#demon woman can't draw

[spitzyyyy]

i'm noticing a pattern.

[liliaasyoursexyvampiredaddy]

"😡You can't love Rashta!! She's killed people and committed crimes!!! 🤬"

Jokes on you, almost all of my favourite characters committed crimes too and my ocs committed crimes too

#And I love this hit otome games with demons who have done demon things #Plus there're red flag male characters that still got love so why can't I love Rashta? #your honor please I love her #I have nothing against characters doing horrible things #But I draw the line at hurting a pregnant woman #the remarried empress #rashta

[supermarine-silvally]

🌊 + Minako pls?? would ask this for Yara but that just seems mean aksnaksn -🍂

OC outfit ask meme: 🌊 ~ Swimming/Pool

ohmygod this took soooo long but my swordsmith girlie is finally ready for swimming!! (Mina probably doesn't even go in the water but instead spends the whole time modifying a water gun to make it more effective lol if she looks vaguely crazy here it's because she very much is, just like her Uncle Hotaru)

also I know swimsuits like this didn't exist in Taisho-era Japan so this is probably in the Kimetsu Academy universe or smth now that the Hashira Training arc is coming out in spring 2024, expect to see more Minako in the near future!

#oc: haganezuka minako #my ocs #my art #demon slayer oc #kny oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #aaaahhh after using oda's style for awhile it feels nice to draw a more naturally-proportioned woman again lol #mina my beloved i can't believe this is my first digital drawing of her #chats with alvita #asked and answered

[kommunisti]

can’t believe they made a new insidious movie. released almost on my birthday too. can’t wait for a hd version so i can enjoy this ½ star movie in all it’s glory

#is it even profitable to make these i feel like the conjuring at least somehow draws in a crowd #but is anyone like yes can't wait for a new insidious movie where they uhh solve the mystery of umm #like it's about NOTHING there is no point it's the conjuring but with less swag #there's that darth maul demon that has beef w/the old lady but then later it was that old woman instead? #''why do you watch them'' you wouldn't understand the road a hater must take #txt

[multi-fandom-imagine]

───── ❝ Kᥲᑲᥱᑯoᥒ ❞ ─────

↳Kabe-don (“wall hit”) is the act of the man slapping his hand on the wall next to the woman, pinning her in position by his proximity.

This was the first time you've stepped foot into the Overlords casino. It was interesting place, you'd never thought you'd see so many sinners in one place. Your eyes draw in by the flashing lights and various sounds. You couldn't help but be drawn into it all, you let yourself wander around taking it in though it was the loud laughter that caught your attention.

Slowly making your way towards the sound, you finally noticed him. The casino's Overlord himself, Husk.

Hiding behind one of the slots, you watched as he played with the cards. You couldn't turn your gaze away. You heard the rumors about his looks but you didn't expect him to be that handsome.

You weren't quit sure how long you were watching him, you didn't even notice some demon whispering in his ear. The Overlord's ear twitching until his gaze landed on you though he barely had a chance to react as you bolted out of the casino.

But that wouldn't be the last time you visited the casino, you couldn't help yourself. You didn't know why you were drawn to the place, okay that was a lie you knew the reason was due to Husk. He looked so charismatic, so handsome. You couldn't help but feel giddy over watching him swindle idiots out of their money. Part of you hoped that he saw you, that he'd invite you over to the table.

Did he notice you? You hoped that he liked the dresses you wore, maybe he caught a whiff of your perfume.

Husk wasn't an idiot, he liked it when you watched him. He liked the feeling he got when he saw your cute little face trying to hide around the slot machine. You being shy to even approach him was just an added bonus but he knew he had to meet you, he was going to see how shy you really were.

Stepping into the casino, you gave a cautious look around as you made your way to his table. A frown forming on your lips when you spotted him not sitting in his usual chair. You were hoping this would have been your chance to actually speak to him.

Sighing, you dropped your shoulders as you started make your way towards the exit of the casino. Your head lowered until you heard a small grunt behind you. Turning around, your eyes went as you spotted the very man you were hoping to see. A squeak escaping your lips as you backed up in shock, your back hitting the wall.

You didn't even get a chance to react as Husk slammed his hand's on either side of you. Claws digging into the wall as a slow smirk slowly formed on his face. Wings twitching with excitement, he let his tail curl around drag up your leg.

"Can't run away now, huh, Sweetheart~"

#drabbles #drabble #overlord #overlord husk #overlord!husk #husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #husk hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husker x reader #husker x you #husk x reader #husk x you #husk x y/n

[merakiui]

madness of duke venomania, but it's azul. >:D women have started going missing in your village. no one knows what's happening. your lover (riddle) assures you that all will be well. he's here to keep you safe. you have nothing to fear.

and yet, in spite of that, you're the next lady to disappear.

azul, who has made a contract with a demon to make himself irresistible to all, is loved and revered in the manor in which he resides. hidden deep within the forest, it's a place no one knows of. women come, but they never go. it is here where he, who has never known the feeling, is loved. he's fancied at every hour. it's a marvelous thing. out of everyone in the harem, however, you're his favorite. his dearest darling. his sweet childhood friend. even when you mocked and ridiculed him, he thought you were the prettiest. you've since forgotten about him, having grown and matured into a wonderful lady. a lady who caught the eye of that red-haired royal tutor. but azul can forgive you and your forgetful nature. after all, he was a gross, ugly thing in his childhood—someone hardly memorable. of course you would forget him.

but now it's okay because he finally has you and all the affection he could ever want. you fall into bed with him, entangled sweetly in the sheets. you look at him like he hung the stars. you kiss him, embrace him, whisper all manner of saccharine things. you love him, so sickly enchanted that the thought of leaving him never crosses your mind. it can't. he won't allow it. you wear sheer, satin nightgowns for him and giggle when he trails his fingers up your arms to reach your shoulders, peeling the fabric off like he's unwrapping a gift. this sort of infatuation is silky-smooth, dubiously reciprocated, and yet with enough delusion it's real and raw.

riddle never gives up searching for you. he catches wind of rumors about a monster holed up in a mansion. could that be where you've gone? the locals whisper about it: a demon who can enchant and tempt even the most unwavering woman. riddle feels himself growing ill with every bit of information he learns. knowing what he must do, he dons a pretty dress, a wig, and some makeup. He hides a dagger within the frills of his gown, its blade glistening with a potent poison. he's determined. danger be damned; he'll find and save you.

azul embraces him like he does every woman, far too full of himself to realize the con. it's when he feels the sharp, stabbing pain in his abdomen that he draws away, his pompous façade failing. he looks on in horror, blood seeping through his clothes, as riddle tears the wig off to scowl at him. the vermillion-stained dagger is held tightly in his other hand.

oh. he was tricked.

azul collapses, his palms pressing against the wound in an effort to halt the bleeding. it's no use. the poison digs deep, a fatal foil. with the spell effectively broken the women, who were once so wrapped up in him—so ensorcelled—begin to flee. he watches them go, his expression twisted in pain. but nothing hurts more than when you step over him on the cold tiles, striding towards the door. azul reaches out for you with a blood-stained palm. he looks pitiful. weak. sad.

you turn to look at him. his eyes are wide and panicked, tears rolling down his cheeks in rivulets. he'll die alone here. you don't quite care.

with your hand sliding into riddle's, you scoff at him and turn away.

he begs you to wait, to come back, to listen to him. please... please don't leave him. don't go! he hasn't told you he loves you yet!

#meraki mumbles

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt.1

Encounter (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Guys. I am so sorry. I don't think that Arlecchino oneshot is being posted tomorrow. 😿Trust that it will be posted this weekend. Take this as an apology (I am fr spoiling y'all Arle fans) for the pushback. This is a repost to something I submitted as an anon to @/megistusdiary so there's a chance you've already seen this. It was written a while ago so quality is not up to par. This is the Black Butler inspired demon au! that I talked about in my poll, check it out if you want a little bit more on this concept. (Thank you guys for voting in it! :33 I'm looking forward to writing the oneshots). Series Masterlist Content Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence

Everything hurts. It burns, burns, burns, and you can't feel your limbs and your vision fades in and out. Your broken form twitches on the ground, and as your assailants approach you, ready to wrench the remaining life out of you slowly and painfully, with your final burst of energy and concentration, you let out a guttural screech, a summoning spell spewing from your raspy throat and bloodied teeth. 

At first, you think nothing happens. They stalk you, unfaltering despite what you have just called for. Wearing teeth-baring grins and depraved intentions, they near your crumpled body, with their dirty, despicable hands reaching out towards you. Your half-lidded eyes shut fully, and you heave out a sigh of resignation, giving up the futile struggle of staying alive. 

You hear it first before you actually see it. A sound distinct only to stilettos clicking against the ground. It jerks your attention immediately, and you twist your head slowly to face the oncoming figure. Black heels with gold adornment catch your eye, and then--

"Well, well, looks like I found the doll that called me," you hear a deep, feminine voice sibilates, voice reverberating throughout the chamber. Your gaze slowly trails up the newcomer's figure, and the white clothing, snow-white hair, and feminine features cause you to mistake her as an angel. Red-crossed pupils meet with yours. A shiver works its way up your spine but you stare in awe regardless. What kind of human was this?

One of your tormenters inquires rather rudely about the woman and storms towards her haughtily, ignorant of the fact he has just sealed his fate. There's an audible, irate click of her tongue, then a snap echoes the room. For a brief moment, your sight is filled with just red, and then your eyes widen as the aggressor bursts into a beautiful explosion of blood and guts. She walks past where once the man stood without pause, now just a puddle of blood, tutting at the blatant disrespect of the formerly alive human. Her feet stop just before you and her shadow looms over.

"A-arle...cchino?" You croak weakly as your hazy gaze sets on her. She looks so handsome, beautiful like a guardian angel, even when she's covered in red. Her lips curl up slightly and she crouches down to hook an arm behind your back and knees, lifting you bridal-style. Heat radiates from her cold-blooded being and it is so much more comforting than the icy hardness of the floor. You immediately bury your face into her shoulder while your needy hands grip onto her coat out of desperation and fear. Beneath the intense iron smell of blood, she smells of something floral, you noted with dulled surprise. 

"That is me, the Knave. And what have you called me for?" She purrs from above, repositioning you in her arms so she could support you with one arm instead of both. 

You give one single glance behind your shoulder towards the now cowering group of people, their behavior reminding you of feeble sheep rather than the bloodthirsty pack of wolves. You think that you'd like lamb chops after all of this. 

Turning your head back, you suck in a steady breath, your voice unwavering and clear despite being muffled into her clothes. "Kill them." 

"As you wish." 

Even as she draws out the sweetest, most revolting of screams from the remaining alive people, you find peace in your arms. You don't watch, instead, opting to rest your head against her and try to fall asleep to your former captors' begs of mercy. A hand combing through your hair wakes you up. You admire her sharpened red nails and her black hands, so contrasting against her unblemished and perfect skin but pretty all the same. It looks nice, sifting through your hair, it feels right, it feels perfect, even if they're dipped in blood.

"Well, I suppose we can work out the contract at a later time. For now, rest, my dear," her voice is soft and it lulls you to sleep in her arms. She tucks your head underneath her chin and walks away from the bloodbath, her darling wrapped tightly close to her.

#procrastination goes crazy :( #trying to get the oneshot done I promise 🙏 #i wish i didn't have anything to do on my spring break :( #arlenation fr eating good this week #prolly going to post arle at least daily for the next few days #do you guys think I should make “Arlecchino is a ___ person” a series? #i'm already trying to cook up tomorrow's Arlecchino blurb #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #edgeray.blog #edgeray.writes

[schwarzkatje]

ellie hates you. part 2

a/n: gosh i sure hope you like it depraved. go here for part 1

"fucking coward".

yeah. that pretty much sums up how ellie feels about herself.

"stupid fucking coward".

correction. guess the list just goes on.

the way she had just stormed out of your cabin after eating you out like she had never done to any other girl and after having set her intentions straight, was more than enough material to earn herself such a title.

and by the way, what had her plan been exactly, mh? humiliate you? perhaps, even hoping for some kind of disgust elicited in you? maybe... a little resistance? she had hoped you would have loathed it and instead she got an hungry kitten in heat with moans too high pitched to forget and a pussy so creamy she regrets not having slapped it to see some droplets of juice spurting.

the more she spirals down the black hole that is you, the more she is torn between the overlapping of the ever so present series of events that just occurred, and those which she swears is willing to feed her pride to the first demon she would summon to have them happen.

if only she hadn't been such a pathetic hypocrite, that is.

thus, there she lied. on her bed, alone, with your taste infiltrating her mouth and all her other senses as though you involuntarily tormenting ellie during every goddamn second of her daily life and routine was news.

she had fucked up so bad. so, so fucking bad. for this reason, she may as well let everything go downhill and dance on her own shattered pride and dignity.

with the first hand that responded her instincts, ellie finds herself massaging her crotch through her boxers. closing her eyes adds to the depravity, and thus she goes for it.

her scent is palpable, so much so that her wetness pales in comparison to the strong force with which it hits ellie's nostrils.

and certainly her mind doesn't sit back and let the sheer sensations do all the work. not when it is the most efficient and powerful and filthy tool ellie has.

with such a rotted brain she wastes no more than two seconds to recall how you had sobbed wetly, lips recollecting what was left of your sanity with the sole purpose to beg ellie to keep going, to keep on licking you, to continue her punishment.

but not only that. as ellie discards her underwear and draws confused circles on her clit, she furiously squints her eyes, as though this would accelerate the process of creating even more mental images of you.

and that is how ellie starts tracing the outline of a draft for the continuation of before, once that never happened because of her cowardice. a continuation which involves ellie raising to her feet, flipping you over the counter while hoisting one of your legs to have your pretty hole spread beyond shame.

a scenario full of hair pulling, spanking and even more tears, even more degrading words to which you nod because deep down you know how much of a dirty slut you are and how you need a woman like ellie to remind you your place.

an imaginary alternative to the past that has ellie taking full advantage of your overexposed position to let her own pussy collided against yours, perfectly taking in the shape of one another.

her own clit screaming to meet yours again and again and again until it becomes impossible to distinguish which one of you is closer to madness.

despair is ellie's primary driving force and the responsible for her brutal grip on you hips, deprived of free movement and obliged to follow her pace, the one ellie oh so lucidly wanted to maintain then and there.

her clit doesn't stop fucking your pussy from behind and you can't decide if what is making you roll your eyes the most is when the throbbing bud meets its twin or when it almost gives the illusion of penetrating your moist hole.

ellie will have to wait for another masturbation session to decide how you are going to act and which one of the two options is making you come undone in her fantasy because she is now convulsing on her own hand, while her head contorts in an unnatural position.

but that is all ellie can aspire to do when you and now she too are sabotaging her stupid fucking coward self.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x reader smut #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie smut #ellie x you #the last of us smut #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #loser!ellie #loser ellie

[the-avs]

Promo~?

As the camera flickers to life, thanks to some fiddling by a man in a blue suit, you were able to see four individuals. The TV-faced man sat back down, sighing and breathing heavily, as though he had just performed serious labor. On the far left, just beside the TV-headed man, was another man with red hair and deer ears, and a sinister smile painting his lips as he sipped on what looked like black coffee. On the other side of the TV man, there was another man smoking a cigar with pink fumes swirling around the room, and wearing a large red coat with striped neck fluff. And finally, on the far right, there was the only girl in the room, a young lady with red, white, and black swirled hair, scrolling on her phone with a bored expression. She appears the most trendy of them all in terms of her clothing.

"Phew..." the TV man panted, turning to face the deer-eared man beside him. "Fuck, Alastor, why did you insist on this camera?" he demanded between breaths, the deer man simply lowering his mug from his lips and setting it down onto a coaster on the table.

"Ah, tsk, tsk, darling. You simply don't know the difference between class and 'trendy'. Rest assured, an older camera will do us just fine," the man assured. He then tilted his head, his smile never dropping, although he looked confused. "So I suppose it's on then, yes?"

"The fuck- Of course it's on! We're rolling! Fuck, let's just go down the line. Vel, you first, because I can't breathe," the TV man insisted, drawing out a groan from the girl. She didn't put her phone down, but she did spare you a look, looking at you with a bored expression.

"Fine. Name's Velvette, youngest overlord and ruler of social media 'n shit. Yadda yadda, you get the gist, don't be a dick, don't be a fashion disaster, and we'll get along fine," she listed as though it was nothing before quickly returning her gaze back to her phone.

The man beside the young woman gave a sinister smirk, a sickening look of lust painting his already creepy face. "Heya, sweet cheeks. Name's Valentino, owner of the Pride Ring's porn industry. Need a guy, a girl, something in between? I got you. I also accept 'sir' or 'daddy'~." Creep. Luckily, the attention is quickly taken off of him when the TV-headed man feigns a cough to get your attention.

"Ignore him, ignore him," he tried to laugh it off and be nonchalant. Valentino was still creepy, though. "I'm Vox, of course, the CEO and main engineer of VoxTek and numerous other products you may have heard of, including Voot Floops, VVs, the sound system Valkyrie, and of course, the Vogitek music app, not to mention VoxTube and the like. Pleased to make your acquaintance~" he said in a charmingly fake, yet professional tone, clearly attempting to maintain the appearance of the group's leader.

"Vox, darling, this isn't an advertisement," the man beside Vox said with a chuckle, a Cheshire grin spreading on his face. "Greetings, you wayward sinners! I'm certain most of you already know of me, but for formalities and politeness sake, I'll introduce myself. You may know me as the Radio Demon, my name is Alastor, darling! A pleasure to meet you, certainly, quite a pleasure! Now then, you see, we on the AVs have been rather bored as of late, and we'd like to socialize with those around us, so... would you be so kind as to give us a promo, dear~?"

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed!! :D ))

@human-monokuma @unknown-ultimates @ultimate-rider @pizza-for-my-friends @bartender-husk @bigkaijubaddie @hellhound-loony @hoshi-neko-hikari and anyone else!! Tagging is hard lmao-

#📱 — the internet princess ◆ velvette #🔞 — the simping pimp ♥︎ valentino #🖥 — the tv star ★ vox #📻 — the radio demon ♠︎ alastor

[lazyelie505]

Lucifer x fem!Reader

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

(we were enough)

*not proofread so sorry if there's errors!!

*one shot

*fluff, a small hint of angst?, cute ending, reader is a lucky b*tch/hj

— — —

It was a weird feeling, it's not something she didn't expect to feel.

Was there a reason?

When has she felt this way?

Seeing his smile gracing his features, the soft wrinkles in the sides of his eyes when he squints, the addicting sound of his voice always sends butterflies inside my stomach, it fills up till it makes her want to spill it out.

How did this happen?

A simple conversation turning to a stomach churning affection that can make one's heart beat faster than the speed of light. Is it possible to feel this way?

His protective demeanor, his laughable self, his charming personality and his successful way of creeping into one's heart and occupying each and every corner. He's a flawed man, a wronging yet he tries, he proves he can, a single word and he'll obliged, all for the sake of being shaped into a man she loves like carving a sculpture to the artist's way of perfection. He was determined to be his lady's perfect man, from her favorite man in books, to the man in her drawings, to the sight of a perfect picture.

He didn't expect anything in return for being loved in return was enough to fill the man's heart. Awareness to the happiness of his muse was enough. A reason to change for the better, a chance to be loved by the one he truly cares for.

Can a man really become this perfect?

A ruler of hell who's destined with heavenly characteristics that it was almost impossible to believe he was the ruler of all hell. The sin of Pride yet he was the first man who stole the women's hearts by his ambitious self from an egoistic petty of a man named Adam. A charming one, he is. Although in return, he was banished for wanting to give his dreams a chance to be a reality. All backs turned against him.

Then he met you.

His muse, his perfect sight, a sculpture made to perfection, a fine art that it felt too good to own. Her beauty was the true definition of heavenly beauty. A beauty of flaws, something unique that he can love. She was easily seen as a flaw. To thick or thin, to smooth or rough, to balanced or unbalanced, to tall or short. She defies the supposedly standard for a woman's perfection. In his eyes, she was perfect and a beautiful flaw. A beauty he can't turn away from. She was loved, the day he laid his eyes on her. It pained him to see her treat herself badly just to be loved by others. He wanted to prove to her that she was enough.

Yet, hypocrisy is something all humankind, even heaven's angels to hell's demons, will always possess. How can he prove she's enough when he himself can't be enough to his eyes?

He was a fallen. A disgrace to all heavenly figures. A ruler who brought evil to mankind. Even if his intentions were pure, his pride got the better of himself. He lost everything he once dreamed of. How can he prove it?

“You're enough.”

“Darling, you are enough.”

It almost sounds like a chocolate covered lie. It wasn't enough.

“My love, you are the most beautiful creation I had the honors to lay my eyes upon.”

He never gave up. It would be a disgrace as the sin of Pride, the ruler of Hell. Because she was the essence of perfection, he did everything to be the one she desired, to the style, personality, and charm.

Yet he wonders, how come nothing much has changed? How come she smiles and forgets her flaws without him doing something drastic to his character?

She was loved, knowing he was willing to love her. To make her see what he sees.

“ Luci? My dear, you are just enough. ”

“ But I'm not. I wasn't and will never be enough. Please, my dear love, change me to the man who deserves each of your love. Then I will be enough. “

He begged, kneeling down before his beloved, his pride leaving his body, mind, heart, and soul, as he looked up to her with love lingering in his crimson eyes. She didn't ask for much. She didn't change him much. Because he was enough.

“Being able to be selfless, to lower your pride, to show me that I'm enough, is what I consider for you to be enough.”

They gave a heartfelt laugh and caressed his cheeks, softly as a feather glazing one's skin.

“I didn't expect the Ruler of Hell, the Sin of Pride, to kneel down before a lowly sinner. Willing a sinner to change you in order to make me feel loved, is not usually what a man like you would do. Who wouldn't fall for that? My dear, proving that you're willing to do anything for us, it should be enough.”

His eyes swelled with tears, touched by her words. He couldn't help himself. He felt what was supposed to be heaven, his lips fitting perfectly to hers. A match perfectly made in either Heaven or Hell. They experienced love that they thought they wouldn't feel again. An emotion they weren't bound to taste as punishment for their sins.

Yet they yearned for each and every affection, enjoying it as if it was their last meal. Ravaging with pleasure, lust clouded their eyes, it was a sinful sight to behold, yet their endearment was innocent as Heaven portrays it in their words.

“I love you like how I love my ducks”

She couldn't help but give a light chuckle.

“I love you as much as how you love your cute little ducks.”

“How about me? Am I cute?”

He teased but his eyes were filled with nothing but adoration.

“No~”

“Aw come on!”

The end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

ig i should post this quick lucifer fic that i wrote on my friend's sleepover because i was high on caffeine and couldn't sleep:'))) i hope you all enjoy it<333

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #short fiction #oneshot #fluff #cute #hazbin hotel lucifer

[raydays-swap-au]

Rayday's Swap AU ~ Emily

Finally got around to the main woman of the show! I really love how she turned out, like, a lot. ( She looks like such a cutie patootie in me and my friends' opinion. )

More information about the design + "sprites" under the cut ( includes 2 alt hairstyles )

Hair style - I literally couldn't pick what to go with for her. Like, I wanted her to be different enough from canon!Charlie, but I also didn't want to give her a bun since both my swap!Velvette and swap!Rosie designs have that hairstyle. In the end I landed on giving her a ponytail for her ( since that was the option that won in the poll I posted, otherwise she would've gotten a bun. ) But I couldn't really stop myself and made 2 non-canon alt hairstyles, including the bun version.

Heart theme - While this theme isn't visible on canon!Charlie, her full demon form does have hearts in it ( mainly in her tail and on her dress. ) Emily, on the other hand, seems to sor of have a diamond-shape thig going on. I decided to switch their symbols, not only because that's what I've sort of done with my previous designs, but also because the diamonds on canon!Emily's dress turns to eyes in her partial angel form, and that I draw braids with hearts so yeah.

Outfit - There isn't anything too notable about canon!Charlie's outfit, as most of her strong character design characteristics ( in my opinion ) lie in canon!Charlie's hair and face. This isn't to say it's a bad thing, as I did pretty much the same here for Emily ( working in my favor considering Emily also has a good chunk of her defining features in her face and hair. )

Subtle eye changes - If you take a close look at Emily and Charlie's eyes you can see I gave swap!Emily the same type of irises as canon!Charlie. Why did I do this? Well, the answer is I decided to swap their species!

Why I swapped Charlie and Emily's species - Simple: canon!Charlie being a hybrid between a fallen angel and a human/sinner is pretty much intrinsic to her character. The same goes for other characters like Lucifer, Sera, Adam, Lilith, Eve, etc as what they are and the roles that comes with that shaped their part in Hazbin Hotel's story pretty drastically.

Demon form - At the moment I currently only have a rough sketch of her demon form completed, but either way it's still up for change, so I won't say anything concrete about it here. I'll likely create a regular illustration to show off this design at some point though, similarly to how I did with swap!Vox's true face. Just don't take my word on it cuz uh yeah forcing myself to draw will not be fun :'3

And now for the sprites ( including the alt hairstyle ones )

She looks so adorable I literally can't :')

#rayday's swap au #hazbin hotel swap au #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel swap au emily #hazbin hotel emily

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Can we take a moment and talk about

Miguel, Hobie, and the Black!Reader

a.k.a Black Men aren't the only one who date black women so why are there only Black!Readers for black characters????

Don't think anyone has said it but I would like to see Miguel with some Black readers/Black OCs.

Like, I wanna see Miguel with a Boujee black woman, a loud one, a meek one, a stallion, a petite one-

I just wanna see Miguel x Black!Readers and Miguel x Black!OCs.

Black people are everywhere, in every fandom.

So black readers should be giving rep everywhere - not just with radical black characters like Hobie

Black women and black people in general IRL have our features demonized or looked down upon. In media, in the beauty industry, the fashion industry, hair industry, you name it. Our skin tones are 'too dark' to match well with makeup, our bodies too curvy or different, or hair too thick and hard to manage.

I think having characters openly express interest in them is radical - whether the character themselves are black or not.

The reason the Black Representation within Hobie romance fics stands out so much because every other character LACKS that.

In almost every other x reader fandom, black people and our features are ignored and erased for 'sweeter' things like blushing or 'running their fingers through your hair'

Like... Why can't there be a fic where Miguel compliments his Black partners hair. Or tries soul food?

You don't have to be a radical leftist like Hobie to find black people attractive.

So there's no reason for black!Reader to be confined to Hobie - or black characters at all.

You can write Dean Winchester with a Black!Reader. Or Sherlock Holmes, or Hobie Brown, or Miguel O'Hara.

Attraction to black people is so often seen as a fetish - that most white people and white characters never openly exhibit admiration or love towards black features and culture. They'd rather push us and our differences aside because acknowledging them and their beauty makes people uncomfortable. But those same characters will always 100% be implied to find white women attractive.

And in the Superhero Movie Sphere it's even worse.

ie. It's VERY VERY rare you will find Tony Stark with a Black woman.

The large majority of the women you see with Tony Stark early in the movies are WHITE. The ones he's taking to at galas and playing roulette in front of and kicking out after one night stands - White and blonde. If he sleeps with them - white and blonde.

And that's fine in the general population - a nonblack man who 'loves women' and loves sex just... not being seen with black women at all.

But if Tony Stark went two movies sleeping with only women that aren't white - uh-oh!! That draws attention!!

It's completely okay and not a fetish to be super attracted to white features in isolation, but if you take interest in non-white features without validating white women in the same breath then you're nasty and a fetishist and a racist.

Another example - Batman.

Zoe Kravitz was the first time we've seen Batman openly go after a black woman since maybe Eartha Kitt in 1967 - OVER 50 years apart

In the Christian Bale movies - he never flirts with black women. This classy, smooth Bruce Wayne isn't seen interacting with them. I mean... Why? Does he not like them? Or are the all the black people in Gotham just too poor to be around him to begin with?

????????? That don't add up. But that's how most characters are.

If a nonblack male character is shown in a relationship with a woman - the chances of that woman being cast as a black woman hits the FLOOR.

Their first choice is almost always white.

And the saddest thing is

Spider-Man is the biggest example of black erasure in romance and the effects it causes.

That's why when Zendaya got cast as MJ - it was a problem.

Because before then, during the 70 semi years of Peter Parker's existence - he was never shown on screen being attracted to black women in any capacity.

Betty, Gwen, Felicia, MJ - all white. In the cartoons, white. In the remake, white. Silk is probably one of - if not the - first POC we see Peter with. And they don't date, they've never been shown on screen, and over the past years Cindy has had a better written relationship with Felicia than she ever had with Peter.

For half a century we were conditioned to believe that Peter Parker dated white women with no representation or deviation.

Back in 2016 when TASM series was coming out, if you were a black reader who wanted to see yourself represented in any way or capacity on screen or in Fandom - good luck.

We're use to seeing these very romantically forward guys never flirting or fucking or dating black women. We're conditioned to accept this as normal.

It takes a genuine toll.

That's why when I was younger, I use to feel so insecure. Wondering if my favorite characters or celebrities would even find me slightly attractive. The idea that my favorite character wouldn't find me attractive because they've never been seen with a Black partner or interest ever not even once in passing hurts.

As a teen I just accepted that these characters 'Don't like black people' and can't find them attractive in that capacity. Because I mean, I have no reason to think they do - when most nonblack characters won't even look at a black female character for longer than 5 seconds.

Growing up I just accepted that these characters and the fandom as a whole did not see anything beautiful about me because of my race.

That's why Black readers should be more widespread.

We should be telling people that non-black men finding black women attractive is NORMAL.

I read SO many fics of black characters and go 'okay but they wrote reader as white.'

I have NEVER read a fic of a non-black character and gone 'okay they wrote the reader as Black'

Y'all.... You can write interracial relationships with characters that aren't black.

Interracial Relationships are not a special magic tool you can use to pair black characters up with non-black readers. Interracial Relationships go both ways.

If you're down for writing Hobie x NonBlack!Reader and writing an interracial relationship there - why are y'all not down for Miguel x Black!Reader?

Why are interracial relationships good when the black man experiences attraction outside his race towards nonblack people - but bad/unlikely when the nonblack man experiences attraction outside his race towards black people?

'Hobie loves everyone' Okay, Miguel would too. But I don't see the 'Hobie Loves' people rushing and pushing for inclusion in the Miguel tag. They don't care if fanwriters show Miguel 'loving everyone'.

They don't go -

'Miguel loves latinas, Miguel loves black women' in Miguel's tag.

Even though nonblack men experience attraction towards black people and black women everyday across the world.

Some are even married to us - can you believe it??

In conclusion - More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel x Black!OC.

Give Miguel AfroLatino Babies!!!!

Give Miguel O'Hara a Nigerian Wife so help me God

Anyway - Big up @hrhmimieucliffe and their AMAZING Black OC Giselle, who has a ~thing~ ;) with Miguel (they are v cute!!)

More Miguel x Black!Reader. More Miguel with Black! OCs. I want a Miguel that likes his women like he likes his milkshakes - tall, sweet, thicc as fuck, and FULL OF CHOCOLATE

And once again, that's on WHAT!!!!

#you thought it was over #nah I'm back and I'm black #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel x you #Miguel x oc #miguel o'hara x reader #Miguel O'Hara x OC #miguel o'hara x you #Hobie Brown x reader #Hobie brown x you #marvel fanfic #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie x oc #hobie brown x oc

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - Chapter III

Summary-> Things continue to grow more complicated for you with your charge. In more than one way. But there are some bright spots.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 6.5k

Chapters-> I II

Warnings-> PG: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> Since my favorite demon, @littlefreya, asked so nicely. The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> Dragon_Dweller

With Edmund back at his own home, your father asleep in his chair and the dinner dishes washed, then put away, you rubbed at your face, finally feeling the exhaustion of the day bear down on you. Your muscles were sore and you had a throbbing headache behind your eyes.

But your day wasn't quite over yet.

You filled a glass with water and brought it downstairs, in the off chance your guest woke up in the night, thirsty. The lanterns had been turned down low and the electric light had been turned off, in the cellar room, you thought nothing of it as you entered. Until you noticed the camp bed was empty.

“Oh-” You gasped, eyes wide with surprise, when you felt a warm and strong palm close around your mouth, muffling the startled scream you let out, the glass of water slipping from your fingers and shattering on the hard packed, dirt floor, splashing over your slippers.

“Calm yourself.” A deep, British accent rumbled low in your ear, whiskers tickling your skin. “I'm not going to hurt you. But you are going to answer my questions.” He said, pulling you backwards with him as he moved towards the cellar door, listening for any noise from the house upstairs, before pulling the door closed. “I'm going to remove my hand.”

“Don't make me regret it, love.”

Gulping thickly, stomach twisted in sick knots, you nodded in reply. He slowly removed his hand, in preparation of you crying out for help, but you were too frightened to make a peep. Nodding his head, he moved around you, gingerly holding a hand to his wound.

“Where am I?” He asked, piercing you with his stunning blue eyes. “Come now.” He cooed, when you continued to gawk at him, reaching up with his free hand to gently pinch your chin between his thumb and fingers, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“You're in the village of Saint-Thurney.” You blurted out, biting the inside of your cheek. “Just off the coast of the English Channel.”

“We're still in France?” He asked, his brows drawing together.

“Ye-yes.” You stuttered, blinking at him.

“You don't sound French.” He said, a light of deep suspicion filling his eyes as he regarded you more closely.

“Well, that's because I'm not.” You replied, frowning back at him. “My family and I moved here for a quieter life, before all this war nonsense broke out.” You explained, watching the beads of sweat on his forehead begin to drip down the edge of his nose. “You need to sit down, before you pass out.” You told him, reaching up to close your hand around the wrist of the hand he still held your chin with.

“I'm fine.” He dismissed you, despite becoming a bit pale.

“No, you're not.” You snapped at him, concerned. “You've been shot and washed ashore, with a fever.” You scolded him, pulling his hand away from your face and attempted to tug him over to the bed, but couldn't budge his large frame.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. “I could be the enemy, a collaborator, or at the least a sympathizer. For all you know, that's why I was shot.”

You looked him over, studying him. “You could be.” You nodded, though your gut still felt he wasn't. “But what I do know is you're injured and sick. I can't let you go untended for it.”

“You're a strange woman.” He chuckled, smirking at you.

“And you're a strange man that washed up on my beach.” You countered, cocking a brow at him.

“I'm Gus.” He offered his name, feeling a small measure of trust in you.

“It's been eventful, Gus.” You replied, then offered your own name to him. “Please, you're pale and sweating quite profusely. I don't want you to pass out.” You begged him, motioning to the bed.

Gus lifted an amused eyebrow at you for a second, before humoring you and sitting down in the chair. “How far is your little town from Dieppe?” He asked, grimacing at the discomfort.

“I'm not all that sure. All I know is we're north of it.” You replied, shaking your head. “Um, give me a moment.” You said, turning to go back upstairs, but Gus's hand shot out to grab your wrist, halting you. “I'm just going upstairs to grab one of the maps my father has in the sitting room. He's been tracking some of the German's movements.”

“Has he now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “My father was a soldier in the Great War, for the British Empire. It cost him dearly, so I would kindly ask you to wipe that assumption off your face.” You hissed at him, not liking the glint in Gus's orbs.

“My apologies, my lady.” He replied, tipping his head forward. “I meant no offense.” He tried to assure you, letting go of your wrist.

Silently going out, you crept up the stairs, wincing as the ancient wood steps creaked beneath your tiptoes. The flames in the fireplace were just high enough to keep the sitting room warm, while only casting a strong enough glow you could just see the outline of everything to navigate by. Your father sat slumped in his armchair, stocking feet propped up on an ottoman and his blanket tucked around his softly pudgy middle.

You couldn't stop the sweet smile that pulled on your lips as you stopped a short distance from him, listening to his rough snores, the flickering flames catching on the glass of his glasses. Reaching out, you slowly and gently removed them from his face, folding and tucking them into the front pocket of his pajamas; where he could find them in the morning. Turning your attention back to your task, you made your way over to the roll top desk your father kept his maps in, rifling through them for one that wasn't marked up with the battle fronts and supply lines. You knew your father would inquire as to where it was, if you took one of those.

Finding a new map, rolled up and held closed with an elastic band, you slowly pulled it out of the stack, shooting a look over your shoulder as your father snorted in his sleep suddenly, but didn't stir. Letting out a sigh and closing the desk, you scurried out of the sitting room, pausing momentarily to grab your broom and dustpan to sweep up the shards of the glass you had dropped.

“Here.” You held out the rolled up map to Gus, returning to the cellar and finding him still sitting where you left him.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking it.

Nodding back, you set the dust pan down on the floor and set about sweeping up your mess, while Gus removed the elastic band and spread the map out on the table, turning up the oil lamp that was beside it. Squinting at the small print names of towns, villages and cities along the coast, in search of the seaport of Dieppe in the Normandy region of Northern France. Tapping his index finger against it, he traced his other pointer finger up until he found Saint-Thurney, in the region of Hauts-de-France, letting out a growling hum as he did.

“Did you find it?” You asked, bent as you corralled the broken glass pieces into the metal dust pan.

“Aye, I did.” Gus replied, pushing his jaw forward, lips pursed in agitation. “We're eighty-four kilometers north of it.”

“Is that where you were injured?” You asked, standing back up, clapping your hands together to dust them off. “Off the coast of Dieppe?”

Gus's eyes shot up to you, guarded and suspicious.

“I found you washed ashore. So, unless you were shot, then driven eighty some kilometers from Dieppe and dumped on our beach, which is awfully out of the way to get rid of someone. Wartime or no. You had to either be near the Channel when it happened or already in the Channel.”

The suspicion in his eyes slowly melted into a look of impressed understanding. “You're very smart and forward, for a young lady.” He chuckled, smirking at you, but his gaze was still guarded as he twisted the end of his mustache.

“I was primarily raised by my father and brother, mostly my brother. So, my lady-like manners aren't as refined as they should be.” You confessed, though there was no apology in your voice or expression. “And I'm not quite a young lady, either.”

“I surely doubt you're not an old maid.” Gus remarked, cocking a brow as his eyes moved over you. “You can't be more than-” He pressed his lips together. “Twenty-six.”

“Flattery.” You giggled, a warmth blooming in your cheeks. “And you are trying to change the subject.”

Gus's smirk turned smug and devilish. “Quite.” He nodded, his brow twitching slightly. “I was injured in Dieppe. The circumstances are--” He paused, rubbing sweaty temples for a moment. “Fuzzy.”

“Are you in pain?” You asked, frowning at him, concerned by the pale flush to his face and the sweat still dripping down his face.

“I am.”

You grabbed the cloth from where it laid on the camp bed and used it to gently dab at his forehead and the sides of his neck. “You should lay back down, Gus.” You cooed at him, brushing a damp curl off his forehead. “I can get one of the morphine tablets Dr. Tremblay left for you.” You said, motioning to the tawny-colored bottle on the table.

Sitting quietly for a long time, Gus finally nodded and moved over to the bed, groaning and hissing as the movement pulled on his wound and stitches. You half covered him, before heading back upstairs for a fresh glass of water.

“Here.” You said quietly, handing over the water and took one of the round, white tablets out of the medicine bottle.

“Thank you.” He nodded at you, popping it in his mouth and chugging down most of the water.

“Are you hungry at all?” You inquired, biting your lip. “I have some food left over from dinner.” You told him, turning your upper body towards the door. “It's not much, but it's something on your stomach.”

“No, thanks.” Gus answered, letting his eyes fall shut. “I don't have an appetite just now.”

“All right.” You nodded, biting your lip. “I'll let you rest then. I'll come and see you in the morning.” You assured him, moving towards the door.

“Thank you.” Gus called out to you. “For what you're doing.” He elaborated, as you paused. “Most people during these times would have just left me to die or alerted the authorities. Let alone take me into their home, called a doctor and tended to me.”

You smiled, chuckling softly, before quipping. “Well, I believe we've established I'm no ordinary woman.”

“True enough.” He snorted back, feeling the drowsiness of the morphine start to seep into his body.

“Good night.” You bid him.

“Night.” Gus mumbled back, dozing off.

Upon waking the next morning, you laid in bed for a long while, listening to the distant rush of waves crashing on the shore and excited calls of birds. The day before felt surreal and part of you wondered if the events had actually happened. Had you truly found a wounded man washed up on your favorite beach, during wartime? Did you and your brother honestly sneak him into your home, so you could try and save him?

“Did we?” You asked the streaks of sunlight coming through the window beside your bed.

There was a knock on your door, breaking you free of your thoughts.

“Yes?” You called out, rubbing at your face and sitting up.

“Are you decent?” Edmund's voice called back.

Sighing, reality crashing back around you. “One moment!” You scurried out of bed and grabbed your robe off the back of the chair, securing it on, before you opened the door for your brother. “Good morning.” You greeted him.

“He is awake.” He replied under his breath.

“Oh yes, he is awake.” You nodded, biting your lip, remembering your interaction with Gus the night before. “He woke up a couple of hours after dinner.” You explained to Edmund.

“Why didn't you come and get me!” He hissed, glancing over his shoulder, towards the stairs, worried your father would hear.

“I—it honestly hadn't occurred to me at the moment, Edmund.” You told him, biting your lip.

“Didn't occur to you! He could have harmed you and Pops!” He scolded you, eye twitching with pent up anger. “I could have come over this morning to your dead-”

“Edmund, calm yourself.” You cut him off, watching the vein in his temple start to bulge. “He didn't harm me. He didn't even leave the cellar. What he did was startle me, when I found him out of the cot. Beyond that, he was quite courteous. Secretive and strange, but nothing but a gentleman.” You assured your brother. “I'm guessing you went down to look at him?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I did. Found him sitting up, staring at a map.”

“Oh, the stubbornness of men!” You huffed, shoving Edmund away from your door and closing it, rushing to get dressed. “I'll get breakfast going, if you want any. I'm sure Willa hasn't bothered, since it's not noon yet and she's not graced the living.” You said, coming back out in a whirlwind, Edmund still standing in the hallway.

“Just wait for me in the kitchen.”

“I'm not leaving you alone with that man.” Edmund huffed at you, close on your heels as you went downstairs.

“Good morning, Papa!” You sang out, the sound of the radio reaching you from the sitting room, your father listening intently to it.

“Morning, Peanut!” He replied, not looking up at you.

Smiling, you turned and went downstairs, into the cellar. “Good morning, Gus.” You smirked at his hunched back, a hint of sarcasm in your eyes.

“Morning.” Gus replied, leaning back in his chair to regard you. “Has my nurse come to pester me?” He asked, chuckling, amused at the glint of your glare.

“I have.” You nodded, reaching out and brushing the stray curl aside to rest your hand on his forehead, feeling the heat in his skin. “You're not as warm as you were last night.” You commented, letting your hand drop. “So, your fever is dropping. But I still need to give you the shot Dr. Tremblay ordered yesterday.”

“Right.” Gus nodded, curling his fingers around the hem of his shirt, to pull it off.

“Mm-mm.” You hummed at him, shaking your head.

“What?” He frowned at you.

“Thigh.” You smirked at him, grabbing the antibiotic vial and syringe that Tremblay left behind for you.

“Explains why I don't have any trousers on.” Gus snorted, his blue eyes catching Edmund's, which were ablaze with protective suspicion. “Your bodyguard.” He asked, a sharp edge of wit in his voice.

“Brothers are like that.” You smiled, moving in front of Gus.

“So, not your husband then.” He inquired, meeting your eye.

“Ew.” You giggled, shaking your head, tugging up one side of his boxers. “No offense, Edmund.” You added, biting your lip as you gently pinched the thick muscle at the top of his thigh.

“None taken, Peanut.” Edmund replied, scowling at Gus.

“Why don't you go upstairs, Captain?” You suggested to Edmund, carefully injecting the needle. “We're all right down here.” You said, biting your lip in concentration as you pushed the plunger down.

Edmund lingered for a minute, before turning on his boot heels and storming back upstairs, making a ruckus as he did.

“I'm sorry about him.” You said to Gus, removing the needle and setting it aside. “It's just that he's very protective.”

“And I'm just some strange man, that washed ashore on your beach, that's now holed up in your basement.” Gus chuckled, nodding his head in understanding, but frowned at you. “You called him, Captain. But he's not in the military, is he?”

You drew a deep breath, held it for a second with a thoughtful look on your face, before sighing. “No, Edmund isn't. He tried to join the military when the war broke out, but they turned him away.” You explained to him, your heart sore for your brother.

Edmund was loyal, steadfast and capable. He was quite patriotic as well, for the home you had come from and the home you had made in France. Even when he couldn't serve for them on the front lines, or even behind the lines. You wished with all your heart Edmund could march in those neat lines, in a snappy uniform, to officially hold the rank of Captain. Knowing the void it filled in him. But due to an unfortunate medical condition, no branch of the military would have him, in even a desk job.

“Why wouldn't they take him?” Gus asked, frowning with confusion. “He looks more than able.” He commented, having seen Edmund's lean and muscular body.

“Oh yes, bodily he is. Mentally as well.” You agreed, fussing with the fabric of your skirt. “But it's his eyes that are the issue.” You licked your lips and looked up at Gus. “He has an eye condition, Retinitis Pigmentosa. It causes you to lose your vision over time. It starts with your night vision, then your peripheral vision, before you go blind completely.”

“Currently, Eddie has no night vision to speak of and his side vision is becoming blurry. So, he's kept his trade as a carpenter.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Gus said, his eyes soft on you. “Can I ask why you call him Captain?”

You giggled quietly, a fond memory coming to mind. “Our father was a Major, in the Great War, and had a good many metals for it.” You explained to him, a distant look in your eye. “Among other things.” You mumbled, quietly. “Edmund loved his memorabilia as a child and would wear them all the time, showing them off to anybody and everybody that would look and listen to how our father got them.” You laughed, smiling. “Our father had given Edmund one of his patches, the one that had once identified him as a Captain.” You paused, biting your lip and furrowing your brow.

“Mother left when I was five and Edmund was fifteen. I don't remember much of that day, other than my father being in one of his fits and Edmund sending me next door for a while. When he came back to get me, he told me it was just going to be us now. But not to worry, he was the Captain of the house and he'd make sure everything would be all right.”

“You took to calling him Captain, as a nickname.” Gus grinned, understanding and touched.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, somber. “We refer to our father as Major, from time to time as well.”

“Well, that'll make things awkward, while I'm your guest.” Gus laughed, smirking at you.

“Why's that?” You frowned at him.

Gus sighed, his face turning to an expression of seriousness. “I'm a Major in the British Army.” He confessed to you, flexing his fingers.

“So, you are on our side.” You replied, the corners of your lips twitching with relief to know you were right about him.

“What side would that be?” He asked, his eyes squinting slightly.

“Well, we're not holding you hostage, Major. We're hiding you from the German patrol in our village, that has already almost caught us with you once, to start with.” You told him, bluntly. “While tending to your wound.” You said, pointing to the hole in his shirt. “So, we're on your side. Which is just unfortunately occupied.”

“There's a German patrol post here?” Gus asked, tensing.

“Yes. An annoying one at that.”

“Annoying how?”

“It was a very small patrol, when they first gained control of France. Perhaps fifteen of them.” You explained, shrugging your shoulders. “But three months ago, half of the main German Patrol moved from Rue to here. You can fit Saint-Thurney in part of Rue. We don't know why they've moved. It's been kept hushed and with that hush an increase in their patrols around town. It was a miracle I found you on the beach before they did.”

“It would seem so.” Gus nodded, troubled.

“Do you recall anything of your ordeal?” You asked, frowning at him. “How you got injured? Or into the water?”

Gus carded a hand through his nest of curls, shaking his head. “The last thing I recall was being with my men in Dieppe. Everything after that is still fuzzy and dark.”

“Perhaps you were ambushed?” You bit your lip, knowing you were reaching.

“It's possible.” He sighed, before shrugging his shoulders. “I'm sure it'll come back to me.”

“I'm sure it will.” You answered, offering him a soft smile. “Until then, I should head back upstairs and start breakfast.” You sighed, moving towards the door. “Would you like some coffee or tea?” You offered, politely.

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” Gus replied, with a kind tilt of his head.

“Coming right down.” You smirked, scurrying back upstairs.

“Are you all right?” Edmund asked as you entered the kitchen.

“I'm fine, Eddie.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “You don't have anything to worry about with him. He's ever the gentleman you are.” You told him, opening the pantry door and removing your apron off the hook, tying it around you. “Did you go down to the store and get the supplies, like I asked last night?”

“Yes.” Edmund grunted, fetching the small crate from by the door. “Remi added a bit more tea leaves. Said, he knows how much you love your cuppas.” He informed you, setting the crate on the kitchen counter.

“What a sweetheart.” You giggled, plucking the brown paper bag of loose tea leaves out of the supplies and dropped it beside the stove, before digging through for the coffee grounds. “We need--” You tilted your head back, cocking a brow at your father for a second, before looking at Edmund. “To get our guest, some clothing.”

“Clothes.” Edmund snapped at you, brows creasing so deeply, they almost touched.

“Well, his shirt has a hole in it.” You scolded your brother, eyes rolling. “And you can tell by looking at them, that they're not clothing anyone from around here would wear.”

“Who's going to see him?” He argued further.

“What if the Patrol does one of their searches?” You countered, giving him a smug look.

“That's what the hidden door and the damn shelves are for, Peanut!” He huffed at you. “To hide him, so if the Patrol comes searching the houses, they won't find him.”

“Still, it's rude, Edmund.” You huffed, filling your tea pot and putting it on the stove to boil. “He can't stay down there in filthy clothing.”

Edmund rubbed his face. “Fine.” He sighed, giving in. “I'll find him something to wear. If it'll make you so happy.”

“It will.” You answered, smirking at him. “It's only the polite thing to do, and you know it.”

“Of course, my dear sister.” He huffed, playfully rolling his eyes at you, before kissing your cheek. “I'll be back for breakfast. I made a call to Duprée for some lumber, to start building our guest's paradise downstairs.”

“All right, it should be done by then.” You nodded, patting him gently on the chest.

Gus sipped at the coffee you had kindly brewed for him. You had even brought him a few books from the bookcases in the sitting room, so he had something to occupy his time, other than staring at the map. He looked at the covers of Gulliver's Travels, the Great Gatsby, the Pickwick Papers and Of Mice and Men, before picking up the latter. Thumbing it open to the first page, he rested back in his seat, finding it more comfortable than the camp bed to recline in.

He hadn't gotten far into the chapter, before hearing footsteps coming back down the basement stairs and cast a glance through the half open cellar door, catching sight of Edmund coming down, with several boards on his shoulder. Gus folded the corner of his page and set the book aside, pushing himself up with a muffled groan.

“Do you want some help with that?” He asked, stopping short of the stairs.

“Nope.” Edmund replied, reaching the bottom. “I'm more than positive, if you look at these boards sideways, my sister will come down here and beat the both of us.” He said, his voice humorless, but Gus laughed anyway.

“I'm sure you're right.” He smirked, glancing up the stairs, hearing the bumps and clinks coming from the kitchen. “She's a gentle, but firm, nurse.”

“That she is.” Your brother agreed, setting the boards down to one side of the room and shrugging his shoulders. “My father and I made sure she had her manners, but she never let anyone boss or bully her around.” He said, glancing at Gus for a moment.

“That's good.” Gus replied, catching Edmund's eye. “People can be quite harsh in this world. Especially to young ladies.”

Edmund nodded, then went back upstairs for the rest of the wood and his tools. He also brought down a bag. “My sister insisted on me bringing you these.” He said, setting the bag beside Gus, who was seated back in his chair, having returned to his book and cooling cup of coffee.

Frowning and resting the book on his knee, Gus reached into the bag, grabbing the first thing inside. He pulled out a teal colored cable knit jumper. “Oh.” He cooed, brows going up as he nodded.

“That's very kind. Thank you.”

“Mmhm.” Edmund grunted, leaving him to change and get back to his work.

Gus stood, closing the cellar door the rest of the way, and shed his tattered shirt, replacing it for the jumper, the wool rough on his skin. He rummaged through the bag, finding fresh underwear, pants, socks and shoes. Even a pair of pajamas! He stripped and put on the clean clothes and felt a sight better for it. His old shirt and boxers still smelled of the sea and made his skin itch.

A knock sounded on the door, as he was pulling on the socks and boots.

“Come!”

“Oh!” You started, but smiled at him. “I see my brother managed to do what I asked of him.” You said, a plate of food balanced in one hand.

“He did.” Gus nodded, smirking up at you. “Thank you. It was kind of you to think of it.”

“Of course.” You replied shyly, eyes darting away for a second. “I brought you breakfast.” You quickly recovered, holding the plate out to him, then removed utensils from the pocket of your apron. “Do you need a refill on your coffee?”

“It could use a warming up.” He picked his cup up and turned it over to your awaiting hand.

“Back in a snap.” You chirped. “Are you ready for your breakfast, Edmund?” You asked, on the way to the kitchen, pausing to watch him pull a pencil from behind his ear and strike a mark on a board he was measuring, on two saw-horses.

“Just bring me down a plate.” Edmund answered, too distracted to look up at you as he adjusted his measuring tape. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“All right.” You nodded, knowing that set in his shoulders.

Going back to the kitchen, you pour Gus's cold coffee down the sink, pull a cup down for Edmund, then turn towards the percolator that rested on the counter. Removing the lid, you pulled out the metal coffee basket and carried it out to the small garden you had, just like Edmund and Willa, where you tapped the damp, used coffee grounds into your compost bin.

The percolator set up for a fresh pot of coffee, you grabbed one of the plates sitting on the kitchen table to portion out the eggs, toast and sausage on it. You missed having a fruit with your breakfast, but with supplies what they were and being rationed, fresh produce were spares. But, the marmalades you were able to get periodically helped dull the longing.

For a little while, at least.

“Papa, do you want marmalade or butter on your toast?” You called out, plucking his piece of blackened toast out of the toaster oven, just how he liked it.

It was the same with his meat as well. Mael would have his steak, pork chops and every other type of meat blacker than shoe polish. You hadn't understood why, when you began cooking for your family. But Edmund had explained it to you one night, after your father complained three times his lamp chop wasn't done enough, though you were beginning to worry there would be nothing left of it, by the time you did get it where he liked it. Apparently, growing up his mother could never properly cook meat, either under-cooking it or burning it to a crisp.

“Do we have any marmalade left?” He called back.

“We do!” You replied, opening the refrigerator, to pull out the two small, glass jars of Rose's marmalade. “We have a tiny bit of the Strawberry left and Remi sent over some Ginger this morning.” You informed him, reading the label.

“I'll have Ginger then, Peanut.”

Nodding, you put the Strawberry back and muscled open the Ginger, spreading it over his toast and getting some on your fingers as you worked it to the edges. Giving a couple of your fingers a cheeky lick, humming at the sweet, but warm and spicy stickiness on them, you brought your father's food over to him, kissing the top of his balding head.

“Any movement on the Eastern Front, Major?” You inquired, cocking your head at the map he had spread out on a folding table he set up in front of his chair.

He had been listening to the radio about current movements, or mostly lack thereof, on the bloody fighting between the Axis powers and Soviet Union. His map was marked with different colored pencils and he had some sort of symbol system set up for himself to follow, that you hadn't fully figured out. What you did know was the Red and Black lines were the Russians and their Allies. Blue and Green were the Axis. The Skulls, you learned very early on, were the dead zones, where neither side gained or lost any ground, no matter what they did. Crosses were some of the heaviest casualties, and Arrows were meant to show any movement either side managed to make. But there were several others you and Edmund just couldn't make heads or tails out of.

Neither of you wished to ask either, in fear it might cause him to go into a tirade. So, simple questions were always the best.

“None, Peanut.” Mael replied, as he leaned forward with a red pencil and added a new Cross somewhere on the Northern edge of the Front, making your stomach sink.

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat. “I'm glad to hear it.” You rasped, squeezing his shoulder, before numbly returning to the kitchen, putting your plate back into the cabinet, appetite ruined.

“Dinner was delicious.” Gus commented, wiping up the remnants of the stew you had simmered throughout the day with his last bite of bread, popping it into his mouth with a complimentary moan.

“I'm glad you think so.” You smiled, holding your hand out for his bowl. “Um...” You floundered for a moment, pivoting on your hips as you glanced around. “I put clean towels in the bathroom upstairs, if you'd like to go up and take a shower. Edmund is back home with his wife. My father is asleep and it's almost curfew for the village.”

“I would greatly appreciate some time under the hot spray of a showerhead.” He replied, looking up at you, his eyes soft.

“It's all yours then.” You nodded, moving towards the door. “When you're ready for it.”

“I'll be up presently.” He cooed, standing gingerly, grabbing the pajamas that you and Edmund had supplied him.

Tossing the garments over his shoulder, Gus headed upstairs, mindful not to make boards creak as little as possible. Popping his head out the basement door, he saw your father dozing in his armchair, chin resting on his chest with his glasses balanced perilously on the tip of his nose. He heard a clink and moved forward a step, discovering you at the sink, washing his bowl and spoon.

“Is that a mouse, I hear?” You teased, glancing at him with a smirk.

“More the size of a rat.” Gus jested back, standing beside the kitchen table.

You giggled aloud for a second, before you covered it and looked over at your father. “I'll show you upstairs to the bathroom.” You said, drying your hands and motioned to the stairs. “How's your wound feeling?” You asked, following him up, glancing at the spot of his back where you knew his stitches were.

“Sore.” He sighed, pausing at the top to look at you. “That doctor makes a tight stitch.” He quipped, turning to follow you down the hallway.

“Better a tight stitch than a gaping wound.” You joked back, pushing open one of the doors and stepping aside for him.

“True enough, my darling.” Gus smirked, meeting your eye for a long moment, seeing the shy, sheepishness creep into your eyes and your bottom lip get caught between your teeth.”Thank you for the use of your restroom.”

“Of course.” You nodded, glancing away from him, then scurried back downstairs.

You pulled a clean fitted sheet and pillowcase out of a cabinet, the aroma of the laundry soap on the fabric greeting your nose as you hugged them to your chest. Edmund had managed to complete a more suitable and sturdy bed for Gus on his day of work, bringing over the mattress from his and Willa's guest room to top it. So, while Gus allowed himself the comforting luxury of washing up and getting ready for bed, you went down and dressed it for him. Sure the feeling of clean clothes on clean skin would help him get an extra good night's sleep.

“There, all ready for him.” You grinned, fluffing his pillowcase, then went back up to finish your other chores, before it was time for you to go off to bed. “Shoot.” You snapped, finding your father's chair empty and darted upstairs, to find him.

You reached the top of the stairs as your father came out of his room and Gus was exiting the bathroom in the gray striped pajamas, a towel draped around his neck. Your father caught sight of you first, seeing the wild and startled look in your eyes, his grayed brows wrinkling with confusion for a half-second, until he finally noticed Gus, who stood frozen in the bathroom doorway.

“Who in God's name is this man!” Mael snapped, his coffee-colored eyes hardening with alert outrage.

“He's-!” You floundered, head whipping between the two men. “He's—um..”

“I work for your son.” Gus answered calmly, his eyes giving you a quick look of knowing, instilling you with a burst of encouragement.

“Yes, Papa.” You nodded at Gus, your head slowly turning to your father, still bobbing. “He's helping Edmund build the shelves downstairs and with the repairs around the house.” You elaborated to him, smirking. “He's from the next village over though, and the curfew was set before he could head back home. So, Eddie and I suggested he stay here. He was just showering before heading off to bed.”

Mael squinted at Gus, his jaw moving gently side to side as he chewed on his lip.

“Papa, you should be off to bed.” You cooed at him, softly, resting your hand on his arm. “It's late.” You hoped to guide him back downstairs to his chair and get Gus out of his sight, at least until you talked to Edmund in the morning. “How do hotcakes sound for breakfast tomorrow?” You hummed, glancing back at Gus, who winked at you.

“Good, I suppose, Peanut.” Your father answered, only semi-distracted away from the stranger he found in his home.

“All right.” You smiled, tucking his blanket around him and lifting his legs to slide the ottoman under his feet. “I'll have some toasty and buttery, hot cakes for you, in the morning.” You whispered, kissing his forehead and watching him fall asleep, then rushed back upstairs. “I am so sorry, Gus! I didn't expect him to get up. He usually calls for me, if he wants something from his room.” You apologized, wringing your hands.

“No, no!” Gus shook his head, reaching out and grasping your hands. “This is your home and you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry, I've thrown you and your family into such disarray.”

“It's all right.” You gulped, feeling the heavy warmth of his rough hands against your skin. “These are chaotic times, we're in.” You told him, heart fluttering. “We should get to bed, by the way. Tomorrow comes early.”

“Indeed it does.” He agreed, his skin tingling. “Especially, for the help.” He joked, lightly.

You chuckled back, dropping your eyes to the hallway runner. “I'll have to let Edmund in on that bit of information, when he comes over and before our father gets a hold of him.” You said, imagining how that conversation was going to go.

“Well, I'll wish you a good night.” Gus said, dropping his hands from yours, but inclined his head forward. “Peanut.” He added, with a playful wink, then excused himself.

Your cheeks blazed as you stood in the hallway, the heat of Gus's touch still lingering on your skin and the ring of him calling you by your nickname in your ears. It took a long moment for you to recover enough to resume your tasks and go to bed.

#henry cavill #viking-raider fics #Salt in Our Wounds #viking raider fics #Salt in Our Wounds *fic* #Fluff #Language #Protective brother #Gus x Reader #Gus x You #Gus/You #Gus/Reader #Gus & You #Gus & Reader #gus march phillips #Gus march phillips x Reader #Gus march Phillips x you #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare

[imajinxnation]

That's Bull

Constantine (2005) x Reader

SUMMARY // Reader gets kidnapped by a demon and Constantine comes to save her. Reader can't help but mock the demon's stupidity and waits for her boyfriend to come get her.

Thought of this while I was at work!

Hope this is at least decent, cause it's been awhile lmao

GIF FOUND ON PINTEREST

TW // Kidnapping, Humor, Sarcasm, Insinuated Sexy Times, Cussing, FEMALE READER..

I groan as I wake, a harsh pounding in my head, as if someone was repeatedly taking the back of my head and smashing it against a metal wall. I slowly open my eyes, wincing, but see nothing except black, my breathing feeling a little restricted and stuffy. I feel the bag over my head against my face and begin to put together the pieces of what had happened. I sigh and shake my head, not even surprised.

I hear heavy footsteps echoing closer, a metal door opens and, soon enough, the footsteps are stopped right in front of me and the bag over my head is ripped off. I glare at my kidnapper; a heavyset woman with blue dyed hair, an obvious red tint in her pupils, telling everyone that she is a demon.

"You should lighten your footsteps, girl, I could hear them from a mile away," I scoff at her.

The demon looks at me, not showing too much emotion, but I could tell my words were already getting to her. Her jaw clenched and an offended look came and went in her eyes. I smirk a little; this demon will be easy to get through.

The demon takes a deep breath to calm herself before speaking, "I need information, on your little boyfriend, Constantine," she spat out his name like poison in her mouth.

I throw my head back and laugh.

"Honey, you realise that he gives out information pretty freely, right? He couldn't give two fucks about who knows what about him! I mean.. what do you even want to know anyways?"

The demon snarls at my nonchalant nature and speaks up again, angrier this time.

"Where does he keep the dagger of destiny? I know he fucking kept it!"

I snort, "No he didn't, you dumbass! Who the fuck told you that bullshit lie? No, wait, let me guess! Gabriel?"

The demon gives an awkward, frustrated look, "No.." She says, unconvincingly.

There was silence for a few moments before I broke out into laughter, finding the whole situation hilarious.

"You- you mean to tell me," I say between giggles, "that Gabriel told you personally that Constantine has the dagger of destiny, and then told you to kidnap me to tell you where he hides it? You are one gullible demon!"

"Watch it, you pathetic worm," the demon stomps like a child getting sent to the corner.

"Okay, alright. Come closer and I'll whisper it to you, I promise!" I give my best innocent face and silently beckon the demon to lean closer.

She does, easy to fool.

"You're going to be back in hell in a minute.." I whisper, the demon leans her head back from me, looking me in the eyes as I smirk.

She let's out a frustrated yell and walks past me, presumably to grab a weapon to torture me with. I see a shadow at the foot of the door in front of me before trying to see what the demon was doing behind me, catching a glimpse of her back. My head snaps back towards the door when I see a little bit of light enter the room. I see my boyfriend's head poke through before slipping his whole body in the room, making as little noise as possible as to not draw attention.

"You alright?" He mouths to me.

I nod and tilt my head towards the demon behind me, back still turned, muttering to herself about which tool she should use to torture me with.

"Give her hell.." I mouth with a smirk and a wink.

John smirks back and raises his demon gun, "Hey ugly!"

The demon swings around at the voice and goes to attack, but John shoots before she could move, and with one shot of that demon gun, she turns to dust.

"Thank you, Baby, you wanna untie me now?" I ask.

Constantine laughs and shakes his head in disbelief before setting the gun down to untie my body from the chair.

"When will these demon fucks learn not to mess with you?" He growls in my ear, untying my wrists from behind my back.

"You know demons, Babe, they may be evil little shits.. but they have a brain the size of a peanut," I laugh and rub my wrists from the rope burn.

I hop up from the uncomfortable metal chair and stretch, my shirt riding up a bit, showing a sliver of my stomach.

"What did they want this time anyways?" Constantine rolled his eyes and lit a cig.

"Gabriel told it some bull about you keeping the dagger of destiny," I scoffed at the mention of Gabriel.

"That bitch.. When will she stop trying to get revenge on me, it's not my fault God hates her now!" He let out an exasterbated sigh and takes a puff of his cig.

"Well.. I'm not saying I like getting kidnapped all the time.. But I always like what happens after you find me," I say suggestively.

Constantine stares at me for a second before giving a look of disbelief and then a smirk. He takes one last puff of his cig and then stomps it out on the concrete ground of the underground base I was kept in. He moves in closer to me, wrapping his arm around my middle and pulling me into his body roughly, face extremely close to mine.

"And this time will be no different," he smashes his lips to mine, desperately.

#x reader #john constantine #constantine 2005 #john constantine x reader #constantine imagine #constantine x reader #keanu my beloved #keanu reeves #keanu reeves characters #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john x reader #constantine 2005 x reader #constantine 2005 imagine

[starsfic]

Prompt (if taking them] Lady Iron Fan decides to show that she reciprocated Demon Bull King's interest by courtnapping him. The Brotherhood (especially Azure Luon) thinks its a normal kidnapping/act of war.

"You know, my brothers will think this is an act of war."

"Oh, really?" The beautiful woman hummed, setting down the jug and passing over the goblet of wine. DBK was almost charmed, except for the fact that he was still tied to his chair and couldn't pick it up.

No, actually, he was charmed. He had always imagined that he would be the one doing this, excluding the tying to a chair. That was just rude.

"Do you think this is an act of war?" Princess Iron Fan said, drawing his attention back. It wasn't hard, considering the fact that she was a gorgeous woman, even more beautiful when she was committing acts of violence.

"I mean, you do have the wrong atmosphere for such a thing." The room was set up with red and lavender furniture and soft candles. A delicious feast had been laid out, and the pink dress she wore was long and flowing, not meant for battle. "But you could be trying to lower my guard with that eyesore of a dress."

Her smile disappeared. "What's wrong with my dress."

Oh no. "I mean, nothing's wrong! I just think you would look good in purple- no, no. That would be wrong. That would dull your eyes." DBK leaned his face up, away from her furrowed brows and the droop of her lips, to think. "My friend, the Six-Eared Macaque, once gave this long lecture about costume design. The color of the fabric is important when accenting features...uh..." To be fair, DBK had kinda tuned out in the middle and most of that lecture had been aimed at Peng, who had ruined a very nice bolt of fabric Wukong had gotten Macaque as a gift. "Your eyes are a wonderful shade of amber and you have gorgeous dark curls..."

"Really?" The anger had faded from her voice now. "What do you think of them?"

"I mean, gold would accent your everything very nicely since it would match your eyes." DBK tried to think of what color would match her best, but now he was thinking of her just in gold jewelry, which was a very nice thought but very distracting. "But your hair is enough of a draw of its own. It would just need a statement piece. Anything else would drown out your beauty in gaudiness- oh! Red! That is what you would look best in-"

A soft laugh broke through his thoughts. DBK looked down to see the princess cover her mouth, but not enough to hide a beautiful smile. When her giggles came to an end, she looked up. "You are very charming, your Majesty. Are you like this to every girl you meet?"

"No. I mean, I've only ever been like that with Wukong, and he was less charmed."

Iron Fan shrugged. "I can't blame you for trying. He's very pretty."

"So are you."

She leaned against the table and smiled at him. "So are you. By the way, your brothers are trying to break down the door."

DBK blinked. Oh yeah. "Should I go talk to them so we can have dinner in peace?"

"No," Iron Fan's magic hummed, and then she had her distinct fan in hand. "It will give me a chance to change. I have a very lovely red dress in my trunk."

He couldn't wait.

#my writing #Ironbull #Demon Bull King #Princess Iron Fan #Red Son picks up his father's talent of flirting via rambling about random topics #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #prompt fill #prompt fic

[tenko-thinks]

*pops into existence* i know you do oc x canon but ima make it more accessible grehehe!

(Annoying tsundere F reader x uppermoons “specifically a ver pissy gyutaro”)

•u• if you do this for meow… i will leave you a green apple 🍏

Fret not I also do x readers w specific traits he ho and omg... green aple...

Upper Moons with an Annoying "Tsundere" fem!Reader

Cws : Gyutaro sucks but like that's it, other than that, none I think

Ft : Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza , Gyutaro

♡ --- ♡

Kokushibo

Now Koku is from the sengoku era. And is wholly unused to a woman like you.

But.. Not in a bad way, per sey.

He finds your outbursts somewhat amusing in a futile animal attempting to escape a predator kind of way.

He wants to break you in. Turn you into an ideal wife for him. Perhaps with a small amount of fire in you if possible.

The demon can't deny the charm of you getting flustered and swatting at his clothing or squawking when another person calls out your affections.

It's part of what draws him to you, with your uniqueness. If only you were a little quieter..

It's a very amusing sight. Upper moon one with a firecracker of a woman banging on his chest. And he allows it.

Douma

Douma, unlike Kokushibo is used to all sorts of ladies. And your unwillingness to behave has him intrigued.

Of course he could just kill and eat you. But where's the fun in that?

He wants to know what makes you tick! It's all a game to upper two. For his own amusement.

Goes out of his way to trigger outbursts from you. Whether it be by breaking your personal space or whispering something into your ear of a not so clean variety.

You're annoying? Babygirl so is he. Match made in hell.

He may keep you for his entertainment, loving to egg you on.

It makes his day to day far less boring, after all.

Akaza

"Lord give me the strength to keep my vow."

Akaza likes to keep a calm facade, but he is quick to agitate. So how you bagged him? Beyond anyone.

Every day you test his internal moral compass of not even laying a finger on a woman because God does he want to throttle you.

Never has he wanted to actually harm or kill you but ohh the urge to smack you upside the head is there. His self restraint is otherworldly.

The two of you get into verbal arguments a lot about affection neither of your dumbasses can even hold hands without a "You touched me" "NUH UH" moment.

In the end, akaza does care for you. Hence staying with you but please. For his sake of not popping all of his blood vessels at once. Chill.

Gyutaro

Godspeed girl.

Gyutaro deals with his sister every waking moment of his life. So he thinks he's equipped to handle you just as well.

Haha. Wishful thinking on his part.

When you have your outbursts of yelling at him despite his coddling no longer is he playing the game of pacifying you.

He does love you in his own very, Gyutaro way. And has done his best to show it in a non fucked up demonic way.

You start yelling at him again? Fine by him. He's going to let you starve for all he cares. For a day or two. He won't let you die. But like hell he lets you leave when there are so many other more attractive men in yoshiwara.

His insecurities will get the better of him eventually and he'll snap back. Using all of yours against you until you're on the ground in front of him sobbing.

Ignore him all you want, he and Ume are going to be the only thing you know. Because you dug your own damn grave.

#demon slayer #douma x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #akaza x reader #demon slayer x reader #douma #gyutaro x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #akaza #kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #kny gyutaro #kny akaza #kny douma #kny x reader #kny kokushibo