#black butler ash x reader

[herehavesomeheadcanons]

✨~Black Butler Masterlist~✨

It won't let me have my favorite stupid Black Butler meme, so here's just another stupid meme I found on Pinterest.

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Basic HCs (Ash Landers, Charles Grey, Aleister Chambers, Drossel Keinz, Gregory Violet)

Father to Two Children (Charles Grey)

[animeyanderelover]

Could you write another lover massaging the yanderes but with Levi Ackerman, Annie, Ash, Sebastian, Yui and Angel Devil(with some sort of clothing covering him probably or another solution you can think of) ?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, mentions of self-harm in Ash's part, mentions of sexual assault and scars in Yui's part

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @shumidehiro @cachamata

Receiving a massage from their s/o

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛​Oh~? What do we have here? The level of smugness emitting from this man as soon as you offer to massage him after a particularly stressful day in the Phantomhive manor is unmatched, red eyes regarding you with a mixture of arrogance yet also fondness. This man teases you so much about your offer, especially if you didn't have the fondest opinion of him at the beginning. Still, he would never deny any physical contact with his mate, especially if his darling is the one initiating it. Still, as long fingers slowly remove every piece of clothing from his torso you can't ignore the suggestive gleam in his eyes. Quite honestly, the way he undresses in itself is almost inappropriate for some reason and the more you can't help but stare the more suggestive it seems to get. You're certainly nowhere as good as he is and for the first few moments his perfectionistic nature gets the better of him as he corrects you teasingly where to touch him to make him feel good. After a while he falls silent though and just enjoys the touch of his mate, the occasional growl of enjoyment escaping his chest which catches you off-guard the first few times.

Ash Landers

▫️​The thought of that much skinship almost has the angel feeling dizzy as soon as you offer him to massage him. You do not owe him anything at all, he doesn't mind the stress and frustration he feels with such a rotten world as he does it all for you. You actually need a good few minutes before he caves in, your impending disappointment and sadness much more painful for him than his principles. He gets quite flustered as he removes his clothes though, soon followed by a wave of shame as soon as he reveals some of the wounds he has inflicted himself when not feeling good enough for you which haven't faded away despite him healing faster than humans. Honestly, he's terrified. His heart is pounding against his chest, constantly worried that you will criticise him somehow which makes him exceptionally stiff as soon as you start. That tension remains for quite a while though soon you also notice that he's trying to stiffle groans or any other sinful sounds whenever you find a good spot. His pale cheeks quickly take on a pink hue, one he doesn't want you to see as he tries to hide his face. The moment he finally does relax he finds himself tearing up, touched by your kindness.

Annie Leonhardt

💗​There has to be an already established trust between her and you or otherwise Annie won't feel comfortable enough with your suggestion. She is in need of some relaxation though considering that she is constantly brooding over everything that has happened. Initially she denies you though after some awkward seconds of thick silence have passed by between her and you. Do not pester her too much or else she will get irritated and rude, do it the right way so that she doesn't feel annoyed. Once you have managed to convince her that she should try to relax for once and that you just want to treat her well Annie is doing her best to hide how flustered she actually is deep down behind her cold facade. Her control flips away though the more layers of clothes she removes until there is a dust of pink on her cheeks. Still, she is very tense and constantly steals glances at you once you start touching her as she isn't quite used to being so vulnerable with someone. Convincing her to relax and loosen up takes a while, all her muscles stiff as if she feels the need to be on alert. Once she slowly learns how to unravel a bit she stops her cautious glances and just silently enjoys the experience.

Levi Ackerman

⚔️​Levi struggles to be openly vulnerable after all the tragedies he had to experience throughout his life and you could almost say that it low-key scares him to reveal that much of his heart and thoughts to his darling. Whilst he doesn't outright denies you when you offer him a massage there is still a long pause as you can see the hesitation and conflict deep within his eyes. He struggles with the idea of being so defenseless, of having that amount of physical contact he probably hasn't experienced since he was a baby and held in the arms of his mother. Needless to say, he's awkward and conflicted even once he complies. There is that fleeting look he gives you once he unbuttons his shirt and reveals his battle-damaged torso to you as if he wants to gauge if there is any hint of shock or unease on your face in which case he would instantly stop this idea. He flinches the first few times you touch his body before he forces himself to stay still yet it still takes him quite a while before he slowly allows himself to relax a tad bit more and to loosen up his tense muscles. It's a strange sensation though, a level of comfort he isn't quite used to as he just bathes in the soothing silence between the two of you.

Komori Yui

💎​Normally Yui latches on to every bit of affection her darling gives her, especially after everything she went through. However, she is quite hesitant when you ask her if you could give her a massage. There a bite marks all over her body from whenever someone from the Sakamaki or Mukami brothers sucked her blood against her will and it elicits feelings of shame and insecurity awake within her. She's worried that you may find those scars ugly which is why she finds herself having a hard time agreeing to it. It needs reassurance from your side until she agrees. There are still doubts within her mind and even though you assure her that she doesn't need to feel pressured Yui does as you tell her simply because she is deep down scared that she'll lose you otherwise. Trembling fingers still give away how much she is still in distress as she undresses even if she does her best to act like she is fine with it. None of that fear is directed against you though which is why she is begging you to continue whenever you ask her if it's really alright for her. She feels bad for the way her muscles tense and tremble even after she finally relaxes, her body finally recognising you as her safe haven.

Angel Devil

👼​Angel Devil finds himself tilting his head, expressing some concerns regarding his abilities to steal the lifespan of those who touch him. Some part of him is still mildly interested to know what massage feels like as he has heard occasionally about all the therapies and the advantages of it. Now, ususally he isn't a fan of being ordered around too much due to his lazy nature but he makes exceptions for his darling. The only thing he insists on is that you cover your own hands as well as his back to avoid any skin contact. Honestly, he has zero ideas of what to expect despite what he has heard in the past as he just lays down, putting an amount of trust in you he very rarely grants other people. The sensation of being touched, even if only through layers of clothing, in such unfamiliar and intense ways catches even him by surprise though for the first few moments. As soon as he has categorised the sensation as pleasant though he lets you carry on whilst he just enjoys the fact that he has to do nothing at all and can just enjoy this massage. Angel Devil finds himself more than once dozing off between sessions, lazy eyes opening before closing once more.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could i request yandere sebastian, claude, and ash with floyd from twst reader? They look the same in human and merform and has the same personality.

I'll do two 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Floyd Leech Reader | Yandere Black Butler

From another world and an eel-mer person, you’re never one for abiding by the rules. Fun is what you’re after and what you find fun includes man-handling the ones you’re pointed to. Which happens to work for you in the slums of London where plenty of people need squeezing. Luckily you’re twin, the talker, has the pills that allow you both to keep your human appearances….for now. The best thing to do is stay where the fun is considering they also happen to have the mysterious ingredients needed to keep you and your brother walking: 

Sebastian Michaelis

“Ayyy! So you’re the one they want me to squeeze? This is gonna be fun!”

While ultimately you’re no match for the demon butler

But you certainly give him a run for his money

Magic-powered eels aren’t exactly his typical foe

Nor do his opponents stop mid-fight to whine about being bored

“Ugh, I wanna go for a swim. This is boring!”

“I can make things more interesting for you if you like.”

“Eh?! Doubt it Sharky. You’re not fun to play with.”

Once he realizes that you’re becoming the only thing on his mind 

He can only wish to appease your ever-changing moods

Hoping that you’ll give him the time of day

Which unfortunately means stopping whatever work he’s doing to ‘play’ with you

When you nonchalantly let it slip or reveal your eel-mer form he’s already thinking of ways to lock you up in a tank

The only problem is your undetermined mood

And your twin….that’s oddly reminiscent of himself

Who seemingly has it out for him with that stupid smile always on his face

He hopes that’s just their typical expression and not a cocky grin

Otherwise, there are plenty of circuses that’ll want a mermaid or even better a mermaid corpse

“I hope we can get along in the near future. After all, it’d be for (Y/n)’s best interest.”

Ash Landers

“Stop! Chasing me!”

“Come on! Come on! Don’t be scared! I just want to squeeze ya!”

“You broke that man’s spine!”

Love and crippling fear is a thin line for Ash

With his warped view of humans, he sees you as a…work in progress

You’re not human, 

you intentionally bite others without knowing where they’ve been

And delight in hurting others 

Granted if he points you in the right direction you can be somewhat helpful

“Nah I don’t wanna squeeze ‘em anymore.”

“But you said you would!”

To him, you’re just so frustrating 

But he can do it

You're rehabilitation is going to make all the pain worth it

He’s going to have an even bigger problem when your twin gets in his way

“Blleeeegh!!!”

“They said they're not all that interested in helping you at the moment.”

“What!? But they just told me to-”

“They. Are. Not. Interested.” 

Oh he’s going to love cleansing this world of such a nosy twin

[daintywristsandheavyheart]

HAIIIIIIII!

So could I please have some dating and wedding headcanons with Sebastian, Ash, and your version of Lucifer from our rp? <3

Thx so much luvvie, you're the best! >w<

Hai! Of course luv<3 @spade-writes-things

Kuroshitsuji Dating+Wedding Headcanons!

Characters featured:

-Sebastian Michaelis

-Ash Landers

-Lucifer (Kuroshitsuji OC)

Sebastian

Dating:

Dating Sebastian would surely be one hell of a ride

Be prepared to have him be really, and I mean really protective over you, after all, you're just a fragile human

He'd actually show alot of affection and love around you

My guy is really romantic! He'd do anything to keep you happy, take you out to the finest dates and places etc.

Sebastian would always be awake before you to prepare you a nice breakfast

He'd remember every little thing you tell him and ever told him - sometimes it's scary that he knows what you say before you even do so

He'd not be huge on gift giving but on your birthday and other occasions, he always makes sure it's personal and has a meaning to it

Calls you love or darling

He prefers to big spoon you

long. slow. kisses.

Wedding:

Black themed wedding all the way

Would even teach Bard how to bake a Wedding cake (He'd fail, so Sebastian bakes it last minute)

You'd have silver engagement rings that would be adorned with small black gemstones

small wedding, guests would be Ciel , Meyrin (she'd be so jealous of you), Bardroy, Finnian, Tanaka (who would do the ceremony ) and Lizzie.

Lizzie would adore how cute you look and tell you atleast 50 times that night

Oh yes, you'd marry at night

Sebastian would be MESMERISED by your look

Ciel:" My two best servants are getting married "

Lizzy: "Isn't that just adorable Ciel?"

Ciel:" I suppose it is, but don't you dare to let your work go down just because of this marriage"

Ash Landers

Dating:

phew- how will I start with him?

He's overly religious, you know that, so if you aren't...Good luck-

he's a yandere .

Your his posession.

"My little Dove"

Sees you as art, can't believe how a mortal being can be so beautiful

Reminds you of your beauty alot (Will get angry if you doubt yourself)

He can be manipulative tho- (he just wants to protect you from all the evil in the world)

He'd only be intimate with you if he knows he is truly into you (he's shy, ok?)

He wouldn't be one for dates, he'd rather have him and his partner be alone and talk

He can't stand to see you cry and he will "purify" everyone that has ever harmed you

forehead kisses. back rubs.

He literally worships you

He'd pray every night that you aren't just a dream, but in fact his

Let's you play with his hair

He loves to make you gifts

Wedding:

White themed, white dress, white cake, white flowers

He'd gift you a bouquet of white roses

Your rings would be golden with a lilac gemstone

religious wedding

His kiss would be soft and gentle almost holding the promise of having you forever

Big wedding, he'd invite all your relatives and every angel he had ever been close to

Lucifer

Dating:

He is really affectionate, always has to hold you or tell you how much he loves and needs you

A goofball during some intimate moments tho-

He'd read you stories or sing to you when you can't fall asleep

Kissing along your jawline>>>

He's the little spoon, even demons need some love

Calls you his Lady, despite the contract, he'd do absolutely anything to make you happy

He loves seeing you smile for him, it makes him feel human

Please teach my man how to control emotions,he will literally be so confused on why suddenly he feels so jumpy when he's around you

gets excited very easy

physical touch>>>

Has a habit of scooping you up and carrying you around

His favorite activity with you would be picking flowers and laying in the gardens with you, handcrafting crowns

"My Queen"

he'd teach you how to fight in case he can't protect you at one point-

At some point he'd believe he has a heart, he just adores you so much

Wedding:

He'd love for you to wear a red dress

would pick up a bunch of flowers from the gardens to gift you a flower crown

Undertaker would have made his suit (they're besties)

Verrryyyy expensive rings, only the best for his lady

He would want you to become immortal after this, he can't be without you (he would NEVER eat your soul)

He would cry on your wedding day when he sees you walking up to him

Kisses really passionate and longing

He loves you.

Not proofread but I hope you enjoy!

[zippidi-dooda]

Book of Harvest Masterlist

I

II - Pending

Tag

@twilightlover2007

[crybaby-writings]

this is my first time using the poll feature, despite having it for a while and i have an angst/hurt/no comfort idea, but i have no clue who i should write for.

[mo-aiki]

The Beautiful Maiden, Who Turned into a Swan - Prologue

Summary: You were a happy princess, living in a carefree life, with your best friend in the entire world, until one day, he turned you into a swan. M. Yandere Prince x F. Reader x M. Yandere Sorcerer.

Notes: inspired by obviously, Swan Lake. And also childhood favorites, The Swan Princess and Barbie of Swan Lake.

Warning: obsessive love, erratic behavior, stalking, mentions of violence, violent behavior, I don't condone it, I just write it.

You lived your best life.

As a princess of a small, rather unknown kingdom, you were your most happiest being surrounded by those you loved.

Your father was king, your mother, although dead, had high hopes for you. Your brother was young and cheeky. Everyone respected you, calling you kind.

You woke up everyday in your bedroom, getting ready, and enjoying your days in the royal greenhouse and garden, when one day, you met a boy, around your age. You were 12 at the time you met him. "Hello, my name is (y/n). What's yours?"

He didn't talk. He looked at you like you were going to harm him, and by his body language of him scooting away from you. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."

You gently got him to stand up, while you dusted the dirt off of his hair and clothes. "I'm (y/n). What's your name?"

The young boy mumbled. "...Roth..."

"Roth?"

The boy nodded as you smiled. "Roth. Would you play with me?"

You felt all alone when it came to the topic of playing. All your close friends were servants, who got tired once you played too hard with them. But Roth was around your age, right? So of course he would play with you!

For 5 years, you 2 were inseparable. Roth became a prodigy of a sorcerer. He was very talented. He could make bubbles into flowers, turn a toad into a beautiful swan, and was perfect in his defensive and offensive magic. So much so that if you didn't have guards around, he would assign Roth to guard you.

You spent your days, laughing and playing around with Roth, until one day, he had gotten more quiet than usual.

"Roth."

"Hm?"

"Do you think I'm pretty to you?" A question you would obviously ask your best friend in the whole wide world to.

"No, you are ugly."

You laughed. "Stop playing around. Am I really pretty?"

Roth closed his book. "Why are you asking?"

You laid your back against the blanket as you stared up at the sky. "Because father told me I am to be wed in a couple of months. After I turn 18."

Roth was a bit quieter than usual, but you didn't mind his quiet nature. You knew he at least listened. "Father said that the prince of another kingdom said I looked pretty in the portraits they sent of me. Apparently, the kingdom is run by one of father's bestet of friends..."

Roth opened his book back up. "Well then, he must have bad taste because you are ugly..."

You pouted in his face. "Goodness, don't be mean. He does not have bad taste. In fact, he's very handsome, and obviously, good-looking people must have good taste!" You laughed.

You didn't know that the comment you made would cause Roth to tightly grip his book.

On the early hours on the day of your eighteenth birthday, Your kingdom had burned to the ground. Running away throughout the chaos of the castle, you made it to the throne room, hiding behind the curtains behind your father's throne. Your father, there as well, donned in his armor. All you could smell was burnt, human ash everywhere. All you could hear was the curdling screams of people being burned alive from the many fires that donned the kingdom. All you could see was almost pitch black. Your father covered your ears as your eyes erupted in tears.

Mary, your maid who had cared for you like an older sister.

Aldus, the head butler, who was a kind old man, soon rearing the age where he would retire from his position.

Elric, the stableman who helped you ride your horse, Matilda for the first time.

Jocosa, the maid who seemed rather rude at first, but really cared for others, not wanting them to get hurt.

Emma, your tutor who was strict but kind and always loved you like a motherly figure.

And your little brother, Theo, who was so cheeky and mischievous.

All of them dead from burning from the fire. You could hear Theo's screams, calling out for you and your father, before it was too late.

Today, was meant to be a day of celebration. A day of joy. A day full of fun and splendid memories. But soon you snapped out of your daydream when both your and your father heard footsteps approaching the throne room. Stopping your tears, you held your breath. Not wanting the man who burned your kingdom to notice you or your father. "I know both of you are here."

You squeaked as lightly as possible, as your father got up. You shook your head, tears flowing out your eyes while doing so. Your father kissed your forehead as he hugged you tight. "(y/n), don't worry about me. I will be back before you know it..."

Your father walked out from behind the curtain as you could only peak through an opening. "Your Majesty."

You recognized the voice and the silhouette of the man. 'Roth?!' you thought. "Rothbart! Stop this at once!" your father had commanded.

There was only a silence between them as your father yelled once more. "STOP THIS AT ONCE ROTHBART!"

You could tell that your father was scared. His fingers looked like they were twitching, trying to unsheathed his sword from his scabbard. "I, King Fredhelm the II, will stop you from burning my kingdom down to ash!"

Your father ran with his sword, as he was burned. Before you could see it, you held your mouth shut, and closed your eyes, feeling your tear rushing out. You heard your father's screams as you shut your eyes even harder and covered your ears. The heat of the fire felt close to you, until you opened your eyes, to see ash all over the place, turning your head to see Roth take you in his hand and dragging you out of the kingdom.

You struggled at his grip, as he took you on horse and rode, far away from your home, as you watch it fall into a sea of flames, with the sounds of screaming waves, fading the further away you were.

You cried on the horse as Roth tried to soothe you. He wanted you to know why he did this.

It's because of you

Afraid of you running away he turned you into a swan against your will. "Your beautiful like a swan (y/n)...too beautiful."

The process was painful. As the sun slowly rose from the east, your skin felt like it was being forcefully shedding, like it burned and soon you turned into a swan by morning.

Roth smiled bittersweetly. "I had to do this (y/n). Your too beautiful, and as such, nobody can see you."

A swan by day, and a princess by night. Those tales only come out of legends, and soon you were a legend when men noticed you alone on the lake at night in the moonlight. They died that same night.

Roth killing them, and then hugging you, tightly.

And thus for the next 10 years, you were nothing more than a legend, and were being used by Rothbart, to fulfill his desires to be complete.

A/N: IM BACK!!! I will take a millennium to update this story due to school. Thank you!

[shapard]

Tantrum🕷️

Satan x Succubus!fem!reader

Tw: Smut, slow burn, therapist x client, Satan being Satan to the low life, p in v

6k

Satan is so Hot

Part 1 > Part 2

The story begins after the cut

You exhaled slowly, your breath shaky as your eyes scanned the list of today's clients. One name stood out like a drop of blood on pristine parchment: Satan. Yes, the Satan. You’d laughed when the receptionist first told you. Surely, it was some dark joke, right? But the chilling sincerity in her eyes told you otherwise. For the next month, the King of Wrath himself would be your client. His personal therapist—or "anger coach," as they called it—was conveniently on vacation, leaving the responsibility to you.

Your fingers hovered over the file, tapping lightly on the thick paper. His profile was sparse yet enough to send a chill down your spine. Anger issues. As if that needed to be stated. Brutal, cruel, unpredictable. Lies often. Has a dangerously short temper. And the last line, hastily scrawled like a warning, stood out the most: Approach with caution.

The note on your pad detailed when and where you were to meet him: Satan’s castle. Even the thought of it made your stomach churn. The clock on your desk screeched, breaking your trance. It was time.

Your palms were clammy as you left your room, dread curling around your spine. The limousine waiting outside was overkill, with its glossy black finish and an interior too luxurious for comfort. You sank into the seat, but even its plush softness couldn’t ease the knot tightening in your chest. Your fingers toyed nervously with the fabric of your shirt. "Why am I doing this to myself?" you muttered, your voice a hoarse whisper.

The drive stretched on, the limousine cutting through a landscape that seemed to grow darker, more twisted with every passing mile. Gnarled trees loomed like skeletal hands, their shadows dancing over the cracked road. The closer you got to his estate, the more oppressive the air became, thick with heat and a faint metallic tang that clung to your throat. When the car finally stopped, your breath hitched.

The castle loomed above you like a blackened wound carved into the earth itself. Jagged spires clawed at the sky, and the air was heavy with the faint stench of sulfur. The gates creaked open, revealing a procession of imps scurrying about with feverish purpose. Their glowing eyes briefly landed on you before darting away, like vermin avoiding a predator.

You swallowed hard, stepping out of the limousine. The ground beneath your sneakers radiated an uncomfortable heat, as if the very earth resented your presence. You hesitated, looking up at the fortress before you. Every instinct screamed for you to run. But you were a therapist—for Lucifer’s sake, you’d dealt with impossible clients before. Just not ones who could incinerate you with a single breath.

A small, hunched imp dressed in a tattered butler’s uniform approached, its head bowed. Without a word, it gestured for you to follow. You obliged, your legs moving stiffly as if weighed down by chains. The castle’s interior was worse. Shadows seemed alive, twisting and curling around corners like smoke. The halls were cavernous and eerily silent, save for the echo of your footsteps against the stone floor.

You were led through corridors that gleamed with wealth. Gold littered every surface, accompanied by piles of glittering jewels—rubies, diamonds, and sapphires, carelessly heaped as if they were nothing more than pocket change. It was suffocating in its opulence, but it was the odd details that unsettled you. A scorch mark on the wall, as if something—or someone—had been obliterated there. Deep claw marks gouged into the stone.

When you entered his chamber, the atmosphere shifted entirely. Heat rolled over you in waves, and the room smelled faintly of ash. Your eyes roamed over the space, catching glimpses of heavy iron chains, monstrous workout equipment, and a hulking throne that seemed carved from molten rock. And then, your gaze rose.

He was there.

The dragon loomed in the far corner, a creature of pure, terrifying majesty. His scales shimmered like molten obsidian, and his horns, wickedly curved and sharp, glinted faintly in the dim light. His golden eyes burned like twin suns, locking onto you with an intensity that made your stomach drop. His chest rose and fell with a deep, growling breath that reverberated through the floor.

"So," he rumbled, his voice a deep, guttural drawl that made the air vibrate. "You’re the replacement.”

You froze, your body rigid as his gaze raked over you. His tone dripped with disdain, his lips curling into something between a snarl and a smirk. You felt like a mouse under the eye of a serpent.

“A succubus?” he sneered, the word laced with contempt. His massive frame shifted as he lowered his head, bringing his razor-sharp teeth dangerously close to your trembling form. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of amusement dancing in their molten depths. “For a succubus, you look... innocent.”

You flinched as his claw moved, its sharp tip hooking under the edge of your buttoned shirt. With terrifying ease, he pulled you closer, the heat radiating from him suffocating.

“Sir,” you managed, your voice wavering as you fought to hold your ground, “this is… inappropriate.”

The dragon chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Inappropriate?” he repeated, his tone mockingly sweet. “Oh, little one, we’re far beyond ‘appropriate’ here.”

For a moment, the tension was unbearable, his golden gaze locking onto yours, unyielding and searing. Then, with a huff, he released you, his massive claw retracting as he settled back.

“Let’s see how long you last,” he muttered, his voice laced with dark amusement. “They always break, you know.”

Your knees felt weak, your breath shallow as you took a hesitant step back. This wasn’t going to be like any other client you’d dealt with. And as his gaze lingered on you, predatory and calculating, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into a game you didn’t fully understand—a game where the rules were written in blood.

“Let’s start with something simple—an introduction.” You tried to project confidence, raising your voice slightly to ensure he could hear you clearly. The weight of his molten gaze bore down on you, but you kept your posture straight. “Before we can trust each other, we need to know each other.”

Your words hung in the air, daring to challenge the suffocating silence. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his reptilian features. You forced a smile and continued, your voice steady despite the thrum of fear in your chest. “My name is Y/n L/n. I’ll be your therapist for the time being. In my spare time, I enjoy drawing. Now, would you care to introduce yourself?”

The room seemed to grow hotter. A deep huff escaped from Satan’s nostrils, the force of his breath stirring the papers on your clipboard. His head tilted ever so slightly, as though studying you from a new angle. “You know who I am.” His words were low and blunt, carrying the faintest edge of impatience.

You kept your expression neutral, though your heart thudded painfully in your chest. “Of course, I know. But I’d like to hear it from you.” Your tone was calm, measured, even as the edges of his form seemed to ripple with heat.

That caught him off guard. His brows furrowed, and for a moment, his eyes lost some of their predatory sharpness. His breathing, which had been fiery and erratic, grew slower, more controlled. “I am Satan,” he said at last, his voice still low but tinged with pride. “The Sin of Wrath. The first sin.”

You didn’t flinch, though the words carried a weight that pressed against you. Liar. The truth was well-known—Lucifer was the first. But you kept that observation to yourself, instead lowering your gaze to jot something down on your notepad.

The scratch of your pen seemed deafening in the charged silence.

“What are you writing?” His tone was sharper now, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. You glanced up cautiously, noting the slight flare of his nostrils and the way his claws flexed against the stone floor.

“It’s nothing important,” you assured him, your voice soft but deliberate. “Just a few notes for me. Is that okay?”

His eyes narrowed further, glowing faintly as if testing your words for deceit. After a tense moment, he leaned back, the massive muscles in his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah… I guess.”

You allowed yourself a small exhale, the pen trembling faintly in your grip as you made another note. “Thank you. So, tell me—what’s your favorite hobby?” you asked, keeping your tone light, almost conversational.

Satan blinked, clearly caught off guard again. “Hobby?” he repeated, as if the concept were foreign to him. A pause stretched between you, and then he shrugged. “Uh… I like working out.”

Internally, you groaned. Great, you thought, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. A gym bro with anger issues. But outwardly, you smiled, though your fingers tightened slightly around your pen.

As you scribbled his answer, you felt a subtle shift in the air. His gaze hadn’t left you, and there was something unsettling about the way he watched you now—curious, calculating, like a predator studying its prey. The edges of his mouth twitched, as if he were amused by something only he understood.

“Do you always write so much?” he asked suddenly, his voice a little too casual.

You froze for half a second before looking up. “Only when it helps me understand my client better,” you said evenly.

Satan’s lip curled faintly, exposing a hint of razor-sharp teeth. “Interesting,” he murmured, leaning forward slightly. His massive frame seemed to loom larger, casting a shadow that swallowed the light around you. “You seem… different. For a therapist. For a succubus.”

The word dripped with disdain, but there was an odd curiosity in his tone as well. Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze.

“I don’t think I fit the usual mold,” you replied lightly, though the words felt thin against the heavy atmosphere.

Satan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “No, you don’t. But we’ll see how long that lasts.”

The way he said it felt more like a warning than a casual remark. And as the room grew unnervingly quiet again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just stepped into something far more dangerous than you were prepared for.

“Anyway,” you began, trying to dissipate the strange tension in the air, “what do you usually do to calm yourself?” Your voice was steady, professional, but you were acutely aware of the weight of his golden gaze lingering on you.

Satan tapped his claw against his chin, the sharp tip glinting faintly in the dim light. “I work out,” he said simply.

You nodded and placed your notepad down. “Have you ever tried anything else? Something less… physical?”

He shook his head, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug. “No.”

“Interesting.” Your pen hovered over the page, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Bingo. A potential breakthrough, something to work on next week. “Maybe you should try something new,” you suggested, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction.

Satan raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Something new?”

You nodded, maintaining your professional tone. “Yes. There might be situations where you aren’t able to work out. Finding an alternative that brings you calm can help—something you enjoy that doesn’t rely on strength or exertion.”

You could see him thinking, his gaze becoming distant for a moment before snapping back to you. Then, he said it, blunt and unapologetic:

“Sex.”

Your pen slipped slightly, leaving a faint mark across your notepad as your head shot up to meet his gaze. “Excuse me?”

“Sex,” he repeated, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. “I enjoy it. Specifically, I love to dominate. It brings me a sense of calm, of control.”

The heat in the room seemed to spike as his words hung in the air, heavy and electric. You felt your breath hitch slightly, your professionalism faltering under the weight of his admission. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, a subconscious reflex as your mind betrayed you with images you hadn’t invited.

Satan, towering over you, his claws dragging possessively over your skin. His deep growls vibrating against your neck as his body pressed you into the bed like prey. The way his molten gaze would devour every inch of you, a predator savoring its prize.

The thought was dangerous, forbidden—and utterly intoxicating.

“You’re quiet,” Satan observed, a faint smirk curling at the edge of his lips. He leaned forward, resting his massive claws on the table between you. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to sit straighter in your chair, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed your inner turmoil. “Not at all,” you lied, your voice wavering slightly.

His smirk widened, the sharp tips of his teeth glinting faintly in the low light. “Liar.”

Your breath hitched again as he stood, the sheer size of him making the room feel smaller, more suffocating. He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate, predatory. His shadow fell over you, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart pounding furiously in your chest.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, velvety growl. “Have you ever let someone take control of you? Completely?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. His presence was overwhelming, his golden eyes boring into you with an intensity that felt like it could strip you bare.

“Let me guess,” he continued, his voice smooth and teasing. “You play the role of the confident therapist. Always in control, always composed. But I wonder…” He leaned closer, his claw tipping your chin up slightly. “What would happen if you let go? If you surrendered—for once?”

Your pulse raced as his words sent a shiver down your spine. The air between you was charged, thick with tension that felt ready to snap at any moment.

“I—” You barely managed to speak before his smirk deepened.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he purred, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “I can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way your body reacts to me.”

Your breath quickened, your mind a blur of conflicting thoughts. This wasn’t supposed to happen—this wasn’t professional. But the pull of his presence, the raw magnetism of him, was impossible to ignore.

As he leaned back, giving you a moment to catch your breath, his smirk softened into something darker, more sinister. “We’ll see how long you can resist,” he murmured, his voice like a promise—a challenge.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your notepad like it was a lifeline. Whatever line had just been crossed, there was no going back now. And the worst part? Some small, treacherous part of you didn’t want to.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, the ticking seconds echoing louder in your ears as you realized the session had come to an end. It felt like both a relief and a punishment. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Our time is up for today.”

Gripping your notepad tightly, you rose from your chair, the slight tremble in your legs betraying the inner conflict you fought to suppress. “I’ll see you next week?” you asked, your voice carefully measured, though the second heartbeat between your thighs throbbed mercilessly, reminding you of how thin the line was between professionalism and raw, unspoken desire.

Satan leaned back into his seat, his massive frame exuding power and ease as his ever-present smirk stretched across his face. “You’re quite interesting, you know that?” he said, his golden eyes glinting with something dark, something dangerous.

The way his words curled in the air, dripping with molten heat, sent a shiver down your spine. And then he said it—your name.

“See you next week, Y/n.”

The sound of your name, as it rolled off his tongue like a lazy threat, like a predator marking its prey, felt like fire licking at your skin. It wasn’t just the way he said it—it was the way he owned it, as if your name wasn’t yours anymore but his to use, to savor, to command.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as you fought to maintain control of yourself. His gaze lingered on you, heavy and consuming, as if he could see every thought, every reaction you tried to bury. The room felt smaller, hotter, as if the very air bent to his will.

You took a deep breath, willing the flush creeping up your neck to subside, and bowed your head slightly—a courteous gesture, but also an excuse to break free of his burning gaze. “I’ll… take my leave now,” you managed, your voice steadier than you expected, though your body betrayed you with every trembling step toward the door.

The silence stretched, but you could feel him watching you, his presence looming even as you turned your back to him. Each step felt heavier, your legs weaker, as if some invisible tether pulled you back to him.

“Y/n,” he called softly, his voice low and dripping with amusement. It was enough to stop you in your tracks, your hand hovering just above the door handle.

You turned slightly, not enough to meet his gaze but enough to let him know you were listening.

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he said, his smirk audible in his voice. “Next week… I expect us to get much more personal.”

Your breath caught, and you didn’t trust yourself to respond. With a hurried nod, you pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the hall as quickly as you could without outright running.

As the door closed behind you, the weight of his words lingered, wrapping around you like a vice. Each step away from his chamber only made the ache within you stronger, and the echo of his voice—dark, commanding, possessive—played on repeat in your mind.

When you finally reached the outside air, you exhaled deeply, pressing a hand to your chest as if to steady the wild beat of your heart. But no matter how much distance you put between you and him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still trapped—bound not by his hands, but by his voice, his gaze, his presence.

And the worst part? You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to escape.

______________________

Your mind drifted to Satan again, as it often did these days. His golden eyes, the low timbre of his voice, the weight of his presence—all of it lingered with you like an intoxicating haze. It was wrong to think of him this way, wasn’t it? You're the therapist. A being of ancient power. Yet his words from the last session whispered through your mind, sending a shiver down your spine: “Next week… I expect us to get much more personal.” What did he mean? The thought left you breathless, your lip caught between your teeth as you tried to push the memory away.

With a sigh, you turned your attention to the mirror, pulling yourself together. Today was a new session, and you needed to remain professional. No room for fluttering thoughts or the heat that crept up your neck every time he said your name. After all, you had a job to do, and you’d prepared exercises meant to calm, not... whatever this was. You brushed out your hair, adjusted your outfit, and gave yourself one last look. You could do this.

The drive to his mansion felt longer than usual, the limousine’s quiet luxury giving your mind too much space to wander. By the time you arrived and stepped out, your palms were clammy despite the crisp air. You gathered your supplies—a palette, brushes, a canvas—and headed to the imposing doors. They opened with a creak, and there he was, standing tall, his figure sharper than usual in a tailored outfit that clung just enough to his form to make you notice. Was he doing this on purpose? The thought made your cheeks flush.

“Satan,” you greeted, keeping your voice steady as you stepped inside.

“Y/n,” he said simply, his golden eyes locking onto yours. He always said your name like it was a secret, something sacred.

You set your supplies down, the clinking of brushes breaking the charged silence. He tilted his head, his gaze flicking over the items with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “What is this?” he asked, his tone edged with intrigue.

“Painting,” you said, smiling softly. “It’s something that can help channel emotions. I thought it might be worth trying with you.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but the flicker of interest in them was unmistakable. “You think this will calm me?”

“It’s worth a shot,” you replied, your tone light. “But first, I need you to… shrink a bit. Your current size might make it tricky.”

He arched a brow but complied without argument, his towering form diminishing to something more manageable. Even so, he still loomed over you, his presence filling the room in a way that made your breath catch.

You handed him one of your favorite brushes, your fingers grazing his. The brief contact sent a spark through you that you tried to ignore. “This one’s precious to me, so don’t break it,” you said with a teasing smile.

His golden eyes darkened slightly, his gaze lingering on you. “Why would you entrust me with something so valuable?” he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

“Because I think you’ll manage,” you said simply, turning to demonstrate. The truth was, you trusted him in a way you couldn’t explain, and the weight of his gaze as you worked was almost palpable.

You dipped your brush into the paint, your movements fluid and purposeful as you applied color to the canvas. You explained the process, your voice calm, almost hypnotic, as you encouraged him to let his emotions guide him. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” you said, glancing at him. “Just let it flow.”

Satan watched you intently, his focus shifting between your hands and your face. There was something mesmerizing about the way you moved—graceful, confident, entirely at ease. He tried to mimic your strokes but grew frustrated when his didn’t have the same beauty. Fire flickered briefly at the corner of his mouth as his grip on the brush tightened.

“Take your time,” you said gently, your voice softening. “You’ll manage.”

Those words seemed to echo in his mind, silencing his frustration. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. His golden eyes settled on you again, and this time, there was something softer in them—something that made your heart skip a beat.

“Pretty,” he murmured, the word so quiet you almost missed it.

You glanced up, assuming he meant his canvas. “It’s not bad for a first try,” you said, smiling.

But when your eyes met his, you realized he wasn’t looking at the canvas at all. He was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made heat rise to your cheeks, and for a moment, you were lost in it.

“I… meant your canvas,” he said quickly, the faintest hint of a stammer in his voice. He turned away, focusing on his painting as if the moment hadn’t happened. “I suppose this isn’t for me,” he added, his tone returning to its usual steadiness.

You sighed softly, setting your brush down. “That’s okay. We’ll find something else to try next time.”

When it was time to leave, you gathered your supplies, his lingering gaze following you to the door. “Till next time, Y/n,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled, bidding him goodbye before stepping into the limousine. As the car pulled away, you stared out the window, your reflection blushing faintly. “Cute,” you muttered under your breath, thinking of his fleeting shyness.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to think of him a little differently too.

As the limousine glided down the winding road back into the city, Y/n leaned their head against the cool glass of the window. The world outside blurred into streaks of light and shadow, but their mind was too preoccupied to notice. Their chest tightened as they replayed the day's moments, each interaction with Satan etched into their memory with vivid clarity.

His golden eyes watching them, the way his brows furrowed in frustration only to soften when he heard their encouragement, and that one unguarded word he’d uttered—“pretty.” Y/n sighed and closed their eyes, the image of his intense gaze surfacing unbidden. He had said it so quietly, yet it echoed in their ears, lingering like a secret between them.

Why am I letting this get to me? Y/n thought, shaking their head. Satan was their patient. A being to be studied and guided, not… admired. And yet, there was something about him—something magnetic and impossible to ignore. His raw power was undeniable, but beneath the towering presence and occasional flashes of anger, there was a vulnerability that Y/n couldn’t help but find fascinating.

When the mansion’s doors had first opened to reveal him, standing there like some otherworldly figure carved out of the very shadows of the underworld, Y/n had been struck by how human he seemed despite his demonic origins. He was capable of humor, of curiosity, and, at times, even shyness—like when he stammered over his compliment and turned away. That brief flash of awkwardness had been disarming, endearing even, and it left a warmth in Y/n’s chest that refused to fade.

_______________

The past few weeks had been a blur of trial and error as you and Satan searched for a way to calm his tempestuous nature. Every method—meditation, physical exercises, even music—had ended in failure. Yet, with every attempt, the two of you had grown closer. Comfort had crept in between the boundaries you’d initially set, a warmth that softened the edges of your professional relationship. Perhaps it was too much comfort.

Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair, tugging slightly as you let out a groan. “What’s left?” you muttered, mostly to yourself. You hated admitting defeat, but the lack of progress was wearing on you.

“Are you okay?” Satan’s deep voice broke through your spiraling thoughts. He leaned against the edge of his desk, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned your face. Concern lingered in his tone, though there was something else in his expression—something darker, more intent.

You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your shoulders sagging. “Yeah, I’m just… out of ideas,” you admitted, rubbing your temples. “Nothing seems to work. Maybe you were right all along—this isn’t going to change.”

A low growl escaped him, and he moved closer, the space between you shrinking with every step. “There’s one thing we haven’t tried,” he said, his voice a seductive rumble. He reached out, his clawed fingers brushing along the curve of your neck with a gentleness that sent a shiver down your spine. The ruby necklace he’d given you weeks ago caught the light, glinting like a drop of blood between you.

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching. “I’m open,” you replied, though your voice wavered. You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but the tension in the air was thick enough to drown in.

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, and his eyes seemed to glow brighter. “Let me please you,” he said, the words both a question and a command.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His hand slid lower, taking yours in his. His touch was firm but surprisingly warm, and you couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened. “For weeks, I’ve been thinking of you. Not just as a distraction from my anger, but as something—someone—I want to consume. Every thought I’ve had has been about how to lure you in, how to make you mine.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, your body tingling with the weight of his confession. He slipped a delicate, shining ring onto your finger, the smooth metal cold against your skin.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “I’m throbbing for you, aching to show you what it means to be claimed by me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. His clawed hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

The first touch of his tongue against your neck made you gasp, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. His other hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head to the side to give him better access as he traced slow, burning lines along your skin.

“Satan…” His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as his claws found the waistband of your pants, the sharp tips grazing your skin without breaking it.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your throat, his voice raw with need. “Tell me you want it too.”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded, your hands clutching at his shoulders as if to ground yourself. That was all the confirmation he needed.

With a growl, he lifted you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss rough and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation. His sharp teeth grazed your lower lip, and the pain mingled with pleasure in a way that made your head spin. His hands roamed your body, one clawed hand tangling in your hair while the other gripped your hip, holding you firmly in place.

You gasped as he tore open your shirt, the fabric giving way like paper under his strength. His golden eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed skin, and the heat in his gaze made you shiver. “Perfect,” he growled, his lips descending to your collarbone as his claws worked your pants down, leaving you bare beneath his burning gaze.

He pressed his body against yours, his skin hot like fire but not unbearable. The sensation was intoxicating, his power and desire radiating off him in waves that left you trembling. His mouth found your chest, his tongue and teeth teasing sensitive skin until you were writhing beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you fought to keep some semblance of control.

But control was the last thing Satan allowed. “Let go,” he commanded, his voice a low snarl as his hand slipped between your thighs. His touch was rough but precise, drawing sounds from you that you’d never made before. He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased with the effect he had on you.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. Your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the hard lines of his muscles, the heat of his body searing into your palms. His growls deepened as you touched him, and when you whispered his name again, it seemed to drive him over the edge.

He latched onto your nipple, his hot, eager tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as though it held the key to quenching a deep, unrelenting hunger. The heat of his mouth sent a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your back arching instinctively to press closer to him. Each flick and tug of his tongue was deliberate, rough yet skilled, and it drove you wild with every second.

Your hands found his horns, gripping tightly as a loud, unrestrained moan tore from your lips. The sensation of his horns beneath your fingers—solid, commanding, and so uniquely him—only heightened the intensity of the moment. He groaned in response, the vibration of it against your skin adding a tantalizing edge to the pleasure.

As you opened your mouth to say something—perhaps to beg, perhaps to curse his name—his massive hand moved swiftly, covering your mouth and silencing you with an almost possessive dominance. His palm was warm, his claws just barely grazing your jawline, a silent reminder of his power.

“Shh,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with desire and control. “No words. Just feel.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your muffled protests turning into needy whimpers against his hand. His golden eyes flicked up to meet yours, the intensity in them making your pulse race. He didn’t need to say more; the look alone spoke volumes. You’re mine, and I’m going to show you exactly what that means.

His free hand trailed down your side, the sharp edge of his claws leaving ghostly trails that tingled with a mix of anticipation and pleasure. He shifted slightly, his lips abandoning one nipple to lavish attention on the other, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you gasp against his palm.

“Such sweet sounds,” he murmured between kisses, his voice a deep, sinful growl that left you trembling. “I want to hear every single one.”

He claimed you fully then, his movements powerful and relentless as he pushed you to your limits and beyond. The roughness of his touch, the possessiveness in every kiss and thrust, sent you spiraling into a state of pure bliss. He was consuming, overwhelming, but it was everything you hadn’t known you needed.

When it was over, you were both breathing heavily, your bodies tangled together on the floor. His claws traced lazy circles on your skin, the sharp tips surprisingly gentle now.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his golden eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left no room for argument.

You smiled, brushing a hand through his tousled hair. “Yours,” you whispered, and for the first time in weeks, you felt completely at peace.

“I need to take you fully,” he growled, his voice rough with restraint, though his burning gaze made it clear his control was hanging by a thread. His golden eyes bore into yours, aflame with desire and something deeper—possessiveness, perhaps, or the primal need to claim you completely. His hot breath fanned across your face, each exhale like a spark threatening to ignite you from within.

You swallowed hard, your body trembling beneath him as you nodded, unable to form words. He stood, towering over you even in his "smallest" form, and the sound of his belt buckle clicking open made your heart skip. His hand gripped the base of his shaft, his claws brushing lightly against his skin as he stroked himself. His movements were deliberate, slow, as he smeared the slick arousal you’d already left on him along his length. The sight of it was utterly mesmerizing.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, his voice a rumble of raw need. His eyes darted to your smaller frame beneath him, the contrast between your softness and his powerful figure making his jaw tighten. Your body trembled under his intense scrutiny, and the way you shuddered only seemed to spur him on.

“You’ll take all of me,” he promised darkly, his lips pulling into a feral smirk before he positioned himself at your entrance. Slowly, he began to press in, the stretch almost overwhelming as he filled you inch by inch. The thickness of him made your breath hitch, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as your body struggled to accommodate him.

When he was fully seated inside you, he let out a guttural groan, his head falling forward as if savoring the way your body gripped him so tightly. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice laced with awe and lust. “You were made for this. Made for me.”

He started to move, his thrusts deliberate and forceful, his pace building with every stroke. The wet, sinful sounds of your body meeting his filled the den, mingling with the guttural sounds he made as he lost himself in the rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, his rough movements perfectly hitting every sensitive spot.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice thick with pride as he watched your body arch beneath him, your moans spilling out freely. “Taking me so well—every inch of me.”

His hands gripped your hips tightly, claws digging in just enough to leave marks as he pulled you into each thrust. His pace quickened, his breathing harsh and uneven, a symphony of raw need that filled the space around you.

Your moans turned into cries of ecstasy as he pounded into you harder, the force of it making your head spin. The pressure building inside you was unbearable, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. He growled your name, the sound reverberating through the air as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, his voice breaking slightly as he thrust even harder, his control finally snapping. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, your voice trembling with pleasure and submission. “I’m yours.”

The words seemed to ignite something in him, his movements becoming even more relentless. His growls deepened, and the way he pounded into you left you utterly breathless. Every nerve in your body was aflame, and as you reached your peak, the intensity of it shattered you completely, your cries echoing through the den.

Moments later, he followed, his movements faltering as he let out a deep, primal groan. You felt him shudder above you, his body rigid as he spilled into you, marking you in a way that felt both physical and otherworldly.

For a moment, the only sounds were the two of you catching your breath, the heat of his body still pressed against yours. He leaned down, brushing a surprisingly tender kiss against your forehead, a stark contrast to the ferocity he’d shown moments before.

“You’re mine,” he repeated softly, almost as if reassuring himself.

And as you lay there in his arms, thoroughly claimed and utterly sated, you knew he was right. You were his. And you didn’t want it any other way.

Saw no one making shit about him so here I am your savior. Damn y'all.

💫

Masterlist

[temis-de-leon]

Male!MC as the future king of the Devildom

Characters: Diavolo x male!MC (established relationship) with stellar cameos from Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Asmo and Barbatos

Main Masterlist

@beawesome04: Hello! I was wondering if I could request a one-shot of Diavolo reacting to being in another world where he meets the Male! Reader as the Future King of Devildom! Only that instead of the reader being the kind-hearted transfer student (Basically how MC acts in game), this Reader is a lot more serious and isolated. Hope this is good!

A/N: cannot believe that the roulette worked

.

It wasn’t the first time his eagerness had gotten the best of him, but to be fair, what else was he supposed to do when the circumstances of his life forced him to be so lonely and bored? With Barbatos and Lucifer always reminding him to do his work every hour of the day, who was he to ignore such tempting opportunities?

Plus, it wasn’t like he went searching for the mirror.

He had been merely strolling around the castle, hiding from his butler, when an old wooden door closed with a thud and left him trapped in a dusty room. Everything there had aged badly in abandonment except the mirror. It was a heavily magically charged object and its golden frame shined in the dark, engraved with creatures and symbols from the three realms that merged at the top. One of the corners showed a dragon curled around a lamb, both resting in a peaceful embrace, and he couldn’t help but think about you.

Sadly, sneaking around and having secret dates left you with an obscene amount of schoolwork, just like him, and although you always said you were aware of the consequences, he knew he should be more responsible. His burdens were too heavy to share and the last thing he wanted to do was selfishly take the time you could use for leisure.

Something changed in front of him and he finally realised that the mirror hadn’t shown any reflection until then, but it wasn’t entirely accurate; his eyes weren’t golden anymore, instead a light shade of brown, and he was wearing the generic RAD uniform. However, when he looked down, it was still red.

Diavolo hummed, too intrigued to turn around and continue his little escapade. In the blink of an eye, he switched to his demon form and although the mirror followed his movements, it didn’t change his appearance.

He turned back and stared again.

He looked human.

And just like that, as if his revelation triggered the powers of the mirror, a wave softly covered the surface of the glass and turned his reflection into a blur. A light showed in the middle while the room remained in the dark. Diavolo could only look, mouth agape and eyes open wide, as the brightness in front of him grew and slowly disintegrated the glass, shards turning to ashes before falling to the ground.

Then, in the span of just a second, the light engulfed him and he disappeared.

.

.

Powerful magic sucked him out of the room, pulling him through a suffocating white tunnel until he fell backwards on something soft, which, judging by the duvet and the pillows, was a bed.

Your bed, if he remembered correctly. How would he be wrong, anyway? It was the most recognisable room he’d ever seen. The bedding was pink and there was a tree above him; it was unmistakable.

The change of scenery brought a wide smile to his face and he wasted no time in getting up to search for you, but he was soon met with disappointment.

While it was true that you were the one who did most of the visits and he only went to the House of Lamentation on celebrations or for meetings with Lucifer, he had seen your room enough to know this wasn’t your room.

Just like his brand-new brown eyes or his black uniform, there was something familiar about his surroundings that slightly unnerved him, like the pictures on the walls. His face was plastered on all of them, mainly with the brothers, but there were some with the angels, Solomon, Barbatos and you as well. Not as many as he’d like, though, and while you looked happy in the pictures, your smile wasn’t as big as usual.

And your eyes had also changed, hadn’t they? Were your canine teeth sharper, too?

“Dia!” sang a voice from the other side of the door, making him jerk in surprise. “Are you coming out, hon’? You’re supposed to be at the castle in twenty minutes; let me see what you’re wearing!”

He stood there, unable to say anything coherent while frantically looking around for clues. There were clothes his size scattered around the room and his DDD, if that was even still its name, was charging on the table.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Asmo talked again.

“Me? Y- Yes, I am!”

“Then come out, silly, I want to see you”

“Yeah, I figured” he whispered to himself.

He was wearing the black uniform, but it was wrinkled and the shirt had partially come out of his pants. “The other him” had probably been napping before changing places. Was he in that dusty old room in the castle, then? Was he about to get lectured by Barbatos once he was caught sneaking around? His trusted butler would probably guess the unusualness of the situation, however.

Though Barbatos would probably lose his mind once he realised the prince was lost in an unknown location.

Diavolo was sure everything would be okay.

Smiling in uncontained excitement, he hurried to the table, looked at the screen and let his heart hammer against his chest as he read the messages; Lord MC was asking him whether he wanted to stay for dinner or not and he’d be crazy if he ever rejected that offer, especially in the strange circumstances he was living.

“Hey, Diavolo! Check this out!”

“Mammon…!”

The cheery demon opened the door with a slam, entering without any care in the world while flaunting a shiny black card. Asmo trailed after him with a frown on his face, but his brother wasn’t paying him or his protests any attention.

“I got Goldie back, so you better get ready to leave the house and go to the casino. I didn’t work hard to earn this money for nothing!”

Diavolo smiled back at his grin but didn’t say anything and watched instead as Asmo laughed in incredulity and mockery. Soon the room was filled with jabs and well-thought insults while both brothers went at each other’s throats, and before anyone could do anything too drastic, Satan appeared at the door and rolled his eyes at the spectacle.

“You want us to believe that you earned this money legally and honestly?”

“Why would you say it like that? You make me look like a thief!”

“That’s what you are, you useless scumbag!”

The argument didn’t show signs of dying any time soon so, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be at the Demon Lord’s castle in just a few minutes, Diavolo silently grabbed his phone and tip-toed towards Satan, who was waiting for him with a hopeless expression.

“So many years have passed and they still manage to embarrass me…” he lamented with a frown before swiftly closing the door and inviting Diavolo to walk beside him. “I thought you had plans with MC, aren’t you running a bit late?”

A wave of excitement flooded his veins at the mention of your name, but he forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t you who he had plans with, after all; it was another version of you that had every right to sit on his throne and bear what was otherwise his title. Did you have a demon form too? Were your duties as demanding as his? Were you as eager to run away from work as him? There was only one way to find out.

“I fell asleep” he ended up answering with no intention to continue. If Satan had expected a longer explanation he said nothing, but his silence was telling enough.

The Avatar of Wrath had stayed quiet because he wasn’t surprised. This Diavolo, the human version who was so similar yet different to the demon prince, overslept and wore a wrinkly uniform. He lived with the brothers and had no responsibilities other than being a good human world representative and surviving every adversity that was thrown his way.

How exciting!

They were at the main entrance before he could realise it and if he thought his day couldn’t get any better, he was very wildly wrong.

“Diavolo!” called a voice from the top of the stairs. “Where in Lord MC’s name is Mammon? Have you seen him?”

“Of course!” he answered with uncontained glee and Satan stared at him with raised eyebrows.

Although not as exhausted as his other version, Lucifer looked the same. He was even grumpy and everything! A deep frown on his face as he gracefully walked down the stairs, all the while mumbling insults and curses against the second born.

“So? Where is he? And don’t bother hiding and defending him; you know there will be consequences for you as well if you help him”

Diavolo had to bite down a giggle. There he was, his best friend, looking at him with darkness in his eyes, a mean smile and arms crossed over his chest. His words undoubtedly carried a real threat, but Diavolo was so thrilled about his adventure that he simply could not take him seriously.

“You will find him in no time, I’m sure” he laughed, leaving the eldest brother unimpressed and the younger amused. “I’m in a hurry, though. Lord MC is waiting for me”

That seemed to do the trick. Lucifer’s eyes opened wide in shock and one of his hands clutched his chest while the other hastily pushed Diavolo towards the door.

“Well, don’t keep him waiting then” he said in a scolding tone. However, once they were finally out of the house, his voice turned lower and softer. “See if you can distract him a little bit. Barbatos has been trying to get him out of his office, but you know how he is; if our friendship was closer, I would’ve tried myself, but I think that’s a job for you”

He tried not to stare in confusion, but the words had left him speechless. So far, the alternate universe shown by the mirror had proven to be one where Diavolo was in your place and you in his, so Lucifer’s plead was nonsensical in his head.

He would never barricade himself in his office for more than necessary, let alone turn down Barbatos’s advice to rest, so why did you? It didn’t make sense to see you, a human so cheerful and kind, as someone so closed and isolated; but seeing you doing so in a universe where you were supposed to fill his shoes was way, way more perplexing.

“Is everything alright, Diavolo?”

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Satan leaning over his brother’s shoulder.

They were both looking at him with worry and, thankfully, no suspicion. However, if he didn’t try to act more casually, someone would eventually figure out that he wasn’t the Diavolo they loved.

He knew very well how his version of the brothers, and everyone else for that matter, would act in a scenario where your safety was in question. He was in no hurry to discover if these alternate versions would react the same way.

“I’m fine” he said quickly, trying to downplay his behaviour. “I just didn’t sleep very well, that’s all”

That appeared to be enough for the moment.

Satan smiled and waved goodbye, wishing him a nice evening before entering the house. Lucifer crossed his arms again before bidding farewell.

“Please, do have a good time”

Then his eyes went back to the darkness.

“Rest assured, however, if I don’t find Mammon, there will be a proper punishment waiting for you upon your return”

And that time, he did feel chills up his spine.

.

.

His excitement had run down by the time he finally arrived at the castle.

While the city’s skeleton remained the same, the ambience reflected a side of the Devildom that he had never known. His kingdom was alive, full of colours even in eternal night and perpetually changing alongside those who populated it. This land, however, was muter; more elegant than casual. Every demon wore their true forms and spoke in mellow, cautious voices, blending in the dark and the breeze and moving as fast as he blinked.

It wasn’t dark or gloomy, as he saw various open stores and restaurants at full capacity, but it was certainly tamer… Conservative was the word.

Just like his Devildom showed the way he ruled as the future king, its alternate version was an obvious example of your leadership.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. Just how different were you?

He took out his phone, fingers just a tad uncoordinated due to nerves, and sighed when he saw no messages from you. You must have been used to his human version’s tardiness. There were, however, at least a dozen messages from Asmo; a mix of crying stickers and pleads that didn’t help ease his mind. He decided to read only the most recent ones.

Did you seriously leave the house wearing your wrinkly uniform?? I could’ve helped you choose something better! At least you’re already dating and you don’t have to impress him… But next time I’m making you even more beautiful! Also, insist on the foam party!! Lucifer will kill us if we do it at the HOL, but we need MC’s permission to use The Fall! And you know how he is.

And then more crying stickers.

Did he know how you were, though?

His mind went blank when the castle’s door appeared in his line of sight. There was no time to back down and he didn’t want to do it either, but would he be able to if he ever wanted to return?

Closing his eyes as he raised his hand to knock on the door, Diavolo searched for that deep root in his chest that connected every piece of his body and soul. It felt crimson and black, like coagulated blood, but also white and golden; hope for his future and his crown. While settled at the deepest end of his heart, its energy moved with tendrils; you would compare them to axons whenever he tried to explain it to you.

He searched and searched and bile went up his throat when he found nothing. His breath quickened and cold sweat covered his skin the moment he couldn’t transform into his demon form; the fear hitting him so forcefully that he felt himself grow lightheaded, falling forward against the door with his whole body.

It opened almost instantly and someone extremely familiar wasted no time in helping him stand.

“Diavolo! Are you okay?”

“I feel awful…”

The words left him before he even thought about them, but he guessed that was Barbatos’s effect on him, no matter the universe.

Gloved hands immediately straightened him, gently pushing him inside before closing the door and taking him to the kitchen, where he was seated and promptly served a warm cup of tea.

He looked up with a raised brow, showing his amazement like an open book, and received a soft laugh in return. The butler was worried about him, but Diavolo could tell he was trying to remain as calm as possible, probably not to freak him out even further.

“We thought you’d arrive sooner, so I prepared it a little while ago, but don’t worry, Lucifer warned me you were distracted by the brothers back at the House of Lamentation. And also that you were feeling a bit under the weather. Is that true? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Diavolo realised in that instant that acting casual would be an impossible feat. If looking at Barbatos was unnerving enough, then spending time with you would likely make his brain stop functioning. You were, based on what he had seen and heard so far, a solemn prince of a lonely nature, which was already too different from what he knew.

Being a magicless human with no definitive allies, he hoped the other version of you would be as wise and understanding as the boyfriend he was happily dating, but chances of survival based on speculation and trust were very slim.

Thankfully, he had the advantage of dating you in both universes. The thought alone warmed his entire body and he had to cover his mouth with a hand to hide his lovesick grin.

“I’m honoured, Barbatos” he said, trying to justify his abrupt giddiness. “Don’t worry about me, please, I’m just tired… And impatient to see MC as well”

There was a beat of silence before the demon chuckled with understanding, seemingly convinced by his answer, but Diavolo knew enough about fake smiles and his butler’s mannerisms to notice the way his green eyes had quickly scanned him from head to toe during that short second. The mixture of the blissfulness that dating you in both universes brought and the fear of being studied by a strange version of his friend was making his heart go crazy.

He asked himself, with unfamiliar horror, if the irregular flutter of his heart was audible beyond the confinements of his chest.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and a flow of fresh air entered the space.

“Diavolo, you’re finally here”

“My Lord”

Barbatos bowed immediately, an arm over his chest and another behind his back. You tilted your head in acknowledgement before observing your surroundings with contained curiosity, surely searching for what was taking so long. Finally, after finding nothing, you turned around and gave Diavolo a small smile.

He could barely return the gesture in time.

“I was about to go search for you, my Lord” said the butler with a polite expression, briefly looking at Diavolo before centring all of his attention on you. “It seems you were faster; I apologize”

“You were hosting my guest of honour, no need to apologize”

“Allow me to do so, sir”

“Very well, then”

The reflection of a mirror was not oneself. It was an image in reverse, only similar to reality on the surface.

You were there, but it wasn’t you.

There was no shine on your eyes, nor smile wrinkles on your cheeks. The red uniform looked unnatural on your body, more like a costume than a formal attire, and the way you stood in the middle of the room made him frown in discomfort. You looked regal and imposing, but not like the man he loved.

“Are you okay, Dia?”

Barbatos hummed in amusement before he could answer and you looked at him with a questioning glance.

“That seems to be the question of the day, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean…?”

“I slept awfully” he hurried an answer, but that proved to be worse.

The knowing glint in Barbatos’s stare felt like a sentence, which caught your attention and raised your suspicion. There was an unspoken conversation between you and your butler and before Diavolo had time to say anything else, you looked at him with both arms behind your back and spoke in a non-committal tone.

“Would you please wait outside? It will only take a moment”

He nodded and forced himself to get up from his seat. His body felt like an unoiled engine, joints cracking uncomfortably and making him cringe, but that wasn’t what was making him wince. It was the sensation of having no magic and no support in case anything went bad, of the idea of being perceived as an impostor whose intentions were still unknown.

The silence followed him as he left the kitchen and the last thing he saw before closing the door was the cup of tea he hadn’t touched, still full and no longer warm.

Could he find the dusty room where the mirror was located? He’d probably be able to retrace his steps from his office, but he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to reach the office without being caught first. One of the servants would eventually see him and report to Barbatos and then it would only be a matter of time before his fate was sealed.

But what other option did he have? Convince you that he meant no harm and that his other version was safe? He didn’t even know if he was safe! For all he knew, the human Diavolo could be experimenting with his new powers and driving Barbatos and Lucifer mad! The other six brothers were probably having a field day, which just made everything worse.

He supposed the best he could do was lay low and get on your good graces, although that might be difficult if he was impersonating your boyfriend.

Quite the adventure, indeed.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he heard the hinges again and saw you emerge from the kitchen. Your calm demeanour did nothing to ease his nerves, but he still placed himself beside you when you started to walk away.  

He tried to ignore Barbatos’s presence following far behind them.

Of course, he had no such luck.

.

.

Somehow, being alone with you didn’t make him as apprehensive as the others had eventually made him feel. Sure, the silence between you was uncomfortable and tense as a string, but at least he could distract himself by observing the flowers in the path and the nocturnal birds flying over your heads.

Just like the structure of the city, the flora and fauna of the Devildom remained the same in both universes, so being surrounded by the familiarity of something so simple was probably what was helping him stay grounded and keeping him from spiralling.

You took him for a stroll through the gardens, distractedly caressing the leaves and the petals as you passed and scratching the surface of the water when you went around the fountains. Not a single word was said, yet your tranquillity didn’t quiver. Perhaps, as non-social as you were as a prince, the silence was your source of comfort.

A long half an hour passed until you finally decided it was time to sit down and have a talk, although it might have been shorter; not once did Diavolo dare to grab his phone and check the time.

The wooden bench was wide enough to sit comfortably without being glued to each other, but he still leaned against the armrest and tried his hardest to ignore the way the ornate iron dug into his skin. You seemed to pay no mind, quietly admiring the horizon while the moon lighted your face and the breeze moved your hair. Diavolo couldn’t help but stare in wonder, wishing his beloved boyfriend was there instead. His fantasy was shattered, however, when you turned to look at him with a hardened gaze.

“Who are you?”

The straightforwardness of the question caught him off guard. He expected you to dance around the topic, maybe even toy with him a little bit, but it looked like you didn’t want to waste any time on the subject.

He didn’t either, not anymore. He longed for the comfort of your presence and the warmth of his magic; everything that was part of him had been ripped away and while it had been entertaining at the beginning, his impatience was running very thin.

Diavolo sat straight, vulnerable and at a disadvantage, but still the future Demon King.

“I am Lord Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom” he said with a secure tone. Your expression changed almost imperceptibly, turning to stupefaction before going back to emotionless. “I’ve been transported to this world on accident and I’ve lost my powers. I mean no harm”

“Incapability to make harm and unwillingness to do so are not equal”

“I don’t want any trouble”

“Why would I believe you?”

“It’s in your best interest”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning”

He stared at you without blinking, trying to get his point across without showing any aggressiveness; hopefully, his human-like appearance would help his case.

“You are quite bold” you said with poorly contained ire and indignation. Your lips formed a thin line and there was a deep frown on your face; it almost looked painful.

“I am telling the truth. I’m not sure, but I believe your Diavolo is in my world. If you help me return, he may come back to you”

“And if he doesn’t?”

What a great question.

Nothing certain was on the table, only mere speculation. If he was a human living with the brothers while you were the demon prince living in the castle, it was logical to assume the alternate Diavolo was living in a world where he was the prince and you were the human. Where else could he be otherwise?

“I don’t know” he finally said, swallowing hard. “But I’ll be out of your way”

You stayed in silence for a couple of seconds before getting up and pacing for a few minutes. The grass flattened under your feet and the birds resting on the branches flew away. Your frustration would be noticeable even to the most obtuse demon.

“You were transported; how?”

“There’s a room in the east wing of the castle, not far from the office, with a mirror inside. I was running away from Barbatos when I found it. The reflection it showed wasn’t mine and I got curious, then there was a light and it brought me here”

There was a moment of silence where you both stared at each other. Thankfully, your anger had mostly gone away, having been replaced by intrigue and disbelief. It could be his imagination, but Diavolo was pretty sure there was a tiny smirk on your lips.

“You were running away from Barbatos”

“I was”

“For what reason?”

He closed his eyes with slight embarrassment, knowing perfectly well that the lecturing would follow him no matter the universe.

“He was making me work”

“I beg your pardon?”

There it was, the chuckle of incredulity. You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head as if that would help you hear better. The moonlight was crowning you, leaving your face in the shadows and making Diavolo feel incredibly exposed, but he still answered.

“I’ve been working for days on end and I was tired, but I had more paperwork, so I asked for more tea and took the chance to run away when he left me alone”

“You, as the heir to the throne,” you added with scepticism, “didn’t want to do your job?”

“I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend”

“And who that may be?”

“You” he barked, finally gaining the feeling of having the upper ground.

Diavolo watched with satisfaction as you blinked in surprise, petrified on your spot. There was a shift in your eyes, something that softened the accusation in them, and then, slowly, you walked towards him and sat down again, this time closer but still not touching.

“We are dating in your world?” your voice had subdued as well, slightly leaning towards contentment.

“Yes” he nodded, allowing himself to smile a little. “For a few months now”

“Just like us, then”

His heart did a flip at the statement even when he was already aware of the fact, cheeks growing warm and making him grin like an idiot. You didn’t notice, as you were too occupied admiring the moon in amazement.

“What perfection” you said with a voice hoarse from emotion. “To find each other in more than one reality”

Diavolo forced himself to swallow and push down that painful spine in his throat. Meeting you had probably been one of the warmest moments of his life, being surpassed only by the day you shared your first kiss, and he kept both memories in his heart with extreme caution and care.

Knowing that those occasions had happened to other versions of him was just another memory waiting to be stored in his brain.

“Perfection, indeed” he answered with wet eyes and no amount of sadness in them. “One of my finest accomplishments”

You chuckled, what was probably the happiest he had seen you so far, before getting up one more time and offering him a hand to help him do the same.

“Come on, let’s get you home. We can search for the mirror and, if that doesn't work, luckily for us, I have a very talented demon who is an expert on portals to other realities”

Diavolo smiled at your teasing, sniffing and swallowing a couple of more times to fully erase the sudden raw emotion that you had both shared just then. Still, there was a bit of uncertainty left in his mind.

“What if your Diavolo doesn’t come back?”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard the question, but didn’t turn around. It seemed he had already seen too much of your emotions in just one night.

“I thought we made it clear” you muttered while continuing to walk the path. “We will always find each other”

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @sammywo

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Could I get a scenario where the darling is super emotional and cries all the time. She's not particularly scared or trying to be manipulative, just cries really easily. I thought it'd be interesting to have Ash from black Butler, Kanike from Tokyo ghoul, Shiapouf from hunter x hunter, and any other emotional yandere who you think fits. Crybaby vs crybaby. Thanks!

I’m currently on a vacation so I had to keep this limited to only a few characters.

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @jamayah @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @flaming-vulpix

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, isolation, manipulation, abduction

Crybaby vs. Crybaby

Ash Landers

▫️Tears are droplets of innocence, at least the tears that you spill are. It is a sight that he would even consider beautiful if it wouldn’t be for the grief that is piercing the essence of his soul when he sees you spilling tears of purity. Initially Ash mistakes your tears as a sign of fear, a thought that tightens his heart with anxiety and self-hatred but he doesn’t wish to bother you with his problems and keeps the stress and anxiety to himself, leading to emotional meltdowns when he’s all by himself. He’s convinced he’s doing something wrong every time you start crying and that behavior is hard to shake off even when he eventually figures out that you are just a very sensitive person. The sensitivity of yours is only more of what makes you so pure and perfect in his eyes. It is your tendency to cry so easily though that leads Ash to cuddle you even more all to not overwhelm your fragile feelings and to keep all anxiety and stress away from you. He will worship tears of happiness and joy but he will damn everyone, including himself, if your tears are ever caused by sorrow.

Shaiapouf

🎻His demeanor really depends on what stage of his obsession he is in already. If he’s still in his earlier stages where he overloads you with tons of expectations to be perfect Shaiapouf is going to be the main culprit for your tears. He may pretend to be nice but the disappointment due to your lack of self-control is written all over his face. He’s strict and his words are harsh, belittling you and even using his abilities on you to calm you and your tears down. If we’re talking about Shaiapouf after he has properly embraced his obsession things look quite a bit different. He’s using your sensitivity to manipulate you further into his arms, actively encouraging the overwhelmed meltdowns so that he can be the one to smother you and help you to calm down. He was born a servant, he needs to be needed by you and it just so happens that you need him too. That is at least what he tries to indoctrinate into your mind with attentive touches and sweet lies. What used to be a burden in his eyes has now turned into something precious and sweet which only gives him more reasons to isolate and protect you. After all the world outside would only overwhelm you.

Kaneki Ken

🔲Kaneki is already very fidgety and nervous, frightened that his darling is simply going to despise him and view him as the monster he thinks he is deep down as well. So the first few weeks after the abduction aren’t pretty. He knows that you tend to cry easily, his heart always tightened and hurt when he stalked you but it is still so much worse when he is the cause of your tears, especially knowing that those aren’t happy tears. You may as well have poured acid over his skin and it would have hurt him less than watching you spilling tears because you are frightened of him. His stomach is churning and worms are feasting through his pained heart, his own vision blurry as he stutters out apologies, longing to reach out for you yet terrified that you would only flinch away from him and only break his bleeding heart more. It is this initial trauma that has him trembling whenever you cry long after you’ve gotten through the worst parts and your tears are no longer his fault. His presence is hovering over you as soon as Kaneki senses that you’re crying, terrified that something or someone upset you.

Fudo Akira

👿Even after Akira’s transformation he has remained the crybaby boy he has been since his childhood. He’s highly sensitive and it is very likely that he may even start crying together with you when you start spilling tears first. At first he is a tad bit ashamed of it. In this new body of his he was hoping to be able to toughen up and to be your pillar of comfort yet his own tears get stained in his own tears the moment he sees you as he is just weeping with you, no matter whether you’re sad or very happy about something. Akira starts getting more comfortable the moment he realises that you actually seem to take comfort in the fact that even someone as intimidating and tough-looking as him has a very sensitive soul. So he just starts crying with you to comfort you and help you to regulate your emotions. If there is a negative reason behind your tears and it happens to be a person as well Akira may just pay them a visit later for some civilised talking but he prioritises you always first by comforting you before he weaponises his new strength and appearance. He hates it when your tears are those of grief and fear after all.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi, could u do yandere ciel, sebastian, ran mao, lau, ash, and hannah from black butler with a reader like teruhashi from saiki k, shes basically a really pretty girl who believes she is completely perfect but acts sweet and humble outside, and has a huge fan club involving other nobles and important politicans, and is actually loved by literal gods and is seen as a goddess to other ppl with ppl willing to sacrifice their life for them all bc just for her beauty.

Teruhashi Reader | Yandere Black Butler

Your beauty is other-wordly, causing all to indescribable chase after your heart and happiness. As it's always been. And just as your fan base has always been so has your arrogance and narcissism. You know you’re the perfect of most perfect and it's all going to your plan. You worried that even those who might have an inkling of your true thoughts might think to stop you but just like the others they're just as obsessed with you:

Ciel Phantomhive

“If you’d be willing, the Phantomhive estate would appreciate your visit.”

He’s not offering this is a warning

He wouldn’t trust the uninformed masses to mishandle you

It's best you stay within his trusted care

Forget about being a bargaining chip 

He sees how others revolve around you and he feels the need to insert himself

Perhaps protect you like he wasn’t 

Sebastian Michaelis

“You are truly someone of power, to deceive so many humans. It's admirable.”

Sees through your actions easily 

Your character is an enigma he finds himself falling for all the same

Perhaps it's not the universal charm you seem to have but your general behavior

Either way, he’s more than happy to be commanded to protect your blissful existence

And it's more than entertaining to watch how the world bends to your twisted will

Ran Mao

“...keep?”

She doesn’t need to speak often for all to know she loves you

Nuzzling into your neck, hugging you from behind, squeezing your chest

Her lack of boundaries works perfectly for her

And you’d be none the wiser holding her roaming hands that had the blood of potential suitors on them

But if Lau approves she’ll start making moves to exact their will

Lau 

“Yes, I think that’s a delightful idea Ran Mao!”

He’s intrigued and in love at first sight

Now that first sight most definitely is not when Ciel holds that ball

No doubt he’s been aware of your existence for awhile

Its only a matter of time before he starts making moves to have you in his grasp

Ash Landers  

“Such purity! You truly are the diamond surrounded by human scum!”

Is definitely unbiased lies

He’s not in love he’s aware of your true purity lies again

He’s madly obsessed no doubt putting you on a deity-like level

He will commit all sorts of atrocities in your name

And should you protest he twists your words

or worst of all he decides you've becomes poisoned

To which he’ll happily sorrowfully remove you’re infected self

Hannah

“My master wishes for you to stay…won’t you please (Y/n)?”

As always Alois’ will is but her own

She’s just happy they match up this time

She’d want nothing more than for you to join their family

No doubt she knows her master and he’d refuse to…punish you the way he does her

It’d warm her heart if you came willingly

A family shouldn’t stay apart for too long

[simplyafountainpen]

Phantom Filled Nights

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Ciel Phantomhive x Older!Brother!Reader x Sebastian Michaelis

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: Life has finally caught up with (Y/n) but he refuses to break down. Ciel and Sebastian help him realize that even Guard Dogs need a break.

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Huge amount of angst, fluffy ending, familial reconciliation, Reader has extreme burn scars, Reader is implied to be heavily disfigured, Reader uses cane and has prosthetic, Reader implied to have PTSD to some degree, Reader goes through traumatic flashback (described to the best of my ability)

{𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽}: ❝I'm always shy when I make a ask, but i'll try. It's about black butler. I was thinking about a reader who is Ciel's big brother, like 3 years more older than ciel (u can choose) Like, male reader is overloaded with something (work or psychological things), you could put sebastian and the rest of them. I'm sorry for my bad English, im trying to not use the translator… i love your writing, btw❤❞ - Sasattan (@sasattan)

When your little brothers disappeared, you were alone. No matter what anyone said or did, you refused to believe that they were dead. And so you waited. You never listened to your Aunt claiming it was time to move on, because how could you when they were still out there, holding on? You had to keep going, keep believing, not letting any lick of hope slip past your fingertips because the day when your two baby brothers would return was soon, you could feel it.

But as you eagerly awaited their return, time passed. And you grew older. And older. And older still. A mere two weeks passed and suddenly, you officially took the title as the Earl of Phantomhive, and the Queen’s Guard Dog. At fourteen years old, you bore responsibilities no child should ever have to.

And you had just turned fifteen years old when only one of your younger brothers returned, with that hellish butler of his.

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

Owls cried beyond the window behind you as candle light washed the room you were in with a golden glow. The sound of a pen dashing across pages also filled the room. You sighed, deep and filled with melancholy, as you pushed a stack of pages by another - a finished pile - and grabbed another and quickly began to work. You knew it was long past midnight, all the servants in their quarters asleep.

And hopefully, Ciel as well. You had only just gotten him back a few months back. He had been painfully thin, eyes sunken into his skull and hair ridiculously thin when he returned. No matter how you or your Aunt pried and asked, Ciel wouldn’t answer where he’d been all that time. That one, God awful month of painful waiting. Your one birthday wish - a direct month after the manor burned - was that they would return.

And there Ciel would stand before his tomb. A ghost of the past returned to you in the most awful of ways.

Being the Guard Dog came with the side effect of witnessing the underbelly and gore of an England that worked under the cover of night, drenched in ash and blood. But what that eye held as he stared, limp and lifeless at you as that man, if you even dared call that beast a man, stood behind him smiling like he had won something. It would haunt you.

The pen dropped from your hand and your face fell forward onto the mahogany, falling to the side of the paper you had just been working on with a resounding ‘thump’ that echoed off the walls and reverberated in your ears. No matter how much you asked, or rather, begged him to let you in, to let his walls down and allow you the great pleasure of helping him work through whatever hell he evidently faced in such a long-feeling-yet-short amount of time, he refused. He’d look at you in a way you couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, and mutter some ‘it wouldn’t matter’ under his breath and walk off with that dark thing following behind him.

Your head raised slowly and stared into the fire that crackled wildly with passion, focusing on your breathing so you didn’t spiral. You’d been stressed as of late, working on a particularly hard case while trying your best to be the shoulder Ciel so evidently needed to cry on. Endless amounts of paperwork had been forced on your shoulders and for some unspoken reason Funtom had suddenly taken a hit from a competitor, and working on a new product was sucking the absolute life out of you.

Your eyes were naturally drawn to the fire, gazing at the flickers of light and the bursts of cinder that would fall to the hearth and ignite in a final moment of flame before being silenced forever. Your eyes closed as the fire grew louder and you focused, brows furrowing as the world grew silent except for the growing roars of flame, ash and soot. The air seemed to grow heavy, mixing with a scent you hated but knew oh so intimately.

The case you had been handling lately involved the serial burnings of homes, each with families inside. The fires would always be set at midnight, and the homes were usually those of a wealthier lot. Nothing like an Earl or a Duke, but people with money nonetheless. The families always consisted of a mother, father, and at least one son, the most being quadruplets, never a daughter however. After the burning, the family would be confirmed dead by the suspect or suspects - you assumed it may be either a duo or a team - usually by caving heads and chests. The worst one so far had been a family where the father had just received a raise from his occupation - a butchers assistant - and all had died not a day later. What made it so bad was that fact that the twins burned in the fire were infants. Just barely two months old.

The remaining smell singed your nostrils and made your eyes water but you could not tear your eyes away from the group. The mother and father lying over the boys cradle, holding them in their arms.

You couldn’t help it. Shaking in your chair as your grit your teeth, trying to remove yourself from the thoughts that would replace that family with your own, hearing the panicked cries of your little brothers as fire consumed the walls and stairs, making escape nigh impossible.

You couldn’t help it as one of your hands trailed up your body, filled with blotches of burned flesh and stitches, gross and red and raised, that textured your skin under your bandages and thick, heavy clothes. It was sensitive. It was numb. You could feel the flames licking your skin as the crackling grew louder, breathing becoming harsh as hands raced to protect your face when the flames climbed the walls in your bedroom, making you scream.

You fell from your bed, night shirt clinging to your chest as sweat poured from your skin, crawling across your floor, which burned across your being, and pulled yourself up to wretch your door open, crumbling into the hall as you shouted for your family. You shuffled through the halls as servants ran about, screaming and crying. The smoke and heat stung at your eyes but you pushed forward, desperately calling for your mother and father. You collapsed into a wall, going low to take a deep breath and wheezing at the smoke you inhaled instead. You coughed, falling to the floor once more but continued to crawl, your calls much weaker than before.

Suddenly you were in the doorway of the study that held your family as fire burned through everything around you. It roared, forcing you back as you saw them huddled together, mother and father above your brothers. They screamed at you to stay back but you, ever the brash child, jumped through the flames to reach them, only for the floor to give out beneath you, leaving you trapped in the middle of the flames. It quickly ate away at you, nightshirt burning away and your skin blackening and peeling, your screams echoing across the home, actively being the loudest amongst the chaos. You struggled and cried, tears quickly drying up and evaporating, hands clawing at everything they could reach to pull yourself from the pain.

Hands wrapped around you, strong and safe, pulling on you. Unfortunately your leg took the brunt of the damage, snapping as you were pulled up from the ground. You cried, leg jutting at a horrible angle as you were rushed into the embrace of your mother, father cursing as he rushed back to the group. Your brothers clung to you, and you didn’t care as their nails dug into the fresh burns, stinging and bleeding. You looked up at your parents who were talking before your father spoke.

His voice was muffled, drowned out by the noise of the fire, and the group shuffled close to a window you hadn’t noticed, moving inch by inch in case any more floorboards were lose or weak. Your arms were tight around your brothers, hushing and shushing them, kissing their foreheads and patting their hair in attempts to comfort them. You all were as low to the ground as possible, the heat seeping into your bones and scorching your soul.

As soon as you all made it to the window, the fire had claimed over half the room and was right on your heels, its light blinding you. The adrenalin was the only thing keeping you from passing out from pain, mother's grip growing tighter as father rushed to the window and forced it open, eventually punching through the glass and lifting it that way, the noise imprinting itself in your brain.

You were torn from your brothers, a scream immediately shredding itself from your throat. Thrashing to the best of your ability, you were only calmed by your father’s hands on your shoulders. He glanced outside - to see if it was safe to jump you assumed - and leaned in close, pressing many kisses to your head. You looked back and saw your mother, who was still holding your brothers, smiling at you.

“You are the most injured of all of us. You need to go first.” Your father began. You immediately shook your head, pointing to your brothers but father shushed you.

“No. They’ll be out right behind you, I promise. I love you, so so much, and so does your mother. Please.” You looked back at the fire that was consuming the floors and walls at a rapid pace, creeping closer to your family. You sniffled, nodding, and hugged your father. He hugged you back, lifting you and carrying you to the window, mindful of the glass.

“Aim for the bushes, my little soldier. They’ll cushion your landing.” You nodded again. Before he dropped you, you turned to your father and family.

“I love you all.” You whispered. And you were met with declarations of love back. Then, the wind whipped wildly around you as you fell.

You didn’t know what happened, what changed your trajectory, why you were suddenly in so much pain.

… Your lower back hurt. Bad.

Something crashed above you and your saw the window you just fell out of grow dark, as though something fell in front of it inside, then flame burst forth from remains, glass raining down over your withered form, that of which screamed and cried.

You were never very religious. Church was not something your family partook in to often, but in that moment you preyed. Clasped your hands above your head and preyed, cried, and screamed. Your eyes were clouded with tears, and noticed that a red blob followed by several other blobs raced towards you, scream-like-noises emitting around you.

Voices sounding like they were calling from the bottom of the sea rung in your skull and made you cry more, hands coming to your ears as your vision darkened around the edges.

“BROTHER!!”

You didn’t react, covering your ears with both hands, begging that the noises and the lights would go away. Your leg, you couldn’t feel it. The damn thing felt like lead weight attached to you, the burns were itchy and your fingers raced to scratch at them, the heat of the flames making everything unbearable.

You started stripping, if just to cool off the tiniest bit, but something stopped you. A hand, it seemed. Before you could scream again you were sat up against a wall, figures dancing in your corroded sight. Your face, tainted as it was with scars, was wet with tears - bloody tears mind you - and drool from your stuck-open mouth, moaning and gasping and sobbing.

Your entire body shook as someone sat beside you, not saying anything for a moment. Finally, you heard a choked cry that wasn’t your own from that shadow beside you.

“What’s wrong..?” It whispered. The voice was soft and scratchy, as though it hadn’t been used in a long while. You sobbed again as the flames licked your terrorized flesh.

“The fire…” you murmured. Though before it could speak again you spoke more. “It took them from me… it burns… everything hurts… my leg…” your voice grew ever quieter as you strained, double vision making it hard to see your lap as you looked down and towards the leg that burned oh so painfully. In a moment of agonizing pain, your hands wrapped around the dead weight of your leg, teeth grinding together as you pulled at it. The voice gasped as you screamed out, the leg finally being torn from your body and launched across the field of grass you lay on. You cried harder as it flew and clattered against the dirt, the pain only getting worse. The voice was silent for only a moment more before speaking again.

“What do you need me to do?” It whispered, and you screamed. “MAKE IT STOP!.. MAKE THE FIRE STOP OH PLEASE!! IT BURNS LIKE HELL I CAN’T TAKE IT!!!” Your cries echoed as you slid on the wall until you were curled in a sideways fetal position, face pressed against the grass as you hiccupped.

More muddled voices filled your hearing as your vision blurred and danced, making the world spin and leap, disorienting you further. You pushed your head into your leg, sobbing even louder still. It stayed silent for a bit longer but the presence came closer and began breathing loudly, holding his breath for a couple seconds and exhaling just as loud. He did this a couple times and you couldn't help to copy, your breathing slowly matching that of the other's. Your tears still fell, but the shuddering came to a halt.

"(Y/n), where are you right now?" He questioned. You kept breathing, thinking with your eyes closed.

"I'm outside. T-the manor is on fire and... and uhm-" "Breathe." You nodded, stopping to breathe. The person beside you also kept breathing with you, emphasizing the deep breaths and long exhales.

"You're not outside, (Y/n). You're in a hallway inside the manor." Your breath shuttered and his breathing immediately got louder and you followed. "That night was a few month ago. The manor is fully rebuilt. You're in a hallway just outside the study. It's around... one? One AM, I believe." You nodded, still in fetal position. You whined, and curled a bit further into yourself. The other sighed and scooted closer.

"(Y/n)... can you look at me please?" You shivered, but nodded again. It took you a few seconds but eventually you were able to sit yourself back up and looked over, meeting the teary eyes of Ciel. You blinked, staring at him. It took you a moment, really taking in the fact that he was before you, not in the manor? You finally began looking around, breathing growing heavy again as tears welled up in your eyes.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), look at me. You need to keep breathing." You nodded but kept looking around. You sniffed, rubbing at your face and eyes and itching at any burns on your face. "(Y/n), can you stop scratching please?" You huffed, and didn't comply. In fact, you scratched a little harder, skin braking and breathing a bit harder. You heard Ciel shuffle around, before appearing before you. He stared into your eyes, then raised his hands slowly. They slowly moved to your wrists, but you flinched back, thus making Ciel flinch. He kept looking you in the eye, an unspoken staring contest sparking between you. He broke it first, sighing.

"(Y/n), may I touch you?" You jumped, staying silent. You continued to stare, breathing deeply more. You nodded. He nodded as well, once more moving slowly and steadily to gently grip your wrists, pulling them from your face. You looked down as he muttered something about needing to bandage the wounds.

"Sebastian in going through the house and putting out all the fireplaces." Ciel suddenly mentioned. You looked up, still allowing him to hold onto you - which was now him holding your hands in his lap - and tilted your head, silently asking him what he meant.

"Earlier you said something about fire," he was purposely omitting what you said, you noticed, "So I sent him off. To put out all the fires in the manor, I mean." You got the double meaning relatively fast. He understood the man made you remarkably uncomfortable, and sent him away before you could even recognize he was there. You nodded again, acknowledging his statement.

“Do you want me to bring you your leg?” He asked. You squinted and he sighed. “I meant- Your prosthetic. Would you like me to bring your prosthetic leg to you? As well as your cane?” Your head rapidly shook and you shrunk into yourself.

“Do you want to go to your bedroom? Or office?” He looked confused, which was fair as you shook your head again. “Do you want to… stay here?” Finally you sighed. Ciel continued to sit before you, taking in the sight of such a shaken version you.

You looked so tired, eyes sunken and sweat rolling down your forehead. Your scarred and heavily bandaged face still had tear tracks, and the bandages trailed beneath the collar of your shirt and traced your arms and - assumedly - your remaining leg. You still shook a little, though much less than earlier. Your hair was a mess of fly-away’s and frizz, some even stuck to your cheek from when you collapsed in your office.

Both you and Ciel stared at each other, taking each other in. The signs of trauma literally stamped themselves all across you both, tailing each of you with a scent of death that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin. For a moment, both your breaths stilled. Then you started crying again.

Your head curled towards your chest, hands rushing to your face. Ciel immediately went to comfort you, but your head was then thrown back, knocking back on the wall, though that didn’t deter your laughter. A wide grin had found with way onto your face, eyes closed and tears streaming down your cheeks. Both your hands quickly found their way around Ciel’s shoulders, drawing him into a tight hug. Your head rested on his, sobbing into his hair.

Ciel sat there, gobsmacked, but finally leaned into your touch, his arms embracing you and nuzzled into your chest, tears finally finding their way into his eyes, and a muffled wail made its way from his throat.

“You’re here with me..! I... I can feel you! Don’t leave, okay? P-promise me you won’t leave..!” You cried. Ciel was pulled firmly into your lap so you could fully wrap around him, entirely engulfing him in your embrace. Both of you continued to hold each other, sobbing and laughing and crying. Everything seemed to piece together as you held each other, finally having your little brother in your arms. He hadn’t been this emotionally available since he returned, and work had kept you from interacting to much with him, so this? Feeling him against you when both of you were long past the line of breaking, it was nice.

Being here, with him, in this moment of weakness, was nice.

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

{𝓝𝓸 𝓞𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥}

Sebastian walked through the halls lit only by the candle in his grip after extinguishing every single fire place in the manor. He walked back to the last place he’d seen his young Master, that being with his older brother in a hall as said brother had an attack.

Sebastian would be a liar to say he hadn’t wanted to be there and “help” - he just wanted to see what that kind of attack was like, really - but unfortunately, he’d been sent off to make the teenager much more comfortable, even if he couldn’t see the fires in other rooms.

Something about “being able to be assured it won’t happen again” or whatever his Master had said.

His eyes stalked the halls, the candle nothing more than a formality as to not scare the children when he would find them, a dull smile plastered on his face. He truly wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and enjoy the latest cat he had stole- adopted.

His brisk pace paused as his gaze finally landed on the intertwined bodies of the two remaining Phantomhive children, (Y/n)’s body enveloping Ciel’s in a firm embrace, the duo sound asleep against the floor. (Y/n)’s leg was a length away, and the candle Ciel had was little more that a nub surrounded by wax. Ciel’s head was cushioned by (Y/n)’s hand, the elders own body being the thing the majority of Ciel’s own body rested on.

Sebastian stared at them for a moment, simply taking in the view, and walked towards them, slipping a hand under (Y/n) and balancing Ciel on top of him, walking them both towards the Earl’s bedroom. The walking seemingly jostled them a bit, as (Y/n) groaned and hugged Ciel tighter. One of his eyes peaked open, looking at Sebastian who kept his eyes forward.

His eyes stayed on the older’s face, trained on his features. Sebastian ignored the look and kept pressing forward through the cold halls, candle somehow still balanced in his hand but far enough to not distress the drowsy boy anymore for the night.

“… Thank you.” (Y/n) muttered, eye closing back and falling back into sleep. Sebastian finally eyed him as the boy snuggled Ciel closer, who only grunted into his chest. The rocking motion led (Y/n) back into slumber, evident by the deep breathing and the most relaxed expression Sebastian had seen on his face.

The Demon only huffed, a ghost of a smile on his face. He walked them to (Y/n)'s bedroom, pulling back the sheets of the bed and laying them both down. He didn't even try to separate them, knowing that it would be useless to even try with them both in the emotional state they were in, even if in sleep.

Sebastian pulled the covers over them, running a hand through both heads of hair. With candle still in hand, he walked out the room, closing the door till a crack, staring at the two children who pulled the other impossibly closer. Something deep in the man's eyes shined, though it was nothing but a dull glimmer.

"Goodnight, Young Masters." He breathed. He gently closed the door behind him, leaving the two to dream the night away.

The moon danced over their sleeping forms, the cloudless night offering stars to light their paths deeper into the realm of sleep. Both subconsciously reaching out to their sibling to calm their troubled minds and finally find some semblance of sleep for the first time in weeks.

Finally reunited, though with much work of reconciliation ahead of them, was nice.

Being together, holding each other; knowing the other was there, safe and sound, was nice.

This first moment of true calm mental silence, was nice.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: I hope this pleases, because for some reason this was incredibly difficult to write. I did, however, give it my all and push through so that I may deliver. Again, I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

-🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved

[xxfinnxx]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟHello everyone!!*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

My name is Finn!! But you can call me Cherie too, i write x readers and i obv accept requests <33 (i accept soft nsfw and gore reqs)

I can write in italian and english!! I will show some fandoms i'm in, but i mostly write for anime characters or rpg maker games!! (I'm creating a webtoon and a series where i have a ds server if someone is interested bc i might write for those too)

I will show the ones i prefer but yall can ask for others too :))

Animes:

Black butler: Ciel and Alois (not nsfw they are minors.)

Blue lock: Rin, Sae, Kaiser and Ness

Owari no seraph: Yuu, Mika, Shimaka doji

Servamp: Lawless, Licht, Lily, Tsubaki

Evangelion: Kaworu

Etch...

Rpg maker games

Witch's heart: Ashe, Noel, Sirius

ZENO remake: Tsugino, Maeno

YYTD: Midori, Miyori

Dead plate: Vincent, Rody

Etch...

Other

Cherry crush: Chohan, Sodam, Kang, Cherie, Mashiro

Killer chat: Ronin

I'm sorry if some characters personality won't be perfect i'll try my best </33

Bye bye!!

[zippidi-dooda]

Book of Harvest - I

Dearest Y/N,

'Ow ya been Trick? Did ye miss us? I hope ev'rythin' 'as been well. All of us 'ave been pretty busy, our acts get a lot of attention 'n more want to see us perform. Th' troupe 'as just kept on growin' since I last saw ye too, one lad in particular is very sensational, 'as an act all of 'is own. And on 'is firs' day too! Can ye believe it? Was in a bad situation tha' one. I'm glad we were able ta 'elp. Snake, tha's what we call 'im. Curious 'bout 'is act, are ye? Well, give us a visit and see fer ye'self, ye'll be amazed I tell ya. Of course, we'll let ye in fer free, couldn't 'ave made it 'ere without ya, after all, an' couldn't be more greatful. Th' least we can do as thanks so don't think 'bout protestin'  ya hear! Anyway, ye've been busy too, right? Wish ye weren't, ye deserve to sit back 'nd unwind more'n anyone. I'd love ta holiday with ya one day, maybe go s'mewhere away from all the bright lights 'nd starin' crowds. Somewhere peaceful. Over the hills and far away don' sound too bad, eh? But tell me, what's yer job like? Ye didn't give much detail in yer last letter an' I'm interested in 'earin' more. Oh, an' 'ow's yer father? Still workin' at the 'ospitals? Ye should bring 'im along next time ye visit, I think our doc would 'ppreciate the company o' another doc 'ere again. Wish I could write ye more but I'm 'fraid I'm runnin' outta space on th' page. I look forward to yer next letter and 'ope ye the best.

P.S. It took a while ta decide what to get ye, but I think I found somethin' ye'll like

P.P.S. The others pitched in an' insisted on sending this, so hope yer not disappointed 

-J

You chuckled, pressing your fingers to your lips as you read the letter. The writing had gotten smaller as the sender tried to pack the rest of what he needed to say onto the page. 

"Each time we talk you end up writing more and more," you smiled, picking up the wrapped gift mentioned. "I can't now, but I'll definitely stop by for a visit when I have time."

It didn't take even a second for you to peel off the brown wrapping paper from the small, rose decorated box. Inside, there was a glass, puff perfume bottle, a raspberry colored liquid swirling inside. 

You took a whiff of the rose scented elixir, a fond memory of your first meeting with the man signed "J" crossing your mind.

"This must have cost a fortune," You sighed. "I won't let it go to waste, but I really can't just take it without paying you all back. I'll have something for each of you when I see you, I promise."

"What are you muttering about, Dearie?" A familiar voice called from across the dark room.

You folded the letter, tucking it away in your corset, and spritzed some perfume onto your wrists and neck. Maybe you should spray some of the perfume onto the next letter you sent as proof you used it.

Smiling, you walked over wrapped your arms around this silver haired man's waist, cheek resting against his back. "My friends' letter arrived. They sent a gift this time too. It's far too expensive though, so I'm thinking of getting them something in return. Do you have any suggestions, Undertaker?"

The Undertaker giggled and pressed one hand on top of yours. "I'm sure you'll find something they'll enjoy."

You hummed in response. "And what kind of gift would you like? I can't get them something and ignore you, now can I?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I want, Dearie." The Undertaker spun around to face you. "And it won't. Cost. You. A. Cent."

He captured your chin between his thumb and forefinger, long, black nails etching against your s/c skin.

You sucked in a breath, face warming as he forced you to look up at him. 

He leaned close, that contagious smile of his growing wider and more snide as his thick bangs hung like a curtain around you, revealing a perfect view of his enchanting chartreuse eyes.

That unique shade of lime green was bestowed upon a rare, unlucky few, a ring of it mixing into the e/c iris' of your own. You used to see it as a signal of unending misfortune. Until you met him and he made bad luck appear as something to be controlled.

"... Undertaker ...." You uttered, eyes flitting to his lips.

He let out a low chuckle, his chest reverberating against your own. "Give me the choicest laughter! You know exactly how perfect of a gift that'd be." His usual cheery laugh returned and he cupped your cheeks in his cold hands, rambling about what a joy being able to laugh is.

You wanted to be upset with him for teasing you at first, but couldn't help laughing along with him.

"Well, I haven't got any jokes now, but when I find a good one, I'll be sure to tell you, okay?"

He giggled. "Of course, Dearie."

You leaned forward, leaving a feather light kiss upon his soft lips.

His smile didn't fade and he simply caressed your cheeks with his thumbs until you pulled away.

You stood in a blissful silence for a moment, gazing at him lovingly until you remembered you each had a job to do.

"How's your work going today?" You asked, turning your attention to corpse resting in the delicately carved coffin behind the Undertaker.

"Smooth as always." The man said, leaning against the wooden frame of the girl's eternal bed. "Quite the interesting one, she is."

"Oh? How come?"

Undertaker glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a smirk resting on his lips.

He was expecting something.

"Aw, I told you I don't have a joke right now. Can't you at least tell me about this?"

He hummed remorsefully. "Sorry Dearie."

"Please, Undertaker ...?"

He tapped a thin nail against his lips. "I suppose this time I can accept other forms of payment from you, Dearie."

You smiled and eagerly gave him a kiss. "So? What's her story?"

The man leaned down, brushing the girl's bangs away from her closed eyes. "All of my customers are so lovely. I do what I can to make them even more beautiful. Each has a unique story to tell."

Your eyes followed as his hands moved to adjust the neckline of her dress. He was always so careful and attentive when taking care of his cadavers. If they all could see how well fostered they were in his care, you were sure they'd be swooning in their graves.

"Such a rare case. This one might just be the first of many."

"What do you mean?" 

Undertaker scrapped his fingertips against the wooden frame of the coffin as he stalked towards you. The sharp, skirtch, skritch, skritching of his nails started a shudder that coursed through your spine, your ears rang and you squirmed, fisting your skirt in your palm.

His cheshire grin proved pleased with your reaction. "A very important piece of them is missing. One you have all your own."

"And ... what piece would that be?"

A gasp escaped your lips as he suddenly gripped your waist, digging one long, sharp talon into the soft, delicate flesh just beneath your belly.

Then he leaned close, lips grazing against the shell of your ear and he whispered, "the one necessary for starting a family of your own. U~ter~us."

You released a shuddered breathed before leaning as far away as you could, trying to pry his claw from your gut.

"That ... seems like hard work."

He chuckled and moved behind you, chin resting on your shoulder, arms wrapping around you, looking down on the poor soul who had the unfortunate removal.

"Indeed. Very few could have done such a fine job. I believe someone like yourself could have done it if the situation prompted for it."

"... Right."

The strange man pressed his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell heavenly."

"So you like it? It's the gift I was given. Perfume. Rose scented. I'll have to ask where they got it so I can keep wearing it when it's all used up."

"If you'd like to, Dearie. Now, tell me, who's fortunate soul is under your care today?"

"Oh, you already know I can't tell you, Undertaker. But, since you did tell me a bit about your work, I'll tell you this: tonight's soul belongs to someone of very high status. Things may end up disasterous if I don't handle them carefully. Speaking of which, I should really get going so I don't get stuck with overtime. I've been on Will's good side for so long, it'd be a shame if I messed that all up now."

You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before heading towards the front door, pulling on your caplet and tucking your baker boy cap into your skirt pocket.

"Dearie?" Undertaker's voice called, causing you to pause, hand lingering on the doorknob as you turned to him.

"Yeah?"

"Your soul is a precious one. Take good care of it."

Your heart seemed to melt at his words and you couldn't wipe the wistful smile off your lips as you nodded.

"Of course, Undertaker. See you in a few."

He waggled his fingers at you as you walked into the busy streets, shutting the door to his secret work behind.

You stood with your back against the dark wood for a moment, mind hazy with the Undertaker's smile and gorgeous eyes that partially reflected your own. 

"Ah, you truly don't know the extent of power you hold over me, Undertaker." You mused, biting your lip.

You shook your head in attempts to clear your mind of him, dusted off your long skirt, and started in the direction of the palace. Can't keep the Queen waiting now can you?

Maybe on the way back you could pen a reply to the troupe and look around for their gifts. 

That'd be nice wouldn't it?

Though you couldn't just get them one thing, Lord knows how they'd fight over it. But, what could you send that'd be enough for each of them?

Maybe some candy? 

They didn't have the chance to eat many sweets back then, so maybe they'd appreciate it now. Of course, you'd have to get them Funtom treats.

They are the best out there and not to mention their creator was sort of a fan favorite around here.

"Make note to visit Funtom after work," you murmured to yourself, turning round the corner. "Ah, sorry, excuse me."

You bowed politely towards the man you bumped into and continued down the road.

You didn't pay much attention to it.

But the man did.

He didn't say a word, golden eyes simply followed you until you disappeared into the crowd. 

...

Your soul ... it wasn't anything like the others he's encountered before. 

It was incomplete.

Instantly, his interest was aroused.  It didn't make sense how a soul could be not all there, but that was what made him intrigued.  It wouldn't fill him, no, but it would make for the most interesting meal he's ever had.  He could feel that it was seasoned with impurities and fears.  This made your soul delectable to him.  To his kind.

Yes, his kind.  

If anyone else like him were to happen upon you, they'd waste no time in trying to devour you.  He couldn't let that happen.

He wanted it. Your soul. You. For himself.

And he decided then and there that he'd do anything to have it.

°°°

It was dark by the time you had to be outside Victoria's window. The moon was full, shining brightly against the vast rooftops, a cool breeze blowing through the air.

It was a beautiful night out.

You'd need to spent a night up above the dusky streets like this with Undertaker sometime.

Picturing the moment, you smiled and unhooked your billowy skirt, slipping it off your feet.

You dusted off the pair of black slacks you always wore underneath and made sure your caplet was secured around your chest.

You took the cap from your skirt pocket and put it on, tucking all your hair securely inside of it. You tugged your black leather gloves on further, weilded your heafty death scythe and entered the queen's bedroom.

All was quiet as you pattered softly across the thick, carpeted floor. 

The room was neat and tidy, the gold tipped furniture glinting as you walked past, all of it no doubt due to the palace servants' diligent cleaning.

A room like this was a luxury not many had a chance to even see. It was gorgeous and serene.

But something was off.

You pressed on further towards the canopied bed.

The soul in here felt faint.

Red curtains rippled softly from the wind seeping through the ajar window.

You held your breath.

The queen was mighty important, reigning this long had to amount to something. Now, you were tasked with assessing whether she was a valuable living piece in society or if another could just as easily continue in her place.

A big weight on your shoulders, others' lives hang in the balance.

Did the other souls you collected always ebb like this? You couldn't recall.

You licked your lips and reached for the curtain.

One ...

Surely it was nothing,

Two ...

Right?

Three ...!

"She's not there."

You jolted back, spinning around to face where the voice came from.

In the far corner of the room you could see the silhouette of someone sitting in a chair. Their legs were crossed, the tips of their shoes glinting under the moonlight, the white hem of their pants swinging softly as they bounced their leg. 

The human soul you were sent for still lingered in the room, yet strangely enough, you couldn't sense the accompanying presence of this other person's soul.

You tightened your grip on your death scythe, "Who are you?"

"What's it matter? I'm supposed to be here. You are not." The person stood and began to walk towards you. "Though your type always assumes you're needed at a specific time in a person's life. What a nuisance."

They stepped into the light and you could make out the rest of their features. 

They were clad in a white suit with lilac and gold adorning them. Soft hair was dove white, their eyes a soft purple, gazing down at the black, ruffled doll sitting in their arms. A sheathed long sword lay at rest against their hip.

Against the rays of moonlight streaking around them, they looked almost angelic.

They looked up at you, a smile adorning their lips.

"It must irk you to have to leave so soon after making the trip here. But may you rest easy knowing I'm deciding to let you run free."

You'd have to deal with them to be certain, but duty first.

"How thoughtful. But, I'm afraid my orders are clear, sir."

You threw back the red curtains behind you and peered into the bedded cavern. 

There, laying amongst the fluffy pillows and heavy blankets ... wasn't a person in sight. The queen wasn't there.

That didn't make sense. You knew Victoria was in here. Her soul was faint, but it was in here.

The person chuckled and you turned back to them.

Were they hiding her?

"Where is she?"

"Oh, I've already told you she isn't there. As her devout servant it is my job to ensure her safety from any and all intruders. And it is in your best interest to leave now, I will not say it again, Half-ling."

Just who was this guy? 

You flipped through your bingo book, confirming the time and date of Victoria's death. Tonight at midnight. If you took any longer tiptoeing around the issue with this person you'd miss the scheduled time.

You pocketed the book again and glared at the person.

"Interfering with a soul is exactly what I don't need today. What have you done with her?"

Their smile fell and they narrowed their eyes at you. "Do you never heed sound advice?"

"I may not be allowed to interfere with your life if you're not on the list. But I still have a job to complete and I'd rather not do it with all the headache."

You hefted your scythe, took a step forward, and swung. 

Swish!

Immediately the person was behind you, a single hand holding onto the end of your scythe, keeping it in place. 

They were stronger than you.

You strained to bring it down, to get out of their grasp.

"Honestly, there is no end to the amount your type pains me." They tore the scythe from your grip and kicked you to the ground. 

Much stronger.

You grunted, quickly turning over and crawled away from them. Your back stung from the blow, forearms and knees burning from the sudden impact of slamming to the carpeted floor.

You kept your eyes focused on them as they twirled your scythe in their hand. The sharp blade glistened dangerously in the moonlight as they stepped forward.

"Quite the dangerous accessory for a young lady. You wouldn't mind my confiscating it, would you? Of course not."

You scowled and braced yourself, palms planted against the floor, leg stretched out to hit them. You spun quickly, then shot up in hopes of knocking them off their feet and gaining the upper hand.

"I'd think you'd have a little more manners than this."  

Their voice was a soft whisper in your ear. Soothing.

Right before they landed a heavy blow to your side.

You gasped, stumbling as you were thrown onto the bed, clutching your side. You already knew they couldn't be human since you couldn't sense them. And clearly they weren't reaper since they were hindering your work and didn't own those familiar green eyes. But they couldn't be demon either, or else they would've taken a swipe at your soul by now. So if not those, then what?

Red curtains were yanked from their mount with a chink! You'd need to end this soon before they got to you. 

Turn, throw the drapes, lunge, and reach for your scythe!

You acted swiftly, ending up behind them with hands secured around an item.

You brandished it at the person. 

Wait ... was that the doll?

You stiffened suddenly sensing a surge of Victoria's soul coming from it. But that couldn't be right, could it? The Queen was a normal human not a doll. Unless ... you looked up at the soul-less person in the room with you ... this being did something to her.

They tore off the sheets then looked around perplexed for a moment.  Then their eyes landed on their doll. And the air grew dark and still.

"Enough."

In one swift movement their hand was around your neck and they pinned you against the wall. 

"Let's see how you fare now."

And just like that, they let you go, leaving you coughing and heaving against the wall. They stabbed your scythe into the plaster, the flat of the blade gently kissing your ear.

They were even faster than you.

They grabbed a fistful of your hair, knocking your hat off in the process, and yanked you forward. 

"I don't take kindly to those who take without permission. I've come too far now to lose anything towards the likes of you or anyone else. It'd do me well to get rid of you. You are unclean beyond belief."

They were seething.

At this rate you'd just become another Jane Doe, an empty husk in the the ladder of the English empire. There was no way you could move fast enough to counteract them.

But then, they softened and lowered their hand to caress your cheek. 

"But I am a magnanimous being. And an angel must always give the wicked a chance to repent. I can help you, if you're willing to recieve."

You grit your teeth. "In your dreams."

They chuckled, dragging their hand down to your neck. With their teeth, they slipped the ash glove off their other hand.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

Then, they tugged on something you hadn't yet noticed adorned your neck.

And an indescribably pain shot through you, for a moment your mind seemed to numb and blank. You let out a guttural scream.

They hushed you gently, pressing the glove past your parted lips, muffling your cry. "Shh, sh. It hurts, yes? I must teach you obedience somehow. Don't worry, the pain will subside. Though I suggest you don't try to take off this ... pretty, little collar if you wish to avoid more anguish. Only I have the power to free you, much like I would free any other wayward soul from their wicked ways."

They released their hold on you, taking the fluffed up doll from your trembling hands.

One thought made it's way through the stinging haze: get away from them

You spat out the drool covered glove and yanked your scythe out of the wall with one harsh tug. Then, with bleary eyes and gritted teeth, you ran for the open window to escape them.

Only to come crashing to your knees with another anguished cry. The burning, stinging sensation pierced through your neck where the collar sat and was spreading through your entire body like wildfire.

It was unbearable. 

"You'll be punished for any action I do not warrent. Each time will become more painful than the last."

You tried to claw at the collar, feeling the coarse leather and sharpened spikes beneath your leather clad fingertips. But also feeling the same intolerable burn seeping into your finger pads. Aching hands reached for the clasp. But there wasn't one. The collar encased your neck completely, coiling around you with no way to get it off by any means of your own. And the longer you kept pulling at it, the more unbearable the pain was. You had to let go.

But the pain persisted.

"STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

The angel tucked the pretty doll in the crook of their arm, brushing back it's long gray hair gently. "You'll do as I say now, won't you?"

You nodded mindlessly.

Anything but that searing pain.

"Good, seems you can learn. There may be hope for you yet. I look forward to your cooperation, Half-ling."

And just like that, the blinding pain was gone. You slumped against the floor with a shaky breath, trying to get your bearings, scythe laying uselessly on the ground next to you.

They turned with a flourish, sitting back down in the plush chair once more, singing to the living doll in the most angelic voice you'd ever heard. Comforting the carefully crafted porcelain as if it was the most dear thing in the world to them. Listening, you could almost forget the intense pain they had inflicted on you just seconds ago.

But that was just it. 

Without the voice smooth as silk or tender hands softly caressing the plaything in their arms, this angel was simply a fierce monster, interfering with human life with no regard for the path they were originally intended.

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down ...,"

One of the fallen.

"Falling down ...."

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter One: One Hell of a Monastery

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian go to a cult, and (Y/N) finds themself annoyed with Sebastian's tactics for getting information.

Mouse Note: This book is called “1.5” because it contains almost everything that is non-canon to Manga storyline. I had a bit in Book 1, but that stuff can be moved on from in Book 2. Book 1.5 will contain the end of Season 1 and the entirety of Season 2 of Black Butler. So, while this book and its storyline does exist and the emotional realizations of Sebastian and MC are canon, I simply hold it separate from the rest of Sebastian and the MC’s story to not create too much confusion of canon vs non-canon Manga storyline.

            “This morning, you are scheduled to have a dancing lesson with Mrs. Bright,” said Sebastian as he and (Y/N) walked beside Ciel. “This afternoon, you have an appointment with Lord Winsler, who runs a trading business. Are you paying attention, Young Master?”

            “Didn’t I tell you I’ve had enough of dancing?” said Ciel. “It doesn’t suit me.”

            “You are too modest. I thought you looked lovely at the soiree,” said (Y/N), smiling impishly at the reference to Ciel’s undercover work. Ciel sent them an icy glare as his ears turned red, but (Y/N), not being his contracted demon, didn’t have any reason to be nervous and just grinned wider.

            Ciel huffed and opened the door to his parlor. He deadpanned at what he saw inside. He had another visitor prancing around his mansion unannounced. This time, it was Ash, the Queen’s butler. He was chatting and sipping tea with Tanaka.

            “You are Her Majesty’s butler!” said Ciel.

            “Master Ciel,” greeted Ash.

            “How is it that Her Majesty’s butler came to be drinking tea in my mansion?” asked Ciel.

            “You may not be aware of this, Young Master, but Mr. Ash has always been the one to deliver Her Majesty’s orders,” said Sebastian.

            “Is that even a butler’s job?” asked Ciel.

            “As a butler, it is only natural to be able to investigate applicants for an audience with Her Majesty, deliver an envelope to Lord Phantomhive shortly thereafter, and relish some tea with Mr. Tanaka while about this business, conducting it during Her Majesty’s afternoon nap!” declared Ash forcefully.

            He’s got Sebastian’s work ethic, thought (Y/N).

            “So, Mr. Ash, what can we do for you this time?” said Sebastian. He had no answers for it yet, but he too felt some instinctual wariness around the butler, so he wanted to make this meeting quick.

            “Well, now,” said Ash. “There is a catholic monastery on the outskirts of Preston that was set on fire during the Reformation and is currently disused. A religious society preaching heretical doctrine has begun assembling there. Rumor has it that the founder of this society possesses the Doomsday Books of all his followers.”

            “You mean the land register? Where things like livestock and property appear?” said Ciel. “Even if he has all this information, what good is it to him?”

            “Not Domesday. Doomsday,” corrected Ash. “These books they are worshipping are quite different from what you have in mind. Doomsday: the Day of Judgement. Indeed, it is a register, but of the sort you need when flung before the Throne of God. They say all your offenses, virtues, and vices are engraved on its pages.”

            Ciel tsked. “Yet another encounter with the occult.”

            “It would also seem they’re planning an uprising against the government,” said Ash. “The residents of Preston are frightened by this heretical menace, and Her Majesty the Queen is deeply saddened by it.”

            “Does this mean they are to be dispersed, or rather, eradicated?” questioned Ciel.

            “I will leave that to your judgment,” said Ash.

            “Very well,” said Ciel.

            At the widow, Pluto suddenly jumped up (thankfully in human form and clothed) and began banging on the window. His mouth was open in a wide grin as he stared at Ash. The white-haired man’s eyes narrowed sharply, and Pluto’s face dropped. He walked away dejectedly. (Y/N)’s nose twitched at the interaction.

            “Who is he?” asked Ash.

            “Just an employee,” said (Y/N).

            “I see. He seems interesting,” said Ash. His violet eyes landed on (Y/N). “As interesting as any one else on this staff, of course.”

            (Y/N) and Sebastian’s gazes were cold and gained no warmth until after Ash had made his departure.

l

            “So, where shall we start?” said (Y/N).

            “According to Mr. Ash, the monastery is heavily guarded,” said Sebastian. “That would make it difficult to infiltrate directly. He also mentioned on his way out that a considerable number of coffins have recently been transported into the monastery.”

            “Coffins, eh?” said Ciel. “Well, then, we know who to visit.”

l

            Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) walked into the Undertaker’s shop, and they saw him standing beside a coffin with his back to them.

            “Undertaker, I have a favor to ask of you,” said Ciel.

            “If that is the case…” Undertaker turned slightly to reveal red glasses and fluorescent eyes. “…Let my humble being relish this most excellent romance!” Grell ran towards Sebastian and (Y/N). They just stepped to the sides and let her slam into the wall.

            “Grell!” exclaimed Ciel.

            “Hi, Earl,” chirped the voice of the actual Undertaker.

            “Undertaker!” Ciel blinked in confusion upon seeing Undertaker buried neck-deep in a pot of salt.

            “He had the impudence to speak disrespectfully about a Grim Reaper, so I pickled him in salt,” said Grell matter-of-factly.

            “Oh, the sensation of moisture slowly leaving the skin…” Undertaker giggled. “It is out of this world!”

            “What are you doing here?” demanded Ciel.

            Grell shrugged. “Investigating something on Will’s orders. However, I did not find much information, and I got hungry and sleepy. Having a restorative afternoon nap in a field of flowers, I somehow ended up being carried here. It could have been a mistake not to breath while sleeping.” She batted her eyelashes at Sebastian and (Y/N). “And there I was, waiting for my true love to wake me up with a nice, long tongue kiss.”

            “I’d smother you in my sleep,” said (Y/N), smiling brightly.

            “The subject of your investigation?” prompted Sebastian coldly.

            “Certain Cinematic Records have been stolen of late,” said Grell with a sigh.

            “Cinematic Records?” said Ciel.

            “No need for a brat like you to know about them,” said Grell.

            Just to be contrary, (Y/N) said, “It is a film of people’s memories of life that play when a reaper collects a soul or strikes the soul with their scythe.”

            “Let me make this very clear: you humans can only see it on the brink of death,” said Grell.

            “You said they were stolen. Can they be stolen?” questioned Sebastian.

            “Well, yes,” said Grell. “They are kept in the library when not in use. The past of all living things—that is to say, of everything that is doomed to die—all the sins and virtues they commit are carefully recorded in the shape of a book.”

            “Rather like a book for their Doomsday,” remarked (Y/N). The coincidence was unlikely to be chance.

            “Yes,” said Sebastian.

            Ciel nodded and turned to Undertaker. “Undertaker, I need you to help me with something.”

            “If so, bestow the finest of laughs upon…” Undertaker looked at Grell dressed up in his clothes and grinned. “On second thought, my service will be free this time.

l

            “Wasn’t the infiltration supposed to be difficult?” muttered Ciel after the cramped ride in coffins (courtesy of Undertaker). Instead of anything seriously difficult, the man at the gate allowed them to walk beside him as he guided the cart of coffins farther into the monastery.

            “Yes, indeed, it should have been,” said Sebastian.

            They passed a nun and a monk, and all three cult members smiled to them cheerfully as they passed.

            “Impeccable smiles, aren’t they?” muttered Ciel.

            “The smiles of those too foolish to understand their own stupidity,” said (Y/N) brightly as they came upon the church itself.

            Inside were stained glass windows with depictions of saints and angels. Wooden pews lined the stone floors, and a dais with a pulpit headed the room.

            “Good evening!” Several little boys ran into the room, all dressed identically (it really was the typical cult). “Good evening! Today was a wonderful day again, don’t you think?”

            “Oh, they are so cute,” cooed Grell. “I have no real care for kids, though.”

            “Good evening, Miss Unclean,” said one of the little boys to Grell. “You really are dirty, through and through.”

            Ordinarily, (Y/N) would find Grell getting called out entertaining, but at the use of the words “unclean” and “dirty,” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Those words were far too familiar.

            “What?!” snapped Grell.

            “Did something happen, Miss Unclean? Are you feeling unwell?” asked another boy.

            Grell hit him over the head. “You brat! Leave the ‘unclean,’ out, you hear?!”

            “Ah! I was touched by an Unclean!” cried the boy. “I must be cleansed!” He and the other boys ran away from Grell into a hallway as a nun walked out.

            The nun chuckled and smiled softly. “After a certain age, all people are considered impure.” She gazed at the four present. “Judging by your clothes, you are recent converts. Don’t worry, once initiated into the teachers of the Founder, you will be purified.”

            “Sebastian,” said Ciel. “Get answers.” It was an order.

            “Impure? That is strange to here,” said Sebastian, obeying. He began to walk towards the nun. “Such a beautiful lady as yourself could not possibly be tainted.” The nun blushed at him as he stood before her, her back to the wall.

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, and their irises flashed fuchsia possessively.

            “I know close to nothing about this religious society,” said Sebastian. “Could you explain it to me in detail?” He smirked sinfully.

            “Of course…” The nun blushed and squirmed under his gaze. “But then, what are you…!”

            Sebastian’s hand slammed into the door by the nun’s head. She squeaked, and he leaned close with a smirk. “There was a bug.” He stood up to his full height, towering over the extremely-attracted-to-him nun. “Now, you will tell me everything, won’t you?”

            “Y-Yes,” stammered the nun. “If you’ll…come with me…” Sebastian took her by the arm and guided her out of the room.

            When he caught (Y/N)’s eye, he was surprised to see their arms crossed, nails almost claws as they gripped their arms tight enough to leave marks. Sebastian’s grip faltered on the nun’s arm.

            But he had his orders.

l

            “Oh, no~! I’ll become unclean!” gasped the nun within the stables as Ciel, (Y/N), and Grell stood outside. Ciel looked uncomfortable, Grell was growling, and (Y/N)…Well, they were close to murder, and Ciel and Grell were a careful distance away, even if they didn’t understand why they looked that way.

            “Ah! I can see it! The gate to Heaven!” cried the nun.

            “Tch,” said Sebastian under his breath. This was not enjoyable in the slightest.

            Outside, (Y/N) tapped their claw-sharp nails against the wooden fence, light scratches digging into the wood. The thought of that prissy, good-two-shoes, prudish, fool of a human touching Sebastian made every demonic instinct hiss for blood. They knew Sebastian owed them no loyalty—they had merely been mentor and apprentice, and he would barely admit to them being actual friends with some sort of bond—but (Y/N) couldn’t stand a naïve little human touching him.

            Grell could see (Y/N)’s eyes turn fuchsia and their claws appearing, and ordinarily she would comment on how attractive they appeared, but for once Grell made the smart decision under the (correct) assumption that one wrong word could get her head torn off.

            “Oh!” cried the nun.

            (Y/N)’s claws shattered the fence.

l

            “The Doomsday Books of those who live a long life become tainted,” explained the nun as she brushed her disheveled hair. She sat in the hay with her dress on as Ciel, Grell, Sebastian, and (Y/N) listened to her. “The Founder purifies a part of the taint recorded in the Book for us. He also says the Doomsday Book contains a record of both the past and the future.”

            “Oh? The future, he says?” remarked Sebastian, but his eyes slid to (Y/N) as he saw the dark look in their eyes.

            “However, the only ones to learn about that are the children chosen for the Heavenly Choir,” said the nun.

            “Heavenly Choir? Are they singing hymns or something?” said Ciel.

            The nun blushed. “The nuances of it are probably somewhat different from simple singing. They let their beautiful voices be heard from the Founder’s bedroom.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed in disgust. Perfect, a place to focus their anger—disgusting perverts that exerted their power over others. (Y/N) would tear them to shreds as soon as they were given the chance.

            And then they might kill that nun, too. But that would be just for fun.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

✨ Ashes Masterlist ✨

So just wanted to say that this will most likely be something that always updates so there's that but just so it's easier to find me other medias I'm going to list em here. If there are any questions or even commissions you want to send just inbox me! ;3

~

Wattpad - Arrow_of_Spite

Ao3 - AshesBreadAndButter

Discord - Ashes_Ashes_We_All_Fall_Down

Patreon - (Reworking)

Cashapp - $ArrowofSpite

Paypal - (Reworking)

Reworking meaning I'll have to set them back up again so currently unavailable but not likely to stay as such.

Last Updated: 02/20/24 @ 11:11

Pink = active link included

Dash with nothing = wip

White titles = Coming Soon

✨ = Fluff

🔞 = Smut

🫂 = Angst

~

👇🏾👇🏾👇🏾 MasterList Continues Below 👇🏾👇🏾👇🏾

-

Avatar

Avatar/Legend of Korra

🔞 Tarlok x Avatar Reader -

🔞 Amon x Avatar Reader -

Across The Spiderverse

🔞🫂✨ Miguel O'Hara x Reader -

The Arcana

🫂 Valdemar x Reader - Kissing the Night Away

🫂🔞 Nadia x Reader - Let's Run Away Together

🔞 Julian x Reader - Bark Lil Doggie

🫂 Julian x Reader - Sunlit Bliss

✨ Vulgora x Reader - Dancing In The Moonlight

🫂✨ Asra x Reader - It's Been So Long

✨Lucio x Reader - My Brave Warrior

The Arcane

✨🫂 Silco x Partner In Crime Reader - Watch The World Burn

🔞 Silco x Nemesis Reader - Lovers Quarrel

🫂 Jinx x Reader - With You to The Very End

Baldurs Gate 3

🫂🔞 Astarion x Reader - I want to Help You Thrive

Black Butler

🔞 Sebastian x Claude - You Know You Can't Live Without Me

🔞 Sebastian x Reader - How About A Little Game Of Hide & Seek?

🔞 Claude x Reader - Heat Of The Moment

✨🔞 Undertaker x Zombie Reader - You are Mine

Castlevania

🫂✨🔞 Alucard x Reader- I Need You To Help Me Forget

🔞 Olrox x Reader - I Might Bite

Creepypasta

🔞 Candypop x Reader - Funtime Wonderland

🔞🫂 Jason the Toymaker x Reader - Be My Doll

🔞 Slenderman x Reader - Cat & Mouse

🔞✨ Jeff the Killer x Reader - I Like Wanting You

Demon Slayer

🫂✨ Uzui Tengen - To the Moon and Back

🔞 Muzan x Reader - Master's Prince/cess

🔞 Douma x Reader - Say That You Can Take It

🔞✨ Hangenki x Reader - Wife of My World

Detroit Becomes Human

🔞✨ Connor x Reader - Let's Break The Rules, Fuck It

🫂🔞 Ralph x Reader - Heated Hotspots

🫂🔞 Marcus x Connor - Nuts & Bolts

🔞✨ Marcus x Reader - Curiosity Killed The Cat

Diabolical Lovers

🔞 Reiji x Reader - Pets Are Meant To be Loyal

✨ Shuu x Reader - Come Cuddle

✨ Ayato x Reader - I Don't Like Sharing

🔞 Laito x Reader - Tastes Like Candy

Elnea Kingdom

Fnaf/Fnaf Security Breach

✨ Sundrop x Reader - Rose Colored Glasses

✨🔞 Moondrop x Reader - Kisses As Hot and Bright As The Stars

Genshin Impact

🔞 Kaeya x Reader - Midnight Lockdown

🔞 Zhongli x Reader -

🔞 Diluc x Reader - Drunken Promises

Gravity Falls (Mostly focused on Bill)

Harry Potter

🔞✨ Severus Snape x Reader - Can't Stop the Attraction

Hazbin Hotel

✨ Alastor x Reader - Just A Taste

🔞 Vox x Reader - Pay Your Dues

🔞 Lucifer x Reader x Alastor - Best Man Wins

🔞 Alastor x Reader x Vox - She Will Be Mine

Hellsing

🫂🔞 Alucard x Reader - The Blood You Shed

🫂✨ Integra x Reader - Come Lay With Me

🫂✨ Seras x Reader - I Feel Safe With You Around

🔞 Alucard x Alexander Anderson - Opportunities At Their Fullest

Helluva Boss

Hunter X Hunter

🔞 Illumi x Reader - Feeding the Wolf

🔞 Hisoka x Reader - A Taste of His Own Medicine

🔞 Hisoka x Reader x Illumi - Where Are You Going?~

🔞 Chrollo x Reader - A Loving Weapon of War

Jujutsu Kaisan

🔞 Gojo Satoru x Reader - A Heated Season To Remember

🔞 Geto Suguru x Reader - My Precious Pet

🔞 Gojo x Reader x Geto - She's Mine

🔞 Nanami x Reader - Boss's Orders

The Lorax

✨ Onceler x Reader - My Heart Sways For You

🔞 Greedler x Reader - You Owe Me

Mandela Catalog

🔞🫂 Gabriel x Reader - Good Enough to Eat

Mortal Kombat

🔞✨ Raiden x Reader - I Can't Get Enough of You

🔞 Kollector x Reader - I Want My Prize

🔞 Johnny Cage × Reader - Tell Me You're A Good Boy

✨ Baraka x Reader - Love Like No Other

Mystic Messenger

🔞 707 x Reader - Stalker's Obsession

🔞 Jumin Han x Reader - Pretty Little Kitty

🔞 Zen x Reader - Pretty Boy

My Hero Academia

🔞 Aizawa x Reader - Don't Make Me Put You In Your Place

Naruto Shippuden

✨ Itachi x Reader - Sun Kissed Smooches

🔞✨ Orochimaru x Reader - Worshipping His Greatness

✨ Sasuke x Reader - Shut Up Before I Make You

Obey Me

🔞 Lucifer x Reader - Pissing Him Off

🔞✨ Asmodeus x Reader - Sun Shine and Sun Lit Smiles

🔞 Leviathan x Reader - I Can't Wait Any Longer

🔞🫂 Simeon x Reader - I'll Sacrifice It All For You

Records of Ragnarok

🔞 Poseidon x Reader - Devotional Acts

Resident Evil

🔞 Leon Kennedy x Reader - Not The Best Time

🔞 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader (FEM) - A Loyal Pet Is A Good Pet

Rise of The Guardians

🔞 Pitch Black x Guardian Reader - I Could Be Convinced

SCP Foundation

🔞🫂 SCP 049 x Reader - Crave Your Touch

Stardew Valley

🫂 Elliot x Reader - Would Be Nothing Without You

Steven Universe

🔞🫂 Garnet x Amethyst - Make Me Shut Up

🔞🫂 Pearl x Amethyst - It's So Good It Hurts

Tokyo Revengers

🔞 Kokonoi x Reader - Pay Up Buttercup

🔞 Hanma Shuji x Reader - I Want You Near Me

🫂 Older Baji x Reader - Put Your Hands In Mine

Twilight Series

🫂✨ Sam Uley x Leah Clearwater (Commissioned! :3)

Undertale

🔞✨ Mettaton X Reader - Time Of Your Life

Vampire Hunter D

✨🔞 D x Vampire Reader - Come Here Often?

✨ D x Werewolf Reader - Pets & Cuddles

NOTE: Some characters I write for and others I don't, some of these series I need to catch up on, and OCS and such ARE allowed.

If you have any questions that you feel should be asked should be asked directly and be easy to understand. I am an open book, don't be afraid to ask me anything if you are looking for a commission.

Once you send in your money refunds will NOT be available.

More notes and info on commissions...

--> HERE (not clickable RN but it will be)

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Like I said I'm working on saving money while I rehabilitate so I can order things I could use to make things better.

To anyone and everyone in advance who will be buying, I thank you!

I also want to start taking in ART COMMISSIONS which can be found...

--> HERE. (I will add a link soon :3)

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-A