#ahahahahahaha--

[sprightlyexalt]

he said he’d marry me--

[n41r]

Something stupid that I can't stop thinking about after staring at Demon King Busker's portrait-

tw: implied dirty jokes

With the way how his wings is folded and how his tail is draped over his shoulder in his portrait, he looks hella uncomfortable on his throne-

...wait a second

Busker, what the heck are you holding in your hand-

Two gold colored balls...? In some Japanese gags aren't golden balls like that usually imply... Oh... oh gosh-

Busker, whose balls did you stole-

/SLAPPED

[kychchc]

❤ in front of her husband. To piss him off. No press this time, sadly.

Scarlet knew better than to get involved in the arguments between President ShinRa and his wife. It would be career suicide to say a word, much less step between them–Hell, it’d probably wind up being a more literal form of such if the President was in a foul enough mood. Even if she loathed him on a personal level, the future of her career meant that she needed to stay neutral… although her heart ached for the Devil in White. Just how Lilith hadn’t shot her husband was beyond her, if she was being honest… but her feelings didn’t matter here.

Lilith’s did.

A reminder chimed on her PHS, finally giving her an excuse to interrupt. “Ah, ma’am–”

As if sensing blood in the water, the Devil in White whirled around, fingers tangling in the golden silk of the younger woman’s hair. Before Scarlet could even so much as blink, the Devil in White was laying claim to her lips with the sort of impassioned kiss that made the world screech to a halt on its axis. Green eyes went wide before they sunk closed, the Devil in Red clutching onto her alabaster counterpart as she just–held on for dear life, following the embrace much as one would chase the proverbial dragon on an opiate trip. By the time that Lilith withdrew, it was hard to tell what was redder; the dress Scarlet wore...

Or President Shinra’s enraged cheeks.

[kingkilvas-blog]

✚ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

✚ for a kiss on a wound.

“Bah! I already told you, it doesn’t hurt, its fine--” the raven snipped, a deep frown set into his face. Why was it that even the slightest of scuffs always resulted in the younger princess fervently insisting on bandages and salving him up? Never had the Kilvasi been so coddled in his entire life!

This time was... perhaps a bit more justified. Naesala had been bragging about his people’s ability to avoid any Beorc weapon, and one of Sakura’s elder siblings had swung at him with a blade-ended spear to test his swiftness.

But really, he’d only gotten slightly scratched. It was a graze! Nothing really! His leg would be fine, it was the equivalent of a paper cut. Perhaps a bit more blood, but it was still the same premise.

“N-Naesala-s-san, I h-have told you... that I... I do not tolerate fl-flippancy with we-weapons.”

He frowned even deeper, but shut himself up while she finished wrapping the linen bandages around his shin.

“Harumph,” he grunted as she reached the end. “I thought the shy ones weren’t supposed to be this stubborn.”

Somehow, this comment was seen more as a compliment-- which was rather good because he had not meant to insult. Naesala had never been this looked after. While in many ways it felt tedious and unnecessary, at the same time it was comforting to know that even the smallest of bruises would garner such care.

Maybe she had been trying to tease him right back for all the times he teased her when she pressed a quick peck to the wrapped up wound as she finished.

“There. G-Good as new.”