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#my mind palace is so lonely
doctorslippery · 2 months
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and comic books…and rpg stuff…and star trek…and star wars…etc, etc
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disacurveball · 1 year
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Haha what if the reason that Lucius Malfoy had the diary is because Tom Riddle gave it to closest friend Abraxas Malfoy for safe keeping…who slowly went insane because he could not stop using it as a conduit of his unrequited love. Jk Jk…unless—
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ajdrawshq · 1 year
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points at these ^ things. akira n akechi
#like. yknow ?#sorry ive hit that point of hyperfixation where i have to give everyone a pokemon team n this wouldnt leave my mind#unovan/regular is Akiras n hisuian is Akechis . for obvious reasons#if u know pokedex entires n movepools etc etc#the fact that they also match their color schemes is a happy accident#i have a lot of ideas for these 2...........#also just appreciating hisuian zororark for a sec. what a gorgeous fucked up creature im so glad they had zoroarks og creator make it too#i love their signature moves too.... night daze n bitter malice......#their stats n types match p well too tbh. hisuian is technically stronger (in special attack) and faster#unovan is a balanced mixed attacker and its dark type gives it an edge against hisuians ghost type#and unovans dark type n better physical attack can mirror Arsénes 2 main attack types#while hisuians ghost and normal types can be compared to curse and either phys or almighty damage#unovan and hisuian zorua are called the tricky fox pokemon and baneful fox pokemon respectively#unovan zoroark tends to stay in packs n is protective of others of its kind and hisuian will attack so fiercely that it harms itself#i. really like zoroark. can u tell#BUT YEAH i just think that. yeah#even hisuian zoroarks origins could be similar to Akechi if u squint hard enough#n both of their illusionary abilities can be compared to both palace stuff n the third semester........#also . that one unovan Zoroark dex entry that talks abt ppl who are lonely asking Zoroark for illusions of others. Man. i need to use that#p5#pkmn
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lovphobic · 11 months
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damn are u me bc SAME (unfortunately)) and it's kinda eating me alive bc one of them has this super awesome bf that really cares about her and is putting in the effort to show it and yeah I'm happy for her bc she deserves the world but also I sometimes think about how I've always been alone and haven't even kissed yet and I'm like. am i not pretty or interesting enough for someone to put effort in?? and i feel bad about feeling envious lol but it's ok
FORREAAAALLLLL like god i love my friends i am happy for them but after having two like supremely toxic relationships its just like. well when will it be my fucking turn huh. and i FEEL u on the kiss thing bc neither have i <3 and ive definitely been pitied for it too.. YAY.
but like. ok maybe this is toxic maybe not but. i think being envious is ok? just as long as its kept in check. like you dont Ruin your friendship over the envy. is that toxic am i cancelled.
#like on one hand i am SOOOOOOOOO sick of seeing u guys be happy but also like. i keep that shit inside i dont take it out on anyone bc its#immature and childish and wrong. but my feelings are something i cant control yk? and on the other hand its like FUUUUUUUUCK YES I AM SO#HAPPY THAT U ARE HAPPY YESSSSSSSS TELL ME EVERYTHING!! and its just a very weird war for me to be waging. by myself. in my mind palace#like. my second gf wasnt great to me. my recent ex was DEFINITELY not good to me. the weird fling i had w a guy last year when i had an#identity crisis left me feeling used (if u know. well. u know.) so its like. am i just not fucking deserving ? am i not deserving of#something nice that feels like coming home? that reminds me i didnt even get to have closure on my last crush bc it was fucking spearheaded#by my fucking ex and well THEYRE still friends go fucking figure fuck you guys#like the last time i truly felt loved was back in 2019. im so serious. like. i know im loved platonically sure. thats great and i love you#guys too. but this cant sustain me. im getting lonely and im getting bitter and i dont have anyone to blame. like. not even myself. which#SUCKS. it SO SUCKS. like . i dont know. i want something real before i die. i dont have a lifespan like you guys. my condition will#literally probably kill me. and like. im gonna die not knowing true love. thats where im at. thats kinda what im reminded of seeing all my#friends this happy. because they live normal lives. i dont even feel like i Deserve love but i want it so bad#did you know my ex when we like first started dating was like what am i gonna do when you die. what would i tell the kids. like you just#fucking say that to someone you love? you make the fact that their disability will likely kill them into a problem YOU have to face?#do you see what i mean. i just want to feel wanted. without conditions#snail mail#lol i made myself cry. im so hot hot girl summer (chokes)
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baeshijima · 11 months
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— hsr men in a royalty au
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INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader
A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.
genshin ver.
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imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?
there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.
jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.
(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)
despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before…
for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.
dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.
(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)
royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.
the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.
it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more… intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.
(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)
with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.
being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.
there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.
(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)
thinking about duke!blade, whose… less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.
the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.
he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.
(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)
amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem… off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.
there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.
sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.
(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you… removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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barefoot-joker · 2 months
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Snake in the Garden Pt 2~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader
Hello, everybody! And welcome to part 2 of Snake in the Garden! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I can't wait to see what you guys think. There will be a couple more parts after this one, so be on the lookout! At the end I will have a taglist of people. If you would like to be added, don't hesitate to comment. Again, I'm sorry if Lucifer is OOC. I tried my best. As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 2877
Warnings: Swearing, Mental Breakdown, Forced Companionship, Possessive Tendencies, Ignoring One's Wishes
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
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I sighed as I shifted in the large King sized bed. It was quite comfortable with red silk sheets, fuzzy blankets and so many pillows one could almost make an igloo. While the mattress was quite huge, I wasn’t given much room to move. Currently His Majesty had his inky black arms wrapped around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. The heat of his breath and body felt hotter than the fires of Hell. I tried to shift again but he just cuddled closer. “Just five more minutes, darling.”
“Please, Lucifer-”
“I love it when you say my name,” he purred.
“I really need to go to the bathroom. I promise I’ll come right back.”
He hummed and I shuddered as his claws lightly tapped at my hip. “I suppose I can allow it. But do be quick, I’ll miss you.”
His grip loosened and I was quick to sit up. Fast walking to the bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me. While there was no doubt in my mind he could use some magic to open the door if he wanted to, the lock soothed some sense of protection in me. A sigh of relief escaped me as I sat on the toilet and let my hands run down my face. I didn’t really need to use the bathroom, it was just a lame excuse to get away for a few minutes. After all, it had only been a few hours since I found out my little Red was actually the Devil himself and I was being ushered into the role of Queen of Hell. I shook my head as I tried to get rid of the look of adoration he held in his eyes throughout the night. It was frightening. Silently, I played with the hem of my favorite color nightgown as I tried to think of a way out of this. 
It’s not like I could kill him. He seemed pretty agile on his feet and with magic on his side he’d be able to stop a fatal blow.
Leaving wasn’t an option either. There was palace staff everywhere, little demons with suits waiting for their master’s beck and call. The property was guarded by David and Goliath as well. Besides, I didn’t really know the layout of the castle and would just be going in blind, despite the elaborate tour I had gotten.
The final thought was to play into his game, make him believe I was in love with him. I mentally gagged. Not only did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle pretending to be a fan of his courtship, I feel he would be able to sniff out my intentions right away. He was an ancient being of many eons after all and he had a previous wife.
I looked up from my thoughts and gazed at the Victorian stained glass window in front of me. The window was able to be pulled apart in the middle as there was a latch on either side. Hold on a minute.
I got up and stalked over, undoing the golden latch quietly. Looking down, I gulped at how high up we were. The dead grass seemed miles away. Perhaps if I got a rope of some sort I’d be able to climb out? 
“Darling, are you almost done in there? It’s getting quite lonely out here.”
“C-coming!”
I quickly closed the window, flushed the toilet, and turned on the sink. Can’t have him believing I was a liar already. A few seconds later I shut off the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it, I could see Lucifer’s gaze shift towards me and a smile peeled at his lips. He patted the empty side of the bed so I slowly walked over. I peeled back the thin black curtain that surrounded the four poster bed and sat. His claws slid across the blankets and planted themselves on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly. “I’ve canceled all my meetings for the day to help try and get you more situated, dear. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”
“I suppose.”
I turned my head to glance at the blankets, my fingers drawing patterns being more entertaining. Suddenly a knock at the door had us both looking towards it. “Sire, breakfast is ready.”
“Thank you. We’ll be down in a few.”
“Of course, Sire.”
I heard little footsteps scurry away. “I guess that’s our cue to get up.”
He pulled back the blankets and I blushed upon seeing him shirtless and with boxers that had apples all over. I had forgotten that’s how he went to bed. He slipped past me and headed to a dark oak wardrobe across from the bed and opened it. Lucifer shifted through the various clothes before deciding on something. He brought out two hangers and laid them on the bed. One was the white suit that he wore yesterday and the other was a lacy white blouse, velvety green skirt and black boots. “I’ll admit I don’t have many options for you to wear as of right now. We’ll have to go shopping together sometime soon. I hope this will suffice for now.”
“It’s fine, thank you.”
I slid off the bed, grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I locked the door and began to strip. It took me a few minutes to do up the buttons on the blouse but once I was done I walked back into the bedroom. Lucifer was just putting on his boots while I draped my nightgown over the back of a chair. “Well don’t you just look enchanting, my dear.”
“Always the charmer, aren’t you?” “I’m just stating the truth.”
He leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. I just huffed. “Shall we go?”
I nodded. Interlocking our arms together, Lucifer led the way to the dining room. It was quite the grand room with a chandelier hanging above the large table. The blonde pulled out my chair for me and scooted it in once I had sat. He placed himself across from me and as soon as we were situated a few castle staff came out. They placed a mug in front of each of us, a dark roast coffee smell emitting from it. Plates were put on the table as well. A couple of eggs, sausage and bacon were put in the form of a happy face, something I’m sure Lucifer had a hand in. Breakfast was quiet as the King looked over his newspaper and I poked at my food. From what I ate it was quite good, just uncomfortable with those red eyes gazing at me every once in a while. 
When the table was cleared, the two of us walked towards the Devil’s workshop. Lucifer gently pushed me into a black high backed chair as he sat on a stool on a podium. I looked at all the rubber ducks that filled the various containers spread throughout the room wondering why. Why rubber ducks? Why so many?
“I hope you don’t mind me working on my latest creation, dearest.”
“Not at all. But, um, what am I supposed to do?”
“Ah, how foolish of me! Here you are.”
A book materialized on the table in front of me and I realized it was one of my favorites. “I hope that is alright.”
I nodded and flipped it open. For a few hours our time was spent like this: him working on his latest invention and I reading. A little bit in I became a bit restless. I placed my book down and gazed around the small room. Besides the rubber ducks and table I sat at, there were other various knick knacks on bookshelves, tools hanging on the walls and some framed photos. The photos had the same three people in them: Lucifer, a beautiful blonde woman and a young blonde girl. Could that be his wife and daughter he mentioned before? “And, done!”
Lucifer spun on his stool to face me and proudly held out his creation. It was a yellow rubber duck with red music notes painted all over it. “How…interesting.”
He stood and placed the duck in my hands. “I know it may look normal, but this is no ordinary duck. Here,” he squeezed the wings and suddenly music came spilling from its beak. 
It was a romantic tune, one I didn’t recognize but sounded familiar. It sounded like a song I’d hear play from the church I’d walk past every day. “It’s music from my birth place. The tune was often played at our festivities and it just reminded me of you.”
“Well, thank you, I guess.”
I sat the duck down on the table and sighed. There he goes with the romantic gestures again. “Is it not to your liking, my love?”
“No, it's just…nevermind.”
I could feel his hands wrap around my shoulders and I tensed. “What’s wrong, Y/n? You’ve been off all day.”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Of course! Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!”
“I want to go home. My actual home on Earth. I, I don’t belong here, Lucifer.”
I could feel tears in my eyes as I gazed down at my hands in my lap. The hands on my shoulders squoze. “You know I can’t do that, sweetie. Your place is by my side here in Hell.”
I clenched my hands and bit my lip. Anger started to slowly rise within me. I stood fast, Lucifer’s hands flying off my shoulders. “How can you decide where I belong? You’re not my father nor are you my husband. Can’t you see how much I hate it here? How much I hate you?!”
His eyes widened and I rushed out of the room. I heard him call for me but I just ignored it. Tears fell down my cheeks as I let my legs carry me throughout the palace till I reached the outside. I fell to the ground near a hand carved stone bench and let my feelings out. I truly didn’t want to be courted by the Devil and no way did I want to remain in my own personal hell. Why couldn’t things be back to normal where I could tend to my garden and have Red join me? Red, that damn snake. Why did he have to come into my life? If only I hadn’t let my kind nature tend to him, then perhaps I’d still be home. “Damn him! DAMN HIM!”
I slammed my hands on the bench and continued to cry. It felt like an eternity till all my crying had ceased and I took the time to look around. That’s when I noticed something in the overgrowth surrounding the fence on the property. I stood and made my way over, pulling at the wiry, thorny brush. My eyes widened as I saw a hole in the fence. Could this be a sign from God? Was he giving me a way out? I looked back at the palace and then back to the fence. As much as I wanted to leave now I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Lucifer was no doubt looking for me and leaving would only heighten his upset emotions. I’ll just have to keep this in mind.
I moved the brush back to how it was originally and stepped away, just in time too. One of the servants came out from the glass doors and headed towards me. “Miss Y/n, His Majesty has been looking all over for you! He’s been worried sick!”
I didn’t say anything as he gently grabbed my hand, dragging me inside. “Come along. He’ll be glad to see you in one piece.”
The next few days Lucifer and I spent walking on eggshells around each other. There was an awkward air about us as we went about our days. I suppose my outburst was the cause of it. Even with our hesitation, the demon did his best to court me. Meals were spent in each other’s presence at close proximity, gifts of flowers, rubber ducks and long walks around the property were fairly common, and intimacy was at an all time high. Lucifer had to have his hands on me at all times and kisses on the cheeks and forehead happened at every turn. It was about a week later that His Majesty decided it was time we went out into the city. One of the servants drove us in and the ride over I was given some guidelines. “You are to stay by my side at all times. Pentagram City is quite the dangerous place. If somebody gets too close, I will deal with it personally. Anybody that talks to you will go through me and please dear, don’t hesitate to have fun.”
I’ll try with the short leash you have on me.
The car stopped and Lucifer and I got out. He stooped to the window and whispered something to the driver before coming to my side. Interlocking our arms, we began our walk. “I thought some fresh air away from home would do us both some good, my darling. Besides, this will give us a chance to look for some clothes for you.”
I nodded. As we walked down the sidewalk I could feel a dozen stares pointed in our direction, whispers about our presence floating amongst the civilians. Lucifer didn’t seem to mind but with all the gawking I felt a bit shy. As we passed by an ornate window display, he stopped suddenly. “This seems right up your alley, sweetie.”
He pulled us inside the store. We stood at the entryway and I couldn’t help but gaze at the various clothes. It seemed this shop was more on the posh end, with skirts, dresses and fancy blouses decorating the mannequins. The store itself was a bit busy as customers wandered, but as soon as we entered all eyes were on us. I did my best to shrink into myself while Lucifer puffed out his chest in pride. “Your Majesty, welcome! How grand of you to grace us with your presence! How can we help you today,” asked a female imp in black clothes. 
“My darling here is lacking a wardrobe at home, so I thought it fit to come and look around.”
The woman looked me up and down and smiled. “I’m sure we can find something for your sweetheart. If you’d like to follow me please we can start looking at some pieces.”
I looked to the short man beside me and he just nodded in her direction. “Don’t be shy, dear.”
The two of us followed along as the imp pointed out some options, Lucifer stating his opinion on each one. When we had grown quite the collection, we were led to the fitting rooms in the back. The King perched himself on a plush bench as I stepped into one of the smaller rooms. As I was getting dressed, I heard a phone going off. The circus ringtone rang throughout the store until it stopped when the person picked up. “Charlie, sweetie, how are you?”
I stopped upon hearing Lucifer’s voice. “That’s great to hear. You and Maggie had a good date the other night? Wonderful. How have things at the hotel been? Any recent sinners looking to be redeemed?”
Redeemed? I scooted closer to the curtain to listen in. “I see. Heaven is giving you a hard time, eh?”
Heaven? “What am I up to? Oh your old man is just taking a stroll through town. Listen Charlie, I am quite busy at the moment. How about I give you a call later, okay? Alright sounds good. Buh bye. How’s it going in there, Y/n?”
I stepped out and a smirk rested itself on his face. “My, my. Don’t you look lovely. You know, if we were back at home I don’t think I could hold myself back from ravishing you.”
I felt a shudder go up my spine. Gross!
“I like that blouse on you. It brings out your eyes very nicely. How about trying some more on for dear ole Luci?”
“O-okay.”
I slammed the curtain shut and let myself gag at what he had said earlier. How very forward of him. Now about this hotel…maybe this could be my ticket out of here. 
“Lucifer?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Oh, that was my daughter Charlie!”
“I thought you said you didn’t have a great relationship with her?”
“I don’t, but we’re working on it. I’m helping her with her little passion project.”
“Oh? And what’s that?” Gotcha.
“The Hazbin Hotel. She believes she can solve Hell’s population problem by getting sinners redeemed into Heaven. I honestly don’t see the point, but if helping brings us closer together then I’ll be there for her.”
“I see.” Perhaps if I went the Princess of Hell could get me back to Earth!
After I had tried everything on, we went to the checkout counter and bought a few pieces. I carried the bags back to the car and the whole time I brewed up a plan on how to escape.
~~~~
TAGLIST
@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
Text
tw - fem!reader, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, prolonged imprisonment.
“Mistress prisoner?”
There was a knock, the sound of hoofed feet shuffling against a tile floor. You shrunk into yourself, suddenly thankful you’d chosen to take such a claustrophobic linen closet to seek refuge in, that Neuvillette’s awful gowns provided so much fabric for you to bury yourself in.
“Mistress prisoner? Are you alright?”
Another knock, a round of hushed whispering. Clearly, he’d sent more than one, this time.
“Should we get a healer for you, mistress?”
You swore under your breath, burying your face in your knees. Curse your bleeding heart.
Slowly, taking pains to wipe the lingering tears from your cheeks without wrinkling the fine silk of your sleeve, you pushed yourself to your feet. He was a bastard of a man, an underhanded thief masquerading as the living embodiment of justice, but tragically, Neuvillette had caught on to the only weakness you had in this palace of unearned punishments and hollow promises. You would be able to bear it if he thought of you as a petulant child, too stubborn to accept his protection or his love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be quite so heartless when it came to the melusines.
You pulled the door open, resting your shoulder against the frame. He’d sent three, this time – all wearing modified garde uniforms and none standing taller than your waist. They were clustered close together, but as you emerged, the centermost girl stepped forward, this one totting pastel pink skin and curling horns and cheeks you’d give anything to squeeze. “We spoke with Monsieur Neuvillette,” she started, clearly shy despite having appointed herself as the leader of their little group. When she paused, her gaze fell away from yours, dropping to her feet. “He said you wouldn’t mind if we asked why you don’t want to attend the opera with us, tonight.”  
Oh, you were going to throttle that old man.
You forced yourself to smile. No part of you wanted to be seen in public with your captor, to hear onlookers praise his kindness, his willingness to care for even the most irredeemable of criminals while knowing he wouldn’t make it past the first aria before finding some reason to pull you into some unused dressing room and abuse his authority yet again. But, explaining the length of your hatred to the creatures he showed so much fondness toward would be like trying to tell a child that their favorite candy was the source of their aching cavities. You were better off saving your breath. “Neuvillette didn’t mention that you’d be coming with us.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.” It was the blue one, this time – with flowers dotted across her arms and legs and a tone so meek, it was all you could do not to take her into your arms and promise her that you’d go to as many operas as she could stand to attend. “He said it’d help to raise your spirits.”
You let out a soft coo, crouching down to their height. “It was a very sweet idea,” you said, fighting not to melt at the sight of their little, doe-like noses and big, star-filled eyes. “And I very much appreciate that you three would care enough to try and cheer me up. It’s only…”
You paused, clicked your tongue. Predictably, the third member of their little trio (who had yet to uncross her arms or drop her adorably pointed glare) chimed in. “What is it? We don’t have all day, y’know.”
“Well, I might not be at my best, but Monsieur Neuvillette’s been awfully lonely lately too.” Lonely – that was one way to put it. It was hard to imagine he’d even be capable of feeling anything so fundamentally human. “I’m afraid, if I’m having so much fun with all of you, he might feel a little left out. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to do that to him, can’t you?”
There was a round of nodding heads, of words of affirmation. The leader piped up first, both hands balled into fists and wide eyes bright with a resilient spark. “We won’t let Monsieur Neuvillette get lonely!”
“We won’t leave his side!”
“We’ll stick to him like glue!”
With a breath of a laugh, you pulled the little trio into your arms and press a kiss into the tops of their heads. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, girls. I’ll see you at the opera house tonight, and remember–“
This time, you didn’t have to fake your smile.
“Don’t let Neuvillette go a moment without your delightful company.”
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occudo · 3 months
Note
wait, yo there’s an entire mage magic system in this au? Might I ask for more details?
Sooo...
The short answer is that is a soft magic system, with no hard rules, it's just fun with the characters.
The long answer on the other hand...
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I had a similar ask before, but since then some things changed, so I guess I try to explain it as best as I can.
So! This is a magical-fantasy-medieval AU, I was loosely inspired by arthurameslove 's fic This Lonely Knight, but since then I made my own version of a similar premise. The magic system is based on the original fears, the avatars are people who are affected by their magic, in one way or another. The more close to the fear the person is, the more magical effect it has.
The most known magic users are witches. They go to school to study, and from there, they can go and become advisors in small kingdoms where they can get gifted titles like Lady and Lord, but they don't get actual lands or servants.
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Jon is not an advisor, but Elias' protégé and he can afford to employ Martin, who is a Knight, and previously worked for Lord Lucas. Elias is the advisor of King Magnus.
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The kingdoms are based around the Fears, with most avatars being nobility or witches. (I wasn't sure if I wanted to make Simon a noble or a mage, maybe he is not so open about his skills) The witches are glass cannons- they can be really powerful in some situations but otherwise, kinda weak so is a common thing to have a designated knight bodyguarding them if they leave their palaces.
Martin is 'touched' but can't do magic the way Jon, or other witches.
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If a witch finishes school, they are respected and believed that they can control powerful magic (with circles and runes) without it affecting their bodies and minds negatively - not like Jane Prentiss, for example. She was a noblewoman who got- corrupted.
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Not every witch goes to serve nobility, there are plenty of small village witches, and Gertrude also tried to leave the palace and become a bog witch kinda deal.
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Innisially for this au, I made the 'witch factor' the characters' connection to the eye in canon. I didn't see either Tim or Martin really eye-aligned, so I made them knights instead.
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Since then I added Sky Mages for the Vast avatars- I just tought flying and stars and sky really deserve their own coven.
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I'm not sure about the other fears names and schools jet. The phrase Seer Mage came from @skell3 's fanfic inspired by my comic, and I loved it so much that I baked it in my au. Also, the thought that eye-aligned mages are all about seeking truth and other's secrets, while can't really fly or fight mutch was funny to me.
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So this is a loosy-goosy system that I'm still working on. I'm also open to suggestions- like with Basira and Daisy- they ended up being witch hunters.
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or Georgie and Melanie
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And I changed Michael from a jester to an actual noble/prince
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So yeah, I hope this answers your question. Mostly a character-based, case-by-case thingy.
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1-marigold-1 · 4 months
Text
An AU thingy that umm, please listen to my ramble I beg you :[
Hello!!! Had this AU in mind for a bit too long decided to dump it all here :] sorry if it's all a bit messy I'm bad at organising those stuff hghghgghg <-- delusional (explanation and story below the images)
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So:
I call it the FMN AU [Forget-Me-Not] and it's set in a fantasy world of course, in a great Empire of Heremitaran.
Because of how big the Empire is, it's divided in two, with two rulers: Ren The King of the North known for his bravery, plenty of victories, feared by those outside of his Empire , and the other one in the Sout is ... well... Mumbo.. (yes he's a king because his father died, he sucks at it tho, can't help but be that wet poor cat and not knowing what to do).
And that's when we come in with Grian and Scar.
There's a crown, to be specific, called the Vacivus Halo which is safely kept in Ren's vault , away from the rest of the world. It's the most powerful thing ever known, and Watchers are ready to fight for it against Listeners, who are worshipped by most of north people and Ren himself. The war those two spiecies of angel-gods started over a crown has been going for many centuries and now when Listeners has had it for themselves for so long, Watchers start to fear that they might use it against them to finally get rid of the enemy.
The crown has been under Watchers' control for some time too, that's when they tasked Mumbo's father with protecting it, but he died at war, crown got stolen, landed in Ren's hands and now all they got is Mumbo... They quickly realized that he's definetely not... well.. worthy? So they give the task of getting it back to an orphan living near the palace. He's a poor chicken keeper until he meets one of The Watchers disguised as a snake, asking him for help, the snake promises him everything he wants. So he agrees.
He gets powers such as:
Manipulating others' minds [putting images and memories that never existed before into anyone's head ]. It's his most powerful ability that he uses by just looking into their eyes, yet there's one thing about it: he can't make people forget the things he puts in their heads.
Flight, he has a cape that turns into wings when needed.
He can see what his snake sees whenever he wants, so he can use it to spy on people.
With those abilities he fools everyone at the palace into believing he's Mumbo's new guard and personal assasin, so he can be always close to the ruler who should be visiting the North very soon... he also makes friends with the young king, they get along pretty well.
Meanwhile Scar has a simmiliar story, though he was an assasin and Ren's guard before Listeners chose him. Ren is still in a good shape and probably will still be a good protector of the crown, but they felt like they need more than one If Watchers ever plan on getting the crown back, so they chose Scar by appearing to him as a cat, they wanted to tell him that they are ready to give him anything he wishes for but he was like "KITTY!!!!!!!! HELLO YOU SO CUTE!!" and agreed right away, just to have a scarf that turns into a cat...... he likes cats alright, he's been feeling pretty lonely recently too...
Scar's powers are:
Super speed [he got it with the boots]
Sensitive Hearing
Completely silent walking
He also got his cat [he named it Jellie because it's semi-transparent like a jelly when in not-scarf form lol] that can transform into a tiger like creature sometimes.
Yeah guess what.
They meet. Grian and Scar. They. Meet.
And they uhhh kinda make friends with eachother and don't really think that they might be enemies.
Watchers don't know that Scar is Listeners' servant, and the other way around, Listeners don't know that Grian is Watchers' servant.
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Things escalate from here...... and that's where the story starts!
I have plans on making short comics and stories to tell you the lore piece by piece, but be aware that updates won't be very often, I'll try tho!
ASK ABOUT ANYTHING I WILL ANSWER THE QUESTIONS
Also
Just wanted to add that I made this AU long time ago and Jellie is a fundamental thing in it, very important, as much as she was important to all of us, may she rest in peace <3
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tadpolesonalgae · 2 months
Text
The High Lord’s Whore
Eris x reader
summary: Coming from a disgraced family, you decided to take matters into your own hands, restoring your family’s name to its former glory the only way you could—by becoming the High Lord’s whore. Despite the demeaning title, you’re looked after, and treated well. Perhaps unusually so by your High Lord’s eldest son, Eris.
a/n: anon <3 request—thank you so much for this! I had a lot of fun writing this!!
word count: 2,481
——————————————————————————————————————————————
You’re surprised by the amount of respect afforded to you in spite of your demeaning actions. You would have thought his attendants would be expected to keep out of daylight, to be known as little more than whispers behind closed doors or hushed gossip shared by the servants during meal preparations. Yet you’re often at his side, whether at public dinners or meals in private, you’re taken aback at how much time you now spend accompanied by high society.
Another surprise was how off-limits you were to everyone else. Part of you had expected to be uselessly handed around, possibly used by other males in his favour, tossed from room to room, from one set of hands to the next. Yet any attempts at seduction have been shut down faster than you can blink, either by a hand at your waist, or a fire-filled glance that would send any noblemale running.
You can only assume the High Lord of Autumn must have ordered his eldest son to keep you out of harms way. Could see no other reason for the protectiveness that frequently teeters on possessive, bordering on blatant aggression when opposed with any type of competition, weak or mild.
All it takes is a look, and you’re left in peace.
Yet this night, he seems to have his attention elsewhere, as you’re having surprising trouble dissuading the Lord that’s not so subtly trying to get beneath your skirts. It’s been a while since you’ve had to take matters into your own hands, left a little out of practice.
Still, when you get the chance, and once you’ve deemed it late enough, you manage to slip out from the great ballroom, finding a lonely corridor that seems vacant enough. You sigh, leaning against a wall. Thankfully the High Lord has not called for you tonight, hopefully being set free for the evening. One you’ll gladly take to get some extra reading in.
You caught the tale end of one of his conversations, mentioning a favoured noblemale would be returning after a journey elsewhere, and you would like to be fully prepared to defend your position. Everyone knows the pleasure points are dolled out through appeasing the High Lord as well as politely catering to others in his close circles.
Pushing off from the wall, you make to continue down the long, stretching hallways of the palace, aiming for the library when a hand coils tight around your wrist, jerking you to a stop. Forcing you to turn, coming face-to-face with the pushy, evidently drunk, Lord from earlier. Your heart thunders in your chest out of habit, instinctively uneasy at the unwanted advances from a male. You have no doubt your position would be compromised should the High Lord ever learn of you sleeping with anyone other than himself. And so for that reason, you attempt to extract you wrist from his grip.
“Are you lost, my Lord?” You ask, practically ripping away from him, taking a polite step back to even out the distance. He’s breathing heavily, and makes a dumb groaning sound, before stumbling forward on wobbly legs. Evidently drunk out of his mind.
“My Lord, I think you should retire to bed now,” you say politely, but firmly, voice cutting and clean as glass as you again step backward, shifting with him as you would a dance partner. Granted, a fairly inelegant one, but one nonetheless. “Come…come here,” he manages to slur out, hand reaching forward but you again step away, mentally mapping out the hallways that connect to the one you’re in. Dancing back a few steps at a time like you would when teaching a child to walk.
“Damnit…come…come here,” he huffs, lunging with both arms, almost tripping over his own lumbering feet. Really, you could simply vanish elsewhere, but that would make him someone else’s problem, and the idea of what would have happened had he set his sights on any other female who might not know how to evade his advances leaves just enough of a foul after-taste in your mouth to continue goading him slowly down hallways until you can find one with guards at the ready. They’ll be fully within their rights to use force to escort him elsewhere.
You’re poised to turn a corner, when a coil of flame shoots from his hand, snagging your ankle and you have just enough grace to keep from tumbling over. He grunts excitedly, and you grimace at the sound, pausing to consider your options. “Caught you…” he huffs, quickly approaching. “Pesky rabbit.”
You tilt your head as he reaches for you, ankle still caught in the magic snare, hands wrapping tight around his wrists to prevent him from touching you further. “Rabbit?” You inquire with a faint smile, peering down at the panting Lord, keeping your spine set and shoulders tight as you stand your ground. “Would that make you a hunter, or a fox?” You ask, squeezing firmly to keep him in check. Just a little further and you’ll be in sight of the guards. If you could just turn the corner…
“Hunters kill their catch,” he pants, struggling in your hold, fire heating around your ankle. “Foxes eat them.” You quirk a brow, surprised by his strength despite the obvious inebriation. “So a fox, then?”
He bares his teeth in a grin, face flushed from exertion, and you notice the wedding band on his hand, cringing inwardly. “Well, Sir, that is quite a shame,” you muse, though you don’t think he’s listening anymore. “Hunters capture foxes, as well as rabbits.”
Cool relief sweeps down your spine as a fire-hot palm singes the expensive fabric on his shoulder, gripping tight enough that he hisses, releasing you, magic vanishing as he turns, coming face-to-face with the High Lord’s eldest son. Well, maybe not quite face-to-face. There’s more than a foot of height separating them.
Eris’ scowl is enough to break through the Lord’s drunken state, spine straightening, hands dropping to his sides upon marking the distain in the Heir’s sharp eyes, the downward cut of his mouth. “My apologies,” he stammers out gruffly, clearing his throat with a wet cough that has Eris’ brows narrowing, displeasure tucked between them as fire blazes cooly behind his gaze.
You mange the last steps back to the corner, instantly gaining the guard’s attention—it’s hard to miss your vibrant shade of orange, or the gleaming twinkles stitched into the bodice of your dress, flame incarnate. You know how the Heir’s temper can boil over despite his calm exterior, like the cool and jagged stone that contains the volatile heat of magma. Right now you’re worried he might release that scalding lava atop the trembling Lord, and that would cause quite the mess for the poor servants to handle. So with a polite smile that almost boarders on a friendly wince, you beckon one over to help prevent a potential crises.
“I swear— I, gosh, I had, I swear I had no idea,” the Lord is fumbling beneath the burning glare of your patron’s son, and you’re practically able to smell the sweat and fear dripping from the male’s brow, as if already being slowly boiled alive. “You understand don’t you, Eris? If I may humbly address you as such—”
The blazing heat in his gaze dims, walled off as he finds the guard you’d summoned. “Get him out of my sight,” he orders sharply, and you’re rather impressed that the guard doesn’t balk at the stern tone. It’s not one you’d like to be on the wrong end off. But the guard follow through dutifully, firmly escorting the male away, who still seems to be rambling apologies.
You reset your spine, keeping your shoulders level and posture controlled as you turn to meet the High Lord’s eldest’s gaze, keeping your chin slightly dipped. “I apologise for the trouble, my Lord,” you say, head bowing as you sketch a light curtsey. The fire seems to have banked from his eyes, now just as cold and calculating as usual, not even an ember left. “You should take more care while walking on nights like these,” he states shortly, brows narrowed as he looks you over, stepping closer.
His nostrils flare delicately, whiskey and caramel sparking briefly with distain. “I suggest you bathe before applying your affections elsewhere,” he remarks in that clipped way of his—a suggestion that really isn’t a suggestion. “My affections are not required tonight, so I suppose I will take my time,” you reply, pulling a polite smile to your lips, searching for any clue to the thoughts that are doubtlessly passing through his mind. Will he mention the advances to his father, or keep them to himself until the time’s right. He should have seen you were not encouraging them, and he hasn’t paid you much attention until now, so that shouldn’t be a problem for you to concern yourself with.
Eris’ focus flickers over you again, noting your positioning—having found you in the corridors rather than the great hall. “You’re retiring for the night,” he asks, again in that tone that shows it isn’t quite a question. “I thought I might get an early evening as my presence is not required, and I have nothing else to put my attention toward,” you reply, sprinkling in some truth with the lie. While having access to the libraries technically—you haven’t been forbidden from them—it would be better as few people as possible know where you spend your free time.
His exterior remains indecipherable, but he steps forward, offering his arm in one smooth motion, and you settle your hand atop his out of habit, the etiquette trained into you despite having grown up without need for it. “I’m sure I could manage the walk back to my chambers unbothered,” you try, keeping your tone inoffensive and unassuming, “I would’t want to pull you away from the ball. Your presence will be missed.”
“I can spare a few minutes,” he answers shortly, keeping his attention ahead as he guides you through the halls. “Perhaps allow the conversation to replenish itself.”
“Have many people asked about the return of Lord Blandar?” You inquire with a hint of sympathy, glancing at him. “One step ahead, as usual,” he mutters under his breath, your mouth cutting into a faint smile, his eyes lingering a little longer than usual. “Are you going to ask, as well?”
“Would you like me to?”
“I’m sure you have no need to ask.”
You raise a brow, watching him in your peripherals. “What makes you think that, my Lord?”
Again he briefly glances at you, before returning his attention to the corridor. “It’s quite remarkable you happened to share an interest in Hermet Glaust with Lord Shamsted,” he says, and a stitch of tension is sewn through your shoulders. “Also your fascination with agriculture that seemed to spring up discussion with Lord Crowsley. Not to mention your abrupt adoration for violin concertos that you mentioned while conversing with Lady Sorrerly.”
Sharp amber and whiskey eyes pierce into you, far too observing for your liking, but you suppose it’s how he’s held his position for so long—what’s enabled him to keep his brothers in check. “I like knowing who I’m talking to, and what interests them,” you answer honestly, giving a faint smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.
“All while keeping yourself to a minimum,” he remarks.
“I hadn’t realised I was such a person of interest to you, my Lord,” you reply.
“You aren’t,” he states bluntly, “I keep an eye on everyone within palace walls.”
“Even the servants?” You ask idly, turning to glance up at him.
“Everyone,” he repeats.
You hum in response, peering ahead to where your door is set in the wall. “Then, if it isn’t too much of a presumption, may I ask what it is you think I am interested in, my Lord?” You inquire, keeping your spine straight, nodding briefly to the guard situated at the corner of the hallway. “Apparently pottery, farming, and music, at the least,” he replies blandly, coming to a stop at your chambers while you turn the handle to one of the two doors.
“And the Lord from earlier?” You ask, stepping into your large room, leaning slightly on the frame of the door, partially concealing your body from view. It might be your imagination—a trick of the light—but his mouth tightens. “Putting his hands where they don’t belong,” he answers sternly, not even the slightest hint of amusement on his face.
“And yourself?” You ask with an arched brow, slight mirth upon your lips.
His eyes gleam, but he inclines his head in departure, your attention subtly marking the skilled embroidery of his attire. “Goodnight, my Lady.”
Your mouth twitches, but you keep the smile to yourself. “Goodnight, my Lord.”
————
Hours later, and his skin is still scalding from the fiery rage that had bled through his body, threatening to wipe the male who laid hands on her clean from existence. No drawn out screams, no shackles to keep writhing limbs in place, just swift and brutal execution.
His fingers itch with flame, incandescent light licking against his palms as he plays with the candle on his desk, flickering. How nice it would have been to have the fire lick up the male’s clothing, leaving burn marks in the pattern of a snake-trail, slowly wrapping its way around the body…squeezing…squeezing… The flame turns white, air whooshing as it burns through the oxygen, and he imagines it snatching the breath from his lungs.
Eris leans back in his chair, legs parting, head tipping back as he releases a low groan. He knows his clothing will still hold the remnants of her fragrance, and the crackle of fire in his veins turns to burning arousal, urging him to release his tension somehow. A muscle feathers in his jaw, gritting his teeth against the relentless thoughts, the sensations his body is tempting him with, cock stiffening between his legs.
This part, he hates. Hates with as much of his free-will is left, that hasn’t been consumed by the desire to find her, and bed her. The control that is stripped from him, this one task prioritised over the mountain of work he must complete. It keeps the fury burning in his veins a little longer, long enough he forces himself to sit up straight and grip his quill, aiming to finish the work he sat down to do.
He will not be reduced to such a pathetic mess over her faintest scent; if his body wants release, it’ll have to wait until he agrees to it.
He’ll be damned if his discipline falters over one female.
Even if she is his mate.
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer
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bowieandqueen11 · 5 months
Text
Sanji And Reader Being Smitten With Each Other Would Include...
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Request: Headcanons of sanji with a crush or s/o who is absolutely smitten? Like always glancing or looking at him. Probably got punched across a room in battle after admiring sanji. Literally always looks at him with heart eyes.
My love this is so sweet but honestly I feel like Sanji is exactly the same so I hope you don't mind Sanji being just as smitten with reader :)
Warning: slightly NSFW, mentions of smoking and mentions of blood/ injury!
(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @suuho.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
I mean look at Mr. Heart Eyes right here so let's just say that you're smitten? You're with the perfect man then because oh my goooossshh have you driven ZORO crazy with how infatuated the two of you are with each other. This poor swordsman has to spend 90% of his time barrel rolling you out of the way and diving in front of Sanji because you dopey dumbasses (affectionate in my case and derogatory in Zoro's) will just not. stop. gaping. at. each. other.
It all started when you agreed to escape the Germa Kingdom with your young princely friend; for many a year, since that fateful day he had literally walked face first into you while you were pretend playing pirates with some of your school chums in the marketplace, Sanji had been inseparable from you. Whether it was him sneaking out to find some solace in your welcoming home, or you trudging over the imposing walls of the palace so you could sneak down into the dungeons and hold a weeping Sanji's hand through the bar grates, you had been the one thing in his life since his mother's passing that had kept him sane.
And now here you were: worried eyes dampened by the torrential rain, but still peering over his face on that desolate rock the three of you ended up shipwrecked on. The whole eighty five days the two of you were stuck on that lonely side, with nothing but the unending stretch of unsultry gloam to keep you company, Sanji believed you were an angel sent to keep him safe. It was the way you shoved the crummy tins you had managed to shovel into your pockets while the ship was going down into Sanji's arms, shaking your head and pressing them further into his stomach as he began to protest. It was the lack of care you had for yourself, so intent you were with making sure he was doing as well as he possibly could: scooping murky water out of the crevices with your hands, just so you could run back and let it trickle down your fingertips and against his chapping lips. How some nights you hadn't slept a wink, too busy chasing away the growing whirlwind of seagulls that circled over your heads, diving down to try and peck at Sanji's burning legs. Making sure that he was tucked tightly under the overhanging edge of a crag, relinquishing the only bit of cover on this small island so Sanji could at least be a little sheltered from the constant downpour. Not only that, but you had even tried to comfort him: offering him a tired smile as you let your fingers shakily run through his hair and tuck away the stubborn curls behind his right ear.
He had held you against him then, as tightly as he could. Wracking with shivers, he couldn't quite figure out if it was due to the freezing cold wind that blew in from the North and snapped at his fingers, or the growing guilt that left him sniffling against your shoulder. It was so hard to focus on anything, with the sleet biting at his face, the imposing waves eating away at the stones beneath your feet. So he did the only thing his dispirited mind could still home in on: the one thing he would regret never doing, if he really were to wane away on this forsaken rock. He let his eyes flutter close, and he used the crash of lightening to mask his thundering heart as he tilted his head up and bashfully pecked your cheek.
For a moment, you thought it was just another hot splash of rain, until you caught sight of Sanji pulling away quickly and ducking his head in embarrassment.
'I-I don't know if we'll ever- well, I'm giving that kiss to you as a loan. I fully expect to get it back.' He managed to rouse some kind of meagre conviction in his hollow voice as he turned to watch your reaction; when he realised you weren't horrified, but instead were wide-eyed with shock as your pointer finger glazed over the wet mark left on your skin, he found himself hopeful for the first time in his life.
God, the two of you were both so gone. It was haunting, in its own beautiful way, as you gripped onto his hand and squeezed.
Far too many times has Zeff nearly blown the kitchen down with the amount of boiling smoke pouring out of his ears due to you two. It wasn't your fault that you had been assigned to the kitchen for your shift: Zeff should have known better, considering the exact same thing had happened yesterday... and the day before... and the year before that and so on, until your hand resembled more bandage than actual skin. You couldn't help it. It was just far too enticing- something so enchanting drawing your attention away from julienning your carrots to instead focus on the way Sanji's taut muscles rippled underneath his shirt as he sautéed. It was as if he had spellbound your eyes so they followed his form around, gladly taking in and making note of the idiosyncrasies you recognised from childhood: the way he still bites his bottom lip when he's really concentrating on stirring, the revulsion on his face as he absentmindedly unscrews a spice jar and takes a sniff, finding it to be oregano.
When you gash across your ring finger and start pooling blood onto the chopping board, though, is when the spell finally breaks and the shouting starts. 'Forth time this week!', he wags his finger at you. 'Forth time this week I've had to bloody throw out good equipment!'
'Was that seriously a pun?', Sanji asks, following on your heel like a swarming shadow as you hobble over to the sink. Zeff bites his tongue as Sanji shakes his head at him: this was an argument they had had far too many times. He had almost, almost resigned himself to the fact that Sanji would, and has, dropped the plates he was carrying to the floor with a resounding crash to run over and care for you. Thankfully, this was the perfect opportunity for Sanji to wrap gauze around your finger, before using an 'old fisherman's tale for healing grievous wounds' by peppering kisses against your knuckle to make you laugh.
Once, you were caught admiring him across your shared work station; the dishes stacking up to be washed were long forgotten as you spent ten minutes absentmindedly running your soapy sponge over the same plate, too busy letting your eyelashes flutter down to watch Sanji's skilful hands work. If you had let your gaze settle for just one more second, you would have seen Sanji raise his eyes to observe your face, lingering far too long on the rising curve of your Cupid's Bow. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop the peach from flushing along his ears as he imagined how it would feel to swipe his tongue against your lips. When your eyes finally lock, the two of you end up so flustered about being caught that you both immediately go running off in different directions for your fifteen minute breaks.
It's not until the late evening, when everything is finally stowed away and only the late party-goers of the ship are still milling about by the bar that Sanji reappears. His head pops around the door like a surprised meerkat, rapping his knuckles against the office door and smiling as you kicked out the velvet stool next to you, beckoning him in. You drop the pen you were fiddling with when he magics the dish he had been working on earlier from behind his back, the heavenly aroma of your favourite childhood dessert overwhelming your senses as he settles next to you.
'I remember that this was your favourite, and-. Well, a sweet treat for a sweet treat, don't you think darling?'
You hum as you take the first bite, dragging the spoon along your bottom lip and throwing your head back in delight. Little did you notice the effect the warm, low vibration and sight of your plush lip dragging spit against the metal had on Sanji. He squirmed in his chair, swallowing thickly as he did his best to straighten his spine and look presentable: not like someone who was finding it harder and harder to hide the tingling feeling burning in his groin at the sight of you. God, just one noise and he was becoming undone.
He nearly cries out when you lean forward, so close he could nuzzle the tip of his nose against yours. God, does he want to. Instead he becomes slack jawed, eyes glazing over with pure want as you use your thumb and pointer finger to grip onto his chin. You tug down, opening his mouth and replacing the space with a fresh spoonful of his sweet dessert. He forgets how to breathe as he watches you glide the spoon out past his locked lips. It's only when you swipe away a little bit of cream left behind on his bottom lip line with your tongue, that he finally jolts. You just giggle, bringing the spoon back to your own mouth and sucking off the remnants of chocolate as Sanji does his best to stop his breath shuddering with soft squeaks.
His heart is about to spill out onto the floor: the trajectory of his life wrapped so firmly around the sweet twilight embrace of your tide that he would find it a pleasure to drown. You were his best friend. The love of his life. And he understands in that moment, with a realisation he could never unlearn, that he would go through every moment that led, every hardship, every bit of pain to get here again. He would do it all, if it meant he ended here with you.
But he only sighs and smiles fondly as you reach up to tuck that damn stubborn curl of hair back behind his ear again.
As soon as he made it back to his room, he slammed the door and fell back against it. With a hand thrown over his face, he groaned inwardly at how oblivious he had been. How much time he had wasted being afraid. But it was okay. He understood now. It had always been you. This. He was made more of you than he was of himself.
The next night, just after your shift, you find him leaning casually against the back door of the Baratie: his legs crossed out in front of him, watching the waves lap up serenely against the docks. His back rests against the shimmer of the bottle-green fish scales, making him seem almost other-worldly as the sun dips over his body. It fades from a warm yellow against his fringe, settling onto a melted honey running over his twirling cigarette, bowing with a crushed violet against his tapping heel.
You two have spent the last thirteen years endlessly circling each other's orbits without the eventual collide, that it didn't take long for you to find him. Tucking yourself against his shoulder, Sanji offers you a smile full of solace: an unspoken acknowledgement that he had been waiting out here for your arrival.
That despite all the hours and hours he had droned on about finding the All Blue, he wanted to be here with you - hell, he wanted to be anywhere with you. Even though he couldn’t find the right words to say it, still so unused to the daunting vehemence of requited love, it showed in the lift of his rose-tinted cheeks. In the flutters of the lines on his forehead. Sanji knew one thing in his life was certain, no matter how his future panned out: he loved you with every fibre of his being.
He grabs at your fingers, gently guiding them up to his lips. Pursing them, he places your fingertips around the mouthpiece and stares over the butt as he takes a final inhale, firm perch stopping you from getting away. As the stream of smoke floods out from the corner of his mouth, he allows you to pluck the cigarette away and toss it into the ocean.
'Y/n, I-', he starts breathlessly, turning his torso so he's giving you his undivided attention. He looks terrified - even more so when you quickly interrupt him by talking over his quivering confession.
'I have something to give back to you.' Your tone is so serious, Sanji's head bucks back in confusion.
'...Well, love. If you stole my apron again, don't sweat it.' He shoves his hands into his pockets, finding his courage draining away as you stare indiscernibly straight at him. 'Zeff has enough in the spare cupboard that we could dress up every Marine in a new uniform-'
'No, I mean- well', you shake your head and look up at the sky. 'I've been meaning to give it back for a long time now, but I guess delivery is pretty slow out in the middle of bloody nowhere', you laugh breathlessly, appreciating the way Sanji's worried eyebrow creases settle at the joke. You swear, golden treasures buried at the bottom of the ocean couldn't gleam as ferociously as Sanji's eyes do as he finally catches onto your meaning, his mouth dropping open.
His breath hitches in his throat, and his chin drops down to his neck in shock as you lean to your right and finally press your pliant lips against his own. Your fingers are quick to spread over his cheek, twirling through his loose curl once again as he falls against you; he almost crushes you with his full weight, but is quick to curve his spine and bow over you, little whimpers following his open mouth.
For a moment, as a thin trail of spit joins your brushing lips, Sanji has no idea how to react. Well, that is until he registers shock ripples delightfully lashing up his spine as you shove him back against the wall, his mouth falling open again in allowance for your tongue to lash in and fill the empty space: to suffocate his whines.
The look on the rest of the cooks' faces as the two of you come stumbling back in is priceless. The two of you really thought you had gotten away with it: if it weren't for the wall being shaken hard enough to rouse a Kraken from its slumber, and the slurred string of French curses and praises stuttering out of Sanji's lips and through the open door, you almost might have.
It's so worth it. Sanji just coughs into his clenched fist, fixing his lopsided tie and doing his best to use the flat edge of his thumb to try and wipe away some of the ruddiness from his swelling bottom lip. But when he slides his fingers in-between yours, a shy smile masked by a playful wink thrown back at you, do you know the two of you won't be able to keep your eyes (or your hands) off each other for the rest of the dining service.
When two of your 'charming' customers have a disagreement over their seating arrangements, you're too busy admiring how Sanji's thighs strain against his pressed trousers to see the trouble coming your way. It's only when one of them comes hurtling towards you and knocks you and your drinks tray ass over kettle that you become enraged. Before Sanji can even reach you to apologise, you've launched the customer off of you with a swift kick, managing to jab Sanji in the abdomen in the process. Doubling over, he falls on his face on top of you. I've got to be honest, neither of you are exactly complaining about your sudden arrangement. Once you've finished giggling and checking each other over, you realise that an inch lower, and short pant of Sanji's heaving breath against your breast and your lips would be brushing together.
The two of you would have turned into a tangled mess of heavy making out right there and then if Zeff hadn't come swinging out of the kitchen to see what all the ruckus was about.
Istg this poor man does his best to give the two of you jobs at opposite ends of the Baratie, only to nearly tug his braided beard out when a customer complains that their service is slow because, *surprise surprise*, the two of you are slacking off together. Either you're making heart eyes at him during as you wait in the main dining area, using any opportunity to grip onto the meat of his waist and slide past him with a poor excuse about 'needing to get clean menus' and making him shiver with a fresh rush of goose bumps, or he's finding you. Even when you were confined to working behind the bar, Sanji still manages to convince the other cooks that he so desperately needs the new delivery of brandy for his new profiterole recipe. Of course, he only does it so when he's on his knees lifting out the boxes, he can leave you a gasping, flustering mess. With clenched hands sending curls of shredded wood down on top of his hair, Sanji just presses his knees forward and pays no notice. He's too busy gliding his hands underneath your shirt, splaying them across your your back as he shoves his nose into your stomach. Although he's careful to stay hidden from the customers, he adores the sound of your clenched whines too much to stop himself. He rolls up the hem, ravishing you with a wet trail of kisses over the band of your trousers; his tongue runs welts over your skin as his teeth suck underneath your bellybutton, his left hand snaking down to rest on your leg so he can grip his thumb against the inner seam of your thigh.
It's only when the pad of his pointer finger presses a little too close to your clothed groin and you spill a drink over a customer that you both stop.
Once the two of you join Luffy's crew, you and Zoro seem to be the perfect team to drive Zoro up the wall. He likes you just fine, but you and waiter together being all lovey dovey makes him want to jump head first overboard.
What makes it even better is the fact that during the attack on Coco Village, you were too busy being proud of Sanji on his spectacular form and fighting technique that you and Zeff had spent years teaching him, that you don't notice one of the Fish-Men grabbing your collar. Before you can even gasp, you've been punched straight across the water and have knocked Zoro and three of the guys he was fighting down like a speeding bowling ball.
From then on, Zoro sleeps in the Crow's Perch and nowhere else. If he's not being knocked down, he's being left wincing as he trains with bruises gained from your elbow jabbed into his back. It's not your fault if you sneak in to cuddle in Sanji's hammock every night, and Zoro's face just happens to be inches away from yours. Sanji still has nightmares of your shipwrecked days from time to time, and just the pressure of your hand against his arm is enough to rouse him from whatever oblivion he was beginning to sink into. A warmth immediately spills through him as the two of you spend most of the night talking, reminiscing, sharing secret smiles between lingering kisses that leave the two of you giddy.
You're always up before him, letting him sleep in for as long as you can with a final, lingering kiss to his tense forehead. You wait for him in the kitchen, a warm cup of tea cupped between your hands, and a second one waiting for him on the counter as he sleepily wanders in to start breakfast preparations. It's become a comforting routine: you placing your head on your hand and talking idly as you admire him, keeping him company.
He knows, though. He knows what you're really waiting for. He happily obliges once the eggs have begun to sizzle, coming to rest on the bench in front of you. He grabs onto your back, pulling you onto his lap until you were straddling his waist. With languid blinks, he leaves soft kisses against the edge of your mouth as you grind against him, delighting in the hoarse groan that bobs his Adam's Apple. You tug the hair at the nape of his neck before scraping your nails over the skin apologetically, but what other way were you going to get him to open his mouth for you? Besides, the jumbled rush of French words that leave his mouth in a pealing string as you slide your tongue over his pulse point is the most heavenly sound in the world.
You're only disturbed by the sound of Luffy's yawn. For a moment, he just scratches the back of his neck and looks between the two of you curiously.
'Y/n, how come only Sanji gets a good morning hug! Can I have one too!'
'No!'
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love-toxin · 1 year
Note
i dunno if you care about my gushing about leon being infected but.
god the remake made it so much hotter and i don’t see anyone talk about it and i don’t know how they don’t! i personally can’t stop thinking about it and i need infected/normal leon carnally.
:) my time to revive plagas leon has come.
(cws: gn! reader, plagas!leon + a lil yandere, post-canon divergence, needles, drugging, nc groping/kissing under the influence, leon has dirty thoughts, biting, blood, reader gets tied up)
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Normal Leon is flirty, playful, maybe a little bit saucy at times if the mood is right. Plagas!Leon is a complete and utter menace, and possibly the most perverse thing you've ever encountered.
At the very least, he's not a complete puppet for Saddler's machinations. He has moments of clarity here and there, but they make way for a deep, unconscionable shift in personality when his mind finally accepts that his body is no longer the same. It's difficult to deal with, you can imagine--or you could, if Leon wasn't relentlessly tracking you down and hellbent on not letting you leave the village.
Could he try to talk to you? He could, if you would listen. But every time he faces you with those piercing carmine eyes, you start backing away, and that pretty face twists in fear and disgust at what he's become. Every time you shoot at him, you try to reconcile it as putting down the monster in him and not putting down Leon. But your sweet, gentle conscience can't accept that there's no difference anymore. This is all him, good, bad, and ugly.
Oh, but you're still so cute. You're so mad at him for the way he is, you throw things at him and grab Ashley's wrist to hurry her away when he comes walking up. He was angry when you managed to slip out of his grasp despite feeling that urge to kill you rising, but when Saddler was finally taken out, Leon felt his free will return and realized he had the chance to make his own fate.
And that's why he's waited. He waited day, after day, after day for you, having had to watch you leave with Ashley and Luis in tow and replaying that scene in his mind a thousand times over. The island is gone now, but the rest of the area needs tending to. He spends his lonely days ridding the castle of pests, disposing of bodies, clearing the village away and getting rid of any remnants of Los Iluminados. They don't belong here anymore because they couldn't leave anyways, and since he can't either, he has to cull the ones who might get in the way of your arrival.
Because he knows you. He knows you're certain of his abilities, but even if there was a shadow of doubt about his survival, you won't be sleeping well wondering whether Leon is still alive. If he can be saved, or if he just needs to be put down properly. He doesn't much care where your reasoning lies, so long as you do what he's sure you will and return to the village to find closure.
It barely takes any time at all--in less than a month, you're standing at the edge of the village by a newly-repaired bridge, a local police car parked anxiously by the entrance for fear of what lies ahead. You've got your gun, a map scribbled out from memory, and his jacket over your shoulders. Adorable. You missed him.
There's really nothing to fear, but he won't let you get much further than that village. There are a few Ganados stationed there as plants to relay information to him, but aside from feeding your fury as you take them out they really don't serve much purpose. Leon can feel you here, your feet hitting the ground as you run and the breath burning your lungs as you hurry away from the mob, booking it straight for the castle gate.
How sweet of you to visit him at home. He can't help but stalk you for a bit, watching you wander about the immense palace and search for clues, flip through his notes and break down into tears when you realize he's still alive. You have so much hope, and it's all stored in that little bottle of pills and a needle filled with sedative.
It all falls away when you neglect to notice the latter missing from your belt, only to thrash and scratch wildly at his arm when he comes up from behind to restrain you. A little pinch in the neck, a choked up sigh, and you collapse so limply in his arms like a doll.
Oh, he missed you. It's so much easier to kiss you when you're unconscious, you don't run away or shove him or shout at him that he's a monster. He wants to kiss you in other places, but...not now. He can be gentle and intimate with you like that later. You barely even flinch, you don't even kick at him when he gropes your thigh and brings his mouth to it to bite down. You taste so sweet, he just wanted a bit of your blood to satisfy the craving--he won't make it a habit, that is unless it ends up turning you on when he does it in bed like he's planning to.
And he is planning. You have a future together but it doesn't include anyone else--he's been given an escape from that depressing life he never wanted, but he's not finding a new one without you, the only good thing he's got in this world. Even if he's got to tie you up so you don't attack him the moment you wake from your stupor.
"Let me go! I'll kill you!"
You don't mean that, sweet thing. You're just tired, and scared, and you missed him. That's why you came back--not a force on earth could've made him revisit the site of Raccoon City after what happened there, but you came all the way back and threw yourself into danger for him, even knowing all that you know. The rest of this ugly world isn't worthy of you.
"I'll fucking shoot your brains out for taking him away from me!"
So feisty and cute. Is he really the one that's obsessed? Because watching you cry in desperation and struggle against your bindings is pretty telling, especially since you stop the moment his cool hand touches your chin. You know what he is, and yet you still look up at him like he's the same he always was.
"L-Leon, if you're still in there, I can get you out. There's a facility in Arklay that agreed to help--you can come home!"
It's a shame you're so hopeful. You even grace him with a relieved smile when he backs off, his brow softened at the sight of you practically begging for him. But it's in that darling, naïve way that shows you have no idea you're already being dragged down with him. And you'll only see that once his hand hovers over your lap, and he gently peels back the jagged fabric you thought might've ripped on your way over a fence, or maybe in one of the many struggles against the villagers for your life.
But you understand, he thinks you do, when you finally follow his eyes and peer down at the exposed skin. The bite mark still glistens with blood and saliva from where he sucked hungrily at the wound, but webbing out beneath your skin around the site are thin, black trails that move along your flesh like veins. And they grow as the seconds pass, spreading out deeper within your body as the infection begins its process.
You look up at him so frightened, and yet so angry, that he can't help but kiss you then. You don't have unbound arms to beat at his chest, or breath in your lungs to scream or cry at him for what he's done to you. His tongue swallows all those muffled curses up, sliding wetly between your lips to taste that effervescent warmth he knows you won't lose in your transformation. You're simply too radiant to become as cold as he is, although he's sure it'll add an exciting thrill to the sensations you'll share when you let those locked desires of yours flood out of you. Who knows, you might get so enthusiastic about your newfound power that you don't let him leave the bedroom for days--Leon would certainly welcome that after all this wretched time apart.
"Just get some rest, sweetheart." He whispers barely a hair's length from your mouth, tongue flicking out to trace your bottom lip and indulge in a delightful shiver up your body. "Let Las Plagas give you strength, and I'll show you how to handle the power. And...welcome home, darling."
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catcze · 7 months
Note
HII ITS THE ANON WHO SAID WRIO IS LIKE FLYNN RIDER LMAOO I SUPPORT ALL BRAINROT RELATING TO THIEF WRIO 🤭🤭 i think him and a sheltered royal reader would be very like. reader falls first wrio falls harder LMAO— u got me thinking about it now what can I do 💔
HI BABYY WELCOME BACK ♡♡
Thanks for supporting my brainrot LMAOOO it literally started bc of u HAHAA /pos
Now let me get u thinking about it more 👀👀👀👀👀👀
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In a Fantasy AU vaguely inspired by tangled (I say vaguely bc it's got some elements, but not all of them yk?) Wriothesley is a master thief, who always snags whatever he sets his mind on. You, on the other hand, are the only child of the king and queen, and the sole heir to the throne. You're kept strictly within the castle and forbidden from leaving since you had been kidnapped once as a child, and your parents fear that happening to you again. You used to despise it, being locked up, but over the years you've grown to accept it (not necessarily like it, you've just stopped trying to escape the castle every so often.)
Now, Wriothesley plans to steal your crown, the heir's crown to the kingdom, as his biggest heist yet. So he sneaks past the guards one night, gets into the palace and even manages to sneak up to your room. He's so close— so close!— to getting his hands on the heir's crown, but there's one thing that he overlooks. Because no one in the kingdom has seen you, and information on you is so limited, there's no way for him to have known that you possess a dendro vision. So taking him by surprise, you manage to knock him out and tie him up in vines and flowers. When he wakes up, you manage to broker a deal with him: He wants your crown, right? Well, you have no use for the thing. Not really. To you, it's just a reminder that you're destined to be trapped and lonely for the rest of your life. So you'll give it to him— on the condition that he takes you to see the lantern rite festival in the nearby kingdom of Liyue.
And though its far, though his pride stings at being caught by some recluse of a royal, what choice does he really have? Refuse, and be caught by the guards? Not a chance. So he agrees to your terms and sneaks you out of the tower and leads you into town, where you see the world for the first time.
From there, it's a whole journey navigating from Fontaine to Liyue with you— but you get there just in the nick of time for the lantern rite to start. He brings you around, lets you sample food with glittering eyes, lets you buy fabrics and nicknacks, and pays with his own money. Wriothesley even manages to rent out a quaint pagoda with a balcony, where you can watch the festivities and the lanterns glow across the harbour. There, he basks along the railing with you, eating skewers and fried rice, letting the music and cheer put him at ease. As he talks to you, listens to you ramble on and on about how beautiful the place is and how you'd love to come back one day, Wriothesley finds that he no longer cares about getting his hands on that crown. All he cares about now is the flush on his face and the realization that somewhere, across the way from Fontaine to Liyue, you had managed to steal his heart.
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xyouami · 4 months
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hi! i wanted to ask if you can do a Scaramouche × female reader when scara finds the reader self harming/trying to suicide. Thank youu! <3
YES YES OFCC!!!! IDK HOW LONG THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX, AND FORGIVE ME IF I HAVENT SEEN THIS FOR A WHILE.. 😭😭😭
Who knows, maybe I'll add a lil twist to the end for suspension... 😈😈 /hj
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"You're an idiot, you know that?"
★ SYNOPSIS : He caught you trying to do it. Who knows what his heartless mind will do?
THEMES/WARNINGS : Suicide, SH, dark topics, some of it is in first person, you've already dated someone, u r 7th fatui harbinger, anything you can think of as bad..
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Everyday,
Every night,
Every week,
Every month,
Every.
Day.
Fatui meetings, missions, every minute it's so frustrating.
Every day, is just the same. Nothing changes. But the only thing changes, is my motivation.
All I just wanted was for someone to notice my hard work, at least just a single praise can bring up my hopes.
Overworked, tiring and restless days, food just tastes bitter. After I joined the fatui for personal purposes, my partner left me. They said, "I wouldn't want to date someone who'd work for the devil."
Not that I was doing it for her.
As the 7th fatui harbinger, what could ever go wrong? I mean, treated with some care by the other harbingers isn't bad at all. Columbina is the kindest one of them all, yet terrifying. Arlecchino is barely here but when she is here, she treats everyone to a meal. How could everyone have a kind heart of their own?
Dottore is very foolish despite his rank. Pulcinella takes care of Tartaglia's family which is very kind. Pierro is actually gentle despite his cold and harsh demeanor. Sandrone gave me a small doll of a flower, to always make me remember that summer will always be with me wherever I go. Pantalone once broke a valuable vase, but he fixed it on his own when he had the time. He told no one but me.
Tartaglia always checks up on the Fatui harbingers. He seem outgoing and cheerful most of the time, but when he's alone, he's so quiet and dense. Captiano is scary, but can also protect us. Scaramouche isn't here often, but hes not a trouble to bother. He sometimes comes to talk to me to rant or just come to bother my company. Signora was the closest to me. She's strict yet I sometimes catch her playing with the children at the House of Hearth. Ever since her death, I felt... quite lonely. But I've accepted it.
How can everyone be so busy and kind of their own?
And I'm just a rotting body.
I envy them.
"Comrade! What are you doing just wasting time away like this?" You turned your head immediately to the familiar voice, to see a ginger colored head with a beaming smile, but void like eyes.
"Oh, um.. I'm.." You looked back at the table to see a desk full of unfinished and uninteresting papers. You game to the main hall to work on paperwork. Only to realize you've zoned out and gotten no progress.
"Let me help you." He immediately scooped up a pile of papers, some of them fell but he lifted his foot to catch one drifting to the ground.
"How long have you been here? You okay, Comrade?" Childe gave you a friendly smile, the dim moonlight coming from the large windows only casted a small glimmer in his eyes.
"I uh... I don't—"
"Don't worry about it! I'll come back to you once I've finished, but you owe me a meal!" Childe left as he threw the paper on his foot back into his tall pile of papers and walked off.
"W-wait! Tartaglia!—" You stood up from your seat to turn around and stop him. To only be met with an empty and dark hallway, only being lit by the moonlight from the windows.
"I..." nothing but mutters came out of your mouth.
"How can I be so pathetic?" A quiet voice came from you. Only to sit back in your seat to see no papers. Columbina was suddenly there. It was normal for her to appear out of thin air around the Zapolyarny Palace.
"It seemed like you had some trouble, I'll do the rest of the papers." She was holding all of the papers somehow, and you felt nothing but guilty.
"You really don't. It's my work.." you muttered slowly.
"Fatui harbingers may work independently, but some cases, we're all family." She replied. She didn't open her eyes once, but that's just how she sees..
"I'll—"
"You don't have to pay me back, otherwise people will have other useless debts to pay." She turned around and vanished. Not to be seen in or within the wind.
"I just.." All of the 8 years of working and working up and up to only end in this rank feels terrible.
Am I really that useless?
"Y/n." A quiet but loud voice came behind them.
You jumped a little from the sudden small shout, but you looked behind you to see a mysterious figure with a big hat.
"Ah, um. Scaramouche." You quietly said.
"Is my name really that hard to forget?" Scaramouche clicked his tongue then approached you. His figure slightly got taller as he approached.
"I'm sorry."
"Anyway, what're you doing? Shouldn't a mortal like you be in the dormitories?" Scaramouche looked down at you if you were a bug. Even though you were only one rank behind him..
"Oh, I forgot." You mutter. He sighed and gave a small flick to your forehead. You wouldn't really count as him as your friend, but he talks to you more than the other harbingers.
"Humans are so forgetful.." He mumbled.
"Sorry.." You blandly said.
"Stop saying sorry over everything."
"Huh?"
"When was the last time you said sorry?"
"When I... said your name."
"Is that something to be sorry for?"
"I.. um."
"Just go to your dorm. Captiano has something assigned to you tomorrow. Get rest." Scaramouche brushed past you and hushed along to his own way.
"Im.. sorry." A quiet mutter came out of you.
You walked to your dorm only thinking about that moment and past times. You remembered Tartaglia and Scaramouche came to save you in battle against a few hillichurls after you were injured. You couldn't help but cry after that night because you weren't even powerful enough, even though being the 7th fatui harbinger.
Why do I say sorry all the time? Why am I so useless? I'm just only here like a doll for showcase. Why is everything the same? Why am I so weak? Why can I even defend myself? Why...
As soon as you opened the door, you threw off your jacket and didn't even bother to switch out of your clothes. Just flopped in bed and huddled in a ball. Silent and quiet tears fell.
You've never told anyone your problems. No one.
My problems are useless. So what's the point of telling someone them?
You're now standing at a cliff no where near Zapolyarny Palace.
The cold air just felt bitter against your skin.
The pretty lights of the northern lights and stats glimmered. They lit up the whole place..
If only the last time you'll see them is today,
That's okay.
The lights are so pretty.
If only when I was a child, I would be able to jump in joy.
8 years of suffering and loss will be over soon.
I promise you,
It will end today.
I wish my tears would've been spent on something else,
But these lights are so pretty.
I wish..
That maybe someone...
Will love me just as much...
The height of the cliff wasn't scary. But it was a long way down to the cold sea.
The sea reflected the pretty skies.
"So cold.."
To only feel the pressure of wind dropping down.
Im falling.
You're falling.
"Ah!—"
a cold but sudden embrace was there.
A tight grip around your waist was found.
"You're an idiot!"
You looked behind you to see a dark indigo haired figure holding you tightly.
"Do you go so far out by killing yourself because you didn't want things to go out like this!?" He shouted at you.
"Your idiotic mind is killing me!" Scaramouche plunged back before setting himself in front of you. He drapped his jacket over your shoulders.
"Do you plan on being so stupid and killing yourself!? Do you even know how long it took me to find you only to come to you almost dying? Is death your only wish!?" Scaramouche scolded you and shouted at you. His raised voice people could possibly hear from a 5 mile radius. The rest of his shouting blurred in your ears.
But he suddenly paused in his words.
"Why are you crying?"
"Huh?"
"Stop crying." Scaramouche said. Although his voice sounded harsh, his tone was soft.
Soft little streams of rivers were coming out of your eyes, and you didn't even notice.
"I said stop crying."
"I don't..." He paused.
"Wanna see you cry."
"Again."
You just sat in the snow, buried in his large jacket staring at him.
"Wha—"
"You're coming with me." Scaramouche gripped onto your arm and pulled you up without an effort.
"Scara—"
"I said you're coming with me."
Next morning was all a blur.
You were in your bed, how?
You remembered you were outside.
You could've swore you...
Whatever,
Today, the sun was out. The sun isn't usually out during winters like these.
You went to the small kitchen in the dormitory to cook something.
You opened the knife cabinet... only to find no knifves. So you decided to skip breakfast, not that you really had breakfast anyway.
During that whole day, Scaramouche sat next to you without a word. He's usually never at meetings. And today he's always somehow near you...
Talking to Columbina? He's right behind you.
Finishing a task Tartaglia gave you? He's right there.
Hes like a stalker..
It was until a few hours later, you went to do something.. a little dangerous.
You picked up a sharp object until it was immediately grabbed away. You looked to your side to see Scaramouche standing there with the sharp object.
"You've been following me all day. What's wrong?" You immediately said.
"You're stupid."
"What?"
"You already know the answer."
"Huh?.."
"Shoo. I'm taking this away."
"But I need it to give it to captiano—"
"I'll do it." He then walked away.
For some reason,
Your mind told you that...
Maybe he didn't want you to get hurt.
You then turned around to go back,
To only see a shining cryo vision on the table from where you picked up the sharp object.
"Visions are granted by powerful wishes." You once heard someone say long long before.
I wish that someone will love me as much as someone used to in the past.
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@xyouami 12/21/23 8:32 pm.
298 notes · View notes
rosie-zia · 8 months
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Luxiem Drabbles
Scenario: Luxiem's significant other turned into Luxiem’s own fan mascots. Word Count: 3.3k+ all in all Genre: Fluff, comedy, & comfort. Note: I apologize in advance if the Luxiem boys are a bit OOC. I tried my best, and I hope you enjoy!
Vox Akuma:
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Around the palace of the voice demon, you wandered the great long corridors, admiring every single detail and structure of the castle. As you walked in the halls, you would check each of the rooms to see if everything was in order before Vox Akuma returns home.
By the end of the hall was a door that you have never seen before. Curiosity has drawn you into the room. When you opened the door, it was an isolated room. You only saw some things that might have belonged to Vox. An album, a samurai sword, and other trinkets that you could possibly find. You felt like you were crossing Vox's privacy, so you tried to leave the room quickly.
However, you heard a small voice enter your mind. You turned around and no one was there. You looked around again just to make sure no one is in the same room as you, but you noticed red mist surrounding you. You looked for the source of this mysterious smoke, and the mist comes from the shiny Oni mask displayed on the left side of the room. Inhaling the smoke made you draw closer to the mask. There was no holding back anymore as you touched the mask before you fell unconscious.
A few moments later, you wake up in a random room and see Vox's trusted assistant, Oni Giri, trying to wake you up. Oni Giri explained about what happened to you, and how you passed out all of the sudden from the curse of the mask. Now, you turned into a biblically accurate fallen angel with eight dark wings, a huge eye, a pair of black horns with horizontal golden lines, white hair, and extra two white wings. Your new transformation made you look like one of his Kindreds. At first, you weren't able to process it properly, but when it did, it hit like a truck and made you panic. You worry about Vox's reaction.
It didn't take long before Vox arrived hurriedly in the scene, as it was right for you to worry because he tries to hold you like a plushie and examines you for any wounds.
"Darling, who did this to you? I swore if I ever find this person, I would absolutely hunt them down!"
Before things could even get dirty, Oni Giri explained the whole situation which calmed him down, but still wary about how you are feeling at the moment. Once you two are alone, Vox holds you in the most gentle way possible.
"It's alright now, my beloved, I'm here now. Let me take care of you like how I take care of my other Kindreds."
Soon enough, he leads you to a room filled with lots of friendly Kindreds and also locks the cursed room to keep you safe from the curse hitting you again.
Kindreds take one of the unique form as they appear like biblically accurate fallen angels. Their form can spook or scare someone, but Kindreds are sweet creatures. Kindreds are known as one of the most loyal species to their owner as they were drawn to the demon's sophisticated and alluring voice. At first, Kindred thinks very highly of their owner due to his elegance and his royal-like demeanor. Now, they still look up to him but in a different way that they got to see his true self free from expectations. Also, Kindred would work hard in helping whatever they can to do to show their gratitude to Vox. Whether someone is a Kindred or not, no one can resist the demon's charms and wit, so they will always fly back into his arms.
Luca Kaneshiro:
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In the four corners of the manor, you waited for your boyfriend and mafia boss to come home from an important mission. It was getting too lonely whenever he had an errand to take care of in the mafia, so you had to find new ways to entertain yourself for the time being when he's gone.
This time, you were drinking some tea in your bedroom with Luca's lion cub, Augustus, idling away and enjoying the peace you have to yourself. The tea you were drinking was a gift from Shu since you want to try and explore different tea blends. Halfway through drinking the tea, you were getting a bit dizzy, and Augustus noticed it. He kept nudging you, but you assured him that you were fine. You don't know if it's from the tea or just from the times you spent with so much passion with Luca on the bed, but you can't keep your eyes anymore that you ended up passing out on the bed.
You woke up feeling normal but still groggy, trying to recall what happened before you passed out. You looked at the time and it's five in the evening. You feel like it's still too early for Luca to come home, so you will be expecting him sooner or later. Augustus saw you were awake and kept licking your face.
"mmm... Augustus, you know I'm sleeping. You can wait for Luca to come home and play with you."
Usually, you would get up from the bathroom and wash up after your nap, but something doesn't feel right when everything in your vision looks a bit bigger. You didn't feel like going to the bathroom this time, so you reached out to your pocket mirror by your nightstand and saw you turned into a small lion cub like Augustus.
"Wait- Augustus, what happened?! Why am I small and I look like you?"
You examined your features before reaching out to your phone and contacting your boyfriend. Although you know he's on the mission, it won't hurt to call him in the middle of his work, right? Surprisingly, he picked it up immediately.
"Oh, hey, babe. What's up?"
"Sorry for bothering you, Luca, but can you come home a bit earlier?”
“Oh yeah, I’m already on my way home, Y/N. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Alright, see you soon.”
You hung up as you slouched on the bed. While waiting for Luca, you played with Augustus. After exactly ten minutes, Luca barged into your room feeling a bit upbeat.
“Baby, I’m home! You sounded like you were panicking through our phone call. Are you alright?”
He expected to meet his partner on the bed, but he was surprised to see that his lover, you, turned into a Lucub. The young mafia boss may look amused about your transformation, but don’t let his expressions fool you because he’s clenching his fist.
“Alright, who did this to you? I just want to talk-”
“NONONO, it’s alright, maybe it’s temporary.”
Before you could explain yourself, Luca was already calling his friend, Shu, to ask him what to do in this situation you are in. He eventually hung up after talking to the sorcerer.
“Shu said you’ll be back in your own physical form tomorrow. Don’t worry too much, okay? It’s not good for you.”
As much as you were worried about how you will turn back to your normal self, you can’t help but listen to Luca. All your thoughts disappeared as you felt your man’s hand petting you.
“You look so adorable, and you really are fit to be a Lucub.”
You laughed at what Luca said and his bright smile made your worries fade away.
“Well… I’m your biggest fan.”
“Haha, Pog!”
From there, you and Luca played games and talked all day together along with Augustus by your side. It’s always nice to be with your number one himbo.
Lucubs are similar to lion cubs and the spitting image of Augustus. Additionally, Lucubs took an oath to work as bodyguards under the Kaneshiro mafia. They tend to be very huggable and lovable towards their owner as they really cherish him to the point they would kill everyone in the room and then themselves. Their owner may describe himself as the “mean and evil” mafia boss, but they try to prove him wrong and call him a “himbo.” Whether one is a Lucub or not, one will always ask if they are now facing the sun due to how bright his smile and personality is.
Ike Eveland:
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It was an ordinary day as you cleaned out your boyfriend’s streaming room. Ike was out for the day to buy some groceries for the two of you, so you wanted to return the favor by cleaning his room. You were simply dusting his novels when suddenly a book fell off the shelf. It was an odd-looking book with an ancient design. You decided to open it, and the book glowed which then blinded your sight of vision.
After a while, you opened your eyes, and everything around you turned big from your perspective. You looked into your reflection on the marble floor and suddenly, you turned into a huge white ball of fluff with a blue feather on top. You were panicking, but you even panicked more when you heard yourself only saying small squeals and soft noises. After a small breakdown, you decided to wait for Ike to return home.
A few moments later, Ike returned a bit frustrated from driving to your shared home; however, his road rage somehow disappeared when he saw a huge white ball of fluff with a huge blue feather sticking out on top of it. The novelist pauses on his tracks and tries to have a double take if he is seeing things correctly and not just being delusional. Knowing that you cannot explain things by words, you picked up a pen and a paper to describe what happened.
“So you’re saying that you turned like this by a book from my shelf?”
You nodded apologetically while Ike picked up the same ancient book that turned you into a Quilldren. He scanned the book and then placeed it back on the shelf.
“Ah, this must belong to Shu. It says here the spell will just last for the whole day. Tomorrow, you’ll return to your own self in no time. Don’t worry too much, okay?”
As much as you wanted to speak with words, you let out sad noises and looked down on the ground. Ike sensed how you felt bad for troubling him, but it’s no trouble for him at all. He wanted you to at least cheer up, so he sat on his gaming chair and patted his lap, inviting you.
“I’ll be having my Zatsu stream today. Would you like to sit on my lap, älskling?”
Hearing those words from him made you so happy that your feather perked up in excitement. You made your way to his lap, and it felt like heaven. Ike started streaming and talked with chat about his usual day and some random topics to throw at. From time to time, your boyfriend will give you head pats and head rubs to assure you he’s there to hold you secure and safe.
The highlight of Ike’s chatting stream was when chat starting to ask for “lap rights” and he gave in after some persuasion from you and other Quilldrens. When his stream ended, Ike laughed and patted you once more.
“You and the Quilldren are a feisty bunch aren’t you? Hehe, never change, my älskling"
Quilldren come in various sizes, but they appear like fluffy cotton balls with a blue feather on top. Mostly, Quilldren can convey their feelings through their feathers similarly to a dog’s tail. These cotton balls may be endearing and sweet but won’t hesitate to bite back to their owner. Despite their different behaviors, they will unite as one to demand “lap rights” from their owner until they get what they want.
Shu Yamino:
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You and Shu live together in the comfort of your shared home just chilling in each other’s presence, and you two will always help out each other. One day, he asked for your help. You were planning to do something else, but you were persuaded by your boyfriend and had to bribe you with extra food which led you in helping him with his chores.
Currently, you two are sorting out his spell books that he keeps in the basement. Most of them are collecting dust for being there for too long, so you tried your best to clean them.
"Is it really safe to keep them here? How about you just keep these books in your room?"
"I think it's safe enough as long as I don't chant or activate any spells from the books, and I can't put my spell books in my room because it doesn't fit anymore in there."
Shu smiles while you roll your eyes at the sly sorcerer. You both then get back to work, and you've finished cleaning Shu's bookshelf of spells.
"Alright! We're finally done. Now, where's the food that you promised?"
"Yeah yeah, I'll order the food you want. Just tell me what you want, and I'll order it for you."
As you two left the basement, your foot hit something from the ground and it's a thick book.
"Hmm? I think we might have missed this one. Hold on, I'll just put this back on the shelf."
"WAIT, Y/N, DON'T-"
Before you could even react, there was a glowing and blinding light inside of the basement like your whole life was flashing in your very eyes. You close your eyes for a moment, and then open it. Everything was blurry at first, but it was all clear when you looked in the mirror and you became... a banana?
"AHHHH SHU, WHY DID I BECOME A BANANA?!"
Shu also opened his eyes and saw your sudden transformation. He was silent at first, trying to process the current events unfolding before laughing so hard.
"Eyyyyy, you're a Yaminion now!"
"SHUUU!"
"Don't worry, don't worry! The effects are just temporary, you'll be just fine."
Throughout the whole day, Shu tried to compensate for what happened with a lot of your favorite comfort foods and lots of pampering. Your boyfriend does tease you from time to time though, but you don't mind as long as he keeps paying you back with food.
Yaminions take the form of bananas with stick-like arms and legs, occasionally wearing sunglasses to represent their swag. Unlike Quilldren, Yaminions are on the cooler side of things like their owner. Though they are chill, they don't experience much "fanservice." They go through means in order for their owner to give them some crumbs of affection to go throughout their day. If ever their owner would give a once in a lifetime pick-up lines, who knows what would happen to the hearts of the Yaminions.
Mysta Rias
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At present, you are in Mysta’s apartment because he called you to come over. When you arrived, you saw a small note and it was written by your boyfriend, saying he had to leave urgently because of a serious investigation. At the back of his note, he added something and asked a favor to you to look out for his pets “Mystakes.” You sighed, concerned how hard he’s working, but that’s one of the reasons why you fell for him. You opened the door to Mysta’s apartment with one of his spare keys that he gave you.
Once you entered in, all of his Mystakes pounced on you. You almost tripped, but you were able to balance yourself.
“Hey, guys! Hehe, it’s nice to see you all again! Did you miss me?”
The foxes nodded happily as they helped clean Mysta’s room. Looking around at his apartment, there were boxes and some luggage lying around. You were wondering why they were packing Mysta's stuff until you remembered he was moving out to another city. As you watch them pack his things, you can't help but notice how sad they look, so you try your best to cheer them up.
"Awww, don't be sad. It's going to be alright, guys. I know you will miss him, but he says how much he loves you all. Wherever he goes, he'll always carry his Mystakes in his heart."
Some of his foxes are crying while the others are happy for him, but they just want the best for him at the end of the day. You let them process their emotions first before speaking up to give your idea.
"There are still a few days left before Mysta moves out, so better make the most of it with him and just have a blast!"
The small foxes looked at each other before looking back at you mischievously, certainly planning something in mind. This made you a bit nervous when you saw how the Mystakes kept approaching you until they threw themselves and piled on top of you.
"h-huh? w-what are you doing, guys? HEY WAIT-"
Those were the last words you uttered before chaos struck because somehow, you are now in the same physical form as them.
"I'm a Mystake?! How is this possible? Please change me back!"
Mysta's sly pets looked at you feeling proud of their work. It seems that they don't have any plans in changing you back to your original form, so you texted Mysta to just come home ASAP without telling him any details.
This led your boyfriend to get frantic when he read your message. After a while, Mysta finally returns home with a concerned expression on his face. He thought something serious had happened to you, so he ran home as fast as he could. The detective barged in the room and kept screaming your name.
"*huff* *pant* *pant* BABE?! Where are you? I tried to come home as fast as I could after receiving your text. Answer me!"
Looking now at the events before him, his face turned into a blank expression as soon as he understood the situation.
"Ah! Mysta! Thank goodness you are here. I became one of your foxes. Help me change back!"
"Ayo, they changed you into a Mystake, huh? Not surprising though since they can really pull tricks out of their sleeves."
"Will I be like this for a long time?"
"Nah, It will just last for a day. You'll be fine, trust me. I was turned into one of them, and it's not that bad."
You give him a suspicious look before trusting him and letting your boyfriend take care of you. You two, along with the Mystakes, ended up playing some games, chilling, and enjoying each other's company. It was just a usual day for Mysta streaming, but the smallest and simplest things count as precious memories.
After a day of gaming, Mysta ended the livestream and helped you prepare for bed. Even being in a form of a fox right now, Mysta didn't mind snuggling into you for the night. You two then eventually fell asleep in each other's arms.
In the morning, Mysta opened his eyes as he felt the morning light hit his eyes. When his eyes were fully opened, he saw now how you finally turned into your original human form. As much as Mysta wants to wake you up to tell you that, he held himself back to look at your peaceful figure.
Your boyfriend brushed away any strands blocking your face while whispering the words he has been keeping to himself for a long time.
"You may be one of my Mystakes, but I never made a big mistake in loving you."
Mystakes are sly and mischievous foxes who tease and joke around their detective, but their behavior represents as a sign of affection towards their beloved owner. Foxes are known to form strong bonds with their owner or to their loved ones, and Mystakes show how loyal they can be to their owner. They don't hesitate to tell their owner how comfortable they are around him until his final moments. From the start until the beginning of the end, Mystakes stood up as strong ones, wanting for their owner to be happy and live his life to the fullest.
Fin.
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A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for reading my work and for your support >_< Sorry I took so long. This is dedicated to the boys of Luxiem, especially to our beloved detective Mysta Rias. He taught me to stay strong and keep smiling in times of hardships and difficulties. He became a part of my life that I will never forget. Mysta, wherever you are, I hope you are living the best life. I will always pray for you and your safety as you solve the next case. Good luck on your work, detective! Spread the love!
366 notes · View notes
healmydesires · 1 year
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enchanted (s.h) - teaser
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❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: prince!steve harrington x fem!servant reader
❥ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “You’ve been in love with the prince for god knows how long. For the longest time you were content with admiring him from afar, knowing your adoration for your favourite prince could never be revealed. Until one day, everything changed.” royal!au. childhood best friends to lovers. fools/idiots to lovers. forbidden romance.
❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3,5k so far (it’s gonna be a big BOI)
⟶ A/N: I know for a fact that this will be a big fic. I have so many ideas that it’s driving me insane and I have to have this finished!!! NOW!!! anyways pls anticipate this fic with me 🫶
let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list or if you wanna ramble in my inbox about this with me! <3
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You had worked at the palace of the kingdom Pagrarus for as long as you could remember. You knew every nook and cranny—every secret passage and hidden room in that palace. It was practically your home. You took care of it, making sure that it was clean and pretty every day. Your childhood wish was to work for the royal family, just like your parents did. Your family had served the royal family as maids and whatnot for generations, so it only made sense that you grew up around them, and subsequently, their child.
Steve Harrington.
You don’t regret it. Working for royalty.
In fact, if anything, you’re grateful. Because if not for your position now, how could have you crossed paths with a soul like him?
You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.
Such a sweet sweet day it was. The memory is still fresh in your mind, like the scent of your childhood room. A scent you never quite forgot. It faded over time, sure. But if you strained your memory even now, you can still smell it. The scent of comfort.
Decidedly, there have been many days in your life. Some happy, some sad. Some you remember better than others while others fade away into the back of your mind. Some are ingrained so deep in your mind that when you close your eyes, you can see every detail as if it’s currently happening. None, however, do you remember more clearly than the day you met Steve. It had been almost two decades ago; when you were five, and he was six.
You remember being nervous - your parents had brought you along to the castle, to introduce you to the royal family - you used to be a very lonely child, not being able to make friends easily. You were in awe as you walked through the luxurious castle with wide eyes, seeing it for the first time, it was truly a beautiful place.
As a reward for your family’s many generations of loyalty, they got the honour of working directly for the royal family. Your parents were close to the royal family despite that they were working for them. When you were very young, your mother was a personal attendant to the young prince.
It had all been incredibly overwhelming back then, and you’d only hidden further behind your mother’s legs. Until - you’d spotted a boy, looking just as lonely and nervous as you, also behind his mothers legs. The prince.
A fond smile curls on your face as you remember Steve’s little frame. With cute round cheeks, curious brown eyes, long brown hair, dressed in fine fabrics that were only made for royal people. He had sparked your curiosity, his intriguing eyes looking at you as if he longed for your friendship already.
Your parents pushed you into his direction, you’d approached him hesitantly. Immediately, he’d give you the brightest smile once you were in front of him. And that one action - that one smile - had sealed it between the two of you. Ever since then, Steve has been your best friend. He’d stick out his hand for you to take and would tug you along with him down the hall, showing you around the palace as you both giggled.
Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue mulling over your relationship with prince Steve. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - he has been your only constant.
And for as long as you could remember, you’ve had an intense and hopeless crush on the prince, Steve Harrington.
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