I'm Irregular

I'm trying to write without long breaks, but I guess regularity isn't my thing. 18+ Only Requests -- > Open (18+ Only)

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RULES

My requests are always open, whether it's for a request, questions, or if you simply want to chat. By the way ! You can send more than one request ! Or if you want to chitchat (Cyno leaves my body) message me directly (only those who are over 18).

If the requests concern writing, just let me know which one you sent before so that I can make the connection if there needs to be one.

I write headcanons, fluff, yandere themes and dark content. I also try to write angst and smut, but I can't promise a decent result. Any advice is welcome.

I can also write about different ships and poly — like mlm ; wlm ; mla ; wla or OCs. I’ll do my best to respect and understand your OCs. If I make a mistake, please do not hesitate to correct me (constructively, of course).

Since I explore disturbing or/and sensitive topics such as murder, obsession, stalking, violence and psychological themes. Viewer discretion is advised and ONLY for those over 18, minors are NOT allowed in these writing. All posts containing such themes will have proper warnings. Not just Dead Dove, do not consume but a list containing warnings before each write.

I’m willing to write for any character - female, male or gender neutral— everyone is welcome ! Hate or/and negative comments will be removed. I would like things enjoyable for the others.

WHAT I DON'T WRITE

I don't write about (character)reader x character like a Dazai!reader. But if you like this, belovedren is really good at it. I personally love these writings.

However, I can write about a reader who shares the character's life, both romantically as well as platonically. For example : Reader ends up in Twisted Wonderland but grew up or raised by the Chrysos Heirs (Honkai Star Rail). Does that make sense? I hope so...

I will NEVER write incest (any type of form), pedophilia, zoophilia, age play (like an 18-year-old reader with an older person or a creature several centuries old), wound fucking and similar things.

FANDOMS I WRITE

Honkai Star Rail

Wuthering Waves

Twisted Wonderland

What in Hell is Bad ?

The Freak Circus

The Kid at the Back

You can request here : REQUEST

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The Scavenger

First Part is here !

Who should I write Scavenger with for the next part?

Pierrot

Harlequin

Jester

Ticket Taker

Columbina

MC

Remaining time: 1 day 8 hours

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Hhuelelelrllelelo sorry its a bit late at night ad I request here, so I hope u dont mind

But I saw ur requests open, open to TFC so I was hoping to request

Perhaps the TFC (Or just Pierrot and Harlequin (and the Ticket Master if you can fit him) if u can't do all) x GN!Reader with Serious Narcolepsy Type 1,, and doesn't treat themselves the best because they have a job to do, plus errands...

Tries to force themselves to stay awake even if it's unhealthy, even pinching / scratching themselves, or further, add as you wish go crazy

Damn cafe and customer service and all (they don't hate the job theyvjs hate working)

Uhdurhsujust a bjt slrpry,, have a good night / day/ noon!!

—An⭕n

Pierrot x Narcoleptic! GN! Reader

☆ Mama Pierrot is here! Sorry...

☆ As we all know, Pierrot knows a lot (too much) about us, from the most ridiculous details to the most intimate ones.

☆ So this sort of thing is far from a secret to him, and it’s actually the main reason for his sleepless nights. After all, he’s got to know how to look after his dearest, doesn’t he?

☆ Pierrot is undoubtedly the most prepared member after the Doctor and Ticket Taker when it comes to knowing how to help and look after you, although he is, however, the most panicked.

☆ Whenever he can, Pierrot is by your side, refusing to leave you alone for a moment. In fact, he even accompanies you to the loo! You might well fall asleep there, trip over and crack your head on the toilet bowl! Yes, yes... That’s really what he said.

☆ Pierrot remains very gentle, though. When he discovers the scratch marks, the skin completely raw from constant scratching, he says nothing. Yes, Pierrot says absolutely nothing. He just takes your hand, his thumb stroking your skin, whilst he leads you to the bathroom (or waits for the café to close) and, with a gentleness you hardly knew he possessed, he tends to your wounds (it’s not good to scratch yourself!!).

☆ As soon as he sees you faltering, Pierrot is by your side in an instant, not hesitating for a moment to take you in his arms or settle you in a quiet corner, even becoming your very own oversized pillow.

☆ You’ve also gained a domestic monster: your fridge is always full of lovely home-cooked meals made with love (though they start to smell a bit metallic after a few days), the laundry is folded, ironed and even tidied. You’re even treated like royalty with massages!

☆ Pierrot doesn’t hesitate for a moment to become a veritable living pillow. And how can you resist? His chest is broad enough for you to slump right onto it. His body is warm without being a furnace. His arms hold you in place, occasionally amusing themselves by tracing indistinct shapes on your skin. Sometimes, Pierrot even starts humming.

Pierrot does his best. The first attempts are often disastrous but a real breath of fresh air. Pierrot becomes an anchor; no matter the time or the moment, you can count on him.

I’m sorry! Firstly, for taking so long to make the request, and secondly, for only being able to do Pierrot! I just can’t seem to get the other characters to work the way I want.

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Weak

Weak. Devour her! You didn’t go through all that for nothing! What does it mean to be weak? I refuse to let them regain their strength-not at her expense. Does that mean a lack of strength? It was bound to happen. They’re nothing but a filthy scavenger. An inferior being? If I split open their skull, would I discover a conscience? A person in distress, waiting for his saviour? Mercy is inconceivable. Am I not right ? A predator turned prey? NO! They would never have done such a thing! A broken puppet. A toy rendered useless.

The circus quietens down, the shows come to an end, the visitors leave the tents, and the monsters return to the darkness. Sadly for you, rest is nothing but a pipe dream, a cherished habit that has been stripped away from you. After all, a scavenger has no need for Morpheus.

You must look after the Fools, those humans who have fallen into the clutches of the circus, the majority of whom in no way deserve this cruel fate. The weakest are always the first to be devoured, providing for the needs of the strongest, who are often the most unworthy. The Fools are proof of this cruelty; their kindness has led them into the tender and comforting embrace of Control.

Poor humans; how can you not feel pity for them after every performance? Although they lack free will, they are still living beings, and these very beings still feel pain. From the lacerations tearing through their bodies, to flesh being ripped from severed limbs, down to broken bones.

However, there is little difference between you and the Fools. Humans turned into prey, and a scavenger caught up in their own cowardice.

Having finally finished your work with the Fools (the bile rises just thinking about the state of the one who played the Angel in the Jester’s show), your bones creak like those strange, crumpled humans after hours of dealing with ingrate tasks and dodging the circus members, particularly the Serpent and his damned wandering tentacles. Feeling despise gnaw at your mind just thinking of the tentacled monster with his raging libido, your dorsal spines straighten and quiver, nearly tearing through the fabric, whilst one of your three tails tightens around your leg, the stinger pricking your ankle.

Stay calm. Always stay calm. And honestly, you’re no match for Harlequin, or even the other members—and certainly not Pierrot. Although you are the tallest monster in the circus, so much so even the Bird has to look up to observe you, your body, as thick as phasma, is far from capable of surviving the Predator’s fury. A weakling has no say; a weakling must endure; a weakling must serve, not enslave; a weak, treacherous weakling must comply.

“Well, well, well… Who do we have here?” Humming the last few words, the Serpent slips up behind you, his sharp fingers taking malicious delight in stroking your dorsal spine, pressed against the fabric. “What are you doing here at this hour, my sweet, adorable, ridiculously delicious Scavenger?” His disgusting tentacles quickly follow suit, wrapping themselves around your thighs, tightening as they feel the tails around your legs stiffen.

Brilliant! The one you were so desperate to avoid is now clinging to your back like a leech in heat… Can a leech even be in heat? That’s beside the point! A shiver of pure revulsion runs down your spine as you feel the viscous appendages of Harlequin sticking to your clothes. If only your stingers still had venom…

“I’ve just finished dealing with the Fools…” A second shiver grips you as one of his tentacles slips beneath the fabric, seeking the warmth of the scales dotting the skin of your waist.

“Hmm… And here I was, in my great benevolence, bringing you a little gift. The Scavenger must be quite hungry, mustn’t they?” In one of his hands is a brown paper bag; the paper has gone brown, as has the thick crimson liquid dripping onto the ground.

Red. Red everywhere; everything is red – on his suit, on the bag, on the ground, his whole arm. The colour trickled down the bag, staining the paper in its wake until it pooled beneath, forming a single drop that fell and painted the floor with its thick, viscous consistency. The faint sound of the drops crashing into the small scarlet puddle rang so loudly in your ears. That echo returned constantly, scraping at the edges of your consciousness, awakening an unrecognisable, monstrous hunger. Saliva threatening to overflow from your mask and ruin the make-up perfected after weeks in the kennel.

“Here it is. I knew you’d be dying for it! After weeks on a leash at his feet. The hunger must have become unbearable. Gnawing at your own flesh is far from enough, isn’t it, my dear?” With no other aim than to ruin what little sanity you have left, Harlequin takes a wicked, sadistic pleasure in waving the bag under your nose, before finally pulling out the piece out of the bag.

Big. Thick. Red. Meaty. Juicy.

Your gaze is fixed on the meat in his hand, blood dripping between his fingers, the scent spreading through the air, whilst beneath your mask your cheeks flush pink, your saliva becomes hard to swallow, your pupils narrow, and your second pair of eyes open.

“G-Give it to me…”

“What was that?” Delighted, Harlequin tightens his grip on the meat, his claws piercing the flesh and sinking in, the blood flowing more freely, the scent growing even stronger.

Like a dog with its treats, Harlequin tosses the chunk, which you catch without hesitation; your own claws slice through the meat before you shove it whole into your mouth, your multiple rows of teeth tearing through the flesh effortlessly.

Harlequin smirks, his own tongue—a repulsive, unmistakable green—licking the blood staining his fingers. His gaze never leaves you for a moment, your Adam’s apple bobbing as you swallow the barely chewed piece of meat. Would it swell just as much if he put something else in there ?

Completely consumed by hunger, you search for the slightest trace of blood, even ending up licking your own fingers, your teeth cutting your skin. Harlequin takes advantage of this focus to snuggle up against your body, his head resting against your chest, his rarely hesitant hands trembling for a moment before finding their place on your back, savouring the warmth emanating from you. Just one moment…

Alone, the Scavenger gnaws at his own flesh. Through his tears, shame brings his failings back to the light. Longing to regain his freedom, The Scavenger abused her charity.

Ta-da! Here’s the first story about the Scavenger! A character I’ve wanted to write about for a while now, and I’ve finally taken the plunge.

I hope the ending wasn’t too rushed and, ABOVE ALL, that Harlequin stayed true to his character! Feel free to ask any questions about the Scavenger or simply about my story; all feedback is welcome.

If I could draw, I’d have had so much fun sketching the Scavenger. Unfortunately, the best I can manage is a stick figure.

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I need answers

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I’d like to know if I should turn my Freak Circus x Monster!Reader story into a Freak Circus x Monster!OC story.

Given that I describe their height, appearance, and the way they think and act in some detail... I was wondering if I shouldn’t just turn it into an OC instead.

I don’t want to disappoint readers looking for xReader stories only to end up with my piece, which isn’t really a xReader story given how I’ve written it.

Also, if I turn it into an OC, can I still use the second-person ‘you’, or would that be odd?

I know he's kicking his legs under it, I just can't prove it !

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Hello, I luv the writing on WHB (What in Hell is Bad?) Satan x Patient!GN! Reader. And you did great! I like to make a similar request on WHB, if that's okay?

a fluffy headcanon of Mammon x GN!reader who's like the virtue Charity and/or Lucifer x GN!reader who's like the virtue Humility?

You can do both of them in one writing or make two separate headcanon writings. Take your time with this, and thank you in advance.

Mammon x Charity!GNReader

Greed and charity, a somewhat surprising combination. Bimet nearly had a heart attack when he heard this news, and he naturally conducted an (anonymous) vote arguing that the economy of Tartaros would crumble if demons allowed such a relationship to proliferate, but the vote only became a popular meme among demons (to this day, Bimet has never held another vote).

Mammon really struggled to understand this way of thinking, asking you far too often whether you had been rocked too close to the wall, to which you responded with a roll of your eyes, earning you a pinch on the cheek that quickly escalated into a friendly fight (you never won, but you'll find the flaw and you'll win!).

Tartaros is the richest country in all of Hell, and there are many clever individuals who try to take advantage of your charity, attempting to exhaust it until your way of thinking and living becomes a misfortune, a regret. Unfortunately for them, charity is not synonymous with weakness; your charity even becomes a weapon (a force that drives Mammon crazy) Tempting offers, unbeatable sales, special attention, omnipresent help, your insane proposals quickly scare away even the bravest, except for Mammon, who throws himself headfirst into every opportunity. You swear that you have managed to scam him many times, but you obviously refused Satan's blackmail attempt; you do have values after all.

Besides, restaurants are a trial, a treat for the restaurateur but a blow to Mammon's ego. Just imagine, Mammon and you in a gourmet restaurant, dressed in the most expensive clothes the King could find, and then it's time to pay the bill. Mammon stands up proudly, puffing out his already enormous chest, and struts like a peacock towards the counter. And then the waiter announces that you've already paid! What a betrayal! You! You paid? How dare you?! Mammon often sulks all the way back to the castle. But! He makes up for it with a (not homemade) breakfast from the best pastry chef, and Mammon almost tears his hair out when you SHARE breakfast with him.

One day. Mark this down: one day, Mammon won't let you share your breakfast with him. He'll make it happen!

Despite all these little quarrels, Mammon and you remain very complementary. You are often there to remind him that he is crossing certain boundaries, that greed is not the way to get everything, and you often ask him, ‘What will you do after you have discovered everything, possessed everything? Wouldn't life become dull?’

Mammon quickly falls silent, his hand caressing the small of your back with his golden claws as his gaze drifts into the void. When he regains consciousness, a gentle smile graces his lips, his eyes shining like the most beautiful fires of Abyssos, and he tenderly kisses your temple, murmuring a simple “Thank you”.

With your charity, you often find yourself overwhelmed with requests, with many demons asking for your services (some inconceivable and impossible for a human), and many abusing your charity. Woe betide them when this reaches the King's ears, as Mammon will not hesitate for a second to remind them of the respect they owe you.

After all, how can one disrespect the future Queen of Tartaros? Oops… What a blunder.

Lucifer x Humility!GNReader

Lucifer likes to believe that fate brought you into his life, even thinking at times that you are a gift from his father, proof that he can still be loved, that he is worthy of love—thoughts that he quickly forces himself to forget yet come back to haunt him every night.

You had some difficulty accepting that Lucifer was Pride, the fundamental sin. After all, how could you believe it when he whispered his love, his need for you, into your ear, thinking you had been carried away by Morpheus. Or how his gaze never stopped searching for you during the festivals, terror gripping his chest when you left to help a country attacked by angels, the way his fingers trembled when he touched yours, seeming terrified at the thought of scratching you or worse, drawing blood, your blood. How could you believe it?

The nobles, especially Gamigin, like to say that Lucifer has become your cheerleader, having seen their King correct your words many times when you belittled your actions, or the little smiles and even the little fingers linked together when you told him about your day, constantly praising others.

Lucifer and you are THE couple of Paradise Lost, many admire you, including some you would rather not be aware of. A certain King of Abaddon who has requested threesomes on numerous occasions via letters with unusual smells and textures... Anyway, let's move on!

Your humility is a trait that Lucifer greatly appreciates. Being able to make others feel valued, to keep your feet on the ground without resorting to denigration, never ceases to impress the Fallen Angel. He has even tried to do the same thing at times, but he still has a few things to work on. For example, words are very important, because telling Satan, the sin of Wrath, that his exploits are so extraordinary that he should take note sounds very much like an insult. And the rift has been salted... Thank you, Lucifer!

Although you love Lucifer, working with him is a challenge and something you would never do again. You are willing to forgive him for his lack of knowledge and social skills, but when he “explains” your mistakes to you and how HE would have done it in that tone of his that is hardly condescending, absolutely not! Of course, he is forgiven as soon as he offers you his famous flower crown (you can't take it anymore, you're up to about fifty of them).

Finally finished! I still have the other Kings to do. I apologise in advance! I find the part with Lucifer less well done; I find it much harder to grasp his character than that of the other Kings.

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Hi! May I ask for fluff headcanons on What in Hell is Bad Satan x Reader (Gender-neutral) who's a human and their personality is embodiment of Patience, like from the 7 heavenly virtues?

Satan x Patience!GNReader

How? How could someone so calm and patient end up with a hot-tempered Chihuahua who threatens anyone who looks at you the wrong way? It's a question that even his nobles struggle to answer. Some bets were even made in the utmost secrecy, which were obviously never revealed to Ppyong. We love this little red ball, but telling him who (jealously) placed bets on your relationship with the King would be like hanging a sword of Damocles over their head.

When you and Satan are together, one thing is certain: it will end badly and the furniture will end up in tears. Often, you haven't done anything, just reading or playing in one of the many common living areas before being called to the rescue by the demons. It's just as much Sitri and Amy on the verge of divorce as it is Paimon crying on your shoulder after you DARED to abandon him with those idiots (and no, he's not trying to steal your time with Satan, he would never dare, come on! Have faith in him!).

Satan eventually gets wind of what's going on and, strangely enough, a lot of butt-kicking is going on today... How odd. And you quickly find yourself having to take care of him before one of the veins in his forehead bursts. The scene is comical to watch.

After all, Satan, King of Gehenna and Sin of Wrath, standing before you, his hair almost standing on end, swearing a multitude of oaths that even the most foul-mouthed of humans would not know, makes the other Kings laugh, especially Mammon, who likes to add fuel to the fire by saying that the Chihuahua has rabies.

This obviously makes Satan furious (if he can be any more so) before you decide to intervene, asking him to calm down in a voice as soft and light as silk, one hand tenderly caressing his shoulder. And in those moments, Satan doesn't know whether to throw himself at you and smother you in his arms until your head pops or throw the first thing at hand at Mammon (it's often the second option).

Although quick-tempered, Satan nonetheless admires your character; the calm and serenity you inspire in him only makes him want to tear Mammon apart even more! The way you resolve conflicts fairly, without raising your voice or making death threats, earns you the King's unwavering admiration. Your calmness in the face of the worst scum, the smile you offer and the hand you extend are traits that only make Satan fall harder.

Satan shows you the wave of emotions you stir up in him in interesting and sometimes slightly ridiculous ways. For example, a failed attempt at mediation that ended with a shredded carpet, or a week-long silence until the nobles begged you to stop.

Satan expresses his affection in a rather aggressive way, pulling on one of your locks to get your attention, nibbling your hand when you spend too much time on your phone, biting your shoulder or cheek when the mood strikes him, or trying to sneak under your top to properly feel your skin.

However, when the night becomes too dark, the world too noisy, and the mind too heavy, your presence is a comfort that Satan cannot describe. On the verge of tears and a nervous breakdown, he joins you late at night and slips wordlessly into your arms, into your warmth, into his home.

The patience that defines you is what allows Satan to find a pillar he has never known, a pillar he clings to when the world becomes too much to bear. And together, that weight is always lighter.

There it is ! I really liked doing this one, was fun. Especially since Satan is my favorite in WHB ! I hope I didn't get carried away and respect the demand about a patient reader.

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I have several questions about your rules! Thanks in advance!

How many characters can we request for scenarios or headcanons?

Would you do the same prompt with different characters?

Can we request for male reader, female reader, gender neutral reader, etc?

Are there any characters you won't do in each fandom?

Can we request characters from different fandoms in a request?

Are there any topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc?

Do you do poly ships x reader?

Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily?

Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex?

Would you do NSFW requests?

If so, can we request any of these kinks?

-Dom/sub

-creampie

-bondage

-cunnilingus

-spanking

-finger fucking

-size kink

-deepthroating

-threesome

-virginity loss

-squirting

-nipple play

-praise kink

-shibari

-voice kink

-breeding kink

-overstimulation

-body worship

-crossdressing

-coming in pants/underwear

-lingerie

12. What kinks would you accept for requests?

13. Would you age up characters?

14. Can anons request smut?

15. Can we check with you if you received our requests?

At most, for scenarios, I would accept two to three characters in order to properly develop the request and not to make it too long. And for headcanons, i would say five.

I can do the same prompt with different characters.

You can request for male reader, female reader, gender neutral reader, etc. There's no problem with that.

For now, I don't have any, but if I ever receive a request and am unable to write about a character, I will provide an explanation so as not to leave the person in the dark.

You can request characters from different fandoms.

I have stated in my rules what I do not write about, so please feel free to consult them. RULES

I do poly ships x reader.

I don't mind if you request for Alternate Universes, Aus like AU where the character lives happily or something else.

I do NSFW requests and you can request these kinks you list.

I would not age minor characters unless the author themself do so.

Of course, anons can request and check with me if I have receive the request !

I hope I have managed to answer your request.

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Hi! May I ask for fluff headcanons on what it's like to be a Fem!Reader married to Anaxa and Aglaea (separately)? Please and thank you ☺️

Fem!Reader married to Anaxagoras

The very definition of a married couple (my personal opinion)

You spend more time chasing after him and preventing him from being sent back to the stake than enjoying sweet, pleasant moments in his company. You still remember the sleepless night spent listening to him ramble on about the Titans and the world beyond the sky.But the worst part? The mountain of documents stuffed into your arms at four in the morning that you were FORCED to read to prevent Anaxagoras from throwing a tantrum. Yes, your hubby throws tantrums…like a spoiled child. Maybe it’s your fault, you should learn how to say no

Your husband's students use you as a shield, their only hope of surviving their teacher's wrath. It's not uncommon for one of them to run towards you and hide behind your back, trembling like a leaf, as your husband approaches you, ARMED

The Dromases... The famous Dromases. You still remember your shock when you first discovered the secret. You, innocent little thing, had kindly decided to surprise Anaxagoras by bringing him breakfast! Imagine your surprise when he opened the door, his eyes puffy like a panda's, dressed in a Dromas onesie with a tail dragging on the floor. Not to mention his room decorated with their image and the onesie he gave you (or rather threw at you), his cheeks red with embarrassment.

So that's how you ended up sitting on the floor early in the morning, wearing Droma's onesie, sipping your drink and nibbling on your pancake while your husband complained about the misuse of his first name, the way his students mispronounce it, and, above all, he spelled it out for you so you wouldn't make the mistake. Yes, as Anaxagoras' wife, you have no right to make that mistake. Woe betide you if you dare to commit such an affront!

Although this marriage is giving you grey hairs and making your blood pressure rise, you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Sappy? Absolutely and we love it !

Nights under the stars listening to him talk about his family, his sister, the vice-like grip on his heart when his one eye meets yours... His hand tracing your palm with his fingertips, sketching the mark gracing his own hand onto your skin before bringing it to his lips to sprinkle your knuckles with kisses.

Late nights in his office, the weight of his body resting on your thighs, because yes! He particularly likes to rest on your legs, savouring the sensation of your breath against his neck, your hands on his hips caressing his skin through the fabric, your body resting against his back. Anaxagoras particularly enjoys feeling your bodies pressed against each other, if that wasn't already obvious.

FemReader married to Aglaea

A surprise. Although she was the Chrysos Heir bearing the Coreflame of Romance, Aglaea had devoted herself to protecting Okhema, so imagine the surprise of the Chrysos Heirs when they discovered their leader's passion for her wife, a passion that allowed Aglaea to feel her heart beat again.

A love that even the golden threads could not foresee, a feeling that Aglaea willingly allowed to heal the wounds of her once cold heart, devoted to her people.

Although Aglaea is the demigoddess of Romance, she never stops learning to love you, and you will never stop making her feel loved. She will cherish this until the knife pierces her heart.

She often likes to say that when she is with you, her soul ceases to cry, that pain blossoms into happiness, and that from this happiness she will weave the most beautiful tissue, even though it can never equal your gentleness.

Aglaea cannot imagine life without you, often wondering during nights away from your side how she managed it. How could she go on without tracing the lines of your face with her fingertips, without whispering her passion into your ear, without waking up with your warm body pressed against hers, without her lips sprinkling your skin with promises? How could she have lived without her foundation?

Aglaea turns out to be someone who greatly enjoys physical contact, whether it's holding hands, caressing your waist as she guides you through the market crowd, brushing your cheek with her thumb to remove a speck of dust, or twirling a strand of your hair around her index finger when you're staring at your phone for too long (in her opinion). People are so connected these days.

However (Aglaea would never admit it), she enjoys the attention you give her, especially during baths, unable to resist savouring the sensation of your hands running through her hair and the extreme gentleness you show her, and only her. Often, a discreet pout forms on her lips when you announce that you are finished, and of course you cannot resist this sight. Who could?

Here it is! Finally! @carebearcozy

I'm really sorry for taking so long to respond to your request. I hope it's not too short and that it's what you had in mind.

I'm having a bit of trouble getting a handle on Anaxa and Aglaea, I'm afraid I'll end up making them too out of character. They're characters I really like and they're also complex.

Personally, I find Anaxagoras's part less well done than Aglaea's. I have difficulty with him, so I hope it remains satisfactory or at least readable.

If there are any mistakes, please let me know, or if I've made a mistake in writing about them.

Don't hesitate if you want to request. https://www.tumblr.com/ottachy/808010540545949696/rules

[rudrouh]

Help him–

[bittergourds-blog]

When the restaurant has too many orders

[ottachy]

Asmodeus

For the new Asmodeus card...

Should I try to pull it or wait for it to become permanent ?

I'd like to save my Solomon's Seals (I hate farming for those) for the future Gabriel attacker card ?

Gabriel... Gabriel, when I catch you. 👀👀

[ottachy]

ALINE, the Loved One

TW : The brothers (Michael, Raphael, Gabriel) are their own warning. Obsession. Slight Yandere. Self-hatred in Lucifer.

I hope I haven't forgotten any. Please let me know if I have.

« Lucifer, Lucifer! Raphael killed the dinosaurs! My dinosaurs! » A little angel runs towards the Seraphim, beads of saltwater streaming down her face, pursued by the infamous Raphael, suspiciously armed with a stick (at least it's not the axe from last time), himself pursued by what appears to be a furious Gabriel, as evidenced by the bright halo behind the angel's head and his ruffled wings.

« You deserve it! You said my creation was an affront to creation! » Cheeks red with anger and wings flapping, Raphael waves his stick in the air, trying to strike his sister. Unfortunately (fortunately), the attempt fails, the stick slapping his cheek with a quick whip.

A failure only made the boy's anger more explosive, and the little boy couldn't bear defeat. A failure and a remark from Aline, and that idiot dared to laugh at him? An affront! A declaration of war! Besides, those big, stupid lizards had to die! They had been there for a long time! Outraged, Raphael quickened his pace, his cheek still stinging from the slap, on which a small red swelling was already visible.

But that was without counting on the unshakeable fury of young Gabriel, who was hot on the heels of the troublemakers serving as his family. Aline and Raphael had trampled, destroyed and massacred his beautiful and unrivalled sanctuary, proclaiming his love and devotion to their Father, the Creator! Such blasphemy must be punished! With unwavering determination, Gabriel lunged forward, arms outstretched and wings flapping, his halo shining so brightly that it became indistinguishable. However, it is not Raphael who finds himself in Gabriel's arms, but a hard, perfectly polished floor, a floor that the angel does not seem very happy to be acquainted with, not to mention the bursts of laughter from Aline and Raphael at the sight of their older brother kissing the tiles.

« Ah! The fall! Aline! Did you see that? Did you see it?! Gabriel is kissing the ground! The big filthy creature! Will you be eating off the floor next time? »

« Shut up, you illiterate filth! You have tainted my sanctuary for Father! We’ll see if you’re still laughing when I drown you in holy water and atone for your sins! »

« Lucifer! Gabriel is strangling Raphael! Lucifer! Raphael is hitting Gabriel! »

A simple exhausted sigh escapes from the Seraphim's lips, unable to do anything but watch the two brothers fight while Aline snuggles up against his leg like the innocent child she is not. Between Raphael swearing a string of insults and biting Gabriel, all while turning peony red (the poor boy seems about to implode), and Gabriel pulling Raphael's hair and feathers, cursing his brother for generations to come.

What did he do to deserve such siblings?

« Lucifer? Lucifer! » Once curious, Gamigin's voice quickly turned to concern at the sight of a single tear rolling down his king's porcelain cheek, evidence of torment so intense that even Lucifer could not stifle it.

« Ali- Oh? Gamigin… »

For a brief moment, she was there, by his side. They were all by his side. Gabriel, Raphael, Michael and Her. From their childish arguments to secret nights spent under the soft murmur of the wind, in the tender, cottony embrace of the clouds, observing the constellations, naming some of them with silly nicknames. Lucifer remembers all too well the countless heart attacks this quatuor nearly gave him, Michael arriving late at night crying his eyes out, screaming for monsters, because she had told him another scary story. Raphael coming to see him all smiles, a new and violent creation in his hand. Gabriel pacing his room, muttering strange prayers to their Father, his dark circles beating the pandas flat. And her. Lucifer had never been so close to losing his hair. Jumping off the highest tower in Paradise to learn to fly, what a wonderful idea! As a bonus, doing a flip at Raphael's request... These children had come close to getting the better of him several times, even though his heart had never felt so fulfilled.

Then they grew up. Too soon, too fast.

Then they changed. Too soon, too fast.

Then they drifted apart. Too soon, too fast.

The love of Gabriel towards their Father took a completely different turn, unhealthy, unbalanced, on the verge of frenzy. An obsessive fever rooted in the terror of Ali-...of his younger sister. From a gangrenous love germinates an unchanging devotion leading to the blossoming of an obsessive flower.

« God is benevolent. He cares and loves and is kinder than anyone. But God would also need to punish someone with his hands. » Words assiduously repeated by Raphael, a harmful vice gripping the angel's tainted heart. From a raging sea, a maelstrom was born, annihilating the creations that his Father had braved to love.

Michael's unwavering affection for Lucifer turned into a putrid hostility towards a younger sister still unaware of the horror that her existence would become. The tears that flowed continuously from his golden eye turned into a torrent of bitterness and sourness, rotting the heart she had once had the courage to cherish.

The revered Child. From hell to heaven, no being could equal her magnificence. She was perfect. She was unique. She was Creation. With a simple stroke of her paintbrush, she brought to life beings as powerful as they were majestic. From her art, life was born, and from life, her joy was born. Loved by all, adored by all, she knew only love and devotion.

It's all his fault. She would never have endured such suffering if he had been able to accept reality, but he hasn't and never will. If only he had stopped looking away. If only he had stopped whispering his futile prayers as a form of reassurance while his brothers' wicked behaviour grew more severe. He was nothing but a coward. A nobody. A bad brother.

Lucifer still remembers the fear consuming her once loving eyes, those cries for help, those pleas. When his hand reaches towards the sky, once his home now consumed by the gangrene of obsession, he can still feel her hand brush against his. She wept for him, begged him to take her with him in his fall. A distress he chose to ignore, a cruelty he preferred to abandon, an obsession he decided to envelop in excessive love.

Lucifer will never forget her. She will never forget him.

______________________________________________________________

Finally! I'm finally done! So here's my first writting on Tumblr, I hope you like it.

I'd like to point out that English is not my first language, not at all. So, I apologise in advance for any mistakes or misunderstandings (I hope there aren't any).

Lucifer and the brothers are probably OOC. I don't have any cards for Lucifer and not much information about the brothers.

All criticism is welcome, or just simple comments.

Bonus! A cute little Beelzebub ! (^o^)

[journey-to-the-attic]

glimpse into the things i visualise whenever i use :D jobs

[umbraria]

We are the Phailings please feed us!

[huai-est]

Let’s give him some friends.

[< Previous image]

[candyandclouds]

sukuna gets… cuteness aggressions

you weren’t even doing anything special. just sitting cross-legged on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket that seemed far too big for you, hair slightly messy, face calm. it should’ve been nothing. harmless. boring, even. but for some reason, sukuna was standing at the doorway like he’d seen something unspeakable. his four eyes blinked, twice, slowly. “what the fuck are you doing?”

you looked up from your tea, confused. “drinking?”

he stared. like he was trying to convince himself it was true. that’s all it was—you, a cup of tea and nothing else. but the way your hands held the mug, small and soft, the way your lips pressed to the rim, steam fogging your lashes. he twitched. actually twitched. “woman.” his tone came out strained.

you blinked. “what?”

his jaw worked. his fingers flexed like he was debating whether to punch something or grab you. “stop it.”

“stop what?”

“that.” he motioned vaguely at you, voice rising. “the cute shit. you’re doing it on purpose.”

you tilted your head. “i’m literally drinking tea, ‘kuna.”

“yeah, well,” he barked, looking away like he’d been personally attacked. “stop looking like that while you do it.”

you tried not to laugh, but a tiny snort escaped, and his eyes snapped back to you. for a split second, he looked offended. and then, like a storm breaking, he crossed the room in three long strides.“woman.” his voice dropped an octave, half-growl, half-warning. “you’ve got two seconds to wipe that look off your face before i—”

“before you what? bite me?” you teased, hiding a smile. his silence was deafening. “oh my god,” you gasped, realizing it, “you do want to bite me. you’ve got—you’ve got cuteness aggression.”

“i do not,” he snapped instantly, but it was too late. his ears, those traitorous things, went faintly pink.

you started giggling. “you wanna squish my face, don’t you?”

he bared his teeth. “i’ll kill you.”

“uh-huh. you’ll kill me with love.”

“woman—”

but you were already leaning forward, face bright with laughter and that was the last straw. with a strangled sound that might’ve been a groan or a growl, he grabbed your cheeks, not gently, but not rough either, just enough to make your lips squish together. “look at you,” he muttered, staring at your puffed-up face like it physically pained him. “you’re ridiculous.”

“mhmph,” you managed through your squished cheeks, eyes sparkling.

he groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “fuck. i hate you.”

“nooo,” you said, still muffled, “you’re just overwhelmed.”

his shoulders dropped. he let go, muttering under his breath as he turned away. “damn woman and her stupid face.”

you laughed so hard your tea sloshed. and from across the room, sukuna glared like it was your fault his heart had teeth now.