I think what I love most about mythology is that the “Trickster God/Spirit” is an archetypical character found in almost every body of folklore. It’s like “Oh, here’s our God of the Sun, our God of the Sea, our God of Fertility, and our God of Being A Wretched Little Gremlin Who Causes Problems On Purpose”
'Playfully Begging for a Kiss' Headcanons - Kid Pirates, Marines
Ao3 Link
“Help!” You shout, running over and collapsing into their arms. “It’s critical! Quickly! I need…a kiss!”
Kid: It’s a 50-50 on whether he’ll blush, depending on how off guard you caught him. (He’s confident, but there’s just something about you that makes him second-guess himself.) If he’s blushing, he’s more reluctant—he’ll still kiss you, but it will be more chaste and quick. He’ll probably get mad at himself for hesitating, and then pull you into a second, more intent kiss. But if he’s drinking, celebrating, or in otherwise high spirits from the start, he’ll hold you possessively and kiss you with tongue, an open-mouthed, assertive and claiming kiss.
Killer: “Eh?” Tilts his mask down at you. “A kiss?”
“Mhm. And quick, before I lose consciousness…”
“We certainly can’t have that,” he says, his tone amused.
He leans down and touches his mask to your face. You smooch his mask where his lips would be.
Killer’s powerful arms tighten around you fondly, and he stays like that for a second, enjoying the closeness.
(Only in the privacy of his own room, when you’re alone, would the mask come off.)
Wire: Secretly elated that you chose him, but he plays it off cool. “You’re dying, huh?”
“That’s right!” You place your palm to your head. “Oh, the agony! The misery!”
Wire grins. “Beg me for it.”
“Pleeaase,” you beg, batting your eyelashes. “Pretty please, Wire?”
“That’s my good Y/n,” he says, rewarding you with a heated kiss.
Heat: “Um…You want it now?” he hesitates, much more shy than most of his crewmates.
“I need it now! I’ll die! I’ll wither!” you curl your fingers through the strings of his corset and tug slightly. “It has to be from a handsome man with tattoos and sky-blue hair.”
“That’s really specific…”
“Ack! It’s happening! I’m dying!” You rest all your weight in his arms, groaning and moaning in pain. “Ohh… Need kisses… Won’t last…”
“Okay, okay.” He leans in to kiss you, but in his nervousness misses your lips, pecking your nose.
You giggle, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a proper kiss.
“Thanks, Heat!” you singsong, slipping out of his arms and skipping away.
The kiss has stunned him in place, feeling his lips as he watches you disappear.
Koby: “W-W-What?” he says, a blush lighting up his face. He’s holding you securely, but inwardly panicking because you’re in his arms.
“I need a kiss or I’ll die,” you reiterate, wrapping your arms around his neck. He reacts from head to toe, going stiff and wide-eyed in alarm.
He’s the one who is going to die, he thinks. “You’re—you’re not—but I!” he stammers.
“The sea is fading…I see a light…” You sag in his arms, closing your eyes.
“Y/n! D-Don’t do this to me! Hey!” he shouts. “I, I…!”
“If only I was so loved as to be kissed…” you murmur weakly.
IF no one else is around, that’s enough to do him in. Overcome with guilt at the idea you may not feel loved—so long as you keep your eyes closed—he’ll give you a very fast peck on the cheek, very close to the corner of your mouth like he wanted to kiss your lips but chickened out at the last second. Then he’ll very carefully let you go so you support yourself, making sure you’re steady, before he runs in the opposite direction, steam coming off his head. He will not be able to look you in the eye for at least a week or two.
Smoker: Looks down at you. The change in his expression is very subtle, just the slightest tilt of his brow, but you can tell he’s amused.
“Don’t I give you enough attention as it is?” he says.
“…No?” You say, giving him a look. “Obviously not.”
“Then I guess I’m a bad partner.”
“You might be, if you don’t kiss me,” you smile.
He rolls his eyes, but when he kisses you it’s with a hand gently cradling the back of your head, his other hands holding his cigars away from your body.
Doll: “Hm…I dunno,” she says. “Coming off a little desperate.”
“Of course I’m desperate! It’s a matter of life and death!” you insist.
“Oh, really?”
“Really! My head will explode! My guts will be everywhere! It’ll be horrible! Unless a beautiful woman kisses me!”
That makes her crack a smile. She glances aside. “Alright, alright. Come here.”
Doll kisses you only briefly, but it’s one that warm with her affection.
X Drake: His fight-or-flight response is triggered, and he freezes. The blush starts from his chest and goes up. He doesn’t say anything, and you peek an eye open. Clearing your throat, you repeat yourself.
“If someone doesn’t kiss me, I’ll die! Terribly! Horridly!”
“But,” X Drake finally says. “But. But…”
“You’re the only one who can save me, Drake!” you say dramatically.
He swallows, looking genuinely terrified by the prospect. “I, I mean… Um…”
You’ve never seen him so out of his depth, but you’re determined to try and wrangle a kiss from him.
“I need it… It’s gotta be you,” you say, looking up at him with those soul-piercing eyes. “I need you.”
He nearly passes out, his face beet red and eyes glazed over. When he gets his wits about him, he’ll run away with a hurried apology of “I’m sorry…I can’t!” over his shoulder.
Rosinante: Stares at you open-mouthed. You approached him in his own room, so the two of you are alone. You know him well enough to assume he’d never kiss you in front of the Family.
He leans you on one arm to support you, and with his other arm free, takes out his notepad, resting it on top of your head. You’re the perfect height to use as a table, it seems.
“Hey,” you protest.
He scribbles, which feels funny on your head, then holds the notepad out for you to see.
‘What.’
“You heard me.” You loll your head back against the crook of his elbow like supporting yourself suddenly got impossible. “I have a disease where if I don’t get a kiss in the next ten seconds, I’ll wither away.”
He’s quiet. You can spot the faintest blush creeping up his cheeks. You start counting down. When you get below five, you close your eyes.
“Three…two…one.” You say. You can feel Rosinante moving, and your breath holds in your lungs. Will he really…?
Softly, so softly and carefully, he presses his lips to yours. It feels like magic, ebbing between your lips. It lasts for a glorious few moments, and then it’s over.
He’s looking away when you open your eyes. He gently pulls away his support, turning away. He won’t write to you for the rest of the night, withdrawing into himself, but he will hold your hand for as long as you two still have privacy.
Aokiji/Kuzan: “My, my,” he says. “I’ll never get my paperwork done with such a distraction.”
“You’d rather do paperwork than kiss me?” you tease, knowing the answer.
“If I kiss you, I won’t have it in me to face the paperwork again.” He touches your cheek with the crook of his finger, tracing down to your lips. “Kissing you isn’t motivating…It’s all-consuming.”
“So that’s a no?” you say, looking as disappointed as you can.
“Hmm…You’re a bad influence, you know?” he says, angling you so he can kiss you properly.
Naturally he doesn’t do any more paperwork for the day, just makes out with you in his office. If he’s not feeling too lazy he might even fuck you there, but most of the time he’ll just pull you down for a nap with him.
Kizaru/Borsalino: “Ohh?” he says, tilting his head. “Now what’s this about?”
“It’s about…my impending death,” you say weakly. “Only a kiss can keep me alive…Hurry…”
“Ah, I see.” He takes off his glasses, pausing to wipe them when he notices a smudge. Then he puts them back on, looks down at you, remembers what he was doing, and takes off his glasses again.
“You took too long. I’m dead now,” you say, sticking your tongue out. “Bleh…”
“Well, that’s a shame. I can’t kiss a corpse, now can I?” He tries to set you down, but you lean your weight into him so he can’t without dropping you.
“I changed my mind. I’m alive,” you say quickly.
“That’s what I figured,” he says, and kisses you.
Akainu/Sakazuki: He’ll actually do it without much fuss if the two of you are alone. The harsh lines of his face will soften when he looks down at you, a subtle show of adoration. You’ll be on his mind the rest of the day. Be warned; he’s the type to react more so in bed, recalling how cute and perfect you were with increasing force behind his movements.
Fujitora/Isshou: He chuckles, wondering why he’s still surprised by your antics, but delighted that he is so.
“My,” he says, looking down at you fondly. “What an honor to be chosen for such an important mission.” He feels for your cheek with one hand, guiding himself down. For a moment he just pauses in front of your lips, fingers grazing the skin of your face like he’s committing it to memory. Then he kisses you sweetly.
Isshou is one of the few Marines who gives no fucks about doing this in front of people. He’ll kiss you in front of Sakazuki. He doesn’t care, he’d much rather enjoy kissing you than keeping decorum.
and once again, I will shout “Sanemi Shinazugawa isn’t intrinsically an asshole, he just fronts it because he desperately wants to protect the ones he loves and he has an extremely gentle heart” from the rooftops
Hello, gorgeous!
I am so stuck, so stuck, SO GODDAMN BLOCKED. But I don't care. I told you about this in another post, and I just wrote an itsy-bitsy-little-bit, but this is so fucking sexy, this is so fucking hot, I NEED to share it with you.
I honestly apologize, because I would love to continue this, but I could not, and I wanted to gift it to you. Maybe this motivate me to keep the story, but this is it, by now. SORRY T-T
PS: you can do whatever you want with this concept, by the way.
The echoes of the damned's screams reached every corner of the citadel. The fortress's corridors, hewn from stone and forged from metal, stretched for miles in every direction. The galleries were wide and bustling. Creatures of all shapes and sizes wandered, crawled, fought, and scampered everywhere. The city was alive, and the demons were noisy. Silence was not the norm in Eustass Kid's domain.
And yet, in the great lord chambers, a creature of light and broken will, tried to silence his own voice. Well, "his" was a whole new concept for "him".
"Ye're so sweet when ye try to be silent, little angel…"
Beneath the demon's naked and bound body did lay an exceedingly beautiful creature. His body gleamed, pale and muscular, but not immaculate. His skin was crisscrossed with scars. But not the scars from the battle. These were the scars inflicted by his new master.
Killer, blonde and beautiful, tried to stifle another moan as he felt the tip of his member brush against the back of the red-haired demon's throat, who, lying on top of him, was doing whatever he pleased with his body.
"Fu…. oh… gods…!"
"Hah!" said the red-haired demon, after releasing his member with a wet sound. "Funny. First ye try to swear, then to avoid it, ye mention His name in vain. Ye're so cursed, little angel… ye like this, right?"
Killer was lying down, helpless, over the bed. His blond hair was spread across the dark sheets, his strong arms raised, bound to the iron headboard. Kid had also tied his ankles, kept his legs spread, and was playing with him as he pleased.
"Hmmmm…. ye've been a delight, Angel… having fun with yer new role as my little toy? Ye seem to be enjoying this…". As he spoke, and between sentences, the red-haired demon licked the former ex-archangel's member. His forked tongue toyed with the red tip while his hands, ending in claws accustomed to tearing flesh, gently pumped the member. Sporadically, he stopped his teasing to slide his fingers toward Killer's entrance, already lubricated, because Kid's tongue hadn't limited itself to toying with his dick.
"…. p-pwah….. pl-please…."
"Aw. Please? I though angels didn't beg. Ye want me to allow ye to cum again? How many times already? I think I counted three…"
"Ah!" Killer exclaimed as he felt Kid's fingers exploring his entrance with greater fervor. He had been born a creature of God, a high archangel charged with carrying out His divine will. His previous body was perfection incarnate, honed for combat, and utterly incapable of feeling pleasure or pain. His sole purpose was to eradicate sin and punish the ignoble.
Deep within the circles of hell, he had been granted nerve endings. And for the first time in his thousand-year life, he had experienced both pleasure AND pain, and had discovered for himself how easily they could be confused.
"W-why… are you doing this?!".
"Because the heavens have bestowed upon me a gift I don't intend to waste. Because yer god is stupid, and he's thrown away a magnificent specimen. Because it's a delight to corrupt ye and watch ye writhe. And because ye're fucking sexy." When there was no response, he continued. "Come on… it could be worse. Admit it, when ye fell into my arms, ye didn't think for a moment that I'd be this good..."
And he was right. The moment of the Angel's fall was traumatic, devastating… And at every moment, he thought it would be his end.
This is it. Been stuck here for days ;_; Hope you like it. Raccoon hugs.
EVERYONE STOP AND READ THE PERFECTION ABOVE I BEG OF YOU!
MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS MY EYES HAVE BEEN BLESSED WITH GREATNESS!!! The passion! The corruption! The walls breaking down in delicious defeat! Cast from the heavens to be caressed by hell itself. I AM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!
I don’t have the words to express just how great this is! You have a gift! Thank you for sharing it with me! It is an honor! I’m going to reread this until it is engraved into my thoughts! Until it consumes my existence! I HOPE YOU FIND IT IN YOUR SPIRIT TO CARRY ON AND TURN THIS INTO A STORY (if you want) because the idea and execution you’ve shared is MAGICAL! I NEED IT INJECTED DIRECTLY INTO MY VEINS!
Falling asleep from whatever activity you were doing like reading or writing on the couch or deck and then waking up wrapped up in your blorbo's arms and legs after they found you knocked out and then carried you off to their bed for a nap <3