the Fun ♡

This is an invitation to you, dear reader, to become a part of our narrative. Engage with us, inspire us, and let us inspire you.

So, come on in, get comfy, and let's share the joy of stories. The next chapter is always the best one, and it starts right here, with you and us. Requests are always welcome in the ask box! and even inquiries, should you have any!

With all the warmth in our hearts,

𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 & 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒

P.S: 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 drew the image, just so most people can get a idea of what we look like♡ AND THE G.M FIARY BOOK IS FOR FUN, for the pure shits and giggles TRUST

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razorblade180 · 1 year

Text

Let’s talk about content warnings!

Ya know at this point I think Rooster Teeth should do a viewer advisory warning for a volume in general instead of individual episodes so they can be a tad more descriptive. The only exception being bright light warnings on the episodes they are in. I see people complaining about why they weren’t hyper specific about what was in the episode. My brother In Christ, that would be a spoiler for then entire episode.

There’s only seven human characters and the runtime was 16 minutes. They can’t just be like “CW: dead body, suicide, lots of blood” and we won’t start narrowing down candidates.

Also, let’s be honest for ourselves for second here. This show has been doing things a person could see as triggering for years now. The main difference now is there’s nothing else to distract from it. How many people felt this way when Penny died, Adam was visibly stabbed through the chest, Oscar got pummeled, Tyrian’s tail was cut off, Salem broke in half violently; hell, the bloody body in Adam’s trailer, Weiss getting impaled, Weiss impaling Hazel; hell even when Roman was beating Ruby in V3?

Look, I get this serious didn’t start off with blood specifically, but it’s definitely been physically violent and brutal to a verity of characters for years now. Yes, last episode swung hard, but the vast majority of it was things this show been dabbling in. I just think it’s a little odd now people are going “Hey, that was dark” and not back when Vernal was screaming to death as Cinder dug her nails into her organs.

Here’s your informal PSA. We all know RWBY can get violent, brutal, and touch on uncomfortable topics dealing with mental instability. That should be in the back of everyone’s head when watching this show going forward. Now if they suddenly jump gore and horrific levels dismemberment similar to AoT, Demon Slayer, Akame ga kill, then by all means riot. I shall be there with you.

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #rwby talk #rooster teeth

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giggly-squiggily · 6 months

Note

Hello!!!! Puffs is an adorable name!!! May I request ler Giyu and lee Sanemi with sentence starter “Not again…”? If not that’s totally ok 😊

Also a while ago I sent in a Headcannon of that Giyu is a ruthless ler-I don’t know if you saw it-so this relates to that comment!!! -😇

Ooo, it's my OTP!!! I love sanegiyuu so much! I've gotcha covered, friend! ;)

CW: Swearing

“Erm..Shinazugawa..”

‘Not again..’ That was the first thing to cross Sanemi’s mind upon hearing his last name. They were dating for crying out loud! You’d think after a year they’d be on first name bases.

Feeling petty, Sanemi turned away from him, sticking his chin out with a grunt. That’ll teach him!

“Shina…” Giyu trailed off, seemingly taken aback by his boyfriend’s sudden change in body language. “Are you mad at me?”

Silence. Sanemi made it a point to sneak side eyes at him before puffing again, making it extra dramatic.

“...” Giyu made a small huff of his own. Sanemi didn’t have to turn around to picture the pinched expression on his face. The slight frown, the furrowed brow, the way his nose scrunched up all cute-

“Aha!” Sanemi yelped when his ribs were tasered, all but flying out of his seat. “Ah! Ahehahahaha! Shihiihihihhihit! Ghiihihiihihhiyu, yoohohu sohoohohhon of ahaha-”

“Oh, so you’re done ignoring me?” Giyu chided, glued to the other as he drilled his fingers into the center set of Sanemi’s rib cage. “Or did you just want me to tickle you?”

That son of a-

“Shuuhuhuhuhut the hehehheell uhuhuuhp! Geahhahahahah, fuhuhuhuuhck! Gihiihihihyu, doohoh-AH!” The wind Hashira squawked, doubling forward when Giyu brought his arms forward, scribbling into his belly. “NOHOHOHT THEHEHEHERE!”

“Tell me why you’re ignoring me!”

“CAUUHUHUHSE YOU KEHEHHEEEP CHAHHAHAHALLING MEHEHHEHE THE WROOHOHONG NAHHAHAME!”

“I-huh?” Giyu’s hands stopped, surprise and confusion touching his voice as Sanemi gasped for air. “But- your name is Shinazugawa-”

“That-” Sanemi huffed, twisting around so he was facing Giyu properly. “Is what I mean. I don’t want you to call me that. Everyone here calls me that.”

“So…” Giyu blinked, seeming a tad lost. Sanemi thanked his lucky stars that Giyu had many traits to make up for his obliviousness.

“So drop the formalities! Call me ‘Sanemi’!”

“Oh…” Realization hit him, flushing his cheeks and widening those unfairly blue eyes. With a shy nod, he raised his chin. “Alright…Sanemi.”

Oh. Oh that did funny things to his heart. Sanemi cleared his throat, willing the heat creeping up his neck back down. “Glad we understand each other, Giyu.”

“Hm…can I go back to tickling you?”

“Sure- wait! Wait hold o-ohoohohohn!”

Send me a pairing a sentence starter and a pairing and I'll write a 300 word dabble for it!

#Puffs #tickle #tickle dabble #sentence starters #demon slayer #sanegiyuu #giyu tomioka #sanemi shinazugawa #trying a new way of writing them hehe~#I hope you like it! :D #tw: swearing

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devourbabydevour · 7 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic, October 1st, Cemetery, 819 words, cw: light suggestions of violence and innuendo

Jegulus: Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU: "I May Be Dead, But I'm Still Pretty."

“Get lost, James. What part of vampire slayer don’t you get. See this pointy thing? This. Goes. Here. Quit skulking around here all the time. I am trying to work”

Regulus Black, cheerleader by day, vampire slayer by night (and also sometimes by day) points at James’s chest with an accusatory finger on the last word. A chest which is far too exposed for a cemetery after midnight in January.

Even though, it’s Sunnydale there's seasonally appropriate chill in the air and anyways Regulus does not need to be subject to potter’s pomposity — promiscuity even!

Whose chest glistens in the moonlight like that, anyway? It’s obscene is what it is. Regulus does not need these distractions. Between Barty’s latest demon related schemes and Evan’s dabbling in witchcraft, Regulus needs no more to deal with. That plus his parents ever increasing draconian punishments and restrictions he is constantly having to jump hoops to get around to keep up with slaying duties. His parents would rather bury their heads in the sand than face what's right in front of them-- and won't tolerate anything but the same from their children. Since Sirius left they were paying even more attention than ever to Regulus. He felt just about ready to crack. Plus exams are ever looming.

And to top it all off for some reason Potter seems hell bent on bothering him.

Pestering him--even. With small talk. And little glances. Always popping up, thinking Regulus needs something from him— be it a more accurate translation of yet another apocalyptic text (his own language skills are just fine enough to read: "you are all fucked, must be Tuesday" in many a language --thank you very much), or he'll try to help decipher the latest news of who might have come to town this week (but Regulus has that covered, knows a thing or ten about how to grease the right palms for information) --or worst of all --the incident last month with a last minute rescue from some damn vamps.

As If.

Regulus totally had that nest of vampires right where he wanted them --even if he was momentary tied up when James arrived.

Regulus has a damn job to carry out and he does it well. McGonagall and Dumbledore say he's best slayer in a generation. Thing is there's only one slayer in a generation. But a slayer's life is so short he supposes they've both seen their fair share of slayers by now.

He doesn’t need Potter’s help. It might not be a job he chose but a boys got to what a boys got to do. And Regulus has no say in the matter. When McGonagall showed up and spelled it all out for him Regulus — the golden child (the one his parents had created of convenience and their own desires for him) had resisted tooth and nail but ultimately when creatures of the night keep knocking down your door and the ones you care about are in danger -- It’s time to face up to the inevitable.

“Is that so? Then why don’t you do it already, love? And what was that? James-- that’s the first time you called me that-- used my name I mean. I think I'm seeing god right”

Scoffing "Well don’t get used to it Potter. And anyway I think that ship has sailed Potter. The already dead don't get to go to one of the nice places. But if you want to push your luck and continue trying to offer "your so called help" then I'm willing to bet there's a warm and cozy spot somewhere far, far away waiting for you that I'm happy to help send you to."

"Oh, love. I may be dead but I'm still pretty. And Regulus Arcturus Black, I don't think you need my help. I just love spending time with you. I like your quips and your threats and your power. It's incredible, I-- "

And no none of that. Regulus doesn't need Potter talking such nonsense. No. More. Distractions. Especially from conniving, meddling vampires who are also dirty brother stealers.

“Just give me one reason at all and you’ll be tasting wood. The only reason I haven’t dusted you yet is because Sirius likes you. And trusts you. For some reason. But make no bones of it—

James interrupts to start to say "I knew you still loved your brother, enough to spare me even."

Regulus pulls a dagger out of his thigh holster and presses the tip of it to James clavicle. Knocking him against a behemoth of a stone scene of the crucifixion. Name engraved at the base reads: “Salazar Slytherin”

“I will slice and dice and not think twice.”

“Kinky, pet. You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these nights” James presses a cold hand to his cold chest as though in awe.

“Fuck off, Potter. You don’t have a heart.”

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer au

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nagirambles · 7 months

Note

Hi rambles I was wondering what WIPS are you working on ? If you don’t wanna answer this no worries !

Oh damn this question. I have quite a few ideas stuffed in my drafts that I couldn't churn out if my life depended on it but here's a quick once-over of the vague stuff in my drafts that are too bits and pieces to become a coherent piece on ao3

#Regarding Chef Lucy - where Lucy aspires to be a chef, rather than a writer. She's a little unhinged when it comes to rare recipes, bushfire cooking, and figuring out how dragon slayers eating elements work. It's based on an old anon ask I answered that continued to a chain.

Thanks for Tuning In! - a radio-format fic where Levy runs Fairy Tail's official B-cube account (that's an Eden's Zero thing, but we're still in FT don't get it wrong) and guild shenanigans ensue in snippets, chaotic live-streamer style.

If an Insert story was written like a Manhwa - someone (implied to be a sage-old jaded warrior from another fantasy dimension) gets transmigrated into Cana Alberona shortly after her mother died, and they have a body-sharing situation as Cana makes her way to Fairy Tail. Thus far we have met very pre-canon Jura and have been adopted by a local trading group that love her fortune-telling luck.

Luck be in the Air Tonight (One Piece x Fairy Tail) - set post-tartaros. Instead of staying in Crocus as a journalist, Lucy sets out to an alternate dimension to seek out Aquarius’ key. She follows the Strawhats on this journey as their Chronicler.

Through Hardships to the Stars - a dark guild that dabbled in human experimentation created eight pseudo-etherios 'human weapons' meant to imitate the demons of Zeref's book but never succeeded. After that guild was destroyed, those children were spread out between guilds around Fiore to 'rehabilitate' them into human society. Lucy joins Fairy Tail, only to learn belatedly that Levy Mcgarden is one of those children. The public sees them as monsters unsafe to wander the world without a leash. This story was mainly made because I wanted to give less-used characters a chance to shine. (None of the eight children are dragon slayers.)

So there we go! That's them all. If anyone's interested I can continue rambling about them ig

#just a ramble #fic related rambles #fairy tail

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