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the demons DIDNT get me ifought them off

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Can you do a prompt where the reader gets sent to interdimensional space and ends up finding Magolor,and instead of being mad they’re glad he’s alive?

One blink, and then two.

You're falling, then; falling into that void. You asked for aid to find him. You can't be too mad, really. It really was what you wanted.

(You have to find him, or at least his body, and you have to bear it back home. It's the least you can do for someone you thought was your friend.)

So there you are, in this swirling maestrom of madness. The ground shakes beneath you. You stare into the sky and know it; fear of the divine.

And you press on, knowing that fear, holding it close to your heart. Is his body even intact? Is his mind even there? So many worries as you grasp at yourself in vain, trying to find something no longer there.

You don't like this feeling.

The cloudlike lands of the dimension you've been sent to are strange, but they are not without sense; over time, you learn to navigate them. It is after a while that you find him; you have lost your sense of time from prolonged exposure to this realm.

You spot the brown of his ear first; a spot of colour in this colourless abyss. Then the rest of his form, and as you break out in a run- ah, please let this be real, you also break into sobs.

The embrace you envelop him in is warm, and soft, and nice. It is comfort you have sorely missed. That he is alive is a tale beyond your wildest dreams, and yet you experience it right before you. His hands falter, twitching at your sides, but then he cautiously puts them right over your back, giving a hug in turn.

If this makes you cry he does not remark on it.

[a-mahoroa-blog]

are your reqs open??

mm, go ahead- sure

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uhhhhhh heyyyy im not as into kirby these days. but ill at least make an attempt to comb thru my old reqs. if i dont upload the demons got me :33

[a-mahoroa-blog]

There is something ancient living in your bones.

Each waking moment, it haunts your eyelids. When you close your eyes, you see it; an eye bearing down upon you. Alone in the starry void that surrounds you, but they are not stars but more gazes falling upoin you. You cannot escape. You cannot move. There is nothing, and you are becoming nothing.

You wake up with a gasp, choking on your own bile. You could have sworn you felt something terrifying crawling its way up your throatand into your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but lie there and take the brunt of the pain of that episode.

They were getting worse... you winced as you slowly, gingerly sat up, reaching for the glass of water you had on your bedside table. Magolor was generous enough to give you your own room in the Lor, because he proclaimed 'We're Very Good Best Friends, so I'll get you a place to stay!" Back then, you had thanked him with teary eyes as he showed you to your room. Yes, this is better to focus on.

Magolor is out right now, having finished his repairs. You assume he is taking a break. You decide you should too, after that horrible dream you had. It chases you. No way could it be a premonition, not ever, right?

You decide to take a walk. You carefully step outside, looking around. Volcanic, barren, ashen, you wondered how he ever lived here.

And then comes the rush of a portal, a distinct twinkling noise. You close your eyes to the blast of wind that comes rushing in your face, opening one after the initial force passes, but you see a giant gloved hand descending upon you instead. You wonder if this is the end, but then-

"Found you!" he chirps, grasping you in one giant hand and purring as he giggles. It sounds malicious.

You let out a shocked cry as he scoops you up in his embrace, hurtling through dimensions. As he is defeated by Kirby's friends, you sit in shock. The crown he wears on his head, you have seen somewhere before. It's whorls sit on his head, digging in deeper. Blood slowly trickles down his face, but he doesn't seem to notice.

You call out to him.

It doesn't matter. His desperation, Kirby's yell as he cleaves his body in twain with the Ultra Sword, the Crown leering down at you as it bears down upon his body and twists him- Darkness spreads across his face and he chokes on something, head falling. Then he looks up again, blinking blankly.

The eye swivels, lolls in his mouth, and you get up.

Too late, you realise your dreams were not of your fate, but of his. A warning that you failed to heed? A divine call to save his soul? Whatever it is, you didn't achieve it, and here is the result. With heart heavy and hand of iron, you grasp something in your space. A gift, once.

"You'll never have to fight again. You loved the bow, right?" "Yes, but my memories are tainted long. Please help me."

"...Well! I don't know how to help you. But I can set up a little minigame for you- I love building themeparks! It really is fun... I think you'll like this one I have, and... here. If you ever need to defend yourself, of course, friend!"

But he gave it to you to protect you with. It will service as a weapon in tough times. You grasp it in your hand, other pulling back the string. An enchanted bow, so you would never run out of shots. Your heart hurts. You let loose the arrow.

...You cannot not even hear his final call to you, transmitted by the Lor.

[a-mahoroa-blog]

another Overlord Magolor x reader, please!

It was almost funny how gullible you had been, in hindsight.

There were the signs, his nervous fidgeting and need to be closer to you before the fall. You disregarded it because of your trusting nature.

Oh, what foolishness. If only you had asked him-- if only you had noticed. But you had not. You wondered what he was planning with Popstar. It didn't matter, anyway; you would never see daylight again if he had his way, wouldn't you?

You didn't want this, but you could not bring yourself to hate him, either, not when he was weeping in your arms so. He, eyes wide open, gasped the names of your friends- the heroes of Dreamland, whom the thing has slaughtered. Your dearest, for that was still what he was to you, had some dark force dwelling within his soul. Only in rare moments such as this was he free, could he find respite.

This was not the future either of you had imagined. You wanted some peaceful, faraway fairytale. Him free, the two of you blissfully unaware of the darker aspects of magic. "It's okay." You softly murmured, touching your forehead to his. The king- no, the emperor of the universe. You briefly contemplated snapping his neck. It was so complicated, this tangled ball of feelings within you. Hatred for the ruthless slaughter of your friends. Love for the broken, haughty person you cherished.

But the few times he did show regret, his eyes seemed yours desperately, flashing yellow again. Golden. Your hands desperately clenched in his, as if to reassure himself that you were there. That you were real. The last figment of his happiness, the one thing he would not allow the Crown to taint.

It brought out the darker aspects of him, amplified them, that much is true. But Kirby's last stand was not useless; he had damaged it and it's magic. As such, these lucid moments, like dreams in a nightmare, came and went. Usually when he was alone with you. His hands tightened around yours. It started to hurt, so you gently hushed him. "I will not leave." His other self would never allow it. "I love you." Come back. Bring them back.

But the Crown does not give him that power, and he begs you. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I love you." You cannot hate him, that is true. And you will not leave him be to wreak havoc on this land. The red flows from his hands forevermore for his senseless slaughter of the child of the stars. The Magus-King of the Red Hands, they called him. You wonder what they call you. Silent as a ghost, you are only ever very rarely allowed out, and only by his side. His jealous impulses usually kept in check by his sense amplified by the Crown no doubt.

You cannot hate him. You will not forgive him. Perhaps another spring, you will be free. Perhaps one day you could journey together again. Those days were fun. But never again shall they come to pass. Pink, hammer, sword, and spear have fallen. There was no burial for the heroes. How could there be, when the throne was so swiftly taken by that traveling mage and his sleeping beauty? There is nothing else for you, and so you let yourself fall in this way.

Today, you tell him you love him back.

[a-mahoroa-blog]

Magolor prompt, where the reader is in danger or injured from fighting. Then after he takes care of them or scold them for being reckless.

How about both? My writing is pretty unstructured, so apologies for the messy prose

His eyes were frowning at you, narrowed in thought. "What were you thinking?" He sighed as he chastised you. His gloved hands rub salve near your wound, careful not to touch. You stayed quiet, a petulant look on your face as you ruminated the situation. "Honestly, you can't just go picking fights anytime. I'm worrie-" "They were bad-mouthing you."

He stopped, blinking at you in a comical fashion. "Hm?" "They said that you were a good-for-nothing and that Kirby was foolish for trusting you again. So I beat them up." You reply as it's the simplest thing.

His golden eyes narrow at you, the pot of salve long forgotten at his side. "That doesn't matter, though. The Waddle Dees are okay with me and so are our friends. Isn't that what matters?" He queries, his hands moving animatedly as always with his speech. "Yeah, but.. ugh. I can't let them say untrue things about you. It bothers..me."

The confession is easier to say than you think. You exhale, leaning back. "Well. You're my.." he visibly struggles to come up with a term to best describe you before simply giving up and chittering a term in his language. You don't understand. The blush on his cheeks visible under his hood gives you a general gist of the meaning, so you nod anyway as he continues his sentence. "As my-" that chirp again-"I want you to take care of yourself."

You pout. "I'll comply..."

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Please fill the void in my heart that desperately needs Meta Knight x Reader fanfic. Specifically either gender neutral or he/him pronouns I am starving for content.

I am SO sorry it took this long for me to answer I legit forgot this blog existed and now I'm mostly writing Magolor

His eyes under the mask are silvery gold; a colour nigh-indescribable. To bear witness to this view is the highest form of trust permitted to his allies for Meta Knight, and you are familiar with the sight.

His hands are cold in yours, but a comforting sort of cold. The kind where instead of freezing your hands lile the icy layers of hell, the coolness offsets the warmth on your cheeks at the sight. A comforting presence, always there. If not by your side, he is at your back.

He does not tell you he loves you very often, but it is okay, because his actions are loud enough.

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You needed more prompts? :3 I am here to oblige.

How about one in which reader is comforting Mags through the epilogue? Something something they jumped through the portal after him once he was freed from the crown?

Thanks for the ask! This is fun :)

You were loyal to a fault. He chased power and you chased his heart. Even knowing he would likely never return those feelings of yours, you followed him down a path of despair. Not out of a hope of your feelings one day being returned, but a need to see him happy.

When Kirby laid low that form he had taken on, you lept forward and took his hand. The shattering of the foul crown, and his body fading- perhaps you wanted to grant him peace, or maybe you wanted to follow him in the back of your mind. Kirby called out for you, but you didn't hear him, so lost in your thoughts.

And so it was that you fell into the other place.

Portals, forces pulling at you from all sides. You held onto his gloved hand the best you could, fearing what would happen if you separated. You could not let go. Not here, not now, now that you could finally get some answers. His garb shimmers and the colour fades from them.

After tumbling through a portal, you landed on your backside. After patting yourself down, you looked around at the unfamiliar scenery. It seemed obscured by clouds or something like them blanketing the world.

He stirred next to you, getting up. He seemed barely cognizant of your presence, at first, staring at his hands in a panic at the loss of his powers. You put your hand on his back gently and he jolted on the spot, blinking at you and murmuring your name.

It nearly broke your heart when he called your name questioningly, as if he could not believe you real. You nodded.

"Why," he asked quietly, "did you follow me?" "Is it so strange to tell you it is because I love you?" you replied with a stretch, righting yourself. You hadn't told him before, but if you followed him here, there was no where else you could bring that conversation. He closed his eyes, looking pained.

"You shouldn't." He said.

"But I do." You told him, tilting your head and grabbing onto his hands. "We can do this together, and then we'll go home and you'll say sorry. You can live with us. At the end there, you tried to help Kirby with that apple, right? You aren't a bad person." He inhaled shakily, looking off to the side. His gold eyes blinked rapidly. "Okay.. okay." With a swallow, he took your hand in his own and let go of the other.

"Let's go, okay?"

[a-mahoroa-blog]

Hi! could u write a magolor x reader where it’s post rtdldx and the reader is just hugging him and crying, relieved that he’s still alive and no longer crowned?

The first feeling that burst forth from your chest like a butterfly from it's cocoon was confusion. The visage that graced your eyes was one you had witnessed doomed to despair. You had been sure that the artifact swallowed him up as greedily as a starving man gulps up a rare meal.

And then he smiled, his golden eyes belying his nervousness- and oh, you had not realised til now how awful you had felt, how lonely you had been. A hole in your heart, a gaping wound. You hadn't even had the time to process your anger at him for his betrayal, but then that thing had crushed his will and you thought him gone. Perhaps he would not ever be the same, but he was still yours, still your Magolor, still the same person who taught you how to cast and the same person who spoke in that mix of formal speech and awful slang to you.

The next thing you knew, you were embracing him, sobbing your heart out.

Where did this come from? After his supposed death, you had been quiet, as if in a daze. Your mind clouded, you nearly allowed yourself to remain within the collapsing dimension.

But Landia saved you, bearing you to Popstar. You had tried to live since. You were sure you could get over it- eventually. You were sure.

But all of those thoughts left the moment you laid eyes on him. You clung onto him. "You idiot..." you sniffed. You felt his gloved hand tentatively brush the top of your head and back, and your tears wouldn't stop. You missed this, missed him, and from the sound of his shuddering sigh, you hoped he did the same to you. "I'm so glad.." you continued. "It was horrible, wasn't it? I'm so glad you're alive...."

Were they happy tears or sad ones for the fate he must have suffered alone? He didn't reply, but the way he pulled you closer said volumes by itself.

[a-mahoroa-blog]

I'd like a cute magolor fic where the reader overwhelms him w affection

ewww, cute stuff /j

I can totally do that!

The Lor Starcutter is a ship that takes you to paradise, or so they say.

Magolor did not believe it until now. Still, he had steered the ship to try to chase his own 'heaven' in infinite power. He had not reached it, his ascension cut short and cut down.

Despite that, he thought he was most happy here in your embrace, lazing about on the single couch in the Lor. Your touch, gentle upon his hood, lazily tracing a pattern. It was not what he thought to seek back then, yet he could not imagine being more content with his life.

But did he deserve such a thing? Your hand slipped over the scars of the crown and he winced slightly. It was an instinctive reaction, but you retracted yours quickly. "Are you alright? I'm sorry." A tender plea. He grumbled in response, a little bitter at the loss of the warmth you brought him, and you caught on. That was why he liked you back then, a like that blossomed into an affection. You adjusted your balance on the couch and hugged him, catching him off guard with your sudden movement.

"What brought this on?" He asked, tilting his head in that adorable way you so adored. "You know I love you, right?" You asked, because he needed to hear it. His face exploded with red, but he still held onto the false attitude he gave everyone. "Yeah, because everyone does! I'm the best around, the number one merchant in all of-" "Yes, you are." "You weren't supposed to agree!" He sighed playfully, but the content aura he gave off was clear through the way he hid his face behind the cover he wore.

Yes, this was truly paradise. Though he'd soon reconsider you a devil, given your bottomless penchant for teasing him as you pressed your cheek to his and gave him that truly happy smile he wanted to protect so much. What else could you be? He would continue to adore you, falling willingly into your unknowing trap.

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BEGGING for more magolor asks rn tbh I need prompts

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in which you are CROWNED

Fruitlessly you tear at your arms. You cannot escape. You cannot escape.

---and, well.

No one is here to help you.

Love bears no fruit; hatred is your destiny; and this prison is your mind itself. You watch from a glassy mirror as your body parades itself around as you, as ‘you’ fight against your friends. The spell clips Bandana Dee’s side, and you cannot close your eyes or your ears because you are formless. The wince is worse than a scream.

But who were you, really? If even your friend from childhood beloved one the one who saved you closest ally and journey’s partner could not save you. If you sacrificed yourself for his foolish wish, what does that make you?

It digs into your flesh. You cannot get it off of your head. Your darkest, deepest wishes are laid bare in front of your friends. Meta Knight will never trust you again, and Dedede probably won’t either. Magolor... will feel too guilty over your fate and distance himself, or he’ll give you something that won’t really make you feel better. Because that’s how the two of you were raised; transactions and money keep the world afloat, in the end. Bandana Dee and Kirby might forgive you, but with the fight dragging on, you’re seriously doubting even that.

You can only watch as you, the puppet, are pitted against your friends. One divine cut of a blade that cleaves the heavens that sears your flesh like agony. One rocket-propelled hammer swing into your torso that sends you reeling, flames chasing after the blow. One spear stab into your eye. You will only have one. 

It is still better than the horrors of your home. The wastes, the ash on your tongue, because even if you and he did not come from Halcandra you spent your formative years there after breaking free of that man. Of course you would think of it. The bartering, the deals, the false smiles, and he learned them better than you ever did because your heart was soft and your smiles sweet. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice all you are for him because what can you do for he who kept you alive?

You’ll keep him alive too. You’re good at that. Why is he crying? Why is he crying? Help me.

Your hand, when you reach out to him, is impaled by dark spikes from below.

[a-mahoroa-blog]

Hi!

May I please ask for a Crowned Magolor x reader? I know you’re busy, so take your time!

Sure! You're pretty lucky I logged in now lmao

Void, clear and simple. His eyes are maddened, impassioned with his desire for the conquest of the worlds. Cruel sorcery spun shackles on your soul.

Still, your feelings toward him--

"Magolor." Your voice is quiet. He left the four heroes behind on his quest to Popstar, spiriting you away upon sorcerous hand. "Where are you taking me?" He does not look at you. Perhaps he never did, if what he says is truth.

He does not answer, his gaze set on a horizon beyond your comprehension. Universal domination... such a grand scheme you could never comprehend. Of course you would fall for such a thing. You miss his golden gaze already; the hue of the orange eyes feels a mockery to your feelings. The metal of the crown seems to dig into his scalp more at your words.

He barely even flinches.

Perhaps he does not notice it. Perhaps he is too focused on his newfound apotheosis, his ascension into divinity to feel the pain. Drunk on power, he sweeps his iron hand through the land to conquer.

...But you recall his reactions to pain. Not this single-mindedness. He falsified his pain to get you to look at him, to softly smile and pat his head as you took care of him. Playing up reactions to get a rise out of you. You suppose this is what this might be on a larger scale.

So what, then, does this mean? You ponder, but in truth, you have already despaired. The crown's extensions appear more like the fingers of a great, clawing hand to you than a benevolent device. "Magolor." You try again, and this time, his glassy gaze snaps to you.

You have never feared him, not even in the moment he betrayed you and your friends, but in this second, you regret what you said. There is no feeling in those eyes. Nothing toward you. Then that instant passes, and this twisted warmth fills his gaze. He coos your name back, nuzzling into your cheek with his face. You smell the stench of dark magic. You feel the cold metal of the crown against your forehead, you feel the probing intrusion, and you push back with your own magic force. He yanks you away from his from suddenly, frowning suddenly with a confused look, before shaking his head and looking back with that same lovestruck gaze. You'd be sick from the transport, but you don't think he'd like that, so you try to hold it in.

"You never were good with dimensional travel, were you?" He chitters, holding your smaller form in front of him with his magically-empowered hands. You shake your head, no longer trusting yourself to speak with that horrible look he directed at you. It stings that he would remember even that. Is this a mockery? He sighs into your ear, holding you against himself once again. "Well, you'll surely get used to it. After all, I intend to make you mine."

There it is.

You close your eyes. Is this all you are fated for? To be the consort of some creature wearing your beloved one's face? But even so, his personality is neatly packaged there. It is as though someone took his worse traits and blew them into a larger part. As though he was shown through a distorted mirror.

Yet his hands are still gentle against your own, and if you keep your eyes covered, you can dream that everything is normal.

[a-mahoroa-blog]

hi friends! i'm gonna be back for rtdldx! quick sidenote, though; I have other hobbies (and school) so i'll be preeeetty slow about stuff, and it'll be pretty quickly edited!

i also don't check this sideblog that much, but i might do it more now since the release of the game :)

[a-mahoroa-blog]

hi..!!! do you happen to still use this account ?

Yeah, I'm just a little busy with schoolwork at the moment! Sorry for not answering asks for now? I'll be more active during break!

[a-mahoroa-blog]

Sorry for not posting recently, I’ve been busy with finals/injuring my thumb! I’m getting back on track with writing and your asks, I swear