#kstbj

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!

The afomachia food 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 shih bless you, it’s so tasty

the doomed boss/bodyguard relationship was compelling, what can i say

[pocketramblr]

*pretends to be so normal about your new never neverland fic* so, little Johnny is also here? What a twist! *fails*

Ah ha, yes, he is there indeed! Little Johnny and Mocha were whisked away to Never Neverland from a orphanage the same night, where they'll never never grow up- just like Tsubasa, who came back after a few years away from the orphanage with AfO in the middle of the night, flying by the window, to help carry them off.

[shih-coulda-had-it]

i will (very respectfully) ask you for it

just a tiny crumb, only if possible,,, the prettiest pretty please 🙌✨❤

I respect you and your decision to ask for this off anon. This is the homebrewed fantasy AU (based off @boss-the-goofball's fantasy otome isekai prequel) featuring Demon Lord of Evil All for One and 'Bro, Seriously? This Guy?' Knight Torino.

in-universe context: AfO is a Demon Lord who fell off the radar a long time ago. He's passing as a human but the bulk of his divinity (really love religious terminology; I'm gonna be accused of blasphemy someday) is in the sword that Sorahiko agrees to carry/ferry to the 'vault'.

wc: 1,615 | rated: a mild m but i'm tagging as lemon for decency's sake

//

Ever since those loathsome paladins of One for All started dispelling the curses and cultic practices that All for One had embedded into the lands long ago, there was a distinct decline of zealots vying for his attention. Gone were the acolytes who dreamt of having him as a patron; exiled (if not summarily executed) were the cultists who praised his generosity and lavished him with their worship. The world had learned to treat All for One as taboo, and as useful as it was to be the unspoken embodiment of evil, it was also just that: unspoken. 

Unspoken, then unacknowledged. The consequence of being deliberately ignored (forgotten!) is his current reduced nature: he’s still more than a mortal, but he’s also become nearly as vulnerable as one.

“Are you testing me?” Torino demands. The hedge knight dogs All for One’s footsteps as All for One leads the way back to an old follower’s home. That follower is dead, but property is eternal, and All for One’s claim never fades.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe so you could get off on seeing your damn sword in action. Not that you could’ve seen much, considering your position in that mess was directly underneath a dogpile of idiots.” A brief pause, and then Torino says in resignation, “Except you didn’t have to see it.”

“I feel it all,” says All for One smugly. “You wield the blade well.”

“Oh, so you were getting off on it.”

“And there’s the romance of the whole encounter, gone,” he laments. Just as they reach the door, too! 

Located on the outskirts of the village, his old follower’s home is a rough-hewn hut surrounded by overgrown bushes. There is no light shining from within, no smoke exiting the mud-and-stone column protruding from the roof. Somewhere in the dirt, All for One can sense a buried idol that wards off any do-gooder’s attempt at arson.

All for One pushes at the wood, sweeping an arm out in a gesture for Torino to step in first.

“A real lightning bolt of attraction,” Torino says, dry, and instead of agreeably following All for One’s direction, he stops in front of his (well, it’s not locked in just yet, but All for One can seal this deal; the blade is just one aspect of several for Torino to truly become his champion) patron and tilts his head. Their eyes meet.

There’s blood on his face still, streaking up from a stubbled jaw and staining the arch of his nose. A few abrasions mar the overall visage, but overall…

All for One smiles. He’s always been partial to those who spilled blood for him.

“What are we doing here?”

“Resting,” he answers, innocent. “After all, we’ve made enemies among the villagers. You can’t pay for a room until they, hm, forget the beating you’ve delivered.”

Torino’s eyebrows draw together in a clear, if silent, curse. His thin mouth tightens into a bloodless line, and then he blows out a rough sigh. “The owner?”

“Long dead.”

“... Provisions?”

All for One blinks down at his knight. “You’re here.”

“Ah,” says Torino, sounding as though puzzle pieces have finally slotted into place. Whatever revelations have occurred in Torino’s head, they certainly haven’t come from All for One, who is now dearly wishing for that mental backdoor access. One step at a time, though. Torino’s only just promised to bear the sword to the vault.

If he plays his cards right, he can tempt Torino a little further down.

“It's a shelter from the elements,” he says.

“And only that,” Torino mocks.

“I offered you what I have. See what I’ve lost now?” All for One reaches for Torino’s forehead--an old habit--and deftly switches tracks to card the silver hair with his fingers. And Torino lets him. “All my tributes, my riches, oh, they all claimed it was going to be redistributed. But then they said it was cursed, and they hoarded it for themselves.”

“Because you parted with your gold so easily.”

“I made exchanges based on equal value.”

“So in your eyes, is this shelter worth my tender love and care?” Torino glances at the sparse interior--a hearth, a cobwebbed cauldron, a dusty bed with moth-eaten covers--and looks back at All for One with a challenging stare. The sting of his question fails to hurt, though. A part of All for One exults at the phrase ‘tender love and care.’

“Not alone,” says All for One slyly. “Why, you’ve been given the whole package, Sir Torino. The weapon, the house, and the god, all at your disposal.” With his hand at Torino’s nape, he draws him forward until their chests make contact, and All for One bends his own neck in order to give Torino a kiss.

Torino makes a noise, somehow startled in spite of all the signals having been sent his way. His hands go to grasp at All for One’s waist. He kisses back tentatively, then hungrily. As All for One pulls away for air, Torino takes the opportunity to urge him into the hut, kicking the door shut behind them.

“Air’s not as stale as I expected.”

“Mm,” he hums, distracted by the influx of power. It’s quick to recede, so All for One’s using it fast to make this living space more bearable. Cycling a sharp, cold breeze to kill any small, leggy intruders is the first item on his agenda.

“You’re doing something,” Torino realizes aloud, and he follows that profoundly redundant statement with an explorative trail of his mouth to All for One’s throat. Breathed against that flesh, Torino says, “Is it the action, or the intention?”

“It’s more fun when it’s both.” The deflection earns him teeth, almost immediately soothed by a tongue, and All for One clutches at Torino’s neck with a gasp. “Bed. Now.”

“What, you’re not going to fuss about the sheets?”

“Torino.”

“I don’t have supplies,” Torino says, a hint of warning entering his tone. “Give me more time in the next town, and maybe I’ll get away with more than a jar of salt.”

“If you’re following along,” All for One retorts, “then you can predict how I’ll fix it.”

The thing is, All for One thinks as he takes a step back, Torino does follow along. He’s grasped that worship isn’t just for ego’s sake. But if All for One spells it out, Torino will act contrary just to poke fun at the Demon Lord of Evil.

Closer to the bed. He thinks of undressing himself, but Torino’s pointed question holds true: All for One does want to fuss about the sheets. So instead he sits on top of the covers and watches Torino shuffle off his traveling gear: the boxy pack, the cloak, and the belts attached to the sheath of his blade. The boots come off one at a time, and after a moment, so does the top half of his outfit.

“You’re folding your clothes?”

“In the loosest of terms,” Torino says. The linens and the mail are rendered into neat squares sitting on top of the cloak; with no other way to delay the inevitable, Torino finally gives all his attention to All for One.

“Well?” All for One says, imperious in his invitation. He cocks his head and parts his legs.

“I gotta undress you too?”

“Perhaps passion could win out over propriety just this once,” he suggests.

Torino huffs out a laugh, but he approaches All for One without hesitation and climbs into the bed, carelessly tugging the Demon Lord of Evil to the center. For easier access, he rucks up the skirts of All for One’s robe.

“Hey, look at that. You do wear pants.”

“You’ll want to take my shoes off before that.”

The click of a tongue is hardly a reprimand, not when Torino so agreeably catches one of All for One’s legs and starts feeling for the seam where the hems were tucked into a road-worn boot. He drags a nail over the bunched fabric when he finds it, and is terribly gentle while pulling linen from leather.

It feels like worship, for all that Torino says no prayers.

All for One basks in it. His vision blurs slightly, going out of focus as Torino occupies himself with divesting All for One of his shoes and pants. The flow of power is only a trickle, and this mortal vessel can’t even hoard it, so he has to use it now. Priorities, priorities… definitely the bed first.

Using magic to mend and launder fabric would have earned his ridicule once, but it’s not as though All for One has the capacity to weave it anew just this second. He thinks longingly of the fine things lost from his castle: the furnishings, the meals, the painted-black plates of armor his armies donned to induce fear.

“Still here?”

With a start, All for One feels the cold air brush against bare skin. There are hands stroking up and down his legs, and Torino shuffles closer on his knees. Power licks through his veins like a dog slavering for its first meal of the day.

Half-dazed, he says, “Yes,” and, “More.”

“Greedy,” Torino accuses, and even though it’s not the vow of devotion that All for One starves for, it’s a shade closer to fondness than Torino would probably perish before admitting. His knight digs his fingers against the pliant flesh of All for One’s thighs, bites his throat hard enough to earn a gasping moan. “Selfish.”

“You’re here to please your god,” All for One manages. 

“Aren’t I,” says Torino, and he slides his mouth against All for One’s in a rough kiss.

[pocketramblr]

The tenderness of this story, the softest warmth, in shades of morning light 😭😭😭 I CANT

THAT'S SO NICE THANK YOU I honestly was nervous I was overusing the warmth idea a bit by the end but I think it worked well for the story thank you 💜💜💜

[pocketramblr]

TWINS!!!

WAIT REALLY

[pocketramblr]

Prompt game, 21, Guideau, please!

“Is this romantic enough for you?”

"So the witch is focusing on couples." Guideau summarized as Ashaf looked over a stall of glittering things. Pretty and pointless, like he often decorated himself with.

"Exactly. And so to draw them out," Ashaf picked up a necklace with a swirling gold pendant on it. He turned, holding the jewelry out in front of Guidea.

"We can bait the witch with a couple, great," they crossed their arms and glared at Ashaf. "You better not be thinking about trying to put that around my neck."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He laughed, putting it back and looking over ear studs instead, before gesturing to the rings. "What about these?"

Guideau blinked. "What about them? Are they enchanted?"

"Some of them. But more importantly: they represent a promise of love, in here and quite a few levels."

"So we use them to find our bait couple?" Guideau was getting tired of walking through strategy. Let Ashaf do his task quietly and call them in when Guideau could kill someone.

"Why waste time finding someone else to be bait?" Ashaf asked, plucking a ring from the board and holding it up.

It was a tiny piece of metal, and perhaps they was how they justified wasting it here instead of using in weapons or technology. Tiny, it wouldn't have fit on any of Guideau's real body's fingers.

They scowled harder.

"Are you joking?"

"You don't think this is romantic?"

Guideau sniffed. "You said yourself, I don't know about love."

"Ah, but you've been learning. And love is different from romance anyway. Dinner together, candle light, strolls at night, arm in arm."

With that, he offered his. Guideau took it with a groan, only because they wanted to draw out the witch too.

"Is this actually going to work?" They asked, drifting to another stall of trinkets.

"Is this not romantic enough for you?" Ashaf picked up a candle holder, carved to look like two lovers embracing.

When Guideau, against their nature, forced themself to think about Ashaf and romance... The picture they came up with was decidedly more blood covered. And also, Ashaf was looking up at them with those bright wide eyes, not down with the little smirk.

If this body's slight stature was a hidden asset sometimes, none of those times were when Ashaf was next to them and taller.

Bastard.

"Hm. You could be on your knees." Guideau hoped to dismiss the subject with that, but they were disappointed to instead see Ashaf's little smile twitch again, as he flipped coin to the vendor and grabbed a ring without looking.

"I can work with that, and you're right, it'll definitely catch the witch's eye."

[pocketramblr]

happy birthday!!!

Thank you!!!

[bloustorm]

happy birthday 🎉🥳

Aww thank you