#seraphim scar

[tibby-art]

BE NOT AFRAID :J

[mooneln0ne]

a drawing from early march

[therealjustpeachesback]

my man… my man..

[elettraml]

Whιsρᥱr

Ashtaroth and Ljlith, my two original characters inspired by the original artwork of honeyypears ✨💫

[moongothic]

I know it's just the Terminal Crocodile Brainworms speaking but like

We know both Kuma and Iva-chan would become members of the Revolutionary Army 16 years after the two meet at God's Valley

And like. I can't help but to wonder if Kuma's flashback is going to tie to the backstory of the Revolutionary Army and how he joined the cause, especially since we are going to learn about Iva-chan's backstory at the same time backstory (and Bonney's??? Mom??? I'm assuming???)

And while I don't think we're going to learn much about Dragon through this backstory because. IDK I feel like Oda would save that for later, right now doesn't feel like The Time To Reveal Dragon's Backstory. Not to mention, if this backstory is meant to be About Kuma first and foremost, then adding Dragon into this mix would just distract from Kuma and Bonney's relationship, the current heart of the story (also is why I want to believe Ginny is Bonney's mom, since that would also tie to the heart of the story)

But I can't help but to wonder... if Crocodile was a member of the Revolutionary Army for a while, then might we see him even just briefly at some point during this flashback? Maybe? Perhaps? Even for just a panel or two? Please? Pretty please? 👉👈

[d0not-disturb]

Hermits as hazbin sinners send ask

I READ THIS WRONG BUT HERE ARE THEM IN HAZBIN HOTEL 😭

Grian + Mumbo seraphim’s

Plus ONE scar🔥🔥

Sorryyyy I got distracted 😜😜 forgot about everyone else 🥰✅

[fanaticsnail]

My Favorite

(Image Source: Artist: Inpolariis)

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,114

Summary: Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?

Themes: Boss!Crocodile x Assassin!Reader, lap princess, Croc is in love with you, begrudgingly in love, mutual pining, “I don’t want to fix him, I want to make him worse”, wealth, Cross-Guild dynamics, partial Buggy x Reader, partial Mihawk x Reader, sign language, afab!reader.

Notes: This fic is dedicated to the wonderful @discordantwritings who wrote a beautiful Benn Beckman fic recently. I had to return the favor with some Cross-Guild content, although it became quickly a Sir Crocodile fic. Based on this prompt, because it has a hold over my very soul.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @writingmysanity @gingernut1314

The broad right hand of the brutish Sir Crocodile massaged his temples beneath his thumb and index finger. He began rotating them in an attempt to rid the swelling migraine caused by the crackled whines pouring from the lips of his clown companion. Barely paying attention to the whinging words strung into messy sentences, his ears pricked and spine tingled at the knowledge there was another presence within the hollow chambers of the Cross-Guild meeting space. 

Bringing his hand away from his temple, his smirk broke the displeased position of his lips, as his eyes rose to meet with the yellow hue of the gaze of the swordsman. Mihawk narrowed his eyes, no longer processing Buggy’s words as he attempted to locate the source responsible for the expression change of the larger gentleman in front of him. 

“-And I wasn’t the one responsible for that screw up, so I shouldn’t be the one paying for it. Really it should go to the one with the most berry. Who was it again? Between the reptile and the hawk, who has the most-.” Buggy’s voice halted as the shadows split to reveal your presence, stalking closer to the largest man in the room with an aura of silent danger. 

Mihawk reached for the hilt of Yoru, ready to strike your approaching silhouette: armored and cloaked in the darkest black to blend within smoke and shadow. Your hood concealed your face, your facial mask shieling all but the intensity of your eyes smeared in darkened war paint. You made no sound; no tap, no whisper as you wordlessly approached Sir Crocodile.

“Returned so soon, my Seraphim,” his voice purred, leaning back in his chair while placing a thick cigar between his teeth, “Did all go according to plan?” You wordlessly bent your knee, bowing your head to the large gentleman to whom you entrusted your implicit loyalty. His smile drew further up his scarred face, the purple hue of his eyes dancing with a dangerous twinkle at your wordless confirmation. 

“Good,” his voice praised you, reaching for his lighter lying atop the table. You rose to your feet, quickly reaching for the golden object, flicking open the lid and igniting the flint to spark its flame. Sir Crocodile leant forward, holding his eyes firmly on yours as your concentration was fixed on the task of lighting the tip of his cigar. 

He narrowed his eyes, noticing a small smear of red atop the darkened warpaint and streaking down your face mask and onto your leather breastplate. He sighed, reaching into his left hand breast pocket and fishing out a silver handkerchief and passed it to you within his index and middle fingers. 

“Is it yours?” he asked, gesturing to the blood congealed and spattered against your uniform. 

“No, sir,” you whispered with no vocal tone depicted within your silence. He hummed in response, narrowing his eyes as he scanned your body further. 

“Are you unharmed and unmarked?” he asked, his left brow raising in question. You stiffened your shoulders, arching your chin within the air and confirmed with a simple utterance of: “Yes, sir.” 

“Very good, my Seraphim,” he complimented further, inhaling a deep lungful of the nicotine laden cigar smoke, exhaling through his nose. Buggy did not know what to make of this interaction, feeling completely and utterly ignored as Mihawk and Sir Crocodile’s eyes and attention remained fixed on your statuesque figure clad in cloak, leather and dark plated armor. 

Leaning forward, Sir Crocodile ushered you to stoop forward to receive the next whisper of a command parting from his lips for your ears alone.

“I have laid out a new uniform for you to wear,” he uttered intimately, reaching up his left hand with his golden hook threatening to touch your shoulder. “See to it you are bathed, perfumed and clad in the ensemble within the hour,” the tip of his hook brushed with the rivets of your shoulder plate, dragging down your bicep to the inner crevice of your elbow, “And I will have you sat as my trophy upon my knee for the evening, my Seraphim.” 

At that final utterance, he withdrew his hook from your arm and focussed once more on your eyes now depicting a darkness within usually withheld for victims beneath your concealed daggers. 

Bowing to your boss, eyes now closed, you rose from your deep and respectful stoop and paid no mind to glance at the other two members of the meeting space. If Sir Crocodile found no reason to introduce you to these men, you did not deem them important enough to care who they were. Silence followed you as you trailed outside of the room, resubmerging yourself within the shadows and hastily making your way to the suite gifted to you by your boss.

“Baroque Works employee, Crocodile?” Mihawk uttered, his eyes fixed on the exit you withdrew from. 

“A thing of the past, Hawk,” His smirk not leaving his face for each deep inhale of his cigar, “I no longer put my faith in an amassment of bounty hunters to get their hands dirty for my berry.” He took the butt of his cigar from his teeth and pushed the ignited end against the glass tray with his thumb. “No, my faith is no longer spread to the many, but to the few.” 

“How many o’ them you got?” Buggy’s nasally voice chimed in, his brow furrowing and lips curling back in an uneasy smile, “Like twenty or thirty?”

“I have nine,” he confessed, eyes now bored with the conversation and lip curling down into an arrogant snarl, “And that one,” he gestured to the door with his chin, “Is my favorite.”

“Why?” Buggy asked, his voice cracking in a small apprehensive whine at the end of his question, “What does that one do that the others don’t?” Sir Crocodile’s lips curled into a darkened grin, his teeth revealed in the light. 

“You will see.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

After bathing and cleaning yourself of the debris and carnage of the last assignment, you glanced at yourself in your large, ornate mirror. Looking over the new uniform set aside by your boss as it clung to your body, you couldn’t help the pull of a shy smile at the corner of your lips.

Of all of “The Choirs” founded and financed by Sir Crocodile, it was no illusion that you were absolutely and without a doubt his favorite. Your titles held your specialist skills as covert assassins within your roles; each skilled with a unique ability to complete your tasks to the utmost quality. 

Principalitie, Archangel, and Angel were charged with gathering information and relaying it from a great distance. They were to look like civilians; innocent and coy with the ability to blend into a crowd seamlessly. 

The Devil-Fruit users; Dominion, Virtue, and Power, were charged with carrying out tyrannical punishment and wrath without care for the casualties they caused under the utterance of a single command from your hook-handed leader. 

Cherubim and Ophanim, the two of the higher in the chain of command, followed your explicit instruction in covert operations taken either together or separately. They were your trusted confidants, you could even call them your friends if it were not too bold to say so. 

You, his ‘Seraphim’, were silent and embraced by shadows with such flawless success that it was rumored you were born in them. You were lethal with your daggers, your skill with a blade a sight to behold before life was drained from your intended target. The last thing they saw as their breath was claimed by your hand, was the ferocity in your blown pupils and lengthy eyelashes beneath the dark warpaint smeared atop your eyelids. 

Glancing over your features once more, the pale white of the dress held stark contrast to the dark armor you adorned almost an hour prior. While your armor kept all of your features hidden to the world around you, the anonymity shielding you from emphasis on your features; this dress left little to the imagination. 

The deep hook of the backless dress clung low to your hips in an ovular shape, bodice dipping down to above your navel with a thin band of fabric dancing above your cleavage to suture the bust shut with barely any support. The length of the dress halted little below your hip bone on the left-hand side, the right hand side down to the ball of your ankle to allow for the straps of your gold heels to be revealed with each step you took against the floor. 

Your mind begins to wander the longer you stare at yourself in the mirror. This was the most provocative and scandalous item your boss had ever asked you to don. You almost allowed yourself to rush to the conclusion that your boss harbored more than simple favoritism for you, you assumed you were wearing this ensemble to impress a guest with your presence on his lap. 

Silence was nearly impossible with the gold-dipped base of your heeled shoes. Each step you took after exiting your suite echoed in a foreign clack that you were unaccustomed to creating with your foot-falls. 

Immediately upon entering the large celebratory area of Sir Crocodiles casino, you scanned the perimeter of the room for your boss to begin your new role for the night: the princess sitting upon his knee and doting on him with small caresses and whispers of praise within his ear. This was not a role you were exposed to often, but one you did well enough for him to continue asking for you after the first night you played it. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said you did not harbor affection for your boss. Nothing ever transpired between you after you had finished this role for the nights he asked you to fulfill. No brush of lips meeting yours, no writhing while sprawled out beneath him against the green fuzz of the gamblers table. He would bow his head in gratitude to you, his eyes blinking shut out of respect, and dismissing you without a further word. 

Adoration, respect, loyalty, and your wage is what bound you to that man. At each moment he spent with you on his lap, or performing a deadly task for him, your desire grew. You knew, without a semblance of a doubt, that you would cast aside your wage with an instant for the luxury of remaining by his side. You loved him, and it was the only thing that truly frightened you.

After concluding your brief scan of the room, you noticed Sir Crocodile was yet to make an appearance to darken the tables with his brutish figure. However, you smiled upon meeting the eyes of ‘Ophanim’ dressed in a simple waiter's uniform, with her sleeves rolled to her elbows and shaking a steel container filled with ice, syrups and hard liquor. She shot you a wink, gesturing with her chin to wait with her at the bar. 

An honest smile sprung to your lips as you grasped the barstool within your hands, taking a seat atop it and hooking your left knee over your right; the slit of your dress revealing the entirety of your left leg to your thigh. 

Immediately as you began to open your mouth to converse with your fellow “Choir” about her latest mission, your eyes were thrust into an amassment of lengthy cerulean hair. The person seemed to ignore you as their voice informed your friend of his order of a fruit-forward and harsh liquor cocktail with an insane amount of complex ingredients. The products he asked for sounded as if it would split and separate, with the immediate souring of creamy liquid with the acidic elements. 

Grimacing with your lips curled in disgust, the individual turned to meet your disapproving gaze: his eyes widening and breath hitching in his throat. A large, rotund red nose lay central to his features, his dark vest cinching his waist beneath a white shirt and dark trousers. He looked as if he was not comfortable wearing the assortment, as if it was a mask he was given to wear akin to your arrangement set aside by your boss. 

“You are fucking gorgeous,” he stumbled over his words, the syllables falling from his lips quicker than he could silence them within. Immediately your grimace upturned into a smile, forcing a laugh to flee from you at his unbridled compliment. You arched your left brow up, leaning in close to the individual in front of you and tightening his dark tie with your right hand. 

“You are very easy to look at, yourself,” you purred in return, assuming your flirtatious role with ease. You darted your gaze between his two teal eyes, a coy smile now pursing your lips together innocently, “And who might you be, bright eyes?” Your question had his heart swelling, his cheeks filling with a boyish fluster. 

“B-Buggy,” he wheezed, gulping back his words and grunting out a small cough to mask his uneasiness. “Captain Buggy D Clown,” he attempted to meet his elbow atop the bar, missing the polished wood entirely and instead stumbling under the uneven distribution of his weight. As air met his elbow with the heel of his palm capturing his chin, he flew his head down and met it against the wood with a harsh thump. 

Wincing in empathy, you immediately reached forward and claimed his cheeks within your palms and raised him back up to his former stature. You brushed his shoulders, readjusted his collar and checked over the rising swell atop his left temple. 

“Honey, can we get some ice please?” you asked your colleague who attempted to halt her laugh behind her palm, nodding as she retrieved the frosty cubes and placed them within a checkered tea towel. She passed it to you and shook her head, you nodding your thanks at her for the object and immediately reaching for the blunt-force trauma the blue-haired clown brought upon himself. 

“Are you alright Captain Buggy?” You asked him, holding your hand against the towel and pressing it firmly against the rising bruise. He clasped his left hand around your right, leaning into the touch you were providing him and closing his eyes. 

“I like the way your tongue makes my name sound,” he confessed in a breathy gasp. You again found yourself laughing at his words, the melodic ring of your voice stirring something dangerous within the purple hues of Sir Crocodile’s eyes. He continued watching your interaction with Buggy from his place darkening the threshold of the entrance to his casino. 

“What happened, Clown?” A voice called behind him, the curve of a pale shirt clinging to the back of a dark-haired individual you could barely see. Buggy apprehensively turned away from you and lulled his head towards the man with a snarling expression. 

“It’s her fault,” he gestured to you with his thumb, “She was sittin’ on that chair all innocent-like, as if she doesn’t look like walking sex.” 

“Hardly walking if she’s sitting,” the man called over in a bored and disinterested tone, without sparing so much as a glance in your direction. You found him intriguing, but you decided to match his energy and remain aloof to his comments yourself. 

Turning away from the two men beside you, you began moving your hands in a flurry of wordless gestures to your coworker as discreetly as you could.

‘Where is he?” you asked her, watching her hands flicker in response as she continued to attempt to uphold her own persona as bartender.

“Approaching slowly,” she managed to signal to you, before she placed a glass of wine in front of the broody aloof gentleman beside the clown. The corner of his lips ticked at the corner, a whisper of gratitude depicted on his face as he turned to face you with the crystal glass rising upwards. 

The small widening of his honey-coloured eyes told you all you needed to know within his gaze. Your head cocked to the side, your eyes wide and feigning innocence to the best of your abilities. 

“My, my,” he commented, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body from your decorated toes to the follicles of your styled hair, “I do see why you would be the cause for such a stumble.” He expertly brushed the blue-haired man away from you, extending his right hand forward to seek out your own and collecting your four fingers within his grip. 

He raised your hand to his lips, his mustache tickling the knobbed joints of your knuckles before his lips brushed against your flesh. Your eyes turned sultry, not once either of you breaking your eye contact against one another. 

Unable to control the rapidity of the thump within his chest and the dry lump forming in his throat, Sir Crocodile began a stalking approach towards you. How dare they fawn over you. You: his favorite of his Choirs. His angelic muse and harbinger of brutality. 

He knew you would make heads turn with the uniform he laid out for you, but he did not anticipate the primal urge swelling beneath him to pull you into himself and shield you away from their eyes. He wanted you all for himself, in any capacity you were willing to give it to him. He didn’t care that you were paid berry to serve him, it felt real enough for him.

“Dracule Mihawk,” he uttered against your flesh, withdrawing from his stoop and arching his back to puff his barely shielded chest to you, “And you are, my darling?” Before you could answer with your name, you felt a warm graze dancing up your spine. His breath tickled against your skin, tingling your spine beneath his lips as they pressed intent and longing to your flesh. 

On any other occasion, you may have been alarmed by such attention from an individual without seeing their face. The cologne dancing with the whisper of his last cigar floated with each kiss against your skin, informing you exactly who was giving you such a touch. 

He had never offered you this unbridled affection in the past, not allowing himself to give into his craving for you, and you not willing to test your place serving under him. This touch felt natural, his lips continuing to press into you, as you continued to hold your gaze on the eyes of the dark-haired man in front of you. 

Sir Crocodile’s lips found your left shoulder, his purple eyes pulling the swordsman’s attention away from you to meet with your boss as he continued to map his lips up your neck to your jaw. His left forearm circled around your front, the golden hook firmly secured against his wrist collecting your chin beneath the smooth surface. He turned your attention away from Mihawk to look into his eyes through lowered eyelashes. 

He leant forward, drawing your lips against his by the gentle tilt of his hook against your chin. Darting his tongue out to stroke yours, his nose brushed against your own as he circled his jaw to deepen the embrace. Your hands clutched the base of the stool you were sat atop to anchor yourself down for fear of floating to the roof. The hum of his lips in joy had a small moan pull from your lips the longer he was joined against you. 

You felt his right hand brush against your bicep, curling his firm grip around it as he pushed his chest flush with your own with a gentle turn of your body. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes immediately falling to your rapidly swelling and kiss-bruised lips, slightly smudged paint falling below the perimeter of your bottom lip. Tapping your chin with his hook, your eyes darted from your own gaze against his lips to meet with his purple eyes. 

“My Seraphim,” the rumble of his voice and the small smirk of his lips had your attention hyper fixed and hanging on his every word. You held your gaze firmly affixed to his, watching as he turned away from you and greeted the men in front of you with the nod of his head and the small utterance of their names.

“Mihawk,” the rumble of his voice rubbing within his throat had your spine tingle with anticipation, “Buggy.” He turned back to meet your orbs that had not yet broken from his face, but raked your gaze over his face with half-lidded lashes. Your eyes continued to float in a daze against his lips and flittering back up to meet his gaze. 

He extended his right hand in a gesture for you to take it, you reacting immediately by placing your hand within his larger palm to encircle his digits around it. You allowed him to pull you away from your former position atop the barstool, your heels clicking against the floor as he escorted you to the desired table for the night. Now in the shroud of seclusion, he leaned down and uttered a small apology in your ear. 

“Forgive me,” he began, taking his seat within the plush armchair and patting his left knee with his right. Without hesitation, you gracefully placed yourself atop his thigh with the small flick of your hair, crossing your left knee over your right and arching your back. 

“What sins am I forgiving, sir?” you asked him, feeling the dangerous caress of his hook brushing against your spine and collecting a small portion of your hair within its curvature. Your boss took in a deep breath through his nose, expanding his broad chest beneath his suit jacket. His exhale had a small quake to it, his eyes closing as he basked under your attention.

You reached your hands and began to dance your fingertips against the hem of his collar. Although this was a routine you had practiced with him over man a night on his lap, this touch felt almost forbidden as his brows furrowed. 

“I should not have kissed you like that,” he uttered in a voice below a hushed whisper, “You deserve better than something so public. I desire you-... -for you to be treated as a seraphim I know you to be.” His vocal catch had your attention completely focussed on every word, your body leaning itself further as your hands halted their movement. 

“I am not a seraphim, sir,” your lips were now almost brushing with the shell of his ear, your hypnotic perfume, intoxicating and mesmerizing the larger gentleman the longer your presence remained atop his lap. He angled his head away from you, exposing the side of his neck to reveal the rapidity of his heartbeat displayed against his pulse. 

“And what are you, if not a seraphim,” he whispered darkly, allowing to be disarmed by your presence as he leant into your touch, yet away from the descent of your lips upon his ear. 

“I am your seraphim,” you confessed as your lips grazed against the sensitive flesh of his cheek, his dark hair tickling against your eyes. 

Sir Crocodile was glad he had withdrawn you to a secluded portion of his casino at this moment. He truly did not desire for the other two members of the Cross-Guild to notice how much of a grip you truly had around his heart, but refused to break away from your display of unrestrained physical affection. He knit his brows together, furthering their descent down his face as he processed your words.

“Because I pay you to be,” he uttered, leaning away from your touch and forcing the mask of his arrogance back onto his features. He dropped the hook from your hair, reaching his right hand into his left breast pocket to locate a thick cigar and his golden lighter. Placing the bitten end between his teeth and clamping down on it, he drew the flame up to his lips and attempted to ignite the end. 

“I will return my wage to you,” you uttered quietly after swiping the golden lighter from his hand and reigniting the flame, “I have no need for it when you take care of me so well.” His eyes held an aloof boredom to his expression, refusing to meet with your face as you lit his cigar for him. 

“And if my wealth was taken from me?” He questioned before inhaling the smoke from his cigar, exhaling it away from your face, “If I was to go to prison once more, what then?” Your eyes narrowed, your lip curling up to reveal your displeasure at the question.

“I would claw tooth and nail to free you from your confinement, sir,” you confessed, reaching your left hand forward and collecting his chin beneath your thumb and index finger, turning his jaw for his eyes to meet with yours once more, “And although living in luxury is a welcome experience, I would stand by you regardless.” His eyes depicted his craving for your words to be true, although not believing it yourself. 

He began to open his mouth to speak, silenced by your words cutting through the air like your daggers meeting with the jugular of your foe. 

“You have my loyalty, my blades, and my body at your disposal,” you leant forward further, darting your eyes between focusing on each of his. “Should you order me to jump, I will ask how high. Should you ask me to kneel, I will fall to my knees,” you continued, your grip holding more firmly against his chin, “Should you wordlessly aim your finger at an enemy, I would be a channel of your wrath as I claim their lives for you.” 

Allowing a few moments of thick silence to swell between you, you felt the scrape of his hook trailing itself against your spine, hovering over the soft point of your rib and pressing his point firmly into your flesh. 

“While your words are as beautiful as you are,” he whispered, looking down at the plunging neck of your dress and back up into your eyes, “They are as decorated by the impact of my wealth as your body is in that dress.” You narrowed your eyes at his comment, taking the expression as a challenge. 

Shrugging away from the point of his hook, you rose to your feet between his legs and slowly drew your hands up to the thin straps on your shoulders. You hooked your thumbs beneath the material and began to slowly slip the material over your shoulders and down your biceps. Sir Crocodile’s eyes widened, immediately reaching his right hand and left forearm to halt your hands from revealing more of your flesh to him. 

“What are you doing?” His growl should’ve had your actions stuttering in any other setting, but his rasp had your heart beating in desire in place of fear. 

“I have already informed you that I will be returning my wage to you,” you cocked your head to the side, arching your back towards him and looking down at him under your lustful expression, “Why not start with the dress you claim to despise so much.” The rise of his fluster depicted in his eyes at your words had a smirk drawing up to decorate your lips. 

“What has someone like me done to deserve such devotion from you, my seraphim?” he whispered, his right hand elevating the strap of your left shoulder and securing it firmly in its prior place. You followed suit with your right strap, securing it firmly against your shoulder and leaning further into his welcome embrace. 

He leant his torso closer to you, his broad forearms circling over your own with his fingertips brushing against your skin. You began to open your mouth, confessing your adoration for your boss further upon the tip of your tongue before crudely interrupted by the presence of the blue-haired clown followed behind by the broody gentleman from earlier.

“Are we playin’ cards yet, Croco?” Buggy’s voice hitched as he met with an intimate moment shared between you and Sir Crocodile. Your boss’ hands caressed your skin, pulling you against his torso as he aimed his disapproving gaze over your right shoulder. 

He growled at the interruption, his voice holding more feral animosity than he felt he should. You drew your hand up to claim his cheek in the palm of your right hand, looking down at him with your eyes holding your unspoken answer of lustful adoration at him. His breath hitched as his gaze met with yours, prompting his right hand to grasp the flesh of your back firmer within his spread fingertips. 

“I recall you having barely enough berry to survive the last time we played, Clown,” Mihawk’s aloof tone called from beside him. Neither you nor Sir Crocodile paid either man any mind, too wrapped up in the intimate moment you were sharing holding one another. 

You removed the cigar from Crocodile’s teeth in your left hand, stooping forward and claiming his lips beneath your own. Your nose brushed against his, the kiss as hastily departing in severance of the connection as it did in its descent. He arched his chin up, chasing your retreat with his eyes closed. 

“Shall I get the table ready, sir?” You asked him in a subtle whisper, relishing in the small hum of pleasure falling from the lips of your boss. His eyes split slowly open, remaining half-lidded as he lulled his head on his neck to glance at you. The silver mark splitting his face danced in the illuminance of the soft bar light, his striking features appearing more chiseled under its glow. 

“Please,” he spoke slowly, his tongue darting out and danced as the ‘L’ passed his lips. You raked his hair back over his scalp, replacing the fallen strands in their rightful place, while leaning down once more with a smirk.

“Right away, sir,” you purred at him while returning his cigar to his teeth, watching as he bit the tip with a small snarl. Turning and walking away to collect several items to place atop the green felt for your boss to engage in a game of cards with his two unlikely colleagues, eyes fixed on your back as you exited the secluded area.

“Who is she?” Buggy’s shocked voice cracked out the stuttered question also plaguing Mihawk’s mind. Sir Crocodile relaxed in his chair, inhaling the cigar smoke deeply into his lungs and holding it. Upon it exiting from his lungs, he confessed the place you held within his heart with the utterance of two words.

“My favorite.”

[justa-fanfic-writer]

Suprise adoption

Summary: You came back home with a few bruises and some scars while carrying a small child that looked like him. Now you both are parents to said child.

Pairing: Domestic Mihawk x Male Reader

Content warning: None

Genre: Fluff

---------------------------------------

It was a quiet evening, birds chirping, trees swaying a bit from the wind it was a perfect day to relax and do nothing.

Mihawk was reading the news to see if there was anything interesting happening while drinking black coffee.

Until...

SLAM!

Mihawk heard the door slam open, and he already knew who it was. It was his husband [Reader] who was screaming his name with excitement, running towards him with a wide grin while holding something or someone.

Mihawk wasn't phased when he saw him until he saw his spouse holding something behind his back he took a good look at it, and it was a child...? Mihawk raised one of his eyebrows and asked what he was holding behind his back and than [Reader] smiled even wider and showed him what it is and spoke.

"Look, Mihawk, I kidnapped found a child when i was exploring egghead Island, and he looks just like you! isn't he just adorable? Let's adopt him!"

The child was stoically looking at him while crossing his arms together, demanding why he was taken here.

Mihawk looking at said child and to put it frankly, not surprised at the slightest he had a pink bubblegum goth and a moss headed swordsman who had no sense of directions dropped at his and your castle out of the blue so he didn't care if there was another one coming to freeload at his home again.

He was amused by your enthusiasm when you wanted to adopt him, oh well. Whatever his love wants, he will get and do no questions asked. (Wish I had a lover like him fr)

After you had forcibly adopted the seraphim child, You and Mihawk took care of him as if he were your actual child. The little hawk was warming up to you both quickly and started to see you both as his parent figures, and he even called Mihawk and You, his dad, and Papa!

Nothing really changed that much, except you both now have a bio-engineered seraphim child that had an unfathomable amount of strength, but what's the worst that can happen?

Everything

First order of business, You and Mihawk had started working on the murder tendencies that Vegapunk had put on the child instead of wanting to murder everything as if that would solve all problems.

Second order of business try to give the said murder tendency child a normal childhood like like giving him wooden toy swords or a plushie and not make the child feel as if his an object.

Mihawk is a dad by nature he even has the skills and reflexes to prove it too.

Mihawk wouldn't be the spoiling type of parent if anything discipline would be high on his list of parenting the child you're probably gonna be the one who would spoil the child because I mean how could you say no to the little baby-hawk hm? Or not who knows.

Mihawk is a quiet man, and so is the child. While baby-hawk doesn't always communicate verbally, he makes up for it by for example doing some gestures like holding up books for You to read to him or tugging You or Mihawk's leg to point or say if he wants something.

Now imagine this scenario.

it's just that You and Mihawk are asleep cuddling in bed, and then you both wake up to mini-hawk, turning on the lights.

You groggily rubbed your eyes, and Mihawk was a little irritated that mini-hawk woke you both up, and then you asked mini-hawk why he woke you both up and than he said.

"I want to sleep with Dad and Papa"

Mini-hawk said stoically while keeping a serious face on and holding his favorite toy sword you bought for him.

You then cooed at the child and scooted over and patted the bed, letting him sleep in the middle, and You and Mihawk started sleeping while also cuddling the child in the middle just a happy gothic family bond.

All in all, it was just You, Mihawk, and your little child goth, and he wanted nothing more than that.

The world's strongest swordsman, the cute house husband, and the little baby swordsman, what a chaotic yet beautiful happy family, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

---------------------------------------

Sorry if it's short. This is all I could think of...

[diejager]

First Cw: Smut, sex work, porn, cam girl, dildo, riding, dildo mount, self-hate, depressive thought?, whorshiping, tell me if I missed any.

Part 4

He watched your live, your body writhing in your sheets, back arched and head thrown back in pleasure. His body unmoving, body rigid underneath his armour, eyes unblinking and back straightening against the backrest, as he stared at his screen. He never touched himself when he watched you from afar, eyeing your hips rolling against the mount you strapped to a pillow, riding the dildo you suctioned to the plastic stand.

You rode it slowly, chest heaving while you ran your hands over your breasts in a sensual way, your finger running over your glossy lips, caressing your jaw and down the curve of your throat, your sweaty and shimmering skin. Your hands travelled down the valley of your tits, pinching your perky nipples with painted nails, a pretty red, powerful and vibrant —sexy in every manner. His eyes followed the hand that dipped down your stomach, over your slick mound and spreading your lips to show your viewers the silicone cock that stretched you out.

His hot breath sounded loudly behind his mask, it would've fogged up his glass if he wore any, his laboured breathing coming out in shoulder-moving puffs. His cruel eyes dilated, pupil rounder than usual as his eyes stuck obsessively at your cunt, his ears ringing with the loud, echoing squelch of your cunt and the eerie silence of his locked room, and body strained with self-restraint, fingers curled into a fist. He felt dazed, mind numbed to all but you and what you brought out of him: his slurred reaction, his oversensitive nerves and his increased heat.

You were like a drug to him —addiction, ascension, delirium. Your mewls breaching his broken mind and your bouncing body burning itself into his eyes, hearing and watching you gush around the toy, cunt fluttering wildly as you shuddered, hair sticking to your forehead and skin flushed. Despite his growing needs, the swelling that tightened his pants to an uncomfortable extent, he made no move to chase it, to soothe the pain and ache that filled his body, like a wave crashing against his scarred and disfigured body, and the wind blowing him away like the insignificant specks of sand that caked the earth.

He wouldn’t touch himself after the show, sending you money for the perfect show and drowning himself in a freezing shower to wash off the sin, his greatest mistake of loving something so precious and beautiful. He let his cock grow soft under the water, the occasional jump of his cock reacting to the arousal that still lingered in his bloodstream and the coolness of the water.

He couldn’t help himself, he promised, he fought, he glared, but nothing could stop a wandering mind, a needy and vulnerable shell of a broken man that wanted nothing but a fleeting moment of love, of affection —of utter devotion.

“Hello?” The voice was as sweet as the last time he heard it, the softness and affection that deepened his scars, “Nikto?”

“Милая,” his voice came out in a low rasp, throat dried and muscle dehydrated. He spent too much time hiding himself than caring for himself, “You did well.” [Sweetheart]

You laughed, your gentle and angelic chuckle at his compliment —fitting the stage name you used, Seraphim. He was reminded again why talking to you felt like a sin, blasphemy committed by him to his goddess. Perhaps he shouldn’t have called, daring to be so near a being much greater than him, pure and fragile. For all his self-restraint, he was a weak, weak man, always chasing for more when he’s already lost so much.

“Thank you,” you sighed. He heard sheets shuffle, your body rolling to your stomach, face propped up on your chin while he spoke to you on the phone, “When are you coming back?”

“Cкоро.” [Soon.]

Part 6

Taglist: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan @blackhoodlea @daisychainsinknots @under-the-dirt @moansteur @iamnotfinedaddy @0alk0msan @katzarantos @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @artemeow @nes-kopi @notspiders @waves-against-a-cliff @brokenpieces-72 @princessboohaloo @petwifed @craxy-person  @aldis-nuts @randominstake @yanderestory @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @redeveryflower @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @cummunistcat

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: "I'll go to the next Heaven meeting only if I get to be your un-filter."

Charlie: "My un-filter?"

Vaggie: "Your anger concentrate."

Charlie: "I'm not angry!"

Vaggie: "Sweetie."

Charlie: "Well SAYING I'm angry won't make anything better SO-"

Vaggie: "It'd make me feel better."

Charlie: ".... you won't threaten to kill anyone."

Vaggie: "Literally? No."

Charlie: "You won't bring your spear?"

Vaggie: "Words will be my only weapon I promise."

Charlie: "And you'll sit right next to me and we'll pull our chairs close enough so we're touching and you'll hold my hand whenever I'm not making a dramatic gesture or holding up a sample drawing so I don't get up and strangle anyone?"

Vaggie: "I'll be glued to your side."

Charlie: "Okay, then-"

Vaggie: "Like one of Niffty's petrified bug victims who slowly starved to death on a adhesive strip just out of reach of food and water-"

Charlie: "UM."

Vaggie: "-sorry, still mentally scarred from that."

Vaggie: "I'll be glue to you like, uh, frosting on a... cupcake?"

Charlie: "Or you can just sit next to me as Vaggie, my partner." (hugs gf) "I like you best like that~"

Vaggie: "Well that's me always. My favorite place and thing to be, too."

Charlie: "Then this next meeting is going to go AMAZINGLY."

-the meeting-

Charlie: "-now! Seraphim Sera, regarding your choice to start the exterminations in the first place-"

Sera: "I-"

Vaggie: "This is all your fault, dumbass, and everyone knows it."

Charlie: "-despite you delegating the ACTUAL, um, fulfillment of your Hell population reduction quotas to Adam and his Exorcists, and your hands off approach to overseeing the management of said Exorcists, he WAS still acting under YOUR authority-"

Sera: "You-"

Vaggie: "There's blood on your heavenly hands, even if you're too much of a coward to ever see it there."

Charlie: "-considering the physical and emotional damage and SCARS that said actions left on at least ONE former Exorcist, introducing Vaggie as exhibit A-"

Sera: "This is hardly relevant to-"

Vaggie: "Talk about heaven being a lie huh? Not even an angel gets a trial before damnation."

Charlie: "-I, and my father, we would be strongly in favor of you PERSONALLY taking over direct leadership of the surviving Exorcists, rather than leaving them in the hands of Lute, who- while I'm sure she's very capable- WAS Adam's lieutenant, and often took initiative in his way of managing things."

Sera: "I have more than enough to do without adding-"

Vaggie: "Suck it up and take responsibility for shit for once instead of talking about how sad being in charge makes you. And maybe don't get more of your own people killed. Or mutilated. By Lute."

Charlie: "If you WERE to adopt this proactive shift in management style, Hell would be MUCH more comfortable negotiating with Heaven on the exact amount of damages and compensation owed to both sinners and winners for the emotional harm caused by your long term wrongful killing of countless potential citizens of Heaven, including their friends and loved ones!"

Sera: "Excuse me? Compensation-?"

Vaggie: "You fucked up. Heaven and Hell both hate you. We can give you some good PR, though, if you actually earn it."

Charlie: "Right now this is the only offer we can put on the table, all things considered, and especially when we're SO busy rebuilding and mourning our dead friends, so I really hope you take the time to consider it!!!"

Sera: "You cannot possibly be serious-"

Vaggie: "Try us, bitch."

Sera: "..."

Charlie: (turns to gf) "I love you."

Vaggie: (smiles) (lifts and smooches their entwined hands)

Sera: "........"

Emily: (applauds)

[xuterboo]

Good time everyone!

The cutting and analysis of images continues, and today my hands finally reached the Lost Paradise.

Let's meet our beauties!

Let's start with the broken king. Lost Paradise has quite a motley crew. Also, everything on the clothes is very scattered. Lucifer is wearing a strict black suit and a white striped shirt. An interesting observation: for Luci, both when he was still an angel and when he fell, The chest is open, emphasizing the scar. And he did not appear because of a fall from heaven. The scar was probably received before these events. (Fight for Seraphim's place?)

As shown in Liouifer's stories, his snake is alive, or rather, can come to life and move on its own.

I just want to throw in one thought: the biblical seraphim were created only to fly next to God and sing into his ears that he is so wonderful. This means that all Seraphim, including Luci, have a beautiful voice)

Well first of all, gooooospaby, how I love this dragon!!

And secondly, doesn’t it seem strange to anyone that the staff of Gamigin (the dragon) are different from Gamigin (the demon)? As you know, Gamigin (dragon) devoured the demon who slept with him, and apparently the dragon's pearl greatly changed the staff.

The gamigin himself is dressed in formal attire. But the casual look of directional sleeves makes the look looser. And also sneakers. Sneakers, damn it. Okay, if he likes it, then I won't mind. Blue color evokes pleasant and gentle sensations, but also helps reduce the desire to sleep. Nice contrast between Gamigin's activity and tenderness

Marbas... His clothes are more like ordinary clothes in a mental hospital, but the factory did not have white fabric, and they took some kind of black one. I still don’t quite understand why he would chain himself in this during a fight. This is inconvenient and even dangerous. Either I don't understand something, or I don't understand something. But nevertheless, he has a very interesting design.

No shoes. My pants are constantly falling down (my friend: Was it too weak to lower my pants any lower?) I have a long-sleeve shirt that reveals my shoulders almost completely. Acts as a straitjacket, but looks good in everyday life. (I hope it doesn't hurt for him to walk😔)

My sunshine Morax!☺️ I love him so much, I just can’t 🥹

He already has a more strict form of someone like a general. It can be assumed that he is more responsible for the military part of Lost Paradise .

He is probably in the same position as Glasialabolas (I hope I wrote it correctly), but as we have already noticed, PL is a more modest country than in Hades. Origin unknown. Most likely born in LP

He's covered in bandages. God, please give him a rest. Tie him down, but let him recover.

Next up is Buer. One of two demons, behind which there is some kind of creature. You can guess from his clothes that he is from Tartarus. But with feet stained with the gold of the Tartarus River, his origins are confirmed.

Dressed in a kimono of gold, red and black. In China these colors mean wealth (who would doubt it), joy and prosperity. (Buer makes me feel like he is a Chinese healer living high in the mountains. Healing, only those who have a pure soul, hee hee hee)

Also, according to official data from the Belphegor event, I am adding Batin to this collection, since he was born in the Lost Paradise.

He is a laid back lover of travel. Like most of the demons of Paradise Lost, he is dressed in black. Apparently in Nifelheim, Batin is also something of a general. In every country, one way or another there is a demon responsible for the troops, but in Gehenna this is not visible, since everyone has the same uniform.

I'm not entirely sure what culture Paradise Lost represents, as there's a lot going on there. I think this is the people who came together piece by piece from other countries. They brought something of their own to the new lands, combining knowledge with others, and this is how they turned out to be a unique nation. Friendly and quiet by nature. But as soon as you get to know them better, you will immediately see the warmth,which they emit. Although there is another facet that is in the shadows - their cruelty and indifference. It is shown when Adu or their loved ones.

The text turned out longer than I thought. OK...Thank you for reading! Write your interesting observations or thoughts about Paradise Lost!

[coneheads-deserved-a-noble-prize]

I like to think Lucifer's arms weren't always black.

I like to imagine when he fell from Heaven, he didn't go without a fight.

Plummeting towards hell, he caught a spear of angelic steel aimed at his heart. Naturally, the holy energy imbued in the metal cannot destroy him as it would a hellborn or sinner, yet it still reacts with the seraphim's growing devilish nature.

With a mighty crack, the spear seared the arms which held it. Blackening the flesh.

Maybe Lucifer can't hide the mark, Heavens way of warning others of his fallen nature, despite the rest of his visage.

Maybe he chooses to keep the scar, a reminder of what was done to him. A reminder that Heaven, despite its vast power, could not destroy him.

Or at least that's what I like to imagine.

[shapard]

Candle Night🕯️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Lucifer treats you after your recovery.

Smut, P in V, virgin, soft Lucifer, not proof read so mistakes ahead<3

You groaned in pain as you flexed your back. How long was it till you had a proper bath? 

Belphegor recommend you not to bath the next couple weeks when you returned from heaven after the fight. 

You can go over your body with a cloth of tissue, you just must be careful not to damage the plaster bandage. Even though Leonardo healed your broken body parts, some grew wrong and had to be broken again. Lucifer was by your side meanwhile the nurser broke your Carpal bones.

Lucifer brought you to his mansion to have a better eye at you. Lammy was always watching that you don’t have to carry anything with your healthy hand and when Lucifer wasn’t there the little lamp would carry your things with her cute little horns. Lucifer hates to leave your side, but you always tell him to help his daughter out in the hotel. 

So, he did. 

Your wish is his command. 

Yesterday you and Lucifer went to the Sloth ring to get rid of the plaster bandage. 

So, Lucifer planned to bath today and ease your aching muscles that begs for a massage. A soft knock Interrupted your trains of thoughts and Lucifer stepped inside. 

“Apple pie?” You hummed softly watching when Lucifer sat down beside you. 

The bed dipped under his weight, and you slid closer towards him. “You want to take a bath with me? You haven’t had ones in couple of months and I got a little surprise for you.” 

You chuckled at how he seems to shine bright in happiness as you agreed to take a bath with him. He didn’t waste any time and rushed with you through the halls to his huge bathroom. 

The bathtub was large and could easily fit ten sinners in it. The bathroom had beautiful Greek design shapes, making it look like the ancient Rome. 

The bathroom lights were turned off, but the room was lit with red candles. The smell of cinnamon Apple filled your nostril, reminding you of how good Lucifer smells. 

“Wow.” Your fingertips glides on the cold surface from the tub and Lucifer stood proudly naked in the room. How did he get out of clothes so fast?

Lucifer walked behind your and helped you to get undressed. Once you were standing naked with him you thought about the newer scars that adorns your body. 

The largest was the one on your thigh that Michael did to you, your worries only grew when Lucifer hasn’t moved or said anything. “You’re so beautiful dear.” Your cheek heated and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. 

Lucifer took your hand in his and you followed him in the warm water. You sunk into the water and you let out a moan of pleasure from the warmth. The warm water was relaxing and Lucifers hands were quick to massage your back. 

This is heaven. 

Lucifer was talking to you about his little father and daughter date he and Charlie had. But all you could focus was how good his fingers worked the knots out of your shoulder and back. 

You hummed soft as he kissed your neck and said a softly I love you. 

“You enjoy this.” You moaned in response, and he chuckled. He pecked your lips and travelled down to your stomach. His hand massaged your waist, and you couldn’t help but groan in pleasure. 

Lucifers forked tongue slithered down to your now wet folds. 

He looked into your half-lidded eyes waiting for your consent and you gave him a short yes. His tongue quickly entered, and it was incredible. You completely forgot how good he is with his tongue. 

No wonder why Lilith and Eve left Adam for such a man. 

Your whole body was heated, and the water was making you feel even more dizzier than you already were. Lucifer groaned between your fold sending vibration onto your clit. 

Lucifers clawed finger started to work on your clit to get more of that delicious juice of yours. 

The first time was already addictive but now he is addicted and wants nothing more to make you cum several times on his forked tongue. 

You almost screamed when he hit your g-spot and he smirked. “Found it.” His tongue worked faster hitting the spot every time in a divine way. 

You were a moaning mess, and you grabbed his golden hair. Lucifer moaned as you pulled on his hair and his dick twitched in arousal. His other hand went up to twirl your hardened nipple and you throw your head back moaning at the pain and pleasurable twirl. 

It was just a matter of time and stamina, but your whole body shook as you came near to the high. 

You thrusted your hips up and down on Lucifers face. It was so sinful, but you couldn’t help yourself. The way his tongue moved in your womanhood so perfectly and addictive. 

Maybe it was the bond that grew stronger between you two, or it was how he mastered the art of pleasuring a woman. You don’t know. All you know is that you want this man that was between your thighs. The man that brought the light into your depressing world. 

You moaned his name out loud and your cum started to drip down his chin down to the water that moves comfortable around the both of you. 

Lucifer didn’t stop, he sucked in every drop your pussy was treating him. His tail was swaying side to side in Lust and happiness. 

You closed your legs out of over stimulation, but Lucifer would rip them open again sucking you dry. 

He just can’t stop when you taste this good and the expressions you made was just adding more oil to his fire. Finally, after a while he stops, licking his black lips to taste you a bit more. 

His pupils were blowing wide and all he could think about was claiming your right here and now. Lucifer dips down and kissed you passionate. His tip was pressed on your cunt, but he didn’t slip in, not now. 

First, he wanted to devour your lips fully.

You could taste your own liquid on his tongue mixed with his saliva. The kiss was like a way of saying welcome home. A spark that grew inside you, filling your emotion with dopamine. 

You whined as he broke the kiss, you wanted that his lips stayed longer on yours. 

“Should I stop?” Lucifer asked careful as he drew a small heart with his clawed finger. You shook your head, but Lucifer wasn’t pleased with the non-verbal answer. “Use words Apple pie.” His eyes trailed down to the small heart Tattoo you got with Angel Dust and back up to you. 

“No Luci. I want you to continue, please.” He smiled and attacked you with another mind blow kiss. “This may hurt.” But you didn’t care. You want and need Lucifer now. 

He kissed your lips and pressed his dick into your drenched pussy. You groaned as you felt something this huge in you and he wasn’t even fully in. 

He stopped as he felt a soft tear slipping out of your eye and he pushed your head deeper into his. He waited for a sign that he can push deeper in. You nod after a couple of seconds, and he slipped all of his length into you in one swift thrust. 

You moaned at the pain and pleasure. You felt so full. “I’m sorry you just feel so good.” He whined and dipped into the crook of your neck, nibbing on it Softly. 

You’ll be his death one day. You just feel too good to be true.

You were a breathing mess as the pain started to fade into pure bliss. Your hand reconnected with his hair and he understood the assignment.

 His hips moved back and forth making the water sway with your movements. The spark of the soul bond was adding to the pleasure in your body. Every time he touched you in different places and you could just cum right onto the spot. 

Lucifer felt it too. Maybe even more than you. The way your pussy clenched around him is driving him insane. He tried to hold back as much as he can because it is your first time. But your pussy just takes him so good and he’s not sure if he’ll go soft on you the next time.

This was already hard enough.

The way he moved his hips into yours and how he twitched inside you, made you want more. 

“Faster please!” You didn’t have to ask twice. Lucifer moaned and moved his hips faster against you the water started to drench the area around you. You two didn’t cared all you could focus on was how good Lucifer felt inside you.

Heavy breathing and moans filled the bathroom. If the water hadn’t been there, the whole room would be filled with sinful skin against skin clapping. 

You felt your high coming closer and closer. Your moans were starting to get louder and louder and so were Lucifers. Lucifer thumb started to circle your clit, sweat pearled down your forehead. 

This was the best feeling ever and you understand why Angel enjoys this so much. 

You both reached your peak and Lucifer whined your name into your ear as his hips stuttered forward into yours. He painted your walls in white and your pussy sucked him dry. 

You hummed as your body felt completely full and relaxed. The next two hours you two were in each other arms cuddling the day away.

_____

Charlie walked down to the kitchen when she smelled the apple pancakes. Her dad used to make them for her, so it wasn’t a surprise to find Lucifer in the kitchen. 

His skin was glowing, and he was happier than ever. His energy was more than other days which was a lot, even for Charlie.

Angel Dust sat next to Charlie; a smirk adorned his features. “They definitely had sex.”

A/n: yummy

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete

[ibarkatpeoplewoofwoofbitch]

EVE AND LILITH THEORY

Okay so we don't know why lilith went missing for seven years. But what I do know is this ain't lilith

Lilith hair is slicked back in every backstory we see of her

In the photos, we see that'd show if she has her horns or slick back hair, which is covered by hats or completely cut off.

But I know for sure in this scene right here before what probably was before lilith left it looked like Eve

And here's my theorys.

NUMBER ONE:LILITH IS CONTROLLED BY EVE. (Far fetched and wrong words but you'll see what I mean)

it could be their the same penny on different sides like in brittle bones Nicky number two when the devil and God are the same people

Like the lyrics "I'm mufasa and I am scar" it's like yin and yang

In goodness, theirs evil and in evil theirs goodness.

THEORY NUMBER 2:EVE AND LILITH MADE A DEAL.

Lilith was a famous woman in hell, not just because of being queen but also because of her singing. (Can't wait to see who is casted for her I hope it's someone who can hit high notes). Maybe lilith wanted to "get away" from everything but still wanted to be in touch and see what's going on hence all the eyes everywhere in hell.

And maybe Eve wanted a family. Cause adam does not seem like someone you'd wanna spend your whole (after)life with. Eve probably wanted someone who'd love her and by lucifer loving lilith and forgets things like where charlie was even though he's not a bad guy and says vaggie as maggie. Lucifer probably dissociated so much he forgot lilith looked different but still loved lilith who was infact Eve.

THEORY NUMBER 3:EVE IS DEAD

I don't think she made it into heaven, unlike Adam. Cause by what we've seen, no one knows why people go to heaven, not even a seraphim (the highest rank of angel right below the power god has but the second highest rank.)

THEORY NUMBER 4:THEY BOTH RAN AWAY

Powerful women becoming wives arc 🤷‍♂️

THEORY NUMBER 5:EVE HAS ALASTORS SOUL.

Look I don't know much but I do know eve does that whole pretty little liars smile and shushing the mouth thing. Who better to own alastors soul then someone who smiles no matter what?

THEORY NUMBER 6:ALASTOR KILLED EVE

Look, Eve was probably the first human to fall besides Well lilith who fell with lucifer. Eve could've been one of the higher overlords that alastor broadcasted killing.

THEORY NUMBER 7: LUTE IS EVE

Yknow I thought this one was a far stretched one. Theirs 3 clues. Lutes personality was like someone who could put up with Adam. And I know Adam made the exorcist. But vaggie didn't like Adam and before she fell she didn't like killing a demon.

Lute has the same personality as Adam but is way more serious then Adam is so Adam doesn't blow anything but she doesn't get mad when he gets close to doing it and when he did she stayed by his side agreeing with him.

Lute was personally distraught by Adam's death. And of course, she isn't like this with no one else. Why didn't the exorcist get distraught that they were obviously around him?

[snowywolf1005]

@5tef1 :Hey, how about a seraphine reader s-yn ??? How is the relationship with the others' seraphine?please ❤️

Good question!

SERAPHIM X SERAPHIM READER

S-HAWK

Good teamwork.

Talk little.

Fight little.

Follow orders.

Protect him.

S-SNAKE

Like best friend.

Judge someone.

Have fun together.

Follow orders.

Protect her.

S-SHARK

You take care of him.

Good teamwork.

A friend.

Protect him.

Talk little.

Sometimes, you have this feeling that you met him before, but you don't quite remember how.

All you remember is of him, but big and blue skin, and he holding someone. A boy has a scar on his right cheeks and wearing a strawhat, he was screaming, yelling.

The strawhat that you remember, a boy with red hair and you think he must be your lover.

S-BEAR

Protect him.

Never talk much.

Like a partner.

Teamwork.

Sometimes, you guys talk a little bit.

Now let talk about you.

You're strong.

Have emotion.

When you look at Something, it reminds you of Something from your memory you had but don't quite remember.

Zone out little.

Can summons nightmare creatures.

Transform nightmare creatures.

Follow orders.

You have these memories.

Work for the marine, but you have a feeling that you hate the marine for no reason.

The first one is... where you saw small young boys running and laughing. One of them has blonde hair and a top hat. And the other boy has freckles, black hair.

The last one is a boy with black hair, who has a scar on his right cheeks and wears a strawhat.

The second is you holding hands with a red-haired man, and she has a scratch on his right eye. And appears to be your lover?

The third one is you talking with a woman with green hair, and you have a sister?

The last one is where you hugged the same boys from your memories, but they are older and injured. They were crying something, and you said something to them. "Thank you... for expecting me as your mother. I love you both."

Mother? Uh... that strange memories.

Then you saw S-hawk and s-bear attack these five men, and you saw the same boy with scar on his right cheeks, wearing a strawhat.

And you started to feel angry, so you saw S-hawk started attacking, but you bunch him so hard it sent him flying.

The men were surprised.

"What!?" Green hair men was shocked.

"The seraphim is protecting us!?" Said the long nose

"She shouldn't attack the other seraphim! We didn't program her like that!" Said the helmet guy.

"Why is she protecting us!? Said the long black hair guy.

"Ahh... what!?"

You turn to see the strawhat guy. His eye was wide shocked. You don't understand why he is in surprise. You thought he remember you.

But you remember his name.

"Luffy?"

Luffy heart is bounded faster. He was panicking, "luffy! What wrong!?" Said the moss head. Luffy grabbed his chest, hard.

"Mom?"

[nunalastor]

I have been struck by an idea for Angel Alastor AU

*Alastor's POV*

A couple months into his stay in Hell Alastor finds and figures out how deals work, as well as their roll they play in maintaining this realm. He is excited to try it out and finds out he is really good at it. BUT!! After awhile the people he takes under his care collapse into shows of light. He doesn't get it. What is he doing wrong! the only 2 thralls not leaving are Nifty and husker.

Let's see he takes in children and women who did what they had to do to survive. Check! Give them free housing in the forest he grew with his magic. Check!! Employ the women as either teachers/caretakers for the kids or writers for his radio shows. CHECK!!! Basically build and maintain a self sufficient community that doesn't have to worry about the stress of hell while he get to have his fun. Check fucking CHECK!!!!

No matter how many years pass in hell it keeps happening. It's confusing but that's ok, he only did it because all the most respected Overlords of hell run and maintain communities. His new bestie Rosie, Carmillia, Missi Zilla, Zestial and even that pathetic picture Box that got a lucky hit to his forehead with an angelic dagger ( thankfully Alastor bashed vox's face in before he could back up the memory) has one. Well the Princess is opening a hotel i hopes of rehabilitating sinners should be fun. He just hopes that the letters he wrote for Guy, Emily and his Mom and that they forgive him for his selfish acts.

*Heaven's/Micheal's POV*

It has been years since the one so loved by Heaven went missing because of Adam's carelessness when something miraculous starts happening. The souls of women and children damned to Hell start appearing before the high Seraphim Sera. Despite all the struggles the souls went through and endured, they had one thing in common.

Alastor

When Micheal is filled in on what's happening he doesn't rushes to the observation orb within Heavens Court house. With the help of the very souls Alastor redeemed he lays eyes upon his beloved for the first time in years. The sight is both comforting and devastating as Micheal watches Alastor rub at a nasty scar along his temple.

Of course. Everything makes sense now. His beloved wouldn't abandon everyone he loves on a whim. He didn't know it was possible for the love he has held for his deer to grow deeper because even when trapped in hell under the delusion that they're a demon Al still went out of his way to help others. After many apology's to Guy, Emily and Al's Mom for the deceit Sera decides the best course of action going forward is to call a meeting with Lucifer.....OH, Lucifer sent his daughter in his place. WAIT! She's starting up a redemption project that's perfect we can give her support through the search party now led by a talented exorcist by the name of Vagatha And his beloved's best friend Guy who's a detective turned therapist.

Charlie: "wait uncle, you know redemption is possible?"

Micheal: "Well yes, but not how because my boyfriend the saint who figured out how to do so, got trapped in Hell due to a tragic mistake some years ago suffering a horrible head wound. We were finally able to find him but we don't know how much he truly remembers."

*Lilith POV*

Lilith who has spent the last couple of years getting faded off champagne on a beach: "I feel like i'm forgetting something important" -the unopened letters Alastor asked her to deliver sitting at the bottom of her luggage- "If i can't remember, probably not a big deal."

-sleep deprived Anon-

P.S. the thought of Alastor finally finding joy in his after life only to have it be ripped out from under him because he is unintentionally being really helpful is funny and the growing unhinged perspective of Micheal as he searches for his beloved, is absolutely delightful for me

P.S.S. I had to write this down twice so it's a lot longer than it was originally so here's this wall of text-sorry not sorry

👀