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ashesbreadandbutter · 1 month

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Douma + Claude x Fem! Reader Snippet || One's True Nature

So I spun a wheel for a cross fic type of thing. Did it a couple times so if you want to read the others follow and follow my progress.

Anyway, the two characters are obviously Claude Faustus (Black Butler) and Lord Douma (Demon Slayer). I'm having fun with this already.

Think I'll add cross fics to my commission list.

Douma + Claude x Reader

What it'll include: Spanking, biting, marking, breeding, dom and sub, choking and maybe a few others.

Goal : 10k words

It's been many long years.

Many years since he was first beaten, destroyed by an archenemies who he had spent so much time on for such a silly reason. Said reason being some brat's soul because who was he without as the creature that he is.

Claude lurks in the shadows. His form is different now from his previous life though not vastly so. He's of a toned build, with smooth, pearly white skin except for his hands and feet which were made up of claws. His body isn't the only thing that has changed but so has his location.

These weren't the streets of London, lanterns and art lingered in every which was like a colorful dream as humans below seemed to have a celebration of sorts; drinking alcohol, laughing, and whatever else.

To be fair, Claude has a hate for it. The loud noises, the colors, but ever since he's come back he's been struggling with a deep hunger, one that he hadn't been forced to deal with previously when he was in Europe, one that seems to lure him into more primal needs and sensations.

It's annoying, the way that he's never been allowed to show this side of himself, to express his hunger like this… when he had been practically trapped in his last deal. He remembers the days, serving that young brat day in and day out and even with how hungry he was he was forced to stay in control, to tame his needs, just for him to lose control in the end anyway.

Claude could admit that he didn't regret it, crushing that boy's… Alois’s, head in his strong hands until it seemed to pop like a grape and spill blood all over him.

Even with how calm Claude presented in many cases back then of course he still had his emotions and when it came to Alois all he could do was feel annoyance, dread, anger… and Claude had put up with it until he simply couldn't. He could also admit that he paid the price, going against his arch enemy… Sebastian, even going out of his way to try and steal the other's demon's prey. His death… as humbling as it was to say, was one that was bound to happen and maybe Claude had done all of that just to end the suffering. As demons as he and others could do was live as they are and with Alois Claude had been needy, starved. What else was he to do but to go after what he could which has been that stupid, idiotic boy… though, here… it seemed different.

Very different.

Claude could smell the scents in the air, he's not as strong as he used to be but he seems now that he has the potential to do so now and such much more.

He was… free. And freedom has never tasted better.

There's so much food around but as the creature he is, the last thing he wants is a corn dog or poe of some sort… he wants blood, meat… and a lot of it.

One scent in particular seems to jump out at him suddenly and Claude doesn't hesitate to snap his gaze over in the same direction as if to follow such a smell. It's fruity, sweet,... Tempting and Claude feels a rush of heat run through him when he locates the owner.

She's beautiful, as soft and sweet as she looks and dressed in sine silks. Claude hadn't cared much about the history of this place previously, the scenery, the festivals, the fashion trends but the second his eyes landed on her they stuck. She seems to order herself a snack and as Claude stands from his squat and decides to silently get closer Claude can't help but admire her. It's her sweet face, his soft skin, her feminine figure and if Claude was human his heart would be rushing.

He is a demon again yes but never had he felt like this and if he had it must've been a feeling that had become long forgotten to him. Never once had he felt quite as… warm and hot like this over some random human woman and he isn't exactly sure what it is that makes him feel so drawn to her but it has him feeling like he was having a hard time keeping control of himself.

It's interesting how difficult this new life of his was, how different it was from his old one. Never once had he felt a craving like this, with Alois, or even Ciel… it's like he quite literally wants to jump down there and tackle her to the ground, jump on her as if he was some sort of leopard, an animal, a beast and she… some sort of deer, prey. Outside of his rebirth he doesn't know anything about this new life he's been giving but what he does know is that suddenly he feels… hot. He wants this woman and while he still isn't sure what for he's confident in his choice.

He needed to get closer, if not to know this woman than to touch her… caress her skin with both his hands and his lips and maybe he'd proceed by… keeping her, like some cute little pet at his side. Maybe if she agreed to stay by him and at his side he wouldn't kill her immediately.

She walks along the streets and he follows like a lingering shadow as he tries to think about the best way to go about this. As she now sits at a bench by herself he settles on the building just behind her, looking down on her with bright eyes. He's still thinking and it's only when his eyes snap aside and land on an approaching figure that Claude feels like he has in fact wasted to much time.

Whoever this guest was he was tall, broad and Claude could admit that the man's physical appearance was rather… impressive, distracting even. He wears a kimono just as everyone else has and even with such clean and gentle looking garbs Claude can practically smell how strong this male is. It's intimidating and Claude had come to an understanding that in this life demons in fact had ranks. Of course they always had but this was so different, so new and even though another other demon would have probably scurried away, Claude lingered even with the rush of tingles he feels race up his spine.

He proceeds by watching the two, the only prominent features he's kept from his last life was his bright golden eyes which now watched the two figures. The male greets her, bowing his head to the woman before reaching out to take her hand and with a little giggle she gives it to him after her flashes a charming smile. Claude suddenly feels a bit more… annoyed, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scene because though he knows nothing about either one of these two and probably couldn't care less to do so but something about this guest… this man was reminding him of…

Sebastian.

It's only then that her laughs rings through the air and Claude clears his mind to focus again only to look down and freeze when bright eyes are looking back up to him.

A second passes where they stare at each other for a moment and then something seems to burst within Claude's chest. He holds the other demons gaze and the rush of emotion he feels makes him feel both ignited and frantic, as if that the moment their eyes connected with each other had been a deal of some sort all on its own.

Claude reels back before he can help himself, jerking back and blinking owlishly. There's a rushing in his chest that makes him reach a shaky hand up and clutch his heart.

Now. What the fuck was that?

Claude wasn't sure at all but after a moment of silence he finds himself wanting… more.

It's like something had woke up in him, jerking awake in fury and Claude was s man who would sit here and lie and say that a man couldn't possibly win his heart but the way his was racing in his chest suddenly made him feel many, many things.

“Do you…happen to come here often?” A smooth and charming voice suddenly rings out over the sea of others and something tells Claude he shouldn't and yet… he decides to peak back over the length and as he thought, the man was now speaking. He looks at the woman with a fond smile, reaching out a hand to her and she giggles softly as she does so, humming as he seems to raise her hand to his lips and lightly brush his soft lips over her knuckles. “I'll admit that I haven't seen you around here much.” He continues and she hums.

“What's your name pretty? I must know it so I never forget.” He continues as she smiles.

“Y/n. You can just call me y/n.” She answers him and her voice is so soft, so smooth and Claude finds himself leaning in to hear more of it as if he couldn't get enough. The man makes a noise of acknowledgement while Claude personally saves such into in his head and as the man moves to sit beside her, his hip pressing against her own, he finally responds with his own name.

“You may call me Douma-Sama. Everyone calls me it.” Douma chuckles but something about it sends a shiver running up Claude's spine when he hears it as if the man's name was a curse all on its own. Not only that but… their eyes connected again, his and Douma 's as the other demon looks from the wan to him from the corner of his eyes.

Douma-Sama.

It was an interesting name, Claude could give him that but something about the way the man had said it, practically purring it out but each syllable and everything was enough to make Claude's cheeks feel…warm.

Claude reaches a hand up to inspect his face and soon comes to the realization that he was lightly blushing. His cheeks a light pink and he's spooked into silence, even when he and Sebastian battled as much as they did in his previous life never had Claude allowed himself to blush this easily with the man even when that's what Sebastian clearly wanted out of him. He had always waited until he could get alone where he could be stuck with his thoughts all of his own for as long as needed, and maybe he had many, many fantasies and ones he tended to act up on and wasn't exactly sure what it was but just as Sebastian had, this demon… Douma-Sama, had managed to piqued Claude's interest.

TBC~

- A

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liebe-herrgott · 10 months

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Every word SnowFlame has ever said in The New Guardians and Catwoman.

The New Guardians #2

First freak who comes any closer is a dead freak. Jeezus, you people are strange! Last chance-- Turn around and take your freak show back on the road! Challenge accepted! I am SnowFlame! Every cell of my being burns with white-hot ecstasy. Cocaine is my god and I am the human instrument of its will! A blow like that would have sent any ordinary man reeling! But I am no ordinary man! I can see that-- and I intend to savor our combat to the fullest! You see before you a man on fire! A man who craves any excuse to burn brighter! Any excuse! I feel no pain, Ram, although I relish your feeble attempts to inflict it! How long do you think your silicon chips can stand up to my psycho-kinetic flames? Don't you understand yet? I burn with thought-- accelerated thought generated by my fantastically heightened mental senses! The more you fight back -- the more you fight back -- the more you fan the fires of my high -- and the stronger I become! But to my regret, I have a job to do. Places to go. People to see. As you can see, people… I never patrol… these jungles… alone. Your visit to Nueva Grenada has just been… Terminated! OPEN FIRE! Bury them-- before they start to stink! With all their personal effects intact! In my jungle, we respect the dead! OPEN FIRE! … Do you know how many bags we have to sell to the dealers, Manuel, to buy a Rolls Royce? Ten, Manuel! A paltry ten bags! MOTHER OF GOD! Where are the lookouts? Give up? Give up the ultimate exhilaration-- the divine rapture-- the euphoria of electricity that now surges through every molecule of my body? Give up? I would sooner choke on the soil from your boots, Guardians! AHHHHH! May this fire burn everlasting! Now I am a true god--! Strike them down, my children! They seek to steal your life’s blood-- they seek to destroy your God! But you will not let them-- for within all of you burns the same rage-- within all of you burns the same fire--! You don’t hide your anger very well, warrior! I thought your kind was supposed to be inscrutable! Feel the heat, silicon man? When I am finished -- there will be little left of you but a pile of melted circuits! (glugg x2) Not just yet! Fool warrior--! My fire cannot be extinguished!

Catwoman #23

As I live and breathe-- it’s the cat herself, Selina Kyle. Your personal chauffeur is here, baby. The one, the only… SNOWFLAME. It’s been a while. What’s your damage, Selina? Not happy to see me? Got everything I need, baby: a bitchin’ ride, the threads, the tunes… And an unlimited supply of powder. Life couldn’t be better. Thanks! Wrote it myself. The key to faking your own death-- explosions. If the blast takes out enough people, no one is gonna sift through the rubble to identify body parts. I give these rats everything they need-- food, clean water, fair wages. This place was totally harsh before I showed up! And they repay me by lying. My men keep disappearing, and the workers are blaming it on some half-baked legend. They’re trying to scare us off. The kids are even dressing like cats at night, as if that’s gonna freak us out. Kisin is just another boogeyman. Everything in life can be solved with a bullet or a bump. I don't care who or what is messing with my business-- I’ll find them. Speaking of bumps, wanna get the party started before the auction? You’re not here to party, and you're not here for me… Why are you here baby? I know you, Selina, and I’ve seen that look before. You’re on the hunt… But it’s not for something at my auction. Always. But I’m not wrong. This is Isla Nevada, baby. Everyone who comes here is either running away or hoping to find something. I think you're searching. No idea. I’ve never quit long enough to find out either way. Home sweet home. Mi casa es su casa, baby. The auction is tomorrow, but tonight is all about chillin’ at the gala. And remember… You’re on my island now. You’re among friends, you can let loose. Stop pretending to be someone you’re not. Maybe that’s your problem: you’ve been a housecat for too long… You’ve forgotten what it’s like to take off your collar and let your claws out. Ladies and gentlemen: welcome to the first annual, invite only, totally exclusive SnowFlame auction! Tomorrow night we’ll have some gnarly items up for grabs… Like the talisman of Arok the Magnificent! Even if you don’t want to claim the throne of Gorilla City for yourself, this will look so rad on your coffee table. We have a vial of water from the Lazarus Pit, the famous codpiece cannon, a decoy White Lantern ring.. And the item you’ve all been waiting for… The List. Compiled by the world’s greatest crime-fighters, this list has every shred of intel they’ve collected on… Well, people like you. The bid starts tomorrow at-- Not now. Um, sorry guys, I gotta step out. Interrupt me at my own party. This better be legit.

Catwoman #24

You don’t look happy, baby-- Why you trippin’? I thought you were all about the ice? So what? Armand, what the in the blue hell happened to my lights?! Yes, I can see that-- I need to know why the power went out! Get on your radio and find out where Hughes and Campbell are-- they’re supposed to be guarding the generator! Sanchez, behind you! Don’t bounce yet, guys! Come back! We have some gnarly items up for grabs! Come on, the codpiece cannon is still available! Ross, seal the gates-- and find out who’s guarding my office! Dammit, Selina. Send a crew up there now! I’ll try to talk some sense into Catwoman. What is she doing to me?! Storming my compound, killing my men?! What do you mean she escaped?! She’s a woman with a whip and a catsuit-- you have machine guns! Damn it, she has my list-- I know it! We’re running on backup power, and soon all my emergency lighting and my laser grid will go down. Find out where that panther disappeared to and put a bullet through it-- I’ll handle Catwoman! A woman with a whip is kicking an entire security team’s ass… Disarming her can’t be that hard! You come into my house, destroy my business… You’ve crossed the line, Selina. You’re forcing my hand. This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me. You might wanna stand back a little, because… You’re about to feel the heat of SNOWFLAME! I hope this isn’t all you’ve got, because these cheesy old tricks aren’t going to cut it. You’re looking a little sluggish, baby. I think you’ve lost a step. Here, let me get closer and give you a little pick-me-up. Euphoric? I tend to have that effect on the ladies. This is adorable. You’re gonna sniff that nasty green dust the jungle rats cooked up to come down off your high? Nice try with the antidote. Killing my buzz doesn’t drain my power. I can still dish it out, and I can still take a-- My nose! I was taking it easy on you, but now I’m going to crush your- GHAAAAH! How did… What was that spear coated with?! D-don’t kill me, Selina! This isn’t you! Wait… come back, baby! I can change! Give me another chance! Don’t leave me here with-- 1269 words, 6900 characters.

#i fuckign love snowflame so much im so fucking normal about him #snowflame #every word #comic books #i wrote down every fucking word please help me

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sigridhawke · 9 months

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for the ask meme! Nikolai- 🖤 💯🍎 / The princess - 💙 💘🤔 / Odin -👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 💜🐶 / Moonwhisper 🩹🚫🐷 / and 3 random asks for any crimson ocs of ur choice! : 🌈 ❤️🎮

I hope you're all ready for me to talk a bunch about Crimson cause I got THREE of these asks for my beloved story!!! Bless this Details About OCs Ask.

Thankyou for the asks!! This did get long so will chuck some under the read more!

Nikolai:

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone’s heart and/or broken someone’s trust?

Absolutely. Nikolai starts the journey as a fight first, ask questions later cause if you’ve come onto their mountain it's not going to be with good intentions lol. Nikolai does give the princess her draconic title during an argument which they regret. A title to dragons is a name given with intention that is remembered by the lifeblood of the world and it carries like a whisper on the wind to anyone else who comes near them.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Oh gosh this is a hard one. Torn between spoilers and yknow what yolo!

- Nikolai has no arms under their gaunlets. It just stops at the elbow and the gaunlets are solid ice grasping at their skin in humanoid form. As wyverns are a branch of dragons, they still have the remnants of arm bones on their skeleton, its just not shown in their true forms. Being knocked down to a humanoid form is a very different story.

- Out of the nine main/known languages of the world, Nikolai only knows common tongue (humans), draconic (dragonfolk), and a little bit of wild tongue which was self taught (spoken by the creatures ‘monsters’ of the world)

- Technically speaking, Nikolai is a self taught necromancer. (nobody liked that popup appears from the world lol)

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

Nikolai was born on the Frigid Mountain, alone, their egg wrapped by the frozen bodies of their parents' nagas (in full snake form). One parent is just straight up missing, the other Nikolai would later find out is a frozen corpse upon the mountain. Their relationship with home is arguably not the best one, but after leaving once to try and find more of their kind, they were met with pushback (from being a necromancer) so the mountain had been their home ever since, leaving only to hunt for food. They enjoy the solitude/company of their two nagas if only because they don’t really know anything else, which is why they struggle a lot when they do end up leaving to help the princess.

Princess Natasha:

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

Fire magic, ability to control dreams and glamour her dragon parts. High level of magical ability and also knowledge thanks to Morgan and genetically through Gwendolyn

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

Daedalus (name of the world) and her kingdom. Her friends and family, values them all equally

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc’s quirks/mannerisms?

Often fiddling with something - hem of her skirt or something with texture. Helps her think. Puts her hands on her chest, as that is where her fire magic comes from, so there is a comforting warmth there.

Odin:

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc’s immediate family? how many people are in your oc’s extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?

Immediate family, not much. Odin would consider Shaurya and Selvans as his ‘siblings’ as the trio have been around since the beginning of the world but he doesn’t have any blood relatives unless you consider the ‘creators’ as parental figures but they more just created life and set it down in the world and watched it walk. Thane would be his closest ‘family’ so to speak given they’re partners but that’s really the extent of it. Given Thane’s caught in what appears to be an eternal timeloop where he loses his memories every thirty years, expanding family has never been on the table (although Thane has thought about it a lot).

💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc’s ancestry/genetic background?

Dragons/Dragonfolk are/were split into a few different categories, Leather winged, Feather winged, ‘Fae’ winged, Finned (sea dragons), Wyverns, and the Wingless (original forms pretty much non existent as they evolved into nagas, something Odin himself helped direct). Odin is of Feathered and Fae heritage although he primarily displays Feathered.

🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets?

Technically speaking Odin and Thane ‘share’ Muse, a fae-cat creature that belongs/was summoned by Thane before the mental timeloop. Muse is very attached to Thane and remains in the world basically like a pet looking after Thane and keeping Odin company. They had a rocky start to their relationship given Odin impaled the fae with his tail during their battle, but Thane did cut off Odin’s tail and one set of his wings so Muse considers them even.

3 for a random OC

I’m going to pick Aluber for this because I love him so very deerly (HAH cause he’s a faun) and wanna share him with you. Left to right: Aluber, Percival, Fia

🌈 RAINBOW — what is your oc’s sexual orientation/gender identity? what pronouns do they use?

Aluber is genderfluid but typically goes by he/him! He is a very loud and proud bisexual and polyamorous with his two beloved partners Fia and Percival. Out of the three is his the one down for one night stands when they come to new towns but his main priorities are his long commitment partners~

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc’s positive traits?

- Aluber has chronic pain and fairly frequent muscle spasms which make him twitch sporadically, he incorporates the latter into his role as the circus jester and it boosted his self confidence tremendously. Also the younger individuals love when he twitches and bells are attached to his horns cause they jingle.

- His found family/circus family mean everything to him and - while he'd argue Percival is the glue that keeps them together - it's definitely attributed to the care Aluber gives to each and every one of them.

- Despite a rocky start to life being outcast by his own kind, Aluber strives to find the good in everything and everyone while understanding his limits and confiding in those he trusts when he can’t keep a smile on his face.

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc’s favorite hobbies?

- Dancing!! Any chance he gets to dance he absolutely will. 10/10 one of his favourite pastimes. Especially if its around the campfire in the middle of nowhere with music because the circus crew just wanted to celebrate/have a good time.

- Dressing up in loud flashy clothing and having his makeup done by Fia. He love getting to be her canvas and getting to look pretty/beautiful/handsome/sexy/everything

- Stargazing!!

Edit:

HECK I FORGOT MOONWHISPER OMG

SHOVES HIM HERE LOL

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

Mental, no he’s just a bit of an asshole but with good reason, but still an asshole lol. He’ll care about the world more than he’ll ever care about an individual creature on it.

Physical, absolutely. For majority of the story he he recovering from having all three sets of his wings ripped off and being dragged into a mountain. A mountain that he lugs around with him because the bonds were strong, but not strong enough to contain him completely.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

Moonwhisper is an entity that requires nothing to live other than the lifeblood of the world itself. Things like smoking he considers beneath him, and drinking (usually only tea) is more of a visual statement than an actual necessity.

🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc’s favorite animal?

He’s not supposed to have favourites, but he loves fauns. They’re his favourite creation of the world and he often shapes his appearance around them.

#tags asks and replies #original story crimson #ASK GAME MY BELOVED #my art

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sakuraswordly · 1 year

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Explanation 3(Analysis): Hana (Wolf Children)

Sonic: Hana... she kinda reminds me of Elise. Elise is very kind-hearted, sweet, loving, and genuinely cares about her country and its citizens. But the difference was the loss of her parents left Elise with much grief and sorrow, but she always tried to stay strong due to her father's words. When Iblis was later sealed inside her, Elise forced herself to never cry, as her tears would free Iblis from within her. This trapped her in a perpetual state of fake optimism where she would try to make light of her fate, but in reality, she always carried sadness that she could never let go of, leaving her trapped in her own feelings.

Punch: You still worry that Hana will trap herself in a perpetual state of fake optimism where she would try to make light of her fate, but in reality, she always carried sadness that she could never let go of, leaving her trapped in her feelings. Am I right?

Sonic: Yeah. Even I know she's not.

Punch: As for me, she reminds me of my mother.

Sonic: Your mother?

Punch: Even though she's not really my mother but she will always be my best mother. She is a very optimistic and upbeat young woman who has gone through her fair share of hardships. She is shown to be incredibly brave and has strong determination. She accepted me when some humans would be freaked out and ran. She is shown to be very persevering and selfless, always putting her children's rights before hers. She rarely raises her voice towards her kids unlike people in Asia She loves her children and does what she can to help provide for them.

Sonic: ”Her children”.....She also cared about her country and her citizens too.

Punch: My mother never traps herself in sadness. She said to me with a smile, she was already happy because she had me.

Jaq: Cinderelly too. Yet, through it all, Cinderelly remained ever gentle and kind, for with each dawn she found new hope that someday, her dreams of happiness would come true.

Sonic: I did meet a mother like Vanilla. But I never know about other mothers like Hana.

Punch: Believe me, a mother like Hana was hard to find in this world. A mother who can keep her smile and never hide her sadness and pain no matter how the world did to her suffering.

Jaq: Wow....Hana really a great mother indeed.

Punch: Cinderella was kinda different. She's happy but didn't smile when sad. She's really sad but...hard to explain...I never met her before, but Jaq, she was really kind and strong, right?

Jaq: Yeah! She's the princess also witty and sarcastic. She is also unafraid to stand up for herself when she feels she's in the right - or at least attempt to do so, especially seen when she stands up for herself as being able to go to the ball!

Sonic: I never had a real mother before...but I did have one. I just hope they still arrive. If it was not because of me...

Punch: Sonic?

Sonic: You really did have the best mother, Punch. Don't forget the memories that we live of love mother before it's too late to remember or regret. I am one that already too late. You know. This is the first topic that makes me jealous Punch even though I had everything.

Punch: If you are jealous of me, why are you so proud smiling? You're weird.

Source Character:(She did appear first introduced in this link)

Source: sliceofasianlife/wolf-children-short-review/

“I was given this name in the hope that I’d grow up to be someone whose smile never went out. He told me to keep smiling through tough or painful times, even if I had to force myself to do it, because I’d probably be able to get through them if I did.” – Hana

Hana is our main protagonist in the Wolf Children story. After falling in love with a wolf man from her college class, she has two wolf children named Ame and Yuki. When tragedy strikes and her significant other is killed when finding food for his children, Hana has to raise the children all by herself.

As a mother, Hana can be seen as really patient and tolerable of her children’s mishaps (mainly Yuki’s) and deals with a lot of stress raising the human-wolves. She is forced to move away from the city to the countryside and with the help of others who live nearby, grows food for her family. Hana is a strong willed mother and always has a smile on her face, no matter what. Although she isn’t the perfect parent, Hana turns her daughter into a wonderful young adult and allows Ame to follow his path to becoming a part of the mountains as a strong wolf.

In Tsofph Season 8(Story of Daily Life)

Source Picture: Manga epilogue of the Wolf children(おおかみこどもの雨) manga.

Hana meets a student who is a werewolf. They fall in love & Hana gives birth to two children named Ame (Rain) & Yuki (Snow). But one day the wolf man died. Hana is insanely devoted to her children and will do anything to keep them safe. Without the wolf man, Hana is left to raise her two children alone, but she never complains and she never shows any resentment towards her kids. Even though she has no idea how to raise half-wolf children, she tries her best to support them. Ame left home to live in the forest as a wolf at the ripe old age of ten. Yuki leaves her house to move into a high school dormitory. Hana remains at the same house and every now and then. One day Hana meets Velvet on her way. She didn't know that Velvet came from another dimension. Hana introduces Velvet's family to stay with her and she teaches her about the culture of this country and human culture. Hana never felt alone or sad. She was happy and at peace. After Sonic met Punch, he takes Punch's friend to introduce the place where he lives and that's the first time Punch meet Hana. From Punch's view, Hana is very much like her mother which makes it even strange that Hana is never afraid or abandoned non-humans. "Even if non-human, it's not that it shouldn't be accepted. I see that every living thing should have value." said by Hana. Be it an animal or a beast like a wolf. She also saw that it had a soul and was not something that should be divided or separated. And that's the reason she never abandon the wolf man and gladded to fall in love and lived with him even knew the truth. Hana tells her story of life and never forgets her children and how's amazing they are. Hana is a person who is content with what she already has, living life to the fullest in which she can be happy. She is not like other human beings who are sad because of pain. She is happy even though she has been through a lot but she is still happy and still living life to the fullest that was born. If her children are happy, she is happy enough. She doesn't need someone to be by her side. Just seeing the people around her happy, nature happy, or her children live happily, chose the way they are happy with the life they choose to walk.(Like Ame and Yuki) She is happy enough. She isn't a person who needs compensation or what she wants. She's already happy from the beginning without hurt and sadness, even if she loses something important in her life that causes pain. Really, it's not just the mother who has a habit like this. In fact, other people in this world are at peace and satisfied with what they actually have. This world is quite scary, there is quite a lot of pain, but they can find happiness for themselves and live life to be happy. The word "enough to have enough to eat" is also difficult to explain. In Tsofph Season 8, Hana will meet both Ame and Yuki again, and she will go adventure with Sonic and Punch. She and Deroea will help each other and unite the world together(again) with their friends Ant and Dec.

Source Picture: Wolf children(おおかみこどもの雨) manga.

#sakuraswordly #analyze the characters #character analysis #wolf children #wolf children ame and yuki #wolf children Hana #Tsofph Season 8(Story of Daily Life)#sonic art

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loupy-mongoose · 5 months

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Mr. Fuji opened a map and pointed to the island in the southwest corner of the region.

Cinnabar Island...

An interesting choice...

Randy tilted his head, concern lighting his eyes. Why's that?

For starters, it was ravaged by a volcano several years ago, so no-one lives there anymore. Meaning, minimal interference from humans.

Lav nodded. That's why he said he wanted to try there.

Fuji gave her an acknowledging glance before turning back to Randy. But even before the volcano erupted...

That's where he was created.

Lavender's eyes widened. He didn't say that...

Is there... any significance to that? Could he be planning an ambush?

It's... hard to say. Frankly, I'm a touch worried that he's part of some underground Team Rocket group... But I haven't heard anything from or about them in years. So it seems unlikely.

Akoya flicked her tail in a half-joking manner. I wonder if he's feeling nostalgic.

I wouldn't mind seeing where he was born.

Either way, if it does happen to be some kind of ambush, the mansion has plenty of gaps and open air for you all to escape if need be.

You're not helping to alleviate my fear, Mr. Fuji.

Lav's face grew determined. He wouldn't! He promised no harm would come to any of us!

Akoya gave her daughter a regretful look. Words aren't always enough, Lav.

Lavender...

Randy leaned down and gripped her shoulders, so they could meet eye-to-eye. His face and tone were dead serious.

I need you to realize... we could be walking into a trap.

Lav opened her mouth to protest, but Randy went on.

I know you don't want that to be true, and for all we know it's not. But it's. A. Possibility.

Lavender kept her eyes locked to his, taking in his words.

He was right.

She didn't want to believe it.

But...

He was right.

It was a possibility.

I understand, Dad.

I'll be ready to accept that... If it's true...

I don't want it to be. Randy pulled his daughter into a hug. I want to meet him and find out he's every bit as fun and sweet as you've made him out to be.

And I don't want you to be afraid.

But I want us to be safe.

I'm going in with an open mind...

I need you to as well.

Lavender nodded solemnly.

~~~~~~

Over the next few days, the Linden crew prepared.

Lavender and Nico communicated plans to each other.

The Mews figured out what they would need for food and packed accordingly.

They planned out their route.

They worked to get Persim and Midas used to Mr. Fuji, even to the point that Persim was comfortable introducing him to Rosemary.

Finally...

They were ready...

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

Cue "Hermitage"

For those not aware, the Cinnabar Island Mansion (or "Pokemon Mansion") is where Mewtwo was heavily implied (I'd say all but confirmed, but Bulbapedia says heavily implied) to have been created in the games.

So I thought it would be fun to make it prominent to my story. :3

I'm aware in the games the mansion was destroyed by the eruption... but let me have this. XD

#Linden Roots #art #comic #writing #babbies #BLH #By Lavender's Hand #I gave Cinnabar some regrowth #Because It just seemed wrong to leave it baren.#Full

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easywisdom · 1 year

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How You Can Put Yourself First Every Day?

Do you consider it selfish when you put yourself first? Do you believe it is a result of self-obsession. It is true that the concept of putting oneself first has been adapted and interpreted negatively.

People might assume that putting themselves first means being impolite and useless if they had encountered people who generally believed in not assisting others.

And those who merely have a brief understanding of this subject would undoubtedly embrace it in a way that lessens their duty to their friends, families, and community. But that is not the point of putting yourself first.

Meaning & Importance Of Putting Yourself First

It is about making decisions that are best for your long-term health. It's important to resist letting other people bully you.

It's about designing a life that fulfils your needs rather than living up to the expectations of society or other people. Caring for the people you love because they are a part of your life is putting yourself first.

Because it is your home, the environment has to be looked for and supported. Essentially, the "yourself" in put yourself first does not refer to selfish goals, carelessness, or plotting.

It involves one's physical and mental well-being as well as interpersonal harmony, love, respect, and moral principles.

How To Put Yourself First?

Understanding your body: I believe there is a lot of room for improvement in how humans relate to their bodies. We've damaged our connection with rest and taking pauses while trying to maximise productivity; for many of us, there is now guilt associated with it. It appears as though we are fleeing when we need to take a break and give our brain some time free of stress. But perhaps it's our body's way of telling us to live a balanced life.

You should live your life happily, rather productively: And while employment gives us purpose and provides for us, it shouldn't rule our lives. We must surely treat our bodies with more kindness. We must allow the body to heal naturally, thus we must give it all the time and relaxation it needs. Stop comparing our bodies to those of others. Without disregarding our bodies, which are our source of life, we can work toward our fitness objectives. Making informed food choices also means eating meals that will feed our bodies. Let's lessen suffering by being conscious of the true cost of our food to other people, animals, and the environment.

Put your voice: When you feel it is vital to speak something, don't be silent. Speaking up isn't about being clever or making needless noise; it's about standing up for our principles, encouraging others, and supporting what is worthwhile. We frequently regret expressing the things we ought to have, therefore let's put ourselves first and use our voice to express our feelings and the truth.

Live in integrity: Integrity is the discipline of being truthful and demonstrating a steadfast and unwavering adherence to high moral and ethical standards. We become role models for others and for ourselves when we live honest, mindful, compassionate, and responsible lives. This is one of the best ways of putting yourself first.

Make your life simple: Living a simple life, in my opinion, entails leading a life that is most satisfying to you because you are devoting your time and effort to the things that are most important to you. When you live simply, you consider where and how much to donate. Your efforts won't be wasted on meaningless, time-wasting tasks when you are aware of the aspects of life that really important.

You should accept yourself: Accepting who you are as you are is the essence of self-acceptance. There aren't any restrictions in place. You're a complete self-acceptor. Looking ahead can cause us to lose focus on the present moment. Acceptance shouldn't wait until we believe we are as flawless as it is possible for us to be. This doesn't imply that we view our shortcomings favourably; rather, we simply acknowledge their existence and resolve to address them. Self-acceptance helps to eliminate self-hatred. It doesn't sound like a smart idea to turn a version of ourselves that we wish to admire into something we despise. Right now, we are who we are. And we can only improve if we are aware of our foundational strengths.

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germanshepherddoginfo · 2 years

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Can Dogs Eat Gingerbread Cookies? Watch Out for These 3 Risks

Can dogs eat gingerbread cookies? If that is one of the main questions lingering in your mind, then you’re in the right place because we will be answering it shortly in this article. Gingerbread cookies are a popular treat for dogs and many people believe that they can be eaten safely. However, some experts recommend that gingerbread cookies not be given to dogs as they may contain high levels of ginger which could cause stomach upset.

What happens if my dog eats Gingerbread Cookies?

If your dog eats a gingerbread cookie, there is a small chance that it could experience some side effects. The most common ones are upset stomach and diarrhea. If these symptoms occur, it's important to contact your veterinarian as soon as possible. Sugary food and drinks have the same kind of effect on our four-legged pals that they do on people. But are there any health risks associated with a dog eating gingerbread cookies in the same manner as a human would? Related: Can dogs eat oatmeal cookies? Are they Safe? Because gingerbread has a high sugar content relative to its other ingredients, feeding it to your dog can cause his or her blood sugar to jump. If you give your dog sweet gingerbreads, you run the risk of him developing health problems such as diabetes, obesity, and dental disease. The following is a more in-depth explanation of the risks that your dog faces if you do this. Poisoning from Food Before we can answer the question of whether or not dogs can eat gingerbread cookies, we need to do an in-depth analysis of the cookie's potential deleterious effects on your four-legged pal. To begin, gingerbreads typically contain a variety of sweeteners, such as chocolate and xylitol, among other possible options. In this scenario, chocolate includes a chemical known as theobromine that is extremely toxic to dogs and cannot be digested by them. The fact that it is known to induce life-threatening repercussions, such as excessive vomiting, diarrhea, urine, an accelerated heart rate, irritation, the sensation of thirst, and muscle spasms, is the worst thing about it. On the other hand, artificial gingerbread sweeteners like xylitol are known to cause low blood sugar and liver degeneration in dogs, which are both things that you do not want your dog to experience and which you would prefer not to experience yourself. Digestion Problems It is common knowledge that dogs' stomachs become irritated when they consume sugary meals; hence, if you let your dog consume sugary gingerbread cookies, it may result in digestive troubles. What ends up happening is that the sugar in the gingerbread cookies interferes with the operations of the microorganisms in the stomach, which leads to feelings of nausea, stomach discomfort, and vomiting. Alterations in Metabolism If your dog ate sweet gingerbread cookies, the most typical change that would occur to their metabolism is an insulin imbalance. This insulin imbalance is also life-threatening because it can lead to the breakdown of muscular tissue and fat. Myristicin chemicals, which are included in other gingerbread cookie flavors like nutmeg, significantly impair the brain activities of dogs and mostly cause them to believe things that are not true.

What Should I Do If I Discover That My Dog Has Accidentally Consumed Gingerbread Cookies?

Foremost things first, try to keep a level head. If he has only consumed one or two biscuits, he will most likely experience stomach discomfort for one to two days, but this will be the only side effect. If he has had more than a few biscuits, you should take him to the veterinarian as soon as possible for an examination. After all, it's preferable to err on the side of caution rather than regret. Because it could contain so many potentially harmful substances, it is imperative that you take precautions to ensure that he does not become poisoned by nutmeg or xylitol. After eating gingerbread, you should take your dog to the veterinarian as soon as possible if you observe any of the symptoms listed above in addition to any unusual changes in his behavior.

Conclusion

So, are gingerbread cookies safe for canines to eat? The correct response is "no." Dogs should not consume gingerbread cookies because of the materials that go into their preparation. Because of this, you should steer clear of giving your dog any treats made of gingerbread cookies because doing so could put your dog's life in danger. Please don't hesitate to pass on the wisdom contained in this article to anybody and everyone you know, including your loved ones. Read the full article

#gingerbreadcookies

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty…

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression* “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too…

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit??

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat…

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup….

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…)

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

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divine-mistake · 3 years

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it's messy inside, let me take your coat

Summary: “I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”

Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut, female nudity), strong language, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of fluff, soft and nervous Bucky Barnes, original female character friends, one-night stand, body insecurity, anxiety

Word Count: 8723

A/N: This story was written for @eurynome827 and her 2k follower challenge with the prompt "Mimosas and Bloody Marys at brunch." Thank you for hosting and congrats again on your milestone!

main masterlist | AO3

“Cheers!”

The flutes clink together, orange juice sloshing and spilling and dripping down the glasses and onto the table as your giggles fade into the background noise of the café’s patio. You tip your head back as you drink, mimosas bubbly in your throat like your own happiness, threatening to pour out of you and dribble onto your shirt, already tipsy.

“God,” Carissa says, throwing herself back into the metal chair, “I cannot wait to have his babies.”

Beside her, Kora claps. “I can’t wait to be an aunt! I’m going to spoil them all so rotten you’re going to want to throttle me by the end of it.”

“Spoil them all you want, I’m having eight of ‘em.”

At that, you go ahead and polish off your drink, carbonation stinging your throat, and while you set the empty glass down your hand goes up in the air, signaling the waiter for another.

Sara points at you. “I’m with her.” She makes a face at Carissa. “If you have eight kids I will make like your dad and bounce.”

Kora slaps her on the knee but the four of you descend into laughter anyway, and it’s easy and light and beautiful, like always. Washington D.C. can be pretty in this way—iron-wrought fencing and fancy metal tables and red patio tiling. Good food, better mimosas, best friends. There’s a breeze in the air that’s calling for autumn, scattering cloth napkins sitting in laps and spreading the scent of fresh baked bread.

The bags at your feet carrying your new shoes for the winter wedding that’s approaching rustle. That feeling isn’t just D.C. It’s excitement and love and adoration, too.

Carissa, bride to be, catches you in her gaze. “When are you going to finally settle down, huh?” She gestures across the table at you with her half-filled mimosa. Everyone else looks at you too, waiting for your response.

You shrug. “You’re having plenty of babies, I don’t need any.”

“I don’t mean babies,” she says. “I mean a human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment.”

“You need—no, you deserve—someone to take care of you!” Kora adds. “You’re always taking care of everyone. Don’t you want someone to, y’know, take care of you?”

“I have plenty of vibrators in my empty apartment.”

Sara snorts, covering her mouth. The waiter delivers another round, thank god.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask, sighing. “You’re just bothering me ‘cause it’s wedding season and you want to set me up with your weird—”

“He’s not weird,” Carissa interrupts. “He’s tall and he’s mysterious which is exactly your type.”

“She’ll find someone when the time is right,” Sara says. “Just ‘cause we’re happy with our boyfriends doesn’t mean she needs one to be happy.”

“Thank you, Sara, my one-true-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world.” You force your glass against hers in a loud clank, turning the heads of all the patrons on the café’s patio before taking a gulp. Your face is already getting a little hot, the alcohol hitting you. This is why you aren’t allowed to pregame before you go to brunch anymore.

“We’re not trying to force you,” Kora starts, but her mouth is pulled into a concerned frown. “We really do just want you to be as happy as we are, that’s all.”

You smile at her. “I know.”

And you do know. You understand. It’s been years now since you’ve had anything real—anything worthwhile, to be specific. At some point, the relationships slowed down. Boyfriends became friends with benefits when you were working on your masters. Friends with benefits became ignored booty calls at two in the morning when you started your dissertation, on the road to get your doctorate. Now, you’re lucky to go home with someone from the bar, and they never, ever, come home with you.

It’s okay. You aren’t lonely. The right person just hasn’t landed in your lap, and maybe that’s kind of because it’s not open, but it’s just ‘cause you’re busy. You’re busy. Passionate. Need to change the world.

Love can wait.

The next mimosa is finished and you’re feeling a little fuzzy.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell Carissa. “I’m happy for all of you, and I’m happy with my life, and I’m happy that we’re all together and we’re celebrating and I’m happy that you all care about me enough to worry but I’m perfectly fine with how things are.”

Carissa smiles, but it’s got too much teeth. “I could set you up with Kie—”

“No, no setting me up with Kieran or Harry or Josh or anyone. But especially not Kieran.”

You’d already fucked him once and it wasn’t worth the experience.

“Fine! Fine.” Carissa busies herself with her drink. “No setting you up with Kieran.”

“Good. Now let’s talk about the reception!” You pull out your phone and open the planning spreadsheet, smiling. “So I called the venue for you about the tables…”

This is easier. Planning Carissa’s wedding, helping support her, being excited for her—that’s easier than talking about your love life. If anything, this is your love life. Taking care of the people you love, your best friends, having fun and being together and romanticizing the time you spend with them. It’s not just mimosas over brunch and a green spreadsheet for wedding planning. With them, it’s the wind in your hair and the sun making your eyes sparkle and the alcohol making all your insides feel effervescent.

It’s love. It’s perfection. It’s your own brand of happiness.

And sure, maybe it’s a little defensive, but this is easier than loving someone and trying to make them love you. It’s easier.

“Whose dress are we still waiting on?” Carissa asks a little later, mouth full of avocado and bacon and looking very un-bridely.

“Mine,” Kora says, a little guiltily. “It’s at the tailor getting taken in—again.”

“I have mine,” you pipe up, wiping your mouth of jam. “And god, do I look like a full course Michelin star meal in that piece. Like, we’re talking ass for days, legs for days, tits for—”

“Excuse me, ma’am, excuse me.” A man, towering over the café table makes himself known, dressed in dark clothes and wearing a look on his visage that you can’t name.

“—days,” you finish, swallowing hard.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says with a smile, “but I’m raising money for uh, breast cancer awareness, and I was hoping you would donate and sign up for uh, a marathon we’re doing.”

You blink. “Sorry,” you tell him, “but we don’t carry cash on us.” With a small smile, you nod at him, your eyes passing over your friends and looking around the café to see if any of the other patrons have noticed what’s going on. None of them look bothered.

“Not even for breast cancer awareness? C’mon, girl.”

“We don’t carry cash,” Sara repeats with a deadpan, but her eyes don’t meet his.

He doesn’t look at her either, content to stare at you, and your skin crawls.

“What about signing up for the marathon?”

“Fine,” you snap. Anything to get him to leave you all alone. “How do I sign up?”

“You give me your phone number and I’ll text you the details.” His grin is a little wider now, edging a little closer to where you sit at the table. You’re regretting that third mimosa. You aren’t on your game. The panic running through you is covered in a champagne haze.

You scoff. “No way.” Immediately you grab your purse, digging through it, and you slam a handful of loose change onto the table in front of him. “Here—a donation. Now please leave.”

His face twists into a scowl, but he scoops the money off the table and pockets it.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he suddenly says, and anger courses through you until you shoot up from your seat, chair skidding behind you. He’s tall—much taller than your short stature. But, fuck it, the alcohol’s dimming the fear and fueling the need for you to protect your friends.

When you glance over, Carissa is already gathering the bags, eyes wide. Kora has her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to make herself smaller, ready to run. Sara’s phone is in her hand, 9-1-1 already dialed.

And still, no one in the café is doing a goddamn thing.

“Excuse me?” You glare up at the man.

“I just wanted your number, you fat bitch.” He sneers. “No wonder you’ve got an attitude, you obviously don’t get laid.”

Really, you can sit there and say it isn’t the fat comment. It’s not the insult. You’re used to that, with your overly-generous curves and your soft jawline and the fact that you’re wearing a skirt showing off the cellulite running through your thighs like a creek and a crop top that lets everyone peek at your stretch marks. You’re used to it.

And, really, you could handle this better. You certainly have before ‘cause this isn’t the first time you’ve been hustled or the first time some creep has hit on you. Old men have been slapping your ass in public since you were sixteen. You’re hot, you get it. If you saw yourself on the street you’d want a piece of your own goddamn ass, too. It comes with the territory, but it’s gross. And it’s sad but you’re used to it. So it’s not him calling you a fat bitch.

It’s the comment about getting laid. It’s sore as fuck.

You grab your would-be fourth mimosa and drench him in it, the glass slipping from your fingers and shattering upon the patio’s tiled floor in an instant.

“Slut!” The man lunges for you and you jump away, bumping into the table and losing your footing. You fall to the ground as glass comes crashing down around you, spilling sweet-smelling alcohol all over you. Ouch. Your friends scream, but you can’t take your eyes off him.

And then a gleam of black and gold blurs past you and grabs the creep by his neck, throwing him down. Now, a tall, wide body dressed in a dark hoodie is blocking you, guarding you, sheltering you.

“Try it,” Mystery Savior says.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Carissa chants, calling your name.

Your hand is sticky when you wave her away. “Get out of here, I’m fine. Just go. I’ll meet you—meet you at Kora’s.”

“We’re not leaving you!” Sara shouts, but something, maybe adrenaline or fear or fucking champagne, is running through your blood vessels at high speed.

“Just go!” you scream back at her. “I’m not fucking kidding, go!”

Because if there is one redeemable thing about you, it’s the length you’ll go to keep the people you love safe. And Mystery Savior might have just choked a creep out for you, but he also choked a creep out for you, and that’s enough to get your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t know who the good guy is—if there even is a good guy here.

“Fuck,” the creep curses, but it comes out raspy as he grasps at his quickly bruising neck. “You’re a—” he wheezes, “—you’re a murderer!”

Mystery Savior holds up his hands, and that’s when you see it. The black and gold of a vibranium arm just peeking out of the sleeve of his hoodie.

This isn’t a murderer. Not a Mystery Savior either. This is James Bucky Barnes, the Avenger, holy shit. Definitely good guy. Probably. He’s reformed, the news talks about it.

“Caught me,” he says, voice monotone. “What are you gonna do about it?”

If you weren’t currently sprawled on the ground, covered in mimosa, and panicking wildly about whatever is unfolding right in front of you, the very buzzed part of your brain would really appreciate the smoothness of Bucky’s voice when he said that, the cool, calm, collected delivery.

You’ll file it in the back of your mind for when you go back to your empty apartment.

“That fat ass ain’t worth it,” the creep chokes out, scrambling to get up. As soon as he’s on his feet, poised to take off, Bucky moves faster than you could have imagined and grabs the guy by his shirt.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” You can’t see his face, but you think Bucky might be smiling.

A portly man, a little shorter than Bucky, pushes through the gathering crowd, eyes wide and panicked, face red, already sweating. When you glance at his golden nametag, it reads: Jason, Manager. Cool that the manager showed up this late. If Bucky hadn’t stepped in, you’d probably be in a pile of limbs on the ground by now. Also—is he going to comp your bill? ‘Cause at this point, you’re starting to think you deserve it.

Okay, not a good time to be distracted.

“Thank you for getting him, sir,” the manager says, a little breathless. “Winter Soldier, sir.”

“It’s Bucky,” he says, and then he shoves the creep toward the manager. “Not sure why you didn’t step in before he got violent.”

Exactly! Why did everyone just stand around and do nothing as some six-foot man hustled the four women sitting beside the street? You glance around again, seeing your friends have disappeared and now, both the wait staff and other café patrons, are crowded around your table. It’s a little unsettling how no one cared to even look at you until everything escalated.

As the manager grabs the creep and hauls him off toward the street to wait for the cops, Bucky Barnes relaxes his shoulders and turns toward you slowly, and it’s—well, for lack of a better word—it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

He looks nothing like the superhero in the pictures. Here, with the D.C. sun hitting him unabashedly, his slate eyes like glass marbles, the lines surrounding them wrinkled in concern, his tongue darting between his lips to wet the skin where his teeth bite down, a habitual sore, his short locks ruffled by the breeze or maybe the fight or maybe he just wakes up perfectly rumpled, here he looks like a man.

“You okay?” he asks, somehow nonchalant and still worried, and he holds out a calloused hand to you.

Or, well, maybe Bucky had been watching. And maybe that’s enough.

God, you don’t even know this man outside of his Avenger persona, the headlines you read on the news, the pictures you see on social media, but there’s just something about him that makes you want to trust him. Like he guarantees safety, and you know that no one, least of all an Avenger, can guarantee safety. Even if that’s their job.

Stop feeling safe around him.

But you take his hand anyway, his long, thick fingers folding over your own like he means to swallow them, and Bucky pulls you up as though you weigh nothing. In fact, he does it so easily that you crash straight into him with a yelp and his arms instantly slide around your waist to catch you as your knees go weak, buckling beneath you.

When you look up at him, your hands trying to find purchase in the material of his hoodie, he’s staring down at you with the hint of a smile.

“Thanks,” you say, quiet and a little stunned.

His lips crack a little wider. “No problem.”

For a few seconds longer than deemed socially appropriate, you stare at Bucky, captured by the changing color of his blue-gray eyes. And then, as if god is slapping you on the back of your head, you blink and remember that you are covered in alcohol and currently pressed against the chest of a superhero, and your eyes go wide as you quickly push away from him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you tell him. “I’m disgusting—you probably have orange juice all over you now, fuck.”

“Hey,” he says, his flesh hand wrapping around your upper arm to steady you, “it’s okay. Seriously though, are you alright?”

You open your mouth to say something and then shut it again when you realize nothing sounds like the right answer. Bucky waits patiently though, peering down at you, his grip a little more grounding than you wish it was.

“Yes?” you say, but it sounds like a question. “I mean, maybe? I’m—It’s not like I’m not used to this happening. I’ll be fine.”

Bucky frowns. “Used to it?”

You shrug. “Not all men are superheroes. Most don’t have good intentions. And I’m not even that pretty, can you imagine what other women deal with?”

It slips out before you realize it, the self-hatred you keep at bay.

“Not pretty?” Bucky’s face twists into something confused. “That guy assaulted you just to get your number. I’m not saying it’s right, but if you think you aren’t pretty, well that’s just wrong.”

Oh god, what are you supposed to say now? So stupid. If you had just kept your mouth shut, you wouldn’t have forced an Avenger—a really fucking hot Avenger—to give you an awkward compliment and now you have to scramble to figure out what to say. If you deny the compliment, you’ll look ungrateful. If you accept the compliment, that’s too egotistical. Too into yourself.

You’ve backed yourself into a corner here, and Bucky’s on the other side of the ring.

“Look,” he interrupts your inner monologuing, running a hand through his hair and glancing away, “if you don’t mind me saying it, you’re—well—you’re gorgeous. I hope you know that.”

Your mouth falls open and you stare at him, nervous energy radiating off him, and when his eyes shift back to yours he coughs.

“I mean, don’t take that the wrong way. I’m not—I’m not trying to hit on you after what just happened, I promise.” His eyes go wide, then, and he throws his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. “That’s not to say I’m not! Not hitting on you. I mean, shit, I just think you’ve gotta be the most beautiful dame—woman, sorry—that I’ve seen in years.”

There’s something soft about it, something sweetly suffocating, like buttercream frosting in the back of your throat, about his nervousness. The gentle panic, the way his eyes go back and forth from the ground at your feet to your eyes like he’s checking to make sure he hasn’t said the wrong thing, but he just keeps putting his foot in his mouth like it’s a magnet to metal. It’s endearing. It’s real.

“Do you want to get a drink with me?” you blurt out, and Bucky blanches. “I know it’s only, like, noon but I need a drink. And I owe you. For saving me.”

He relaxes at this, another one of those small smiles easing its way onto his face, and his shoves his hands into his pockets like he wasn’t just panicking two seconds ago about calling you a dame, which if anyone else had done, you would have socked them in the mouth, but he’s like one-hundred-and-six or something and you kinda get it.

“The drinks you’re wearing ain’t enough, doll?”

A laugh breaks from your mouth and he lights up, grinning.

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” You can’t help the smile splitting your own lips. “Sure, make fun of the girl who just got hustled, easy prey.”

The way he looks at you is burning.

“I’m Bucky,” he says. “James Bucky Barnes.”

“I know,” you say with a laugh. When you give him your name, he almost looks like he wants to try it out, but he keeps it on his tongue like he’s tasting it instead.

“So, a drink?” he asks, a little cautiously.

“I’d like that.” Then, you look down and curse. “But I’m gross. I really need to go home and change.”

Bucky nods, but a look of disappointment crosses his face, there and then gone again, just enough to make your heart tighten into a painful brick weight atop your chest. Everything in your brain is saying no, don’t do it, don’t do it. But your heart hurts and it hurts for him, a man you’ve only met in news articles and awkward interviews until now, when he’s saved you from being slapped around by some creep or worse, and god, you have such a soft heart sometimes and it’s gotten you in trouble before but you can’t just ignore it.

“Do you like Bloody Marys?”

His eyes meet yours again and you’re drawn into the storm that swirls in his irises once again.

“Never had one,” he admits. “They don’t look much like a drink.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I have the stuff to make a really good one at home. And then I could change and clean up a little and still y’know, thank you for saving my life? I mean it’s not much, but—”

“Yes,” he says, his voice as sure and steady as it was earlier when he was in hero mode. “That sounds great.”

Oh, you’re fucked. You’re so fucked.

The walk back to your apartment isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not easy. Bucky walks beside you like a forcefield, using his body to guide you through the throng of people walking along the streets without even touching you. He reminds you of a sheepdog. The thought almost makes you laugh more than a few times during your stroll.

He walks with his hands in his pockets most of the way, especially his metal one. And he isn’t much of a talker, not that you mind as long as he keeps answering the questions you’re asking him, like what kind of food he likes and what he thinks about sphynx cats and if he likes memes—of which his answers consist of anything, what the hell is that and why is it naked, and a resounding yes.

Bucky asks some of his own questions, though they are few and far between and a lot more cohesive and meaningful than your own. He asks about how long you’ve lived in Washington D.C., about what you do for a living, and about your friends.

“Why did they leave you there?” He’s staring at you when he asks, brows sharp and furrowed.

“Because I told them to,” you answer. “I didn’t want them to get hurt or anything. And I’m kind of the person that if I’m yelling, you better listen ‘cause I’m usually yelling for a good reason.”

He nods like he understands, but his lips are pressed flat. “They shouldn’t have left you.”

You shrug. “I wanted them to. I would’ve been more pissed if they hadn’t run off and gotten tangled up in the middle of everything.”

“You’re a good person,” he says, still looking at you. His face is softer, that hint of a curve in his mouth the only sign that anything’s changed.

You give him your own smile. “Maybe.”

It’s only once you get to the front door of your apartment that things shift and your stomach rolls, heavy and fluttering light all at once, a not-so-familiar-anymore anxiety chilling your skin. The keys in your hand jingle and you aren’t sure if it's because your fingers are shaking or not.

“It’s not much,” you say, beckoning him inside, “but y’know, it’s enough for me.”

Bucky steps through the door with a reverence, a caution, a carefulness that strikes you right in the heart. He looks out of place for a minute, like he’s never entered an apartment before. And then, as you kick off your shoes, losing the extra inch of height, smiling and gesturing for him to do the same, there’s something in him that snaps and bends and his shoulders fall, relaxed.

He toes off his boots, leaving them by the door, and suddenly there’s a different air in the apartment. Almost intimate. Comfortable.

Stop it. You don’t even know him.

“Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything? A glass of water or something?”

Bucky shakes his head as he follows behind you, slowly, his eyes roaming over your space. It’s really not much, you know that. A little more than a box with a bathroom and a bedroom attached, what with the living room and the kitchen being “open-concept,” a word you’re pretty sure was invented to sell tiny apartments for more money. You don’t even have a table to sit at—just a couch to plunk down on while you’re eating.

“I’m alright, doll,” he says, running a hand over the soft cushions of said couch. “You go change, I’m fine.”

As soon as you disappear into your bedroom, the door locked behind you, you lean against the wood and let out a sigh. This is awkward. What the fuck were you thinking? Asking an Avenger—Bucky Barnes—back to your apartment for a drink? A bloody mary? Who are you trying to kid?

It’s been years, literal years since you’ve invited anyone back to your apartment. In fact, you don’t think anyone besides your friends has even stepped foot inside. Maybe they haven’t even made it to the door.

Why would you invite him here?

In frustration, you strip your dirty shirt off and throw it onto the floor, shimmy-ing out of your skirt and kicking it toward the hamper just as well. You sort through your drawers, looking for something comfortable to throw on. Or maybe you should wear something nice? Something that looks similar to what you wore to brunch. But Bucky’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie. But he also looks like a modern god in just that.

Fuck. You are fucked. Why did you ask him back to your place for a drink? What did you think would happen?

You throw an old band t-shirt over your head and pull a black pair of loose shorts up over your hips, cursing when you realize they don’t even hit mid-thigh. Does that seem suggestive? Is Bucky going to think you want to fuck him if you walk out in these?

Do you want to fuck Bucky?

No. No. This is not what this is about. You invited him over because you owed him a drink and because you needed to change and because he seemed so damn sad when you said you couldn’t go out for a drink. So you asked him to come home with you. Oh, god, that’s so complicated. What have you gotten yourself into?

Stop. Just stop thinking.

But—you have to admit it to yourself—you want it. You want him.

Your friends’ earlier words repeat in your head. A human, a connection, something that isn’t an empty apartment. They aren’t wrong for thinking that it’s something you want. For most of your life, you’ve lived thinking that you shouldn’t need someone. But isn’t it okay to want someone? You’re tired of being alone. Bucky Barnes is the first man that’s been in your empty apartment since you moved in, and maybe it’s a bold move, but you know what?

You throw yourself out of your bedroom, probably looking a little too frazzled, and you quickly comb your fingers through your hair as nonchalantly as possible to fix the flyaways. Bucky’s sitting on your couch, looking lonely, his hands rigid on his spread knees.

He looks like he fits there, on your sofa, in your empty apartment.

“Look,” you say in a breath, catching his attention. When he looks at you, his eyes sweep over your body like he’s never seen a woman before; shy, timid, a little nervous, but there’s something else there. It’s the same thing that’s heating your insides right now.

“I can make you a drink,” you offer, leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest, staring at him, “or I can come over there and you can kiss me drunk instead, ‘cause I’m already halfway there.”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then a cocky grin is curling his lips up, his face brightening the entire apartment. You don’t know if your body is warm because you’re embarrassed at your own daring or because Bucky Barnes is so beautiful it’s criminal, but you know that there’s static and stretch in your limbs and desire pooling in your belly. Liquor and lust are chasing away whatever fears you had before.

“Really?” he asks, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that reminds you of what a fucking flirt he is, or that he can be, and you think butterflies might be taking up residence in your tummy.

“Really,” you mimic, wearing your own charmed smile. Bucky lets his head fall to the side as he looks over you, then crooks one metal finger at you, beckoning you to join him on the couch. With as much confidence as you can muster, you stride toward him, putting a little swing in your steps. Maybe you look crazy doing it, but it’s enough that his eyes flicker down to watch your hips, and it sends a thrill through you.

“This isn’t like me,” you tell him as you sink down beside him, as close as possible while still giving him space to bolt if he needs to. “I don’t invite strangers over to my house like this.”

He smiles and it’s warm and big and easy. “I’m glad you did,” he says.

God, his eyes are pretty. “Me too.”

With Bucky’s thigh pressed against yours, his hand resting dangerously close to one of your bare knees, knuckles brushing your skin every time he shifts, you’re melting into his touch and you don’t care. It’s intoxicating—not the alcohol, which you swear should be wearing off by now, but him.

“I don’t do this often,” you say again, like you need to defend your bold behavior.

“Does that mean I’m special?”

“I think so,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear being this close.

Kinder than you thought possible, somehow simultaneously suave but still a little nervous, and yet authentic to a fault, Bucky Barnes is a thousand and one contradictions. Nothing like you ever thought he’d be. And maybe that’s what gives you the courage, the thought that someone so hardened could be so soft. That someone who looks like him, chiseled and striking and like a charcoal sketching on stark paper, could turn red at your innuendos and your charmed quips. That there’s a chance he could be attracted to you.

This—This is the connection you’ve been waiting for. The person who makes you feel like this. Tipsy when you shouldn’t be tipsy anymore.

“I know we barely know each other, but I really, really want you, Bucky.”

Your shoulder is pressed to his shoulder, your chest nearing his chest, your chin tipped up to stare at his eyes, his nose, his parted lips. Bucky stares down at you, his Adam’s apple dipping and bobbing as he swallows hard. Your lips curl, threatening to giggle. He’s so damn cute. How can someone like him, an Avenger, a super soldier, look so cute?

But the hand at your knee finally creeps up your skin, his hot palm glossing over your bare thigh, resting a little higher than a friendly touch would go. He presses indents—not too hard, but not too soft—into your plush, silken flesh.

“You do?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lip and you want to follow it back into his mouth with your own.

To answer, you push closer, your hand coming up to drape across his neck, a little off-balance as you sit up on your knees.

“Mhm,” you hum, and that’s all he needs to grasp your thigh roughly and drag you over him, seating you upon his lap as a squeak of surprise flies from your lips. His hands fall to your hips as if your body was made for him to hold and suddenly you’re looking down at him and he’s looking up at you instead, and god, he’s staring at you like you’re heaven and earth and everything he ever needed to be saved.

“I want you too,” he says, exhaling as if you’ve stolen all the air in his lungs.

“Then will you finally kiss me?” Your nose brushes his and his breath ghosts over your mouth.

Bucky’s lips surge up to meet yours, swallowing the last sounds of your words like it’s the first drink of water he’s had in years, cool and refreshing and tinged with smoke, something uniquely him.

As your hands thread through his short locks, desperate to hold onto him in any way, his fingers begin to curve over your ass. You rock into him, pressing against him harder, sucking at his plush lips as his tongue skims over your top lip until you grant him entry. Bucky kisses like he’s trying to taste every single part of you and it sends waves of pleasure through your belly and to your core, where you grind down until you feel his hardening length beneath you.

Immediately, you start to strip him of his hoodie, divesting him of that layer to feel the soft shirt beneath—but only barely because it’s hell trying to pull his hands away from where they’re touching you.

And he’s touching you everywhere. His fingers roam over every generous piece of your body. The silken planes of your thighs where he’s pushed your shorts up, the wide canyons of your hips, the bumpy hills of your waist where your stomach is too big and too soft and where he slips his mismatched hands under your shirt to trace the lines of your stretch marks. It isn’t long until he brushes by the band of your bra and then he’s tugging at the hem of the shirt, pulling away from your lips long enough to rid you of it.

You take the moment to rid him of his too, and then you’re both topless, still sitting atop his lap and panting from lack of air. No words are shared between you before Bucky is capturing your mouth again. It’s only passion, frenzied and hot and wanting.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra blindly as your teeth sink into his bottom lip, nipping and giggling and tangling your tongue around his. As soon as you hear the snap, you lean back and Bucky pulls it off you, flinging the offending garment somewhere else in the apartment.

Now, with your naked chest completely bared to him, you wait for it to happen. For his eyes to dart away, for the apprehension to cross his features, for the disgust to set it. The real reason that it’s been so long since you’ve invited someone into your empty apartment—into your empty life.

You’re scared.

Like you’re expecting the blow, you close your eyes and brace yourself, but you don’t cover up. You’ve learned not to cover up. You refuse to make yourself smaller, or prettier, or more tolerable for people. It’s why you don’t get entangled with one-night stands anymore, why you don’t ask strangers to come home with you, why you don’t let your girlfriends set you up with anyone. Because you refuse to make yourself something you’re not just to fit in, and that’s what always, always ends up happening.

Bucky touches you and it makes you flinch, his vibranium fingers a little chilly against the soft, warm skin of your stomach. He touches you and it’s electric, but you don’t open your eyes.

You’re too afraid to look and see the disappointment in his gorgeous blues.

His hands skim over your rib cage, sliding around the sides of your waist, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts. You shiver at the contact. He continues his trail upwards, but then he lays his palms on your shoulders and caresses over your neck, his fingers finally finding the edge of your soft jaw to cradle your face. A shaky breath leaves you.

“Look at me,” he whispers, closer than you thought.

And no matter how much you’ll berate yourself over it later, there is something so safe about Bucky Barnes that your lashes flutter and your eyes open, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, staring at you with those stormy sea eyes half-lidded and glazed over with lust, his pink lips parted in awe, and you gasp at the intensity that strikes right through the center of you.

“You’re…” he trails off, swallowing nervously again. “Doll, I don’t think I know a word in English that describes you.”

Bucky presses forward, his chest brushing against your hardened nipples, stealing your breath and then sealing your lips with a kiss that isn’t like before. This kiss isn’t needy or wanting or filled with teeth and tongue and desperation. This time, his mouth moves with yours as if he’s trying to spell out a thousand words in twenty different languages to tell you how he feels, his lips leading yours in a dance that isn’t worried about an audience or the music or if you step on his toes.

When he pulls away, you wonder if your mouth is as swollen as his.

“You’re perfect,” he says with a finality in his tone that almost makes you collapse into his arms.

Then, Bucky wastes no time and captures a nipple in between those swollen lips, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud noise in surprise. His metal hand finds your other breast, thumb stroking over the bud until you’re arching further into him. As his tongue traces patterns around one nipple, his fingers tweak and twist and pull its sister, and your hands grasp his broad shoulders in an attempt to hold on.

Finally, he presses gentle kisses over your rosy buds, all worn out by his touches, and then circles your breasts with more kitten licks and grazes of his teeth. Bucky’s hands settle at your hips again, fingers grasping your skin like he can’t get enough of the feel of you. He’s trying to imprint your body on his palms.

“I need to have you, doll,” he says all breathy as if he isn’t the one absolutely drenched right now. “Please. Please,” he asks so softly that you wonder if this is the man who even came to your rescue today, all tall and brooding. When you grind down on his lap again, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans as he lets out a groan and tightens his grip on your waist, you realize you’re not the only one feeling the tension.

Still, there’s something cheeky left in you and you reach out to swipe your finger across his nose, effectively booping it cutely. A grin splits your lips.

“You need me?” you ask teasingly. “What if I need you instead?”

It’s like it sets something ablaze in him or something, ‘cause as soon as you go in for another kiss, Bucky stands up from the couch, his hands cradling your ass as you shriek and wrap your legs around him in reflex.

“Oh my god—”

“Now you’ve done it,” he grunts, burying his face in your neck to pepper kisses all over the stretch of skin that encompasses your shoulder, your jawline, even up into your hairline by your ear.

“Oh my god, put me down Bucky, I’m—you’re gonna drop me, I’m too heavy!”

“Heavy?” He chuckles against your throat and the vibrations almost make you shudder in pleasure. God, what is this man doing to you? “Darlin’, I don’t think you know the meaning of heavy.”

Bucky flashes you a wide, almost predatory grin, and you wonder where that soft, nervous boy went.

“If I wanted to,” he says, his voice low and steady, “I could fuck you right here, in the middle of the room, for hours.” He must feel the shiver that goes through your entire body because he’s laughing again. “But I want to fuck you into your mattress if that’s okay. Can I do that?”

Your throat feels dry when you whisper, “Yes. Please.”

He punctuates your plea with a heated kiss to your lips, his tongue tasting the citrus and bubble from your mimosas, the alcohol long since worn off. It’s all him that you feel, all him that intoxicates you, and all him around you as he walks you into your bedroom, not even straining under your weight, and dumps you onto the middle of your sheets.

There, he cages you, hovering above you to kiss down your body, already intent on tearing your shorts off.

“Bucky,” you whine. In the afternoon light streaming through the single window in your room, his eyes are a startling color you wish you could name, all clear and confident and crystal and god, god, his fingers are already exploring the slit of your core so lightly it makes you flush and want to hide, your inner thighs sticky and coated in your own slick from how hot he’s made you with such simple touches.

“You want me?” he asks as if he doesn’t know.

“Yes,” you hiss in pleasure, body writhing beneath him. Bucky leans down to kiss the shell of your ear, his tongue blazing a hot trail that makes you moan and buck your hips up to meet his, but he won’t have any of that.

“Good,” he says, “‘cause I need to have you, and I don’t plan on letting you go ‘till I’ve gotten everything you’ve got to give, doll.”

That nervous Bucky, all awkward smiles and panicked glances and sweet lines, he’s gone. In his place is this Bucky, assured and charming and suave and smooth and making your eyes roll back into your head until a scream is threatening to burst from your lips unless he swallows it with his own kiss, which he does, over and over again.

“I’m gonna ravage you, darlin’.”

You aren’t sure which one you like better—but is it greedy to say both?

As the light of a new day spreads through your apartment, you awaken easily, softly, but painfully. Someone’s pulled the blankets up to your chin and tucked them around you, and the thought leaves an empty feeling inside of you. When you stretch, every part of you burns deliciously, a memory from the hours spent in bed, on the couch, on the fucking counter after you’d eaten and he still wasn’t satisfied, and then again in bed.

And now, looking over at the space beside you, he’s gone. His clothes are gone from the floor. There’s no sound echoing in the building. He even left you tucked in, for god’s sake.

Your apartment is just as it always has been—empty.

With a groan, you kick the covers off and plant your feet on the floor, willing yourself to get up. The ache in your muscles is nothing more than a pleasant memory, an unpleasant reminder of the marks he left on you, his absence.

Stop it. You shouldn’t have even gotten attached to him in the first place. You knew what this was, and he did too, and it’s no wonder he’s gone this morning.

Get over it.

You swipe an oversized shirt from your dresser and throw it over your head as you stride out toward the kitchen, content to go pantyless for the day after the abuse you put it through last night. Yawning, your eyes screwed shut in another big stretch to warm up your overused muscles, you hear him before you see him.

“Mornin’, doll.”

Like that, your eyes snap open and he’s there, standing in your tiny kitchen in nothing but last night’s boxers, looking fucking glorious in the spotlight of the warm sun that’s streaming through the room and highlighting the counters.

“Bucky?” you ask, but it’s a little loud and a little shrieking, something you don’t intend. But all he does is smile at you, metal fingers tapping the plastic countertop, so at ease he just looks like he belongs there.

“I thought I’d make you breakfast but you have nothing in your fridge,” he jokes, leaning back against the drawers and crossing his arms over his bare chest.

You shift, embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah, I need to go shopping.”

A long stretch of silence fills your apartment and you’re unsure of what to say in order to break it. Bucky’s clearly watching you, drinking in the sight of your love-marked body, bruises peeking out of the hem of your shirt that barely skims past the tops of your thighs, and you remember you’re wearing nothing underneath.

And he’s here, right here, and you really aren’t sure why. It seems the two of you have almost switched places. Where Bucky was nervous and shy at first, he’s now confident and comfortable and you’re left with heated cheeks and a tongue-tied in knots. Whatever boldness that came over you all yesterday has fled.

It’s left a deep pocket of insecurity inside of you.

“Why are you still here?” you ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, like you don’t care, but your voice shakes a little. He’s too far away to really tell, but you think a flash of hurt passes over Bucky’s brow.

“‘Cause you still owe me a drink,” he says as if it's obvious, a small smile still sitting so prettily on his mouth.

You blink, a little confused, but shuffle closer. “Bloody Mary?”

“Yeah,” he says with a deep breath, his grin growing bigger the closer that you come toward him. “Will you still make me one?”

You nod, toes finally crossing into the kitchen, and then you and Bucky are staring at each other. There are scratches left like the bones of a graveyard on his arms, and you’re almost sure if he turned around they’d cover his neck and back just as well. Seeing those reddened marks, similar to the bruises he’s left on you, makes you relax your shoulders just a little.

“Do you need help?” he asks, eyes sweeping over your barely covered form.

“No,” you say, heading to the kitchen which is little more than a countertop, a stove, and a fridge. “But you can keep me company.”

So this is what happens in the morning after. Bucky leans against the counter next to you, watching you with a burning intensity that nearly matches last night’s, and you pull all the ingredients out and line them up next to two glasses and try not to falter under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re this fascinating thing he needs to study and it bothers you, but only in the best of ways.

“Do you always stare this hard at your dates?” A smile plays at your lips as you crack open the tomato juice.

He doesn’t look away. “No,” he says, but he sounds unsure. “Is this a date, doll?” There’s something in his voice that you can’t figure out, faintly hopeful, fairly confused. Vaguely surprised, even.

You shrug. “Maybe.” Especially after all of yesterday, you would hope he thought so.

But Bucky shakes his head. “No.”

Ow.

That hurt more than you were expecting it to. Calling yourself his date had only been a joke meant to lighten the mood, ease him up a little, cure the tension swirling in the room. You guess you should have expected it, though. You owed him a drink—he didn’t owe you a date. It wasn’t supposed to be a date, anyway.

All you had done was sleep together, for fuck’s sake. This is why you hate morning afters. This is why you would have preferred it if he had been gone when you woke.

But was that even true? Because the relief you felt when you found him waiting for you in the kitchen was immense and hard to understand.

You open the bottle of vodka a little more forcefully than you intended.

“When we go out on a real date,” he continues, and your eyes meet, “I’ll be taking you out and treating you.” A slow grin crawls over his face that reminds you of his wicked mouth and what it can do and the sight makes your heart beat and beat and beat, faster and faster, like the wings of a hummingbird, quick quick quick.

“When?”

“When,” he affirms.

“That’s bold of you,” you say, popping ice cubes from a tray into the glasses.

“Maybe,” he says, “but I know what I want now.” Bucky shifts a little closer to you, his vibranium arm brushing by the bare skin of your soft one as you try and focus on not spilling the juice, but you can smell him and he smells like cedar and bergamot and smoke and clove. A smell that consumed you whole last night, surrounded you, drowned you in it.

He’s so close you can feel him inhale.

“I’ve lived a long time not knowing—not getting to decide—what I want,” he admits, his voice low and quiet and soothing your nervous heart. “So you can call it bold, but I call it right.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your hands still and you look up at him, eyes wide. In the soft white lights of your tiny kitchen, sharing the tight space with him so close, Bucky’s eyes are thunder and rain and lightning all at once, peace and chaos both, promising release and the sweet scent of earth and oil afterward.

“You don’t even know me,” you whisper.

Bucky leans closer. “But I want to.”

He’s so close, too close, close enough that he can surely hear the rhythm of your heart, unsteady and racing just for him. You could surge forward and kiss him, stake your claim once again on those pinkened lips that have held your attention from the first time you saw them, feel the stubble of his jaw rub against the soft peach fuzz of your own, let it remind you of how it felt against the apex of your thighs as he made you cry out over and over again, breaking on his tongue over and over again.

It makes you feel dizzier than any alcohol ever could.

But Bucky reaches over, past you, and takes one of the glasses from your hand, warm fingers brushing over your cooler ones. He holds it up, toward you, gesturing for a toast. With a swallow, hardly glancing away from his slate eyes to grab the other glass, you tap your Bloody Mary against his with a soft clink.

He watches you over the rim as he takes his first sip and you think he might be smirking. Then, he darts toward you and takes your lips in his own, tasting of spice and tomato juice and perfection, all Bucky, all for you.

When he pulls away, too quickly, he rests his forehead against your and looks down at you, staring into your hazy eyes.

“Will you let me stay?” he asks, like he doesn’t know what you’ll say. The soft, nervous Bucky is peeking out from behind his confident visage once again, his voice hopeful and frightened and the hand that’s gliding beneath your shirt and over your waist more timid than it was last night.

There’s a million things you can say. You can tell him to take you out to brunch instead. You can tell him you’re too busy. You can tell him that this was a one-night stand, it was only ever meant to be a one night stand, and that it was fun but you can’t afford to get attached to him and god, you know you’re going to get attached to him if he stays and that scares the ever-living fuck out of you. You can tell him that it’s messy here, inside your empty apartment, inside your empty heart. You can tell him that he could take up residence here. You can tell him so, so many things.

“Yes,” you say instead, and Bucky laughs against your mouth when he kisses you hard once more.

#Eury2kchallenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #plus sized reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes smut #smut #divine masterlist

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eeteernity · 3 years

Note

hello if you're writing can I please get a diluc, xiao, bennett, and jean with a s/o that died? tysm

Oh my god I completely forgot that my requests were open but ty for requesting <3 and ofc I’ll do it

Diluc is 100% drowning himself in work

He finds it hard to do anything besides that, a lot of things he would do outside of work he would do with you so everything reminds him of you

He has trouble sleeping, first his bed is very lonely without you, and second all his dreams are about you good or bad

He has so many regrets

Like he wished he had been there or spent more time with you, or even being able to say I love you one last time

He may get snappy with the maids but he always quickly apologises

I pray for donna bc she’s gonna have no luck getting him to open up now

If you died to the fatui like his dad he would be steaming with anger, about how scared you must of been and how they took another loved one from him

If you had any activity that you would keep up everyday (e.g gardening or smth like that) he would make sure to get a maid to attend to it everyday before he’s ready to take over

If y’all have a kid?

Oh my god he will treasure them with his life

They’re all he has left of you so he would kind of become a helicopter parent

If his kid ever asks about you he always says how kind and beautiful you were

Man might become an alcoholic 🙊

the pain might leave him soon and he might open up again, but it’s going to take a lot to let him open up again after you die

Drowns himself in work 2.0

Well if you call taking all his anger out on demons then yeah

Then man hates himself so much he can’t even look in mirrors anymore

He’s even more that he couldn’t save you

He wasn’t fast enough to get you help, he panicked when you were hurt, he didn’t know where to take you and he messed up

And now you’re gone

He’s so mad at you for a bit, he’s mad that you made him fall in love with a mortal, he’s mad how fragile you were

But then he’s mad at himself for being weak, if he can’t save his lover how can he protect liyue?

He doesn’t need food or sleep so that doesn’t matter but he tends to to ask for almond tofu anymore

If you guys had a kid he would be so protective yet distant at the same time

Your kid will probably be half adeptus and half human like ganyu and yanfei so he doesn’t need to worry about them as much

But he definitely warns them about falling in love with mortals and how much it could hurt them

If he’s ever asked about you he doesn’t tend to say much besides that he loves you too much

Manz is depressed

Who knew someone could hate themselves so much

No matter how much people say that it wasn’t his fault he can’t believe it he knows it was his bad luck that killed you

The cant focus on his health at all, all he can do is cry

The guy wishes he told you to leave before the bad luck got to you he knew that you were too good to be true and now look what happened

He’s so mad at himself

Everyone pities him Sm

He doesn’t even want to go on adventures anymore, it was bennys adventure duo and now it’s just Benny

He actually forgives whatever killed you he knows that is the first step to healing, he knows hatred isn’t good for him

He makes sure to visit your grave often

If y’all had a kid they are so spoiled fr

As much as he wants to keep their kid away from the big scary world he knows he can’t, he can’t left your death affect the way he sees the world

Whenever the kid asks about you bennett goes on such a long rant on how amazing you were and how much he still loves you

He may have trouble opening up but he’s still positive

Overall he’s good at healing

Drowning herself in work 3.0

Oh my god this girl did not take care of herself before but now you’re gone, she’s literally on life support

The day when it was announced of your death was basically the day she died

Everything became so mundane for her

She got up, worked and then went to sleep

Everyone was worried for her, especially her sister

She tried to get more people to join the knights so mondstadt could be a safer place

She’s not even mad at anyone, not even the thing that killed you she’s just empty

She definitely gets a 2 week break from being in charge just so she could grieve (she could ask for more if she wanted but not her)

She tries to take up a hobby that you used to have to feel closer too you

She wears an accessory that used to wear (e.g headband Jewellery)

If y’all have a kid she will try her damn hardest to spare time for them, they’re already growing up without one parent can’t make it two

whenever the kid would ask about you she would get a bit somber while she talked about how much she loves you

Tired mum is tired

Actually give her a break don’t die 🙄💅

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #second madame nie #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #what does the fox say

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godoflobsters · 3 years

Text

The Brothers and Dateables With a Tattoo Artist MC

My own MC was a tattoo artist before she came to the Devildom, so I thought I’d write up some head cannons with a tattoo artist MC.

MC is gender neutral!

Mammon

Nobody can convince me that the “Brothers Under a Pact” squad wouldn't be the first ones to get tattoos from MC, and Mammon would definitely be the first

Definitely likes to brag about it too

Don't remind him that there are countless people in the human realm that you tattooed before him or he will pout

People tend to think that Mammon is cheap and would try to talk you into giving him free or cheap tattoos, but he couldn't stand to be like that towards you especially regarding something that you’re so good at

Our first man works his butt off every time he wants to get some new ink from you

Likes to give you a big ole tip every time

Gets fidgety when he has to sit still for too long so you two have to take breaks often

Prefers small/medium sized tattoos rather than really big ones

One time after he started getting tattoos from you, he was at a modeling gig and they tried to make him cover them up with makeup, he quit and that magazine went bankrupt not too long after...dont fuck with the avatar of greed

Once your shop starts taking off in the Devildom, he and Asmo try to convince you to do a shoot for Majolish(They definitely didn't pull some strings to get Majolish to do a whole segment about you and your business)

Beelzebub

The second brother to get a tattoo from MC

Refuses to get any food related tattoos: he doesn't want to accidentally take a chunk out of himself when he gets blinded by his hunger

This man has a very high pain tolerance and sits like a rock while you're tattooing him and you love him for it

He definitely needs snack breaks during longer sessions though

Has a memorial tattoo for Lillith over his heart that matches with one on Belphie

While making this list I was randomly blessed with the mental image of Beel with abuncha old school American traditional tattoos and you can pry that headcannon from my cold, dead hands

Mammon likes to brag that he has the most tattoos from you, but Beel might give him a run for his money, he doesn't mind Mammon’s bragging most of the time though, so he just lets him believe whatever he wants this time

Simeon

But Simeon has never been all that great at following the rules that they set for him

The first of the dateables to get a tattoo

He wasn't actually planning on getting a tattoo at first, but one day he overheard Luke trying to scold you for all of your tattoos(definitely before the incident with Beel and Lucifer in the underground tomb) and that was the only push he needed to jump on the “tattoos from MC” train

There is a lot of rhetoric in the Celestial Realm about how “Your body is a temple and you should not mark it”

He’s still not willing to stray too far from his roots though, so he’d probably get something with vaguely religious undertones

Absolutely delights in the shocked look on your face and the sheepish questions on whether angels are allowed to do this

Once he’s finally convinced you that you're not damning him to fall by tattooing him, the process goes by very easily

He is very easygoing and open regarding designs and he handles the pain very well

He absolutely loves to show his tattoo off, even when he goes home to the Celestial Realm and receives his reprimands from Michael

Leviathan

The third brother to get a tattoo from MC

Didn't want to get a tattoo at first, all of that physical contact and pain on top of it? No way

But then Mammon, Beel, and even Simeon all got one and he got jealous

You're HIS Henry, why are THEY the ones who get to wear your art? He might’ve been able to deal with his dumb brothers, but SIMEON TOO?

You gotta sit down with him and have a nice long chat about it, making sure this is something that he would actually want to do and not just his envy talking

Spoiler alert: It was definitely just his envy talking

He realises that he is actually oddly attached to the idea of getting a tattoo from you now though, so he comes up with designs and draws them on himself until he is certain that he won't regret it

Would get something tiny and probably gaming related

Definitely very squeamish about the pain aspect but the design that the two of you came up with is very simple and small, so he is able to make it through without fainting

He absolutely loves his new tattoo...but he is never doing that again

Belphegor

Fourth brother to get a tattoo

Has wanted to get one ever since Beel showed him the tattoo he got in memory of Lillith, but things were very...not good...between the two of you at that point

Finally worked up the courage to at least ask if you would be okay with it after the two of you made a pact

Beel, forgetting his super high pain tolerance, told him that it getting a tattoo doesn't hurt at all, so he was in for a big surprise when he went under the needle for the first time

Whiny at first, but he manages to stay very still for you

Has a memorial tattoo for Lilith over his heart that matches with one on Beel

Will definitely start to doze off during long sessions

Convinced Satan to get a matching Anti Lucifer League tattoo with him(definitely doesn't try to convince you to get one too)

Make sure that he does not, under any circumstances, actually fall asleep while you're tattooing him. He did once and he rolled over in his sleep, almost ruining an entire tattoo

Ever since that time, Beel has come with him to his sessions so you could focus on your work and he can focus on keeping Belphie awake

Satan

Gets his tattoo not long after Belphie

One of those people that think every tattoo needs to mean something so he takes forever trying to pick out something that he wants

Would probably get some sort of quote or design inspired by his favorite book, something that really resonated with who he is as a person

Was somehow convinced by Belphie to get an Anti Lucifer League tattoo

Does he regret it whenever he realizes that he now has a portion of his skin dedicated to Lucifer of all people? Possibly, but he definitely won't say anything about it to you

Loves to look at you and just admire your tattoos, asking the stories behind each and every one of them that he can see

He might be a bigger fan of literature than the fine arts, but that doesn't mean that he has any less of an appreciation for your work

Definitely pulls some strings and gets one of his friends who owns an art gallery to display some of your work there

Can set you up with all the connections that you need to make your mark on the Devildom art world

Lucifer

The last of the brothers to get a tattoo

In the beginning he has no intentions of getting a tattoo, he does have alot of respect for your talents and how hard you work for them though

As an art lover and artist himself, he will most certainly commission you from time to time and hang your work in his study

He won't admit it, but seeing your art and thinking of you when he's stressed with work is very soothing

He eventually decides to let you tattoo him only if it’s in a place that is easily covered by his clothes, considering how he dresses that leaves you with pretty much his entire body to work with

Sometimes when he has some time off he will grab a sketchbook and join you if he finds you in the common room working on a design, you share a comfortable silence, with the only sounds be the crackling of the fireplace and the scratching of pencils on paper

The kind of person that wants a tattoo but has no idea what he actually wants, but hes picky as fuck so he will turn down every single idea that you give him for weeks

He is lucky that you love him

Whenever you two talk about placements, if you mention anything on his back to cover up the scars from his wings he will almost back out entirely

Almost

Afew months later he’ll put his pride aside come back, admitting that your ideas would be perfect and that he wants to go through with it

During the session he has way too much pride to admit that he was feeling any pain

That is until you have to start going over the scars

As soon as the needles hit scar tissue he starts to fall apart; tears, shaking, the whole nine yards

It takes you quite a few sessions to finish since he cant handle such long sessions on that portion of his back

The summer after his new back piece is finished, he goes with you and his brothers back to Diavolo’s beach, this time he takes his shirt off in front of everyone for the first time since the fall

He wears your art with such pride that he lets everyone keep the memory, he even lets Asmo keep the pictures he took of all of them up on Devilgram

Diavolo

Wanted to be the first to get a tattoo but Barbatos said no

If you want to continue your career in the Devildom for the duration of your stay, he will buy you a building to work from and any supplies to get started since you had to leave your stuff in the human realm

Diavolo has rooms in the castle filled with the art that he's collected over the years, so when he sees that you're an artist he gets so excited

Before he finally gets tattooed by you, he buys a lot of your artwork and hangs it up around the castle

It takes a few years to propose the idea again to Barbatos in a way that wont make the butler’s hair fall out from stress, but he finally relented under one condition: it has to be in an area that is still hidden while he’s in his demon form

He decides that his legs would be the perfect place to indulge in your artistic talents while also keeping Barbatos’s controlling side at bay

Hes another one that knows he wants a tattoo but no clue what he wants to get

Unlike Lucifer though, he is a true open canvas

He truly adores your art so he wholeheartedly trusts you with his body and knows that he will love anything that you do for him

He knows that this is most likely very nerve wracking for you considering his position so he tries to reassure you and make the process very easy for you

You still put everything into designing him something fit for a king

He’s the type to prefer large pieces that span over entire sections of his body rather than abuncha small/medium sized ones

Another fidgetter, he’s really not all that accustomed to pain so he doesn't have a high tolerance for it

Likes to treat you to dinner at Ristorante Six after each of his sessions

Tips like the absolute king he is, you could probably pay a couple months of rent back at your apartment in the Human Realm just from his tip

Once his tattoo is finally finished and healed, he will find every excuse that he can think of to invite you and the brothers on outings to places where he is free from scrutiny to wear shorts and show off your artwork

Barbatos

The last of all of the boys to get a tattoo

It was a complete shock to everyone when he came to you and asked if he could make an appointment to get tattooed by you

“Everyone” being you, Diavolo, and Lucifer because nobody else knows that it happened and he would like to keep it that way

Another member of the “I’ll get one as long as it’s somewhere nobody will see” club...so basically not his face

Before the two of you get to talking about designs, you expect him to go with something small and simple, maybe an elegant little teapot or something along those lines

Then this man comes to his consultation and throws you for a loop talking about a sleeve

Very picky, he has high standards for himself and what's on his body

Knows exactly what he wants but does his best not to stifle your creativity during the design process

You learn ALOT about just who lurks behind Barbatos’s mild-mannered butler facade during his sessions, he’s surprisingly upfront and honest whenever you have him under the needle

Solomon

Can't get a tattoo

This man has pact marks for 72 demons all over his body, there is simply no more room

Any open space he has is being saved just in case any other demons *cough* Lucifer *cough* ever decide to come around to making a pact

Collects your flash and hangs it up around his room

If you take Diavolo up on his offer to set up a shop in the Devildom, he will make sure to tell all of his pact-mates about you, hype up your work, and get you a lot of business in the door

Sometimes he will commission art from you and use magic to make your art temporarily appear on his skin over the pact marks

Once you become a sorcerer and have a better grasp on your magic, he helps you experiment in creating magical inks and enchanting tattoos

Asmodeus

The only one that actually doesn't want to get a tattoo

He doesnt think that tattoos would fit in very well to the image that he has for himself

And not being able to show off every inch of his beautiful skin while its healing is a no from him

Since he likes to test out his new makeup and skincare products on you, sometimes after he has had his way with your face he will let you draw on him with skin safe markers

would definitely be a wimp about the pain

Will spam pictures to his Devilgram of his fancy new temporary tattoos and you drawing on him

Will definitely try to bring you some of his flings to get his name tattooed on them, you will have to reprimand him every single time and eventually he will stop

If you're not the type to keep up with social media, he’ll offer to keep up a Devilgram account for your shop

If you're ever attempting to draw and you have a very specific pose in your head that you can't find a reference for, he will not hesitate to get up and start posing for you

Luke

He is baby and cant have any tattoos until he's older

His mind frequently bounces back and forth between the whole “your body is a temple” rhetoric that he was taught growing up and “wow that's so cool!”

After Simeon got his tattoo Luke became a lot more enthusiastic and curious about your job though

Will occasionally ask if he can have one of your flash sheets so he can color your pictures

These very often end up on the fridge in Purgatory Hall

Sometimes they even make their way to the fridge in the House of Lamentation too

Will this make the brothers jealous? Yes. Do you care? No.

Luke loves you and looks up to you so much that he goes through a little phase of wanting to copy you, yourself and the entirety of Purgatory Hall can expect loads of temporary marker tattoos

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #I tried very hard to not show my blatant favoritism #mission failed #for the most part I didn't actually describe any tattoos so people can have their own interpretations #but if anybody is interested i have ideas on what everybody's would look like

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

Text

Random Thoughts: A Dark Past

This came into mind; the Male reader is a prisoner of war and is taken back to the mainland. As usual, me and @softboy5393 fanboying over this.

I went overboard with this.

You were taken by a Titan with a long face, like a horse into its mouth. You fell unconscious during the whole time.

When you woke, you were in some room. You looked around to see where you were, you noticed you had a red armband on your left arm. 'What the... where am I?'

Then the door opened. "Ah, I see you're awake." the unknown person said along with others. He had blonde hair and an undercut style which was pushed back. [This] He also had an armband on, but his was more of a lighter red.

You took the people that walked and noticed that Reiner was there. "YOU DAMN TRAITOR!" you attacked him. You didn't do that much damage before getting pulled off of him.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! DON'T TOUCH ME!" you yelled trying to get away from them.

"So, you're the guy that Pieck took? You island devils are sure are something." The one with blonde hair said, sitting down. Reiner was dusting himself off.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves? I'm Pieck. You already know Reiner. The one with glasses is Zeke and the one next to you is Porco." The girl- Pieck said. She had long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose, and relaxed dark brown eyes.

"You probably have questions as to where you are?" you calmed down a bit to respond.

"Yes. And why am I here? Why did you take me from my home?" you said, backing away from them.

"You're in the nation of Marley. And it was Reiner's idea to take you."

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

It had been 4 years since you were captured. You've kind of gotten used to the new environment. 'So, humanity didn't die after all?'

You were shocked by the outside world. There were these flying ships in the skies, a cart that was driving without horses leading it. The food you have never seen before. A picture that was too detailed for any person to draw.

"That's a blimp, that's a car, and that's a photograph," Zeke said, showing you everything.

You also got to meet others. "That's Gabi, Falco, Sophia, and Udo. They are the next in line to inherit the Titans."

Gabi looked at you with mistrust. She had hatred in her eyes. "Don't mind her, she hates anyone from the 'Island of Devils.'" Zeke whispered into your ear.

It has taken a while for Gabi to get used to you but in due time.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

You were walking with Pieck, Reiner, and Porco in the Liberio Internment Zone. There were stands everywhere and colorful decorations everywhere. You were amazed.

"Today's the festival, M/n. Ambassadors and famous families from all over the world are going to be here for Willy's speech. Of course, since you're with us, you'll be joining too." Pieck said she was your favorite out of all of them.

"Let's go try some things. Try this." she gave you some kind of dessert with a cone?

You gave it one lick... "WHY IS IT SO COLD?!?!" you said, others were looking at you weirdly.

"What's this?" You picked some triangle-shaped food with toppings and cheese? "Mmm, this is good! I never had anything like it!"

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

You had a fun time at the festival but now it was time for Willy Tybur's speech. You sat with the others but Porco, Pieck, and Zeke were requested.

Then the sounds of instruments began to play and Willy came on stage. He bowed before starting. "Allow me to tell you a story."

(This is the entirety of Willy's speech)

"Approximately one hundred years ago, the Eldian race ruled the world with the power of the Titans."

"Between the appearance of the Founder, Ymir, and the present day, Titans have stolen the lives of so many people that the present population of the world..." showed Titans eating people. "Could die thrice over and still not compare."

Then the lights turned red, people appeared covered in blood and screaming. "Because of Titans, and an extraordinary number of races, and the cultures ad histories thereof, have been stolen from the world."

"That slaughter has defined human history and the history of the Eldian Empire. And when the Eldian Empire ran out of enemies, it turned to the killings of its own kind."

You were shocked. Was this the history of your ancestors? Were they like this?

"Thus began the Great Titan War."

"Houses holding eight Titans shed blood in combat among themselves. In these desperate times, one Marleyan saw a path to victory. He was our hero, Helos."

"By artfully waging an information war, he led the Eldian Empire's biggest threats to turn against and kill one another. By joining hands with the Tybur family, they forced the unbeatable King Fritz to flee and retreat to Paradis island." the crowd began to clap. You were awestruck.

"But even exiled to the island, the king still held power. Tens of millions of Titans are capable of crushing the world flat still slumber on that island." the crowd gasps at the revelation and fear.

"The fact that our world still exists undisturbed to this day is pure luck. That is the only explanation our Titan experts could muster up. My fatherland, Marley, decided to take the initiative against the island and sent four Titans to neutralize the threat, but that plan failed and only the Armored Titan returned."

'That's why Reiner broke down the walls.'

"In other words, the Eldian Empire, the scrounge of human history, is alive and well."

"Now, the story up to this point consists of facts known to everyone. The truth, however, differs slightly. From here on, I'll discuss the memories passed down in my family alongside the Warhammer Titan."

"The complete truth will be revealed here and now for the first time. Approximately one hundred years ago, the one who ended the Great Titan War was neither Helos nor the Tybur family." Two people standing side by side to him.

One was represented Helos and the other, the Tybur family.

"The man who brought an end to that war and saved the world was King Fritz. He came to regret the Eldian Empire's savage history and the infighting among his own people."

"Above all, he grieved for the Marleyans and the oppression they lived under. When he inherited the Founding Titan, he and the Tybur family devised a plan." The lights turned blue with King Fritz and the Tybur family shaking hands in agreement.

"To establish a single Marleyan as a hero in the war. His name: Helos. After that, King Fritz moved as many Eldians to Paradis as he could. Erecting the great walls around them."

"He left a warning if anyone threatens his peace, countless Titans would be unleashed in retaliation. However, he never intended make good on this threat." Things began to add up to you. That's why the world hates Eldians. 'I'm not what they say we are!'

He continued. "King Fritz made a vow of renouncing war and bound his successors to uphold it, just as he had. Thus his ideology was passed down to each new King of the walls and the Titans with the power to crush the world remain dormant."

"Marley didn't stop Eldia and pure luck hasn't kept the world from being crushed, it was the king of the walls, Karl Fritz, a man who yearned for peace. That's it. That's all he wanted. He said if Marley grew strong someday and came in force to shatter his peace and seize the Founding Titan, he would accept it."

"He believed the sins his people committed were so horrific that they could never be atoned for."

"When the day of retribution finally comes, I will accept it until then let me enjoy this walled paradise, free from strife and conflict. I ask for nothing but a brief span of peace."

"Those were the final words the king left us with." King Fritz stood next to Willy bowing.

The crowd erupted into chatter. "What does this mean?" Gabi was shocked to along with her friends. You were twice as shocked as they were.

"If what he saying is true..."

"So, Marley and the Tybur family didn't save the world?"

"Willy wouldn't lie..."

"That means Paradis doesn't actually pose a threat, right?"

Willy spoked, the crowd went silent. "It's true, to secure our own safety, my family joined hands with King Fritz and became heroes to the world. While our fellow Eldians became devils but plainly, we Tyburs are petty thieves, growing fat on honor we did not earn."

"I stand before you willingly parting with my false glory because I have come to understand that the world we share is in grave danger" the crowd began to chat again. The drums began to ring.

"With the Founder's might, King Fritz erected three walls, using a great host of colossal Titans..." the background changed to colossal titans conjoining arms. "Counted together, the walls surely contains tens of millions of colossal Titans."

"They guard the King's peace as his shield and his spear or they did, but now, that peace is being threatened from within. An uprising has taken place on Paradis, the king has been deposed, the Founding Titan stolen."

The background changed to a devil. "The thief is an enemy to every man, woman, and child outside his island. An enemy of peace, his name... IS EREN JAEGER." Your eyes widen...

"If the colossal of Paradis are ordered to walk, the rumbling will be felt across the Earth and death will follow. Until now, only royalty has had the power to wield the Founding Titan and King Fritz's vow has kept his descendants from using it, but this Eren Jaeger has found a way to use the founder without having royal blood."

"Which means he could begin the rumbling at any moment. Once the walls of Paradis begin to walk, there will be nothing we can do. Except flee in vain from the sound of Earth-shaking steps that will herald our doom." your face turned into a worried one. Was this going to happen?

"These monsters will crush every city, trample every tree and flower, they will literally flatten our world. I have always hated my blood and more than anyone. I have wished that my race would disappear."

Willy sounded like he gonna burst into tears. " However, I confess that I want to live. That despite everything, I believed this world is my birthright just as it is yours."

"The people gathered here may belong to different races, different nations but if we're to survive this crisis then for the first time in history, we must join as one. SO PLEASE, if you wish to live and lend me your strength, help me protect our world's future!" The cameras began to flash. The crowd erupted into cheering.

"If we work together, we can overcome any obstacle, any threat! I ask each of you to join me as I go to fight the devils who would plunge our world into hell! HELP ME DEFEAT THEM!"

The crowd continued to clap and cheer. "Here and now, as a representative of Marley's government, I send this message to the devils of Paradis!"

"CONSIDER THIS, A DECLARATION OF WAR!" As Willy said that, a Titan erupted from the building behind the stage. A Titan you knew very well.

"Eren..."

#x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine #attack on titan #aot #random thought #attack on titan x male reader #aot x male reader #attack on titan fandom #attack on titan thought

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