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kyri45 · 2 months ago

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A final letter

Hello Everyone!

The queue is paused and everything is scheduled, which means we are ready for the finale!

I know that, in the end, this was just a silly side project for me, with everything else going on in my life. But for this occasion, I wanted to drop some words here and hope they make sense.

I started watching LMK only because a friend told me there was a "Sonadow-coded" ship. I ended up consuming the entire thing in one sitting on July 10th, 2024. At the time, I was still recovering from a bike accident that had left me with a broken right forearm—unable to draw for a little over a month. (I did try drawing with my left finger, but it wasn't exactly fun.)

Not only that, but it was summer, and I couldn’t enjoy the season or practice my main sport, windsurfing. To say I was feeling the blues is an understatement. I remember being in physical pain just from not being able to draw my sillies. But then, watching LMK did something to my brain chemistry that my little undiagnosed autistic self had never experienced before. It hit so hard that I’ve been physically unable to rewatch the show SINCE that very first day. (And y’all still call me the CEO of this fandom. Bro, I just work here.)

A lot of you have asked what inspired me to start this comic or to draw LMK fan art in the first place. While my usual answer is, "I saw Shadowpeach and thought MK could be their lovechild, given his appearance," the moment that actually started it all was THIS ONE—

(I HAD TO REWATCH THIS SCENE TO MAKE THE GIF AND IT HURT ME ON A MOLECOLAR LEVEL)

I have… a thing for characters who discover their entire identity was something else all along. It consumes my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment. I live for identity crises, for characters who thought they knew who they were, only to be forced to rediscover themselves, their existence, and their place in the world. If you give me a story where a character has to go through that, I will like it—regardless of how bad the rest of the story is.

Pair that with loads of trauma, daddy issues, the pressure of a legacy, and world-ending stakes, and congrats! Now I’m obsessed, and I will not stop thinking about it for the rest of my days!

At first, my brain just wanted to release some of that energy with a small, four-panel post about the monkeys discovering that MK was technically their kid.

That was supposed to be it.

But since I never seem to learn my lesson, it didn’t stay like that. Because once I started drawing, I just... continued.

And

never

stopped.

A lot of you have also asked how I found the motivation to draw so much, to never take a break. Well, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it one last time: I am my number one fan. No matter how much you laughed, cried, screamed, or went feral over this story, I did all of that and more. Because I got to think about the chapters months before they released. I got to daydream about them. I got to watch them come to life—first through sketches, then line art, then dialogue. And finally, I got to witness your reactions and see the incredible creations you made, inspired by my story.

So yeah, in a way, it was almost an addiction. A good addiction. Because, for the first time in my life, I actually understood what loving art means.

I’ve been drawing for ten years, working professionally for five, but I never loved art before. I just liked it because I happened to be good at it. But creating this comic made me understand why artists say, "Oh, I’ve loved drawing since I was a child!" This was the first time I allowed myself to create purely for my own enjoyment. Something I hadn’t had the privilege to do for a long time.

Other than making me feel even more single than I already was, this story somehow also helped me a little with my own family relationships. So yeah. Crazy how the gay monkeys changed my life.

Of course, I never could have predicted how much traction my AU would gain. Man, y’all were really starving to latch onto something this silly. /j

But yeah—thank you. Thank you for sticking around until the end, for having the patience and trust to follow the story even when I made you rage with angst and cliffhangers. (The statement in my bio still stands: I am not responsible for any physical or emotional damage my art has caused.)

I’m absolutely shit at thanking people, or at writing, or at talking in general, honestly. I’m the furthest thing from being good with words, so I hope the final chapter will be enough to show you my gratitude.

Through this story, I met so many wonderful, talented people. I watched as fans across different platforms found each other through memes and fanart of the AU. I saw artists start their own AUs inspired by mine, growing their own communities. I witnessed an explosion of creativity and collaboration through our takeovers. And I laughed along with you all.

And yeah—at its core, this story has always been about love. Whether it’s platonic, sibling, parental, romantic, or whatever the hell Mac and Wukong had going on for millennia.

At its heart, it’s a story about family.

And maybe, in the end… the real family wasn’t just the one in the comic, but the one we’ve found together along the way. 💛

See you all at the finale.

Love you all, freaks /affectionate

Jade

#shadowpeach bio parents au

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changbunnies · 7 months ago

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Danse Macabre (18+)

♡ Pairing: Rich Serial Killer!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: loosely house on haunted hill inspired, vaguely 1950s au, horror themes, dark romance, smut, dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')

♡ Word Count: 3.9k

♡ Summary: The handsomely wealthy Christopher Bang and his wife are holding an overnight party at the house on Haunted Hill, and the rules are simple– stay the entire night, and $100,000 is their guest's to take; but little do the guests know that their hosts don't intend to let them leave.

♡ General Warnings: this is a serial killer au! do not read if you aren't prepared to read about death + murder + blood + injury! (i personally think i kept the descriptions tame and mild but everyone has different opinions so just use ur discretion and don't interact if you think you may be bothered by anything listed !), chan is referred to as chris, reader is very complicit in his crimes, they're a sick and twisted couple i fear!

♡ Smut Warnings: hybristophilia (i.e chan being a killer turns reader on), smut begins with chan talking about killing reader (intended to be strictly roleplay because he knows it excites them, but ur free to read it as him being serious if ur freaky like that lol), heavy usage of pet names (darling, my love, princess, sweetheart, dear), dom/sub dynamics, rough and a lil mean dom!chan, big dick chan because it's hot!, hair pulling, knife kink (but without a knife actually being used), corruption kink (not in the traditional way), tiny bit of nipple play, oral (m rec), facefucking, choking (on cock :) ), dacryphilia, manhandling, mirror sex, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: welcome to the first of my late kinktober fics ! this fic is loosely inspired by the opening scenes of the 1959 house on haunted hill movie, which is why the setting is vaguely 1950s!, this is the darkest fic i've tried my hand at writing, but i'm also a very big horror fan so writing this was very fun for me even tho it's not the genre i typically write for!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

"Darling, the guests are arriving. You must get ready," your husband, Christopher, emphasizes as he steps into the master bedroom you'll be occupying for the evening.

You're sitting at the room's vanity, all of your hair pulled to one side as you finish drying it after your long, relaxing bath. The scent of lavender bath oil and citrus shampoo linger over you– scents brought with you from home because you absolutely refuse to use the luxurious room's complimentary soap; no offense intended to the housekeepers who provided it, of course.

You look sweet as ever in your dainty little pastel blue babydoll gown, your robe delicate and sheer, hanging down off your shoulder and bunching at your elbows. You glance at Chris through the vanity mirror as you begin to comb your hair and free it of any leftover tangles, meeting his gaze with a smile.

"What's the rush, my love? Is it not customary to be late to a party?" Chris chuckles as he steps closer, runs his hand over your shoulder and down your spine as he leans down to kiss the top of your head. "Normally I'd agree with you. But this is your party, princess. You should greet your guests."

He's right, of course– today is your birthday, and he booked the entire mansion, as well as invited all the guests, at your behest. Christopher is the old money sort– a millionaire from a long line of millionaires before him. And because of that, your party comes with a fun gimmick– survive a night in the haunted mansion, and earn an easy hundred thousand dollars.

Assuming each guest successfully lasts until dawn, that's $700,000 for your husband to pay out– but that's no worry! That's still only chump change to a man as wealthy as Chris– and besides all that, no one's going to last until morning anyways; you're certain of that.

Naturally, as having a haunted house party was your idea, the venue was your choice– and the eerie mansion that sits lonesome upon Haunted Hill was the perfect pick. You've always found it strikingly beautiful from the outside, dreamed of one day stepping inside and drinking in all its Victorian charm.

It's certainly lived up to your expectations– and you're sure Chris will buy it for you if you express to him just how much you adore it; he'd buy you the entire world if you asked him to. For now, it's good enough that he rented it out for your sinister party.

You doubt the mansion is actually haunted– you don't put much stock in the stories of ghosts and ghouls that gave this hill its nickname; but it's a fun little tale, and you don't mind playing into it for the sake of a fun time. And it certainly helps make your party's tag line of "survive the night!" more inconspicuous.

"They're all strangers, sweetheart– I don't think they'll mind if I'm a little late," you tell him with a coy little smile as you set your comb back down on the vanity, satisfied with the condition of your freshly washed hair. He returns your smile with a mischievous one of his own, an amused glint in his eye.

"And remind me, darling, why it is that we've rented this house and invited a bunch of strangers to your party," Chris says as he leans down further, his breath fanning your ear. You giggle, almost innocently– though both of you know you're more than just complicit in his endeavors; you actively fuel them, his sadistic princess.

"You know why, my love," you reply, and to anyone else your smile would seem pure, almost angelic– but Christopher knows better. He knows that his kills excite you– perhaps even more than they excite him. He grabs a fist full of your freshly tamed hair, grins at the gasp you let out when he pulls your head back.

"And this is really what you want for your birthday? To see me stick my knife into someone's neck? To have me return to this room covered head to toe in their blood?" he questions as he looms over you now, but the answer is clear as it always is. He sees the way your thighs squeeze together, sees how the desire darkens your eyes– you’re sick; but that’s what he loves most about you.

"I could kill you too, you know. Take my knife right along your skin, just like this," he says as he runs a finger over one side of your neck to the other, gentle but purposeful in demonstration. Your breath hitches as you squirm in your seat, unable to turn your eyes away from him as he tightens the grip on your hair.

"But you wouldn't," you breathe, and Chris smiles, sweet and sinister as his eyes narrow at you, just how you like it. "Are you certain, dear? Do you think me incapable?"

"I think you love me, as I love you," you answer, eyes starting to water from the sting of his tug on your scalp. "I love that you trust me," he replies as he trails his finger down, over your collarbones and to your chest. His fingers play with the dainty lace of your gown for just a moment before he slides his hand inside, cupping your breast in his large palm.

"I bet you wouldn't even bat a lid if I touched you with my knife here," he continues as he brushes his thumb over your hardening nipple, "you'd actually like it, wouldn't you, my love? Feeling the cold steel here, knowing I could easily cut you if I wanted to?" You whine, try to nod your head though his grip prevents it– all you can do is answer with a meek "yes" instead.

"Speak up, darling. I'm afraid I couldn't hear you," he says with an expectant look that sends a shiver down your spine. Chris indulges your every desire, gives you everything in the world you want– so in the moments like these, in which when he asks something of you, you listen.

"Yes! I'd like it!" you answer, as loud and clear as you can bring your voice to be. Chris smiles, the sweet one he always gives you when you listen to him well, with his handsome dimples on display– a stark contrast from the darkness in his gaze. He releases his grip on your hair, cups your face and rubs his thumb over your cheek as he kisses you, greedy and deep.

You always manage to get him hot; all it takes is a few simple words and that sweet gaze of yours to get him worked up– always the picture perfect image of innocence, pretty smiles and soft gazes that hide the depravity lingering beneath. So coy and demure, batting your lashes and acting like you don’t know at all what he does in the dead of night, acting like it doesn’t make your stomach twist– not with fear, but with desire.

Chris always sees through your act– he knows you. But he won’t pretend he doesn’t like it– the fun little game you share, where you gasp in faux surprise when he enters the room drenched in a new victim's blood, where your voice trembles and eyes well with tears when he grabs you hard, kisses you deep as the blood coating him transfers to your skin, sharing it with you.

And your answer now– whether it’s part of the game, or you truly would like feeling his knife cutting your pristine, unsullied skin, it doesn’t matter. He meant it when he said he loves that you trust him; and he loves that you wanted this. That all you wanted for your birthday was this party– to see him at his most unleashed, to indulge in the most sinful fun you could share as a couple.

You never say what he is out loud– don’t call him a monster, a murderer, or a killer. You always dance around it, play innocent, though it’s obvious enough that you know the truth; and that’s more than enough for Chris. In fact, he prefers it this way; he likes to pretend he’s ruining your innocence, likes to pretend he’s a corrupting influence in your pure, perfect world, likes to pretend he’s ruining you.

Maybe in a way, he is– maybe you were a good girl before you found out his secret, maybe catching him in the act changed you, and maybe he’s dragging you down to hell with him by sharing this part of his life with you. Regardless, he loves what you have together– and he’ll keep playing this dangerous game with you, even if it ends in both your demise.

You melt into his kiss, as you always do– his lips, so plump and soft, always feel so perfect when they’re pressed against yours. You open your mouth for him the moment you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and he hums pleasantly as he slips his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the most slow or sensual kiss you’ve ever shared– rather, it’s needy, passionate and urgent.

Chris smiles at you again when he pulls away, enjoying the sparkle beholden in your eyes as you stare up at him. “Open your mouth for me, darling,” he says as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You do as instructed, the obedient thing you are for him, and he grins as he sticks his thumb inside your mouth.

You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it after he rests it against your tongue. “Oh, my love– you already knew what to do, didn’t you? Always know just what I want, yeah?” You hum as you nod, staring up at him oh so enticing and pretty. “You’ll suck my cock just like that, won’t you?” he continues, biting his lip to suppress a laugh when you eagerly nod and hum once more.

He removes his thumb from your mouth with a pop, hurries with undoing his belt and pulling his cock out of his trousers. His cock is mesmerizing, as always– so long and thick, with pretty veins and a leaking tip; but you aren’t given any time to idly sit and admire it. He wraps your hair around his fist, forces you to take his cock in your mouth all at once.

You choke and sputter as his cock presses against the back of your throat, your nose meeting his pubic bone in a flash, the neatly trimmed hair there tickling your skin. You can’t pull your head back with his grip forcing you down– but you wouldn’t dream of trying anyways; this is what he wants, and he'll have it.

Eyes watering, you do your best to relax your jaw and throat, to suck him just the way he likes, with your tongue massaging his veins. It’s a struggle to breathe through your nose, unprepared for his cock as you were– and it’s not until your eyes are dimming and head is swimming from the lack of oxygen that he pulls you back to let you take a breath.

It’s harsh, lungs positively burning as you take deep, heaving breaths. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling. Was that too much for you?” he asks, but his tone lacks its usual sincerity. “Chris–” you cry his name weakly after taking another breath, a few of the stray tears lingering on your lids finally spilling over as you blink.

“My dear,” he cuts you off, forcing his cock past your lips once more, using the leverage of his grip on your hair to once again push your head down on him, making you take his length into your mouth until you choke on it.

“You weren’t going to complain, were you? No, I know you wouldn’t do that,” he says, voice wavering ever so slightly, breathier from the pleasure your mouth gives him. “Because I give you everything you want. Everything I do is for you– so you’ll let me use you, yeah?”

He’s right again, of course– you wouldn’t dream of complaining, of depriving him of what he wants from you. And you both know this is far from the limit of what you can take, but as with everything else, he likes when you pretend for him. When you cry and weakly try to protest, half hearted utterances of “too much!” or “I can't!” as tears roll down your cheeks– an act that always leaves him throbbing.

And Chris is good to you, always puts the entire world in the palm of your hands– so just as he says, you’ll thank him by letting him use you however he wants. You can’t nod your head, and any word you try to speak would be muffled and indecipherable– so you allow your jaw to go slack to show him you understand.

“Good, just like that,” he says as you lay your tongue flat, his praise a small kindness before he really lets loose. He easily controls your pace, yanks your hair back until only the tip of his cock remains in your mouth before shoving you back down to the base of it.

You try not to gag and choke, but most attempts go unsuccessful, more tears spilling from your eyes and drool spilling from the corners of your mouth with each full press of his length in your mouth. You can’t even feel the sting on your scalp anymore– all you can focus on is trying to breathe while he uses your mouth.

But all you can breathe is Chris, and he’s unforgiving in the way he moves you on his cock. You jaw quickly begins to ache, and every low groan that he releases is drowned out by the filthy sounds your mouth and throat create as you swallow around his cock.

He doesn’t let up until your vision darkens and blurs again, your nails digging into your own thighs as you try to hold out as long as possible. You gasp when he pulls you off his cock, heart pounding in your chest as the much needed air finally returns to your lungs.

You look up at Chris as he releases his grip on your hair, eyes lidded and hazy. He’s made a real mess of you– from the way his fingers have tousled your hair, to your freshly swollen lips, to the saliva that dripped down from your mouth to your chest. It’s pretty, really– so, so pretty; he almost wants to coo at you.

Instead, he strokes your cheek, offers you a look of faux sympathy– and you’re much too addled to realize he doesn’t mean it. You take the affection regardless of his intent, close your eyes and lean into his touch. You can hear him softly laugh, can easily imagine that smirk he must have on his face right now.

“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Chris reminds you as he takes his hand away from your face. He grabs your arm, lifts you up from your chair and quickly turns you around, shoving everything resting on the vanity aside before he’s bending you over it. Your yelp of surprise is weak considering the abuse your throat just suffered, your hands lying flat as he presses you down against the hardwood.

Your face smushes against the mirror, and how cold it is in contrast to how hot your face has become nearly makes you jolt. He shoves your panties to the side easily with his fingers, and you can hear him chuckle when you impatiently begin to squirm as he presses his cock against your dripping hole.

“Princess– stay still,” he says, and you can tell from his tone alone that it’s much more a demand than it is a request. You mutter a soft apology as you still your hips, and he waits a moment– waits to see if you’re going to move again before he acts.

“Please,” you whine, make your desire to have his cock filling you up known, but ultimately don’t move. With a satisfied grin that you can just barely see on his face from your position against the mirror, he slowly, finally, starts to press his length inside your pussy.

He brings his hands to your hips, holds you as you begin to tremble from the feeling of his cock stretching you out. He doesn’t give you time to adjust– just squeezes your hips in his hands as he starts to fuck you from behind. “Oh, Chris– fuck,” you gasp, though it quickly becomes a moan.

His cock feels so deep in this position, and it has your eyes rolling back with each motion of his hips into yours. “You’re so fucking wet, fuck–” he groans, his hands gripping you harder as he finds his rhythm. “Squeezing so tight– feels good, huh, princess? You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Yes, love it! Love you, love your cock, feels so good–” You cry, high pitched whimpers leaving you now as you try to nod your head, though its position against the mirror doesn’t make it easy. Chris groans again before he moves a hand to your hand, threads his fingers through your hair again to pull you back against him.

You reach backwards to support yourself, one of your hands clinging to his shirt while the other holds him behind the neck. “Look at yourself, darling. Look,” he says against your ear, and you focus your eyes on the mirror. You look at Chris through it first, take in the sight of the sweat dripping down his temple and the clench in his jaw as he fucks you.

Your eyes travel down, met with the sight of your tits bouncing with each of his thrusts, threatening to spill out of your babydoll gown. Lower still, you watch as he takes his other hand off your hip, slides it past the hem of your gown to find your clit with his fingers. “Want you to watch yourself cum. Don’t stop looking,” he tells you, and you whine– it won’t be easy, but you’ll listen; you always do.

He lets go of your hair, and is quick to wrap his arm around your body so that you don’t fall too far forward. You’re so wet that his fingers quickly become slick, and it makes his touch lack friction as they slide messily over your clit, but the feeling is still so delicious that you can’t complain.

It’s so hard to maintain eye contact with your reflection, hard to prevent your eyes from rolling back whenever he hits your spot with his cock while playing with your clit, but you keep doing your best for him. He can feel you clenching harder as you continue to watch yourself unravel, feels your nails starting to dig into where they hold his neck.

“C’mon, love– cum for me, you can do it sweetheart,” Chris urges you, his voice soft and low in your ear. “I will! ‘m gonna– gonna cum for you!” you cry; and though you’d been doing so well, you can’t help but let your eyes roll back and close as you finally let go and gush on his cock. If it were a different day, he might scold you for not keeping your eyes open like he told you to– but it is your birthday today, so he’ll let it pass just this once.

He pushes you back down onto the vanity as you ride out the last of your orgasm, face once again smushing against the mirror as he grabs your hands and holds them behind your back at the wrists, fucks you rough and deep as he chases his own release. You whimper and tremble, unable to escape the sensitivity you feel, or able to grip anything to ground yourself– all you can do is take it.

“Can’t! Chris, please– I can't, t-too much, too much!” your voice warbles as you cry, the pleasure you feel overwhelming. “Yes you can,” he says as you writhe helplessly in his grasp, your fingers clenching into desperate fists where he holds them against your back. “You can take it, I know you can.”

You’re going to cum again, you know it– he doesn’t even have to touch your clit again to get you there, because the tip of his cock is kissing your spot so good that you’re seeing stars. You’re panting hard, your every breath fogging the mirror, your nails digging into your palms as Chris’ name leaves you in desperate, broken syllables.

It’s not until you’re finished cumming around him for a second time that his pace finally begins to falter– he lets go of your wrists, squeezes your hips in his hands and thrusts once, twice more before his own high takes him. You whine as you feel his cum spurt deep inside, hot and sticky, leaving you perfectly full.

Chris takes just a moment to steady his breathing before he’s slipping out of you, hurrying to reach to the ground for the tissue box he previously knocked off the vanity. He grabs a tissue, cleans between your legs as gently as he can, though you still end up flinching just a bit.

He then readjusts your panties so they rest on you properly again, and helps you settle back into the vanity’s chair. He kisses you after tucking his softening length back in his trousers, glances in the mirror to make sure nothing else about his appearance is out of place before he has to return to your party.

“Was it good?” you ask earnestly as you look up at him, and he smiles at you, stroking your head sweetly. “Of course, my darling. You’re perfect, as always,” he tells you, and you beam, turning your head to kiss his hand before he takes it away. He glances over at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner of the room, laughs in disbelief when he notes the time.

“Gosh, it’s almost midnight– we really must hurry,” he says, and you giggle, truly without a care in the world that you’ve kept your guests waiting. You turn back to vanity, pout as you take in your appearance– you were too far gone from lust to really realize just how debauched Chris made you, but now you truly see just how much you have to fix.

“Christopher! You’ve ruined me!” you complain before looking around the floor for your comb. “Apologies, princess,” he chuckles, leaning down to pick up your comb for you once you’ve spotted it. He hands it to you, but doesn’t completely release his grip to let you take it until after you kiss him in thanks.

“Now then– I’ve got to go entertain our guests. But hurry, won’t you, darling? I wouldn’t want to start the real fun without you,” Chris says as he rests his hand on the knob of the bedroom door, and you smile as you look at him through the mirror, making quick work of fixing your hair.

“Of course, my love. I wouldn’t miss my party for the world,” you tell him; and despite what he said, it’s not long until you hear the first shrill scream of the night. Dressed in your prettiest red dress and heels, you peek your head out of the bedroom door– and Chris stands there, knife in hand with blood speckled over his face.

“Sorry darling, didn’t have a choice,” he explains, and you giggle as you fully step out of the room, carefully stepping over the blood that decorates the floor to kiss him before shooing him away to continue. Your birthday party has fully kicked off now– and it’ll certainly be one to remember.

#skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #meant to post this earlier in the day but i wanted to give it one more read to make sure there were no mistakes :')#and if there are mistakes after i just reread it for the millionth time after finishing it then just ignore them i beg gfdshghf

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somepsychopomp · 4 months ago

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A Fair Contest

So a little bit ago I drafted an idea for an AU where, instead of the golden apple saying 'to the fairest' it says 'to the most amorous king'

And instead of the ladies fighting over the apple, it's Zeus & Poseidon. In order to determine who exactly is the superior lover (and king + who gets bragging rights), the two brothers select one (un)fortunate mortal that both of them shall take to bed...

and the judge they select for their little contest is none other than Odysseus.

(Takes place pre-Trojan War. In fact there's basically no Trojan War to begin with. Also Odysseus is betrothed but not yet married to Penelope)

Consider this chapter 1 of this fic. I really hope I can finish it because I stayed up to almost 4 am writing this, which is amazing because I've been dealing with a major cold and writers block for a while now

Word Count: approx. 4400

There's no smut yet but I do confess to giving Ody a bubble butt. Also in a world where Ruthlessness never happened/is yet to happen... Poseidon has a thing for strong thighs & is absolutely smitten with Odysseus

Also in my head, I'm imagining Neal's character designs but I think I've kept it vague enough for now that you can imagine whatever designs you like

+++

The wedding had been a most splendid sight, with revelry among both men and gods. The small mortal king, Peleus, was of course honored to host such a wide variety of the gods and have them witness his union with the divine Thetis. Zeus gave the couple his own blessing and permitted Dionysus to pour out his strongest wine for the occasion.

Well into the night, the attendees danced to a tireless band and feasted upon the finest foods available. Gods mingled with mortals, some sneaking off with a young maiden or cupbearer for some more illicit fun.

All was going well until the first beam of daylight shone upon a pedestal that no guest noticed before, where a golden apple awaited.

Curious onlookers clustered around it, wondering where it could have come from. The mortals believed the apple to be made of real gold, thinking it was a lavish wedding gift. The gods were equally mystified, knowing that something so perfect and beautiful could only be given by one of their own. Hera pursed her lips at the sight of it.

The king of the gods made his way to the center of the crowd, the other guests parting for him with their eyes averted in deference. He regarded the apple with mild curiosity, having a treasury greater than all of Greece’s wealth upon Olympus. A ribbon was tied neatly to the apple’s stem with a message embroidered upon it.

“To the most amorous king.”

Zeus chuckled at the oddity of this little present and moved to take the apple.

Only for another hand to grab it at the very same moment.

The two gods stared at each other.

“What do you think you’re doing, dear brother?” Zeus asked, the smile falling from his face.

Poseidon rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Taking my prize.”

“You?” Zeus said, his voice dripping with outrage, “You dare defy your king like this?”

Poseidon’s voice turned sharp and cold. “I am lord of the seas! The gift doesn’t say ‘to the king of the skies’, now does it? No, you read it yourself.”

The mortal guests, including King Peleus, began to make their quick exit from the venue. Some of the lesser gods were also making their sneaky escape, fearing the worst was about to come.

Hera approached her husband and wrapped her arms around his own, “Darling, it’s just an apple. If you want one, I’ve got a whole orchard full.”

It was true that Gaea, the very earth itself, gave Hera a grove of enchanted apple trees as her wedding gift. The trees were immune to all illnesses and sprouted fruit of pure gold all year round. In all likelihood, this very apple was stolen from the Queen’s orchard.

The god-king’s most favorite child appeared at his other side in an attempt to soothe his growing rage, “Father, listen to Queen Hera. This is a trick meant to sew discord, nothing more.”

Zeus ignored his daughter Athena as if she weren’t there.

“Let it go, my love.” Hera said, “After all, why have one apple when you could have hundreds?”

Zeus gave her a sharp look, his golden eyes burning with a harsh, radiant glow. The queen of the gods was so taken aback that she shrunk away under the weight of his glare. Zeus said, “I am the god of judgement! No matter how trivial of a token it is, I will not let my brother take what does not rightfully belong to him!”

Poseidon threw his head back and laughed, not one to be daunted, “Oh, is that so? And how will you prove that it doesn’t belong to me, hm?”

He tossed the golden apple into the air, catching it in his other hand. Zeus bared his teeth and snatched Poseidon’s wrist, unwilling to let elder brother even hold the thing.

It was now apparent to all the remaining gods what this was really about.

Neither king would secede when their pride and egos were in jeopardy. For either of them, letting the other take the apple now, after they’ve already started bickering, would mean admitting they were the more feeble lord, a less competent lover. And such a slight against their reputations would never stand.

“Ahem,” a voice said.

A lovely woman with flawless bare skin for all the world to admire, a translucent shawl draped around her arms and roses in her pale tresses, stepped forward.

Zeus barely spared her a glance. “What is it, Aphrodite?”

She smiled, though not without a hint of mischief in her eyes, “I think I have the solution to this little conflict of ours, one that will minimize any substantial damage to our family… or the known world.”

Zeus inclined his head in interest. Poseidon gave the goddess his ear, as well. Zeus let go of his brother and the sea god set the apple down.

Athena bit her lower lip, knowing that Aphrodite’s schemes were almost never more than just that: schemes. Games to amuse herself with. She had something else in mind.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A large, circular mirror gilded in silver and gold appeared in the air behind her. The surface rippled the same way a pond did when met with rainfall.

A beautiful young maiden with a long braid of black hair tended to her garden. The image rippled and was replaced with what was clearly a princess being dressed for the day by her servants. Again, the image shifted and showed a handsome young man in a short chiton as he shepherded his flock of sheep.

Aphrodite said, “Now, I’m sure you two could spend eternity bickering back and forth, boasting of your skills and past conquests, but as the goddess of love myself… why not have more of a practical examination?”

The two brothers exchanged a look, coming to the same conclusion.

“You want us to share a lover?” Poseidon asked.

Zeus added, “And have them decide?”

Aphrodite winked and gave them a cheerful smile. “Well, what do you say? There’s no shortage of pretty boys or girls across the land. Come, take your pick!”

Zeus stroked his beard, a few sparks crackling across his fingertips. Poseidon crossed his arms in contemplation.

“Father, Uncle!” Athena said, trying to catch their attention, “This is madness, can you not see?”

But neither god answered her. Athena was in disbelief.

All this over a golden apple that neither needed or really wanted. This was all about their reputations as accomplished lovers, which they shouldn’t even have considering they were both married men.

And Aphrodite, it was clear she was only doing this to make a story out of it, the way she and her son Eros loved to couple mortals together, only to break them apart. No doubt some terrible fate will befall the chosen victim, no matter who they named the superior lover.

In Athena’s mind, she could only imagine the loser of this game casting some bitter curse upon the poor mortal as revenge. But that was the fun of it for some gods, to see the doomed fate of some poor soul after getting mixed up with the divine.

Behind Zeus’ back, Hera threw her hands into the air before storming off, summoning her chariot pulled by winged horses to return her to Olympus.

Athena threw a disappointed look at Aphrodite before leaving as well, deciding to go where her counsel would be appreciated.

+++

By mid-morning, Odysseus’ back and brow were already covered in sweat as he endeavored to finish the roof over his wedding bed before an unfortunate rain could sully his hard work below.

The house he was raised in was perfectly fine, but with all the servants and guards on top of his family, it was not the largest of castles. It was also an old thing in constant need of repairs. Odysseus always envisioned a proper palace atop Ithaca’s mountains, one where his own family could grow large and have plenty of space to themselves.

So, before the eve of his wedding, he endeavored to complete the house of his dreams for his new wife to enjoy. He started with their olive tree, a living symbol of his devotion to his betrothed. Odysseus labored day and night to carve part of it into one of the four posts for his wedding bed, taking extreme caution to not cut away so much that the tree would die.

The largest bough of the olive tree would overlook one of their windows, with a perfect view of the vast ocean beyond it. Odysseus already carved the other three bed posts and constructed the frame, but there was always more work to do. As the common larborers constructed the foundation and walls for the other rooms in the palace, Odysseus went to work constructing the roof for his bedroom.

With a sizable living tree in such close proximity to his quarters, he trusted no one but himself to complete the project without damaging it.

Taking up hammer and nails, hauling wood and stone, and fitting everything into place almost entirely on his own was unusual for a king. Odysseus knew this, but the labor brought him joy like no other. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, imagining opening the door for the very first time as a married man. He would carry Penelope to their wedding bed, built entirely by his hand, and spend the rest of his life with her.

Focus, he told himself.

For now, Penelope still dwelled in her natal homeland of Sparta. As soon as her new home was completed, she would set sail for Ithaca.

Odysseus wiped the sweat from his brow as the sun beat its rays upon his back. Maybe it was foolish to fear the coming rainfall, but he could see the grayish clouds on the horizon.

By midday, he was hopeful he could have the roof finished by nightfall. As Odysseus dropped from one of the wooden rafters into his nearly-complete bedroom, his tunic must have caught on a nail or perhaps a large splinter. He heard the sharp tearing of fabric and grumbled at the gash across his front. One of the room’s alcoves had some of his clothes, since he didn’t have time yet to build the chests or wardrobe.

Thinking better of a tunic, Odysseus merely replaced it with a rectangular length of cloth fastened at the waist. It was something his mother wove, a lovely shade of blue to match the sea, embroidered with red and white thread.

From somewhere nearby, he heard the familiar clicking of an owl’s beak coming to greet him. He smiled and turned around, draping his tunic over his arm as his mentor approached him in the form of a brown and white speckled owl. She sank her talons into his arm and flapped her wings as if in outrage.

He let her perch on the alcove’s lip as he fasted a leather pauldron to his left shoulder. She hopped back on and Odysseus could feel her talons clench and unclench even through the tough leather.

“What troubles you, Athena?” Odysseus asked.

He set out through the bedroom’s heavy oak doors, finding himself in a long hallway that was finished, but not yet furnished or cleaned.

She spoke into his mind, Sometimes, I wish I could belong to any other family but my own.

Odysseus chuckled. “I’m sorry to hear.”

While he loved his parents and sister dearly, he knew that Athena often butted heads with her siblings and uncle.

Odysseus counted the windows that still needed shutters and curtains, along with the patches in the roof that had yet to be filled in. Farther along, the great hall where they would entertain guests was still only a skeleton. Only half of the supporting beams and columns were installed and the whole place reeked of sweating men.

Athena paid the laborers no mind as the citizens of Ithaca bowed for their king as he walked by.

You know I’m not one for gossip, but I fear something terrible is about to strike the land.

“Is that so?” Odysseus asked, his smile dropping.

Yes, a terrible tragedy yet to come in the form of my Uncle Poseidon and my father.

A servant approached Odysseus with a serving platter. He took a cup of water and drank deeply, and snatched a small bowl of olives before going on his way.

“They’re angry with us?” Odysseus asked, fearing what this might mean for his people.

No, Athena said, accepting an olive and biting into the tender flesh with her sharp beak, Not quite, but their egos are yet again showing themselves. If you find unusual weather patterns in the next few days, pay them no mind.

“Ah, I see.”

In truth, he didn’t understand Athena at all. But she seemed in the mood to vent about her personal feelings and seeing as she didn’t do so often, Odysseus was careful to listen.

Athena clacked her beak in irritation. Odysseus bit into his own olive as he felt a sharp nibble on his ear before she started combing through his damp hair. She must’ve found something in his hair, a bit of dust or a wood chip, because he could feel her tugging at him.

How goes construction on the new palace?

“Every day, I can see the way it’s growing.”

Odysseus passed by a group of men sitting in a loose circle, taking swigs from a water skin as they fanned themselves. One caught sight of Odysseus and they all scrambled to their feet.

Odysseus held out a hand to put them at ease, “Catch your breath if you must. A tired man is more prone to making mistakes, and I will not have any in my new house.”

The men all sighed in relief and went back to their break, waving goodbye as he continued onward. Athena cooed to show her approval in his decision. He thought her mood was improving, but not a moment later, she said, I just can’t believe them sometimes.

“Oh?”

Odysseus thought Athena said her piece already. She clicked his beak right in his ear.

You would think that the god of law and order would have some sense in his head. But no! Apparently my mother Metis still possesses it. If only Father would listen to her, if not me.

Odysseus said nothing, having never heard Athena speak like this before, especially about her father. He thought it best to remain silent; perhaps Athena could complain about Zeus without punishment, but he knew far better.

Athena clicked her beak with a different sense of urgency and Odysseus gave her another olive. She held it in one foot while balancing on the other, dropping the pit when she was finished devouring the flesh.

“You seem awfully worked up,” Odysseus said, “Anything I can do to lift your burdens?”

Athena shook her head. No, I’m afraid this is something that no one man can solve, as frustrating as it might sound.

He crossed the central courtyard and approached the war room, one of the few nearly-complete parts of the palace, where his chief architects and advisors were waiting to update him on their progress.

Though Odysseus was primarily trained in the art of war, he was also well-versed in song and poetry, history, oratory, and arithmetic, all courtesy of Athena. He wasn’t an expert in architecture yet, but he had his own hand in designing the layout of the palace.

“Good day, my friends.” Odysseus said, parting the curtains that served as a makeshift door until the palace was fitted with proper ones.

One of his elder advisors squinted at Athena upon his shoulder. “My liege?”

Before they could go over any potential issues in the construction or their budgetary concerns, Odysseus wandered over to the window and let Athena take off. She disappeared through the trees, though he knew he’d see her again soon.

+++

Despite the fact the sun was about to set and the two godly kings had been bickering all day long, Aphrodite hadn’t lost her patience yet. In fact, she was even reveling in her task at hand.

They moved their business to her abode on Olympus, where her many mirrors were put to good use. Zeus and Poseidon scoured the lands for a suitable judge to measure their sexual prowess, each of them interested in different aspects of what made up a potential lover.

Zeus was pleased with just about any pretty face that breathed, but Poseidon was a bit pickier with appearances. He didn’t want his maidens or young men to be too skinny, and he seemed to have a preference for those with strong legs. Aphrodite could certainly work within those bounds.

At the same time, Poseidon was more open to sharing a lover with some previous sexual experience, thinking it’d make the whole process easier. Zeus wrinkled his nose at the idea and insisted he wanted someone “new”, not wanting to muck about after some vastly lesser mortal man had his way with their chosen judge.

Aphrodite agreed that was a good point, so instead of letting the two kings squabble, she put her talents as a matchmaker to good use. After a brief consultation, she put together a list of minimum requirements that satisfied both gods.

One, their shared lover had to be attractive, preferably with appealing legs.

Two, they had to be virginal.

Three, they all agreed that the mortal should come from high standards, so some form of royalty. They could be a princess or a prince, or even someone lesser than that, but anyone of a noble bloodline would be preferable to a random maiden. Of course, both kings had their fair share of peasant-girl chasing, but for such an important competition, Aphrodite understood their concerns well.

And lastly, the judge should be someone intelligent. Someone who wouldn’t buckle under the pressure of their assigned task and would be able to use not just their body, but logic to determine the true and indisputable winner.

No doubt each god had their plans to bribe the judge, but who wouldn’t?

If it was Aphrodite competing for the apple, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out a few tricks of her own. An idiot might be easy to bribe, but that also meant they’d be easy for the competition to bribe as well. To each of the male gods, an intelligent lover would certainly be able to recognize a superior bribe.

“Sadly, your stipulations exclude Helen of Sparta,” Aphrodite said, waving away the image of Helen in her largest mirror, “She’s had children by now, though she’s still quite lovely.”

Poseidon made a noncommittal sound, as if he might reconsider, but Zeus urged Aphrodite to move onto the next candidate with a flick of his wrist. The two of them sat before her best mirror, looking almost comical in her rose-colored, dove-ingrained armchairs.

They went through a few more potential candidates, including Penelope of Sparta and Ctimene of Ithaca. Neither god was very impressed by her choices, but just as Aphrodite was about to move onto the next candidate, Poseidon held out a hand.

“Wait a moment,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “Who is that in the back?”

“Oh?” Aphrodite asked. She returned to the image of Ctimene. She was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, her veil fluttering in her wake as her handmaidens walked with her. They seemed to be exiting some great ruin, but on closer inspection, the gods could see men at work. They were building a great palace, it seemed.

Well, great by the standards of mortals.

Behind Ctimene, a bare-chested young man held out a hand and seemed to be directing a group of others. Aphrodite’s mirror rippled and showed them the young man in greater detail, leaving young Ctimene out entirely.

“Oh,” Zeus said.

Aphrodite concealed her eager smile, more thrilled than ever at this sudden twist. She examined the young man’s features, including the sharp angles of his nose, his dense locks of dark brown hair, and his high cheekbones. He bore a striking resemblance to Ctimene. As the goddess of love, there were a few other details Aphrodite could parse out just by looking at him, but she would conceal her thoughts for now.

She said, “Why, that would be none other than King Odysseus of Ithaca!”

Though the young ruler was about the same height as his sister, he was no slight-of-frame weakling. His broad shoulders complimented his strong chest and arms, certainly the build of a warrior. His stomach was a flat plain and below his garments, well muscled thighs teased them almost playfully.

A pale scar ran along the inside of one of his thighs, but it only added to his character. Though Poseidon maintained his interest, Zeus scoffed.

“King, you say?” Zeus nudged his brother, “You know what that means.”

Poseidon was still appraising Odysseus’ thighs, “Plenty of whores in and out of his bed?”

“Actually!” Aphrodite said, clapping her hands, “You’ll be beyond pleased to know that young Odysseus here… is virginal.”

Now that had both gods’ attention. The King of the Gods seemed incredulous.

“How old is he?” Zeus asked.

“Twenty years, my dearest king.”

“And he’s still a virgin?” Poseidon asked, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. “Why? Is he stupid?”

Aphrodite giggled behind her hand, “He’s determined to save himself for marriage, like a maiden! But it can’t be helped. I do believe he’s Athena’s pupil, after all. And I’m sure she holds him to what she perceives as a high standard.”

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, “Whatever the case may be, he’s remained celibate thus far. Perfectly ripe and ready to be plucked, if you would.”

The gods of the sea and sky shared a look.

Zeus said, “Show us more.”

Aphrodite was more than happy to do exactly that. She waved her hand and the stationary image of Odysseus began to move. There was no sound to accompany the vision, but all three of them remained silent as they watched Odysseus work.

He carried multiple rucksacks full of supplies up the spiral staircases of his house while other laborers stopped to eat their dinner. He seemed more than intent to get somewhere, not stopping until he came across a large bedroom with the roof still letting in sunlight in a few patches. Interestingly, while the bed was large and well made, it lacked a mattress or rug thrown over the rungs. Perhaps that would come later.

Odysseus hopped out the window, seemingly ignorant to the fact there was a steep drop right below him, as he grabbed hold of a tree bough and climbed into the roof. It looked like he was intent on using every last bit of sunlight to his advantage as he finished laying out the clay shingles.

The sweat across his body glistened like stardust as the sky above him glowed with the most beautiful shades of red and gold. He put his strong body to use by covering the few bare patches of his rooftop, stopping only to retrieve a shallow clay bowl from his pack, filling it with oil and floating a wick on top before igniting his lamp to give him a bit more light.

Zeus snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hermes was fluttering at his side.

“Yes, Father?”

Without taking his eyes off of Odysseus, Zeus said, “Contact Helios. Tell him to wait a while longer before dusk arrives.”

Hermes spared Odysseus a brief glance before nodding and flying off. Though the mortal didn’t seem to notice, the sun did indeed stop setting.

Odysseus set down his hammer to dab his sweat-soaked face with a rag. He was tiring now, but intent on finishing his job if the determined look in his eyes was any indication.

Poseidon held up one hand and curled a finger toward himself.

The hammer that Odysseus just set down began sliding toward the edge of the roof.

“Brother…” Zeus warned.

Poseidon said, “Trust me.”

Odysseus snatched the hammer before it could fall, but found himself quite close to the edge now.

Poseidon cupped his hands around his mouth and blew softly. A wind coming off Ithaca’s coast kicked up, carrying the salty scent of the ocean with it. As Odysseus stood with his hammer, he raised his other hand to shield his eyes from the sudden gust of wind that ruffled his hair and clothing.

Aphrodite’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing the game Poseidon was playing. She added her own flare as well, using just the slightest twirl of her finger to undo the belt holding young Odysseus’ garments in place.

The poor young king seemed baffled by his sudden misfortune, moving swiftly to capture his garment before the wind could steal it away. Aphrodite froze the image without being told to do so, but she was quite proud of her timing.

Odysseus stood in all his mortal splendor, revealing his tan skin scarred by past adventures. He was healthy, with the body of an athlete and his arm outstretched to better display the toned muscles under his skin.

“What a surprise!” Aphrodite said with mirth, tracing her finger along the surface of the mirror, “Look at his little dimples!”

Indeed, a twin set of dimples rested over his lower back, no longer concealed by his clothing. But that was not all. Some men were cursed to be rather flat in their rear, leaving them looking awkward or incomplete at times, but Aphrodite was equally pleased that Odysseus had something worth looking at below his dimples. In addition to the well-defined muscles in his shoulders and back, he sported the most grabbable bottom.

If Odysseus was not doomed to be the plaything between kings, Aphrodite might have been tempted to take him for herself.

She held out her hands as if Odysseus was nothing more than an exotic animal on display. Poseidon was leaning forward in his chair, his head tilted with interest. Zeus, too, seemed sold at last. His golden eyes sparkled more brightly than usual as he traced over the little king’s backside. He ran his tongue over his teeth.

Aphrodite smiled, “So, my dears… what do you say? Is Odysseus of Ithaca to be your judge?”

...

Read an excerpt of Chapter 2 here!

#epic the musical #epic odysseus #odysseus of ithaca #zeus epic #epic poseidon #poseidon x odysseus #zeus x odysseus #Odysseus: haha I'm in danger #also instead of Penelope unraveling the shroud...#it's Ody tearing apart his palace to delay his wedding until he can trick the gods into leaving him alone #For the Fairest AU

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angelfishe · 5 months ago

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>> 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

>> Prince scaramouche x reader ( manhwa AU )

You were suddenly reincarnated or transmigrated to one of your novels as one of the villainess of the story, using your knowledge of the novel and world you will find a way to escape your original fate and live

Drawing by @asagizuisen from insta

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Inspired by @iceunhie fanfic

<< scaramouche pov >>

You were isekaid into one of your favorite novels as one of the villainess that was executed by the male lead thru hanging due to the crimes they committed towards the female lead.

The villainess that you were transmigrated was a high ranking noble of the nation of inazuma and was Destined to marry the male lead and was jealous of the female lead due to them being the center of attention of the male lead.

Originally the villainess and male lead was childhood best friends and they were arranged to marry each other once they reached adulthood.

The male lead known as kunikuzushi or in other words scaramouche was the prince of inazuma and was Destined to marry the villainess known as yuki, a high ranking noble of inazuma.

Yuki was executed due to her hiring assassin to assassinate the female lead who was very much already infatuated with kunikuzushi.

Now you suddenly have isekai in the body of yuki, you use your knowledge of the novel and the world to change the course of your fate.

Since you reincarnated before the story started it gives you enough time to change your fate. At first you befriend the kunikuzushi and get closer to the other important side characters like guuji yae and the shogunate, kunikuzushi mother And before the start of the story you would fake your death and escape to another nation

You and him would spend time together, by you giving him advice and as well taking him towards inazuma city to have fun while skipping his lessons.

This gave you a reputation amongst the nobles of inazuma as an untamed and undesirable young lady as well giving you a clan a bad name, every time you went home you would get a lecture from your parents as well a beating by a wooden stick but it never stops you from visiting him and taking him outside to spend together.

At first you don't get along with the shogunate but after a confrontation about kunikuzushi you ask her to spend time with him since he's been wanting to spend time with her, by miraculously you manage to convince her and now once a week she would spend time with him.

Guuji yae or yae Miko was interesting for you, she seems to be interested in you even helping you. By teaching you spells and enchantment. You think she's actually glad you are here to make kunikuzushi happy.

You and him would spend your time together 24/7, sitting under the cherry blossom, having lunch together and study together. One time you and him were at a cliff looking at the sunset and he intertwined both of your hands and made a promise that he promised to be the best husband for you and he sealed this promise with a kiss.

Recently a rebellion started amongst the nation and watatsumi causing war inside the peaceful nation, this is your cue to leave since the story started at the middle of the war and was stopped by the female lead. And the villainess was executed due to giving information towards the rebellion. You manage to get a hand of the leader of the rebellion with divine priestess kokomi to assist you with your fake death.

You had everything in plan one of the previous events before the story, the Shogunate will give a speech and kunikuzushi and you will be in the background and some watatsumi soldiers ambush the speech. This is the perfect chance to fake your death.

The plan is ready, you put a bag of fake blood under your expensive kimono and you met with him, kunikuzushi was star struck by your outfit as if he was admiring the most beautiful flower in the world. Before the speech you hug him knowing this will be your final interaction.

In the middle of the speech as expected watatsumi soldiers appeared and started to attack, and one of them throw their spears at you and it manages to pierce you and the bag of fake blood that you were wearing creating an image of you being stab, the good thing that the spear didn't hit any vital spot so you can heal the injury by using magic. And your body falls down and the fake blood creates a puddle giving an image of death in front of the people.

Screams emerged from the crowd and kunikuzushi saw it all, his entire world slowed down when the spear pierced you, before he could approach your body he was dragged by guards to escort him to a safety, he struggled against them wanting to get towards your dead body screaming and crying asking to be let go against the guards with tears running down his eyes.

Meanwhile your body was taken by the watatsumi island, where a boat is ready for you to go to liyue far from the nation as possible you thank kokomi and get in the boat to go to liyue.

You managed to settle in liyue, you still felt bad about leaving kunikuzushi but it's for the best he will be happier with the female lead. You heard news about inazuma that's been non-stop plagued by thunderstorms and rain.

As well hearing about the prince there, being a tyrant his soft heart has turned cruel punishing anyone that dares to speak to him as well training non stop. As well known being included in the fight against the rebellion by leading armies of soldiers in the front line.

Back at inazuma, kunikuzushi at night after training and strategizing he would visit your room and hug your kimono and cry himself to sleep. As well promising revenge for you and bringing your dead body back from the watatsumi.

He aligns himself with someone named the doctor one of the harbingers of Snezhnaya who has the ability to bring back the dead as well a master of black magic, he has been learning black magic from him to find a spell to bring you back to live all he needs is your body so he can finally have you back and he won't stop until he finds you and have you back so you and him can embrace again and married like he promise. Death will not do you part

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imviotrash · 2 months ago

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Woop woop another character sheet for my AU :3

And yes it is our dearly beloved. He's not super involved in the main plot but oh my god I have so many ideas for him.

Also, good thing about the 100 years later AU is that AGNI WILL LIVE! RAAAAAAAAAAAA

Yapping and old art under the cut:

Left: my first design. I wanted to give him a very fun vibe but I kinda failed in making it look remotely flattering. I think I did much better to encompass that travel/fun/filthy rich vibe I wanted to go with.

Right: another character sheet. I love the pose but idk what I was doing at that point. I quite like the current pose and colour scheme I picked for him, it seems to encompass most of what I attempted to do before.

Left: I my attempt of drawing the red house. It was certainly an attempt

Middle: some school uniform showcasing! The students can pick their own jacket if they wish to! I'm probably gonna give those two some new jackets though!

Right: as for all characters, a lil bit of an outfit mix. I really like his "going out" outfit

Well, you've seen Maurice's side of the room, here's Soma's! Very cozy I'd say and a lot less unhinged.

In this AU I focus on Soma's and Maurices "friendship" of sorts. It's complicated and messy of course. Maurice has to learn how to get his shit together and Soma has to learn to not take everything thrown at him.

Maurice reminds me a bit of Soma at the beginning of the manga. Entitled, aggressive and idealising someone who is...just a person. We've only seen them interact briefly in cannon, but I believe their dynamic could be interesting, if developed more.

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #vio speaks #somaasmankadar #soma asman kadar #kuroshitsuji season 4 #kuroshitsuji fanart #vio draws #maurice cole #prince soma #100yrslaterau

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infinity-or-oblivion · 3 months ago

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heyyyy realm nation I have an au for y'all: arranged marriage foolhalo. now hear me out I'm thinking longgggg history of conflict between warring kingdoms (think montagues and capulets) I'm thinking fundamental moral differences that make peace nearly impossible I'm thinking innocent people caught in the crossfire and most of all I'm thinking doomed yaoi. foolish and bad hate each others guts so intensely and somehow have so much in common and I just think forced 'romance' is so fun. anyways foolish is the eldest prince of his family which includes ros and owen and clown and tango and perhaps sneeg and phil and then bad wants to strengthen their kingdoms alliance so he marries foolish except they HATE each others guts and bad’s kingdom/family of pili and pangi and hannah and baghera all keep attacking foolish and his family

okay so that was my initial idea and then I started thinking about the kingdom of fools found family dynamic (because I watch almost exclusively ros pov btw) so here's my pitch: eldest prince foolish and his siblings are Owen, clown, and ros. that’s all i really want tbh BECAUSE LIKE THE DYNAMICS ARE SO GOOD I WANT SOME FAMILY CONFLICT THAT IS ULTIMATELY ROOTED IN LOVE IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR

so like: middle child that often feels slighted owen, sometimes feels threatened by more talented clown, foolish who cares about all of them so much but he’s stretched thin and can’t do everything himself, and of course. clown and ros my beloveds, baby of the family ros, and all of her brothers love her and feel very protective of her. but sometimes she feels like she doesn’t add as much to the kingdom since she’s more of an artist than a fighter, and also others see her as a weak point, and sometimes she doesn’t get the support and validation she needs from her brothers (except clown??) and of course then there’s clown. he’s got weird eldritch shit going on, something about messing with the magical and ethereal that he becomes intertwined with it, also some ctechno-esque feelings about only being seen as a weapon/tool for others, ANYWAYS I love tr!clown wish he would FUCKING STREAM MORE. rotating them all in my mind like a rotisserie chicken

but like ive been thinking about that time foolish and ros went on a fishing trip after foolish came back from the dead and how good that was and I'm also thinking about the low-key jealous (??) vibe Owen has going on all the time and of course I'm the number one clown and ros fan so yeah. I can't stop thinking about them teehee

and tango is probably a trusted advisor to foolish or something along those lines, as well as sneeg (sneeg and clown divorce canon???? must've been the wind...)

and then on the red/green side there's bad as the king/whatever patriarch, with pangi as his nephew or something like that idk, and then pili is an assassin pangi somehow befriended that hangs around all the time and won’t leave. and also has/had some sort of insane situationship with ros?? also hannah and pac as trusted advisors and the rest of red team as other mercenaries/hired hands (architect sausage, pirate baghera, etc). and let's not forget that pangi and pili have some sort of insane doomed yaoi thing going on too, they truly are the most dysfunctional found family

and with blue, there’s tubbo, cpk, kind of phil and beky and coy and scott (??) and of course aimsey. oh my god tr!aimros is fucking insane, ros is having a Rough Time and foolish is really good at supporting her even though he doesn’t always have time or really get what the hell is going on with ros and aimsey. anyways tubbo is an old friend of foolish, gets along great with ros, and his ex-husband is ‘friends’ with pili. so that’s great. (huge fan of tr!Tommy just kind of being there and annoying tubbo from time to time very in character for him). and tubbo, aimsey and cpk are canonically brothers I don't make the rules, beky is silently recording everything and judging everyone, coy is just trying to build a cool farm and keeps getting pulled into drama

anyways. there's my concept and I keep trying to write something but I can't figure out how the fuck to go about it, so I figured someone else might like the idea. godspeed soldiers

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naffeclipse · 5 months ago

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Ok If you two lovely, talented and hot pieces of amazing human beings don'tmind i have some questions for you and @jackofallrabbits! I'm curious How would the boys from Charm Brought It Back would react to y/n having tattoos? I'm just imagined them being enamoured about seeing the various patterns on their skin? I am myself a bug fun of Celestial themed tattoos ( Sun, Moon, stars) but also I have a little dear napping on my side. I'm just curious what would they think about them.

Also how would they reacto to Y/n changing their hair colour? Or any piercings?

I'm really hyped about the concept of characters getting to know the world and new standards around them.

Do they like music? I keep thinking about it how music is such a big part of my life, and how back in old days it wasn't so easy to have it! We have music in shops, buses, hell! We have it in our pocket all the time, from classical music to newest pop piece. And before to hear some music you had to wait for some festival or an event in a tavern you would see it as a luxury. So I wonder how would they react to Y/n showing them it on the phone. Or just Y/n swaying in the kitchen singing to the instruments

I love your Au! You both are incredibly talented and I'm feeling like you are unstoppable together haha!

Love you, have fun creating those masterpieces and thank you for sharing them with us!

YOU'RE SO SWEET! Of course, ask away!!

Tattoos would fascinate the witch boys! Sun especially enjoys art and would find Y/N just lovely with all the ink on their skin. He'd love to trace the lines of the tattoos while admiring his bride. Moon and Eclipse will kiss their tattoos and let Y/N know how pretty they are. If their bride is willing, Eclipse would like to add some tattoos of his own design of little sigils to keep them safe from harm.

Piercings are very pretty as well to the boys. Changing hair color is so fascinating to them and beautiful. They would love to see their colors on their darling love if that's the case!

Oh, the boys adore music! Sun especially since he's a dancer. He would love to sway and step to any music playing—even in a grocery store. Moon loves music more. He was always on the outside of festivals and celebrations, and the faintness of the music made him yearn for more. Now that Y/N shows him all kinds of music just from their strange little device, he can play everything he likes while he's cooking soup! His singing voice is also very lovely, and he will sing away. Moon will join in on any song that Y/N happens to be singing and he'll ask for a duet even if Y/N is terribly shy about it.

#charm brought it back

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hermesserpent-stuff · 5 months ago

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Lowkey in love with an x men evolution star wars au ide a that's been bouncing for a while.

The real question is if I should keep mainline starwars characters or not. (I've done it before. Could be fun to have a young obiwan. ) its set pre pre pre clone wars and pre episode 1

So the idea goes like this:

Remy is a young Padawan. His master is jean Luc who is a Jedi shadow: a master of getting info. Whose been training Remy in all the sneaking and deception and the disguises. Remy is 9, very young but really skilled. He has his mutant powers plus the ability to pick up emotions left on items when he touches the item with his bare hand. His eyes startle a lot of force users as they look like those of a dark sider. But he's not fallen or dark side or sith.

Jean Luc also trained Jedi knight Henri making Remy and Henri Padawan brothers.

While on a observation mission that was supposed to be safe!!! Their ship is blown up and crashes into a moon and a planet. Remy ends up on the planet and the master apprentice bond is gone. He freaks and immediately starts trying to get home. But they were knocked far off course. He gets captured by slavers and then hauled to a different region of the galaxy.

Creed is a madolorian bounty hunter. He technically is with the true mandolirians but has not entered battle. He would have joined death watch... But he sort of likes kids. Like most reasonable Mando's do. He just doesn't want any of his own.

Until...

Well, he breaks up a slavery ring due to a job and there is a kid there with bright red eyes, mouth stained with blood from fighting that is protecting the older slaves from harm. Showing some real manda. So. Creed does what's normal and adopts the kid on the spot. Huh. No wonder his brother adopts so quick. Remy tries to bite him too but calms as Creed gets his collar and chip removed. Remy doesn't say much about where he is from but the kid gets lost looks sometimes.

Remy still has his kyber crystal, but no lightsaber casing. He builds one while with creed but keeps it secret. He thinks creed might kill him if he finds out he is a Jedi. Jedi and mandolirians are ancient enemies and being a child surely won't change that?

#hermes speaks #x men evolution #evo gambit #heart of kyber au #gambit #remy lebeau #victor creed #sabretooth #evo sabretooth #star wars #mandolarians

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raintemper · 2 months ago

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Your warrior cat designs for the rain world characters are adorable, do you have any headcanons for the au or potential other characters to introduce

thank youuu :33

Some hcs,, in terms of roles, I think Pebbles could be a medicine cat and Moon a mediator. Pebbles was found as a kitten during a flood and was taken in by Riverclan and raised alongside Moon, so they're still siblings. He was probably displaced from a human home, i don't think sphynx cats are very commonly found as strays lolol

When Pebbles was made a medicine cat apprentice, i think the clans experienced a drought and thought that it was a sign from Starclan. A bad omen, and many ostracized Pebbles because of it :((, Moon still defended him with her life of course. That's her little brother no one can bully him!!

I've already alluded that Suns finds and basically adopts Spearmaster as his son,, well, more like the rest of the clan just thinks of him as the father figure for the little guy. Spearmaster is plagued by Starclan who uses him as a vassal to voice their own thoughts ha,,,

As for other characters,, probably. I think Moon gets Rivulet/Ruffles as an apprentice. Silly bouncy little guy. Debating what Artifacer will be. Could be Pebbles' mentor, or an elder/older warrior who kind of takes him under her wing after the whole bad omen thing.

Sliver of Straw is the Shadowclan leader!!

I think Moon and Sliver would have been good friends as apprentices when they meet at gatherings and such. Maybe a little bit of a crush on both sides, but never turns into anything more on account of them being from different clans and also Sliver's clear ambition after the role of leader. Worst kept secret that the two were very fond of each other. Moon was devastated by her death.

Im not sure where Saint fits yet lol ,,,Probaby an apprentice of Sliver's that ran away for some profound reason i have not found yet.

Thanks for the ask hehe i had fun thinking about them again

#rain world #rain world au #rw lttm #rw sliver of straw #looks to the moon #rw sos #rain world warrior cats au #raintarts #asks #I might also make some alt designs for some of them that don't follow too closely to their iterator designs/colors #they're all already really colorful but i thought about neon blue rivulet as a cat and felt it was funny

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polysucks · 4 months ago

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hey! what are some of your favourite asoiaf fanfics that you've read (if you feel ok sharing)?

Say less. I came prepared. All of these links are on Ao3 and almost all are rated Explicit because I think spicy things are fun. It’s not all sexy tho. Sometimes it’s rated E for Emotions. Or E for. Like. Life things.

Well. As you all know by now, I am Sansan trash. So most of these are sansan unless otherwise declared. Oh and everyone is of consenting adult age.

A Gift by 3rdstarksistr is my fucking goat. This fic? This fic. Right here. After 15 years of browsing ao3 anonymously, this is the fic that forced me to make an ao3 account. AFTER FIFTEEN YEARS. And it’s being actively updated. This makes me lose my mind, bro. LOSE MY MIND.

Essentially AU where Sandor doesn’t leave at BoTBB and Sandor bargains with Sansa for her body to take her across the narrow sea to safety. I can’t do the story justice. It sounds bad when I describe it. But Sansa is so so soooooo sweet and eager and Sandor is like. It’s hard to describe bc he could totally be triggering to some, but it’s very evident that he cares so deeply for her health, her safety, her happiness, but on the surface? Fuckin asshole. A real Sweet and Smol girl with HUGE SCARY DOG PRIVILEGES dynamic. With some excellent plot, too, that feels very-in-world.

There’s some big loss of virginity, dubcon, and some kiiiinky ass shit here (respectfully) but genuinely love love love this depiction of Sandor. He’s so loving, but also so rough, and he cares so much. I’m trash I know I’m sorry I’m sorry.

The author truly takes my breath away. The writing is so immersive, so catered for the reader, so vivid. It reads so naturally, like the author is painting a picture for you. Also madly in love with Pate, Sandor’s squire. What a cutie patootie. I’ll buy 4, thanks.

For Rent by Gendervny of course I got rep the fucking homie! My beloved @theeironprice wrote this fuckin thramsay masterpiece (it’s ongoing). I wouldn’t recommend it if I didn’t genuinely love it. Now, a fair warning, it is not for everyone. Definitely pay attention to the tags, because this author does not fuck around. The dove’s not dead but. It ain’t sleeping. Ifykyk. (It’s a compliment I promise)

This fuckin gem is so near and dear to my heart. It is a 2004 au with some amazing pop culture references sprinkled in as a little treat for the reader. It’s like the author leaves M&Ms on each page for u to go “OOH CANDY” And it gives u a little shot of dopamine every time I promise you. It’s actually what inspired this doodle of Sansa and Arya I did that you dorks seem to love so much and it makes me microwave all of these characters on fucking repeat in the year 2004. As a 2000s kid, like, this hits so hard. So close to home in the best way possible. And once you read about Theon listening to the Smiths, it just becomes canon to you. Of fucking course Theon listens to The Smiths. What a fucking loser.

A harmless addiction by rummy_cat is just stupid fun. Point blank. Yeah, it’s a sansan modern au. Look, I’m not a modern au person. I truly am not. So if I’m recommending it, it’s worth a read. Sansa is a 20-something who purchased a piece of shit house and is way over her head with her HGTV dreams. Sandor is a poor-bedside-manner, 3-stars-out-of-five on Angie’s list handy man—who also does in-story-equivalent of Onlyfans on the side. Now imma be real with you. I’m a sucker for a romcom cliche. If there’s a meet-cute, or a situation where they’re forced to share one bed, or anything else you can picture happening in a stupid straight to dvd Katherine heigl movie? Say less im already there.

So this is one of those fics that you genuinely don’t even need to know wtf is happening in the asoiaf world like at all. It would be a lovely standalone romcom book. It helps if you know who the main players are like Sansa, Sandor, Podrick, Bronn and Arya, but everyone is kind of a loose caricature. Usually I can’t stand this shit. But they’re so endearing, and written with so much heart and humanity and it genuinely feels like a HBO style romcom sitcom thing with a lot of situational humor. Also like??? Sandor is so endearing. Handyman Sandor and sweet little shut in with a secret potty mouth and a (very mild) porn addiction Sansa is to die for. And the first sex scene? Hysterical. But also hot. And bronn IS SO CUTE AS COMEDIC RELIEF. also gotta rep my man Tony the Italian who literally only shows up for like 3 paragraphs as situational humor narrative fodder and I would genuinely lay my life on the line to protect that man. I actually haven’t finished this one so I have no idea how it ends but genuinely you will be hanging on every chapter. The author is so engaging.

Quenched by Rambo holy fuck dude. Holy fuck dude. This? This shit right here? Holy fuck dude. Cw for dubcon bc well they’re both drunk and there’s some very tasteful feet stuff (if you know me, I am NOT a feet-stuff person. Periodt.) a lovely quick little horny read where Sandor pushes Sansa’s boundaries (consensually) and they are just so sexually compatible with one another. It’s very sweet. Some really lovely horny visuals surrounding period-accurate attire (I am a SUCKER for period accurate attire)

What I love the most about it is that it’s not framed like “character A does things to character B” nah. While Sandor may be doing the bulk of the “work” 👀 the reader gets to see an equal amount of Sandor’s enjoyment as Sansa’s. I love a dynamic where partners get off to their partner enjoying themselves bc it just feels so realistic. Like have you ever been with someone you care for deeply? That their enjoyment fuels your enjoyment, sexual or platonic. That shit is REAL. this author is a PAINTER.

Nine nights by Sarah C this. Was. Soooooo. Much. FUN. It’s a “oops we’re snowed in at an inn and we have to share a room with one bed what r we gonna dooooooo????” trope that is a huge romp and a half. I loved how realistic this was. I love how the author included real life details that are period accurate. Gross little details that aren’t “gross,” but every day real life things! For example, there is a scene where Sandor falls asleep before Sansa and she’s staring at him and just kinda disappointed bc she’s romanticized everything around her and Sandor is just so real. She’s staring at him and unable to sleep and he is snoring and he rolls over and farts in his sleep and she SCOWLS AND SCOFFS and I locked my phone and kicked my feet because it was just so cute and well written and REAL!!!! SO REAL!!!!! And Sansa gets to girl talk with a side character who is also a teenage girl and she deserves that. She sooooo deserves that. We miss Jeyne in this house. also there’s a spicy public fingering scene that is just— I’m blushing like a slut rn 10/10 amazing.

A Tough hide and a tender heart is a lovely little samsa quick read that is rated G and only 800+ words. It was the fic that was attributed to my samsa doodle. I don’t really ship it, but it was so so sooooo cute to think about. This fic is essentially Samwell Tarly being just so fucking sweet as usual. Just a complete gentleman. To Sansa at the Wall. Nothing even truly happens. It’s just Sam being a perfect fucking gentleman and admiring on Sansa. Honestly will give even most hardened assholes sweet little butterflies in their belly. Like I say, not even my ship, but it’s just genuinely so cute.

And I CANNNNNNNN NOT for the fuckin life of me find this fic that tells the “real story” of how the Vale was won. It’s a total “Yeah, Visenya fucked MILF GOAT Sharra Arryn and that’s how Visenya got the Vale to surrender” fic that was. P E A K. but for whatever reason, it’s wiped from my browser history.

I hope you find some of these fun :,) I know I did. Sorry it’s so much sansan I read other things too I promise!

#askbox #fic rec #asoiaf #sansan #samsa #visenya targaryen #visenya the conqueror #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf fanfic #thramsay #theon greyjoy #Sansa stark #Sandor Clegane #house stark #house Clegane

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another-lost-mc · 2 years ago

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a/n: a continuation of this AU because there's no way they're letting lucifer & co have all the fun.

protecting what matters most | the dateables [the demon brothers]

1.4k words | sfw | gn!Reader

content/warnings: family dynamics and slice of life. fluff and angst, mention of character death and passage of time, mentions of raising children, platonic relationships with the demon brothers and dateables.

— Diavolo considers the pros and cons of allowing Lucifer and his brothers to continue visiting you in the human world after the exchange program ends. You helped lay the foundation for long-lasting peace between the realms, after all. Relations with the Celestial Realm aren't as chilly as they were previously, thanks to the glowing praise and endorsement of Simeon and Luke.

— Diavolo decides that maintaining a positive relationship with you can't do any harm. He also knows that Lucifer asking for permission for his family to visit you is only a formality. He knows they'll find ways to sneak out of the Devildom to see you whether he gives them permission or not.

— Diavolo misses you too, if he's being honest with himself. He remembers you fondly when Barbatos serves him a blend of tea from the human world, or when he scrolls through the gallery on his D.D.D. and comes across photos of you from various parties you attended at his castle. He denies those feelings at first but they're impossible to ignore when Lucifer and his siblings start seeing you on a regular basis. They return to RAD after a short weekend trip to see you and their moods are soaring. They share stories and pictures and videos with him, but it's not the same. They explore the human world with you and get to be part of your short but fulfilling life—who wouldn't be jealous?

— Diavolo contacts you personally and suggests catching up somewhere, just the three of you (of course, Barbatos will be there too). He brings up the possibility of visiting you too, when his busy schedule allows it. He ignores the shifty side-eye that Barbatos shoots him, and you accept his offer eagerly but you're worried about distracting him from his duties. His warm laughter makes you smile, and he reaches for your hand across the table and pats it gently with his own. You didn't think he'd let the brothers keep you all to themselves forever, did you?

— Uncle Dia likes to surprise your children with impromptu visits at seemingly random times. Sometimes Barbatos contacts you in advance to schedule play dates for your family and the Young Master. Diavolo holds your children's hands as he leads them through whatever amusement park or family-friendly outing he's planned. You mention casually that your children are better behaved than Diavolo is at times, and Barbatos nods in silent agreement. There are times when Diavolo arrives on his own, looking a little guilty when he explains he found a fun excursion he thinks your kids would enjoy. Barbatos shows up a few minutes later looking very annoyed that the prince managed to escape his paperwork again. It's too late for Barbatos to drag him away now; even he's not capable of refusing the sad, pleading eyes of your children begging for Uncle Dia to play with them for a little while longer.

— (Diavolo is generous with his gifts for your family. Too generous, despite your protests. Hotel Corvo suites are always available for you to use, all expenses paid for, because it pleases him to know that your family is safe and comfortable when you travel together. He collects a small amount of human world vacation properties that are also available for your family to use whenever you'd like. The demon brothers conveniently plan their own holiday to visit you when you go on vacation. Diavolo joins as well if he can convince Barbatos that they all deserve a break.)

— Your children flock to Uncle Barb (or Bah-Bah when they're very young) like little chicks. He is surprisingly gentle and mild-mannered with all of them, confident in his ability to care for them and infinitely patient with their wide-eyed wonder and innocent curiosity. When they're toddlers, he sits at a child's sized table with them and sips water from a plastic tea cup. He teaches them how to brew tea properly when they're old enough to enjoy it. Some of your favourite photographs are of him and your children baking together in the kitchen, and your youngest braiding dandelions into his hair. To Barbatos, watching your children grow up is like watching the young prince grow up all over again. Being in your family's presence is soothing for his old, weary heart.

— (You tell Barbatos early on that you don't want him to ever tell you about the future. You're not sure what he already knows and you don't want to know. He honours your request to a certain extent. There are rare instances when he shows up unannounced, usually in the late evening or early morning hours. He anticipates your heartache and sleepless nights following the tragedy or misfortune he hoped wouldn't come to pass. He makes tea and sits with you, offering you his company in silent apology for not being able to spare you that pain.)

— Uncle Sol is a menace. He is a somewhat regular visitor at your home and is always eager to lend a hand with the most mundane tasks. He insists that he likes babysitting your children if you need him to, and he's your children's second-favourite babysitter if Uncle Levi can't come over. Yours is the family Solomon will never have, and he considers any opportunity to spend time with you a blessing. He insists on helping you in the kitchen too. You try to ban him from cooking, but your empty threats fall on deaf ears. Sometimes you wake up to the smell of something wafting from the kitchen. He has the decency to look a little guilty when you find him at the stove with one of your children sitting on the counter next to him. It surprises and horrifies you that one of your children loves his cooking. (You don't know now, but each generation of your descendants will have one resilient soul who also loves his food.) Your children learn from a young age one very important rule: if a stranger is in trouble, call the police; if you or your family is in trouble, call Uncle Solomon. For all the headaches and mischief he causes, he never fails to show up when he's needed most.

— (Solomon considers your happiness and safety one of his priorities. You learn after your wedding that nearly every demon gave your spouse some version of the shovel talk, but you’re surprised to learn that Solomon did too—and apparently his was the scariest. You don’t know about all the sneaky ways he helps your family over the years, but he agreed to your one stipulation: no violence in front of the children.)

— Uncle Simmy and Uncle Luke are the best! You're genuinely shocked when they invite you to the café they opened together, located conveniently in your family's hometown. Simeon teaches your children how to cook properly when he visits, and he tells them fantastical stories loosely based on your own adventures in the Devildom. Luke helps your children make sock puppets to act out little plays they all come up with; if Simeon finds a way to include them in his newest volume of TSL, it's his little secret. You don't see the angels as often as the demons. Sometimes they invite your family to enjoy brunch at the café before it opens, or they stop by after a long day to join you for dinner. Luke takes lots of pictures and videos (since Simeon still can't figure that out himself). He shares them with Barbatos who posts them in the special group chat the demons all share for that sole purpose.

— Luke introduces Michael to your family one morning when he happens to be visiting the café the same time that you are. Your children don't hesitate to crowd around his chair and ask him rapid-fire questions about his hair and his pretty clothes and the yummy cake on the table in front of him. He looks between you and your children awkwardly, but he asks Simeon for extra forks so they can have some too. He offers a hesitant smile when he leaves the café nearly an hour later. Starting the year you meet him for the first time, your children receive holiday and birthday gifts from Uncles Simmy, Luke, and Mikey.

— (Each generation passes down old and new photos of the demons, angels and the whimsical sorcerer who cherish and protect your family. Your distant relations point to old photos of Luke, with his cherubic face and small stature, and coo about how cute he was back then. Luke, grown up now and dedicated to his guardianship of your family, blushes and smiles fondly at so many wonderful memories. The moment is short-lived and he grumbles when Simeon ruffles his hair affectionately like he used to.)

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me michael #obey me headcanons #obey me platonic #obey me x reader #gn!reader

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blizzyblitz · 16 days ago

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Broken Halos - Chapter Three

Pairing: Prince! Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Angel! reader

Warnings: Fantasy/Royalty AU, cursing, slight religious themes (reader is an angel), I think I can call this a slow burn now

A/N: This was super fun, I really like describing settings! May-Lee is my OC, and Darvin is the name of a friend's DnD character (he doesn't represent the actual character, I just stole his name). I did not expect this to turn into a cooking series, blame Dungeon Meshi

Taglist: @soft-dots @minh907

Masterlist

The palace is large and grand. You feel your eyes widen as you approach alongside the prince, his bear, and his knight. The palace is made of ivory, an expensive product from foreign countries, and the spires are topped with gold-plated tips. It sits on a large hill, and a moat surrounds it to which a waterfall drains into.

"So, what can you do?"

The prince's voice takes you from your marveling, forcing you to think about what you can do. In Heaven, you never really needed to take care of yourself; sure, you still needed to eat and drink and sleep, but there was no currency in Heaven, and you never needed to buy anything. Clothes were handed out, lodgings were free, as were food and water. Truly, you have no skills that could be useful in a human job.

"Um," you mumble, trying quickly to think of something. Sure, lying to the prince is a bad idea, but telling him that you're essentially useless is an even worse idea, especially when you're in need of food, water, and shelter. Your mind sifts through all the necessary services that humans need; sewing would take you far too long to figure out, and you doubt you could do any fighting or tending to animals. This left you with two obvious options.

"I can cook and clean." You'd never cooked in your life, but considering how many chefs existed in Heaven, both angels who learned and humans who had been chefs in life, it couldn't be that hard. Cleaning was far simpler; you understand how to organize a space and make it appear presentable.

The prince nods. "Cooking would be far more useful. We have enough maids, but not nearly enough chefs. You will join the head chef in the kitchen tomorrow." Of course he had to choose the job you understood less. But perhaps you could learn merely by watching humans, and even become decent at the craft. "Igris will show you to your quarters."

As you all cross the drawbridge, you realize that the palace was even more gorgeous from the inside. The drawbridge leads you into a courtyard blooming with brightly-colored flowers, a sculptured fountain at its center. The prince and his bear veer off to the right as the knight, Igris, gestures for you to follow him.

He silently leads you to a small building; it has the appearance of being made of logs, and you assume its the servants' quarters, but even this building is covered in a thin coat of ivory. Igris opens the door, and the building is one long room with bunk beds lined up on either side of the wall. In one corner theres a bucket that's filled with water, a bar of soap floating on the surface.

"There's an outhouse out that door." Igris gestures to another door on the other side of this one-room building. An outhouse being here shocks you; they weren't very widespread, and even though this is the royal palace, you wouldn't have guessed that the servants got their own.

"Thank you." You dip your head to Igris, and he nods as he closes the door, leaving you alone in the servants' quarters.

The door bursts open, and a girl with dull red eyes and dull purple hair pulled into a short braid down her back enters. She's wearing a black tunic and skirt with a white undershirt. "Oh! You must be the new person! I'm May-Lee; what's your name?" She walks up to you, taking your hand in hers and entusiastically shaking it.

"(Y/N)," you say. She seems . . . energetic.

"Well, (Y/N)," she says, "you can bunk with me! Nobody has the bed under mine, so it's all yours!" She leads you to the other side of the room and to what you assume is her bunk. She sits you down on the bed that's on the bottom, then nods her head. "This'll work. So, what's your job gonna be?"

"I'm going to be helping out in the kitchens," you murmur.

May-Lee's eyes seem to sparkle. "You can cook?! Please tell me you'll let me try some leftovers!"

"Uh, sure."

"Yay!"

* * *

The next morning, you wake up shortly before sunrise. There's a pile of clothes on the floor beside your bed, and you assume that this is what you're going to have to wear. The clothes are a loose tunic and pants as well as apron. You quickly put them on and use the outhouse before heading to the kitchen.

The previous day you'd asked May-Lee where it is, and she said that it's located in the main palace, and you can't miss it since there's constantly smoke coming from the chimney. On the way, you try not to think about the fact that you've never cooked in your life and are going to have to learn, really quickly, how to cook good food. You're cooking for royalty, after all.

The kitchen has an outside entrance so servants don't have to go through the main palace; it's just harder to get to that way. As you enter, you notice that the kitchen is a relatively large room, with bowls stored on one wall, a stove on one side of the room, and a bucket full of water. There's a bowl of ice with various meats, wrapped cheeses, and bottled milks and wines laying on it, and baskets filled to the brim with fruits and vegetables. There's another basket filled with paper wrappings of what're most likely various foreign spices and herbs.

"You must be the new one." You yelp at the sound of a voice; turning, you see a short man with pointy ears and a long beard.

"Y-yes," you answer, fidgeting with your apron.

The dwarf sighs. "I've been the only cook here for years. It'll be nice to have an extra pair of hands. The prince and princess requested steamed salmon for lunch today, so let's get to it."

"What about the king and queen?" In your short time in this land, no one had mentioned a king or queen; it was only ever the prince and princess.

The dwarf flinches, looking around before answering you in a low voice. "The queen has been in a coma for years, and the king disappeared even longer ago."

You blink, not expecting that answer. Clearly the dwarf is uncomfortable, so you decide not to push the topic any further. "(Y/N)," you say.

"Darvin."

Steamed salmon, huh? That's what Darvin said the prince and princess want, so that's what you two will make. You walk over to the meat bowl, picking out the one fish laying on the ice. "Do you know how to cut one?" Darvin asks. You shake your head, and he motions for you to hand him the salmon. You do so, and he slowly teaches you how to prepare a fish. "Now we steam it; grab a few spices to put on."

You don't know what goes good on fish, and you don't know what kind of flavors the prince and princess prefer. Probably not salt; the fish came from the ocean, so it'll be salty enough. You quickly sniff over the basket; even after leaving Heaven, your heightened senses had been retained, which would be useful in preparing food. Hesitantly, you pick out a wrapping of tiny, chopped up sprigs of rosemary.

Darvin nods his head at your choice. "Rosemary goes good on almost anything. Bring that over here."

You do so, and he takes the wrapping from you, carefully sprinkling some of the sprigs onto the salmon. You walk over to the fruit basket and pick up a lemon; from what you'd eaten in Heaven, lemons were commonly used in seafood dishes. Darvin plates the salmon, allowing you to squeeze the lemon onto it.

"The prince and princess will definitely enjoy this." The dwarf takes the pot the fish was cooked in, holding it out to you. "We can turn this water into broth for soup, then give it to the other servants. Do you think you can do that while I give the royals their lunch?"

"Sure." You have no idea how to make something into a broth, but you'll figure it out; after all, you can't let Darvin down. You need this job. He nods his head, leaving the kitchen through the entrance into the palace, the salmon on two plates.

Darvin had taken the bones out of the salmon before plating them, and you notice that there's still remnants of fish skin and meat left on them. You place the pot of water on the stove, lighting a small fire just to keep it warm. You scrape the skin and meat off of the salmon bones, dropping them into the water. You peel the lemon and drop the skins in as well, also adding a few sprigs of rosemary. After letting that heat up for a while, you place a bowl on the ground and grab a strainer. Slowly, you pour the contents of the pot over it; the water flows into the bowl, and all the chunks of leftover food drop into the strainer. You throw those into a bin to be used for compost, then take the bowl and plzce it on the countertop.

Darvin returns a short while later, the two plates in his hands. "They greatly enjoyed their lunch."

"That's good," you say. "I made the broth; I hope it's up to your expectations."

Darvin sets the plates down, then picks up a spoon and dips it into the bowl of broth. He brings it to his lips, his eyes lighting up in delight. "You have quite the talent for this! The servants are going to love it!"

You smile, a warmth spreading through your chest. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

#solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling x you #solo leveling x y/n #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x y/n #igris #tank #ocs #blizzyswritings #fantasy au #royalty au #angel au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

Text

Office Space 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Well, it has been a day, has it not?” Pine frightens you as he emerges. You pop your head up, your vision squiggly with the imprint of a spreadsheet.

“Sir,” you straighten up to see him past the monitor.

“Hmm, and when do you let out, darling? Surely Nicolas wouldn’t have you pent up on a Saturday such as this?” He makes a show of checking his watch. You give a sheepish smile and run your thumb along the space bar.

“Soon.”

“I’m sure.” His tone is unimpressed. “I did say I owed you for the tea.”

“Oh, that’s--”

“I do like to follow through and I must admit, aside from our mutual acquaintance, I am not very familiar with this city. I would not complain for company.” He twists on his heel and struts to Fowler’s office door. The knock has you strangled in the fraught silence that follows.

Pine sighs and leans on the door frame. He clucks impatiently and raises his hand again. You sink down to hide behind the screen.

“Jonathan,” Fowler greets.

“Hello, I was just packing up for the day and I noticed your lovely assistant is still hard at work.” Pine intones

“How observant,” Fowler snorts.

“Well, I think she’s due for her release and since I’ve promised her recompense--”

“Recompense?”

“Ah, yes, she has been a gracious host. You may learn a thing or two.” Pine’s chuckle sets you on edge. Even behind the shield of the computer you feel your boss’ roiling irritation.

“I forgot about you sort and your pints.” Fowler spits the last word.

“If she is so inclined, a pint is in order, but she does seem to be more of a sophisticated type, though perhaps not so much as you and your vintages, eh?”

Fowler huffs. “I thought you came for work.”

“What is work without fun? Let the poor thing go. On my honour, I’ll keep it on the up and up,” Pine insists.

Silence. “Elf, didn’t I promise you a work dinner? For all your hard work, of course?”

You’re happy neither of them can see the surprise rippled in your forehead. You wipe it away quickly and peek up above the monitor frame. You force a smile. Fowler’s icy blue eyes chill you to the bone as Pine turns with a coy crook of his brow.

“I think... yes. Um, but, er...”

“Least I can do,” Fowler smirks. “I’d hate to be rude. You don’t mind if my colleague joins us? He is new in town and all?” He looks at Pine who returns his challenging glint. For a moment, they stare at one another.

“I should hate to presume...” Pine says.

“It’s okay,” you say a bit to quickly for your brain to process. You bite down on a cringe and clear your throat, “but if you’d rather catch up, we can do it another time.”

“Sounds like a plan. My treat.” Fowler insists with a defiant tilt of his chin.

“Right, okay.” You sit back as he retreats into his office and Pine hums. You click around on your screen as you try to figure out what just happened. You’d rather just go home but it would be rude to say so.

As you double-check the autosave, Pine’s shadow comes to loom from the other side of the desk. You glance up with a sheepish smile as you sign-out and push your chair back. You bend to grab your purse from under the desk.

“Your boss has ever been a rather stormy man, hm? Though you’d have laughed to see him on my side of the pond. He mightn’t admit it but he was rather fond of a pint or two. Perhaps a bit too fond. It may just be the reason for his recent aversion.” Pine laughs and you do your best to humour him.

“I don’t really drink beer. Makes me feel bloated but I have some drinks now and again. Last night, I had some with a few friends. Nothing wild but it was nice.”

“And he made you come in today?” He tuts. “How cruel. Well, never worry, I shall endeavour to make our own working relationship less than burdensome.”

“It’s work. Really.”

You leave him to turn off the printer room lights and as you come back, he leans on your desk. He watches you with his soft blue eyes. “Old friends?”

“Some of them. We... we work in the same field.”

“PI work?” He wonders.

“Oh, no. We—we’re all personal assistants or secretaries or whatever. Couple of us met in college, others at work, a few randomly. Guess we just ended up together.” You come around the desk and seal your lips against a yawn that flutters your lashes.

“Alright, let’s go.” Fowler snaps his office door behind him as he marches out. “Remember that steakhouse I mentioned, Elf?”

Nope. You don’t think he’s ever talked about a steakhouse or anything fun with you. If you didn’t bring him most of his meals, you might think he doesn’t eat at all. He is inhuman enough that he might subsist on resent alone.

“Uh, I think so,” you lie.

“You’ll like it. Wagyu is their seasonal special.” He surpasses Pine and ushers you to the door. As he opens it ahead of you, you hesitate. It’s strange. He’s being... nice? You step outside and Pine trails, thanking Fowler as he does.

“Wagyu?” Pine puts his hand to your lower back as he turns you down the sidewalk. “I’m more inclined to a nice filet or beef wellington.”

“This way,” Fowler catches your arm and pulls you around. Pine scuffs and turns back to follow once more. “It’s close. Don’t even need to drive.”

“Mm, ever the man with all the secrets, eh?” Pine comes up on your other side.

Fowler keeps his grip on your arm. He seems to recall himself and unclamps his fingers, only to hook his arm through yours. You let him as you walk stiffly down the street. What the heck is going on?

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Fowler tosses back. He is met with another airy chuckle from the taller man.

“So long as they have good drinks, eh, Elfie? It might be a good place for girls’ night,” Pine brushes your shoulder gently.

Fowler looks over, a terse slant in his jaw, then sets his sights straight. “I don’t know, the vintage might be a bit too much for an Englishman’s taste.”

#nick fowler #jonathan pine #dark nick fowler #dark jonathan pine #dark!nick fowler #dark!jonathan pine #nick fowler x reader #jonathan pine x reader #the 355 #the night manager #series #office space #drabble #bad bosses #au

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